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mahoutoons · 2 years ago

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the sonic franchise has a misogyny problem

hello everyone, are you ready for another long essay by me? because i sure am. this has been on my mind for a while now. i've already talked about how the sonic fandom tends to treat the female characters worse than the male characters. but what about the franchise? do they treat the female characters better? well, in this essay i'm gonna talk about the misogynistic aspects of the sonic franchise. i'm not just gonna focus on the games, but also on other adaptations. so sit back, and lets have a long talk.

(art by evan stanley)

the lack of recurring female characters

quick question, how many recurring female characters can you name off the top of your head? no, the non game characters don't count, and no, the ones who only appeared in one game and then disappeared don't count. i can only name four recurring female characters - amy, blaze, rouge, and cream. maybe vanilla too. compare that to the amount of recurring male characters - we have sonic, tails, knuckles, shadow, silver, the chaotix, eggman. yeah you can see the problem. and these four characters aren't even utilized that well as of late. blaze especially has so much potential. she lives in another dimension for christ's sake. but sega just doesn't do anything with her. she deserves her own game to explore her dimension. like, there's so much potential with these characters but they just don't do much with them.

the way they treat their lead female character

amy rose is the main female character of the sonic franchise. i've already written an entire essay on how she's treated so i'm gonna try and keep this short. the way sega used to treat their main female character is appalling. she already got enough hate from the fandom, and sega just didn't make it better. just look at how the social media team used to treat her

i have never seen any sonic characters get this much jabs from the social media team as her. heck, i've never seen a lead female videogame character get treated as badly as amy. and the way they purposely go to exclude her? just look at what happened with mania. it was supposed to be a celebration of all things classic sonic but they didn't have her there even though she was a classic character. instead they brought two characters from an obscure arcade game. which... yeah its nice to see obscure characters get the chance to shine but you don't have to exclude a main character for that. and even in origins, though she's in the marketing and cutscenes, she's not playable. why? and before you say "oh its because she wasn't playable before", tails and knuckles weren't playable in sonic 1 either yet they were able to be included there. so what's wrong with making amy playable? what else am i supposed to call the purposeful exclusion of the classic era's only female character other than misogyny? seriously, i've never seen any other franchise do this to their lead female character. even PRINCESS PEACH gets treated better. peach got her own damn game. what's sega's excuse? if they treat their lead female like this, what does it say about how they treat their other female characters?

and one last thing. i've already touched on this before but it makes me angry so i'm gonna rant on it again. the way sega seems to think amy's role in sa2 in reminding shadow of his true promise to maria is replaceable. and every time she's been replaced, its a male character who took her place (chris in x, implied to be sonic in archie). and honestly, i don't have high hopes that they'll let her keep that role in the movie either. i don't even have high hopes that she'll appear in the movie. forgive me for being a negative nancy but i've been disappointed too many times.

archie's treatment of its female characters

lets talk about archie now. pre reboot archie sonic, especially before flynn came around, was an embarrassment to the franchise for many reasons. but what i don't see many people talking about is how they treated their female characters.

lets start with sally, since she's the comic's lead female. those who know her from satam know her as the leader of the freedom fighters, a strategic genius, a no nonsense princess who is determined in her goals. but in archie, especially when penders came along, her agency was taken away. once king max was rescued, penders didn't know what to do with sally. so she had little personality besides being a princess. and need i mention how he tried to kill off sally in the most anticlimatic way? she spent most of the time after the endgame arc being stuck in the castle, not joining sonic and co on battles like she used to. and need i mention the utterly disgusting aspect that is her """"""relationship""""" with geoffrey? there is one issue i particularly remember when geoffrey kissed sally without her consent and sonic saw it from afar. what does he do? does he confront geoffrey about it? does he protect sally? nope, he just thinks that sally is trying to make him jealous. what the fuck?! she's legit being sexually harassed and you're just going to blame her for it? i know this was the 90s but STILL. and to make matters worse, sally is 16 while geoffrey is in his 20s.

and let me talk about how characters are introduced solely to be a love interest. like mina mongoose. i've got nothing against her but lets face it, she was introduced solely to create drama in sonic and sally's relationship. and they even gave her super speed just so she could have something sally didn't, so she could be a "competition" to sally. they didn't even do anything with it later. and flynn has it retconned so that mammoth mogul was the one that gave her that power.

and speaking of which..... ig every female character has taken interest in sonic at one point. we have sally, amy, mina, fiona, bunnie.... it seemed like they wanted sonic to have as many love interests as possible. i mean just look at this cover

and if they weren't into sonic, they were into any other boy. mostly knuckles. and speaking of which, lets talk about julie-su. she's supposed to be this strong woman type character but penders made her whole personality being knuckles' gf. she occassionally showed her "girl power" when she was sticking it to vector (who was turned into a misogynistic asshole to make julie look good. granted this was before heroes gave him a personality but after that you'd think they'd change up vector's character). flynn and occassionally bollers tried to make her interesting but she just didn't do it for me imo. and lara-su, knuckles' daughter who was supposed to be the main character of the "mobius: 25 years later" arc, got sidelined in her own arc. she doesn't have much of a personality there other than wanting to be the next guardian.

now when flynn came along the treatment of the female characters got better. and even more so after the reboot. but i feel like this is something we should talk about.

"only male hedgehogs can go super"

this is, without a doubt, the stupidest mandate ever. i get it, going super is something not everyone can do and if that was the case, the super form would lose its specialness. but why specify only male hedgehogs? the "hedgehogs" part is already stupid enough because tails and knuckles have gone super before, but why the "male" part? why specify that? seriously, give me one good reason why only make hedgehogs should be able to go super. i can't think of any reason this mandate exists besides sexism.

female characters being less utilized than male characters

this kind of ties in to the first point, but the female characters are generally less explored than the male characters. we have few recurring female characters and sega doesn't even utilize them that much. again, blaze has so much potential. there's so much about her to be explored, but sega just..... doesn't do that. we don't even see her much in the games anymore.

and lately, cream is also being excluded from the games. the last mainline game she appeared in was generations. and tell me, what was the reason for cream to be replaced by the chao in team sonic racing? this is amy's little sister figure, and you're just gonna replace her without giving an explanation as to where she is? at least with espio and charmy, they had a reason to not be with vector here. but with cream, there's no reason she's not here.

the female characters have so much potential. they have interesting aspects to them, dare i say it, some of them are even more interesting than the male characters. but sega just doesn't see that.

that's all for my rant. in short, sega has a history of mistreating or underutilizing their female characters as compared to their male characters. though its getting a bit better, they still have a long way to go.

#sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #blaze the cat #rouge the bat #cream the rabbit #sally acorn #bunnie rabbot #mina mongoose #julie-su the echidna #lara-su the echidna #rebecca talks

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clownsuu · 2 years ago

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The anime in question was called High Guardian Spice, and they tried to advertise it as an anime. Never watched it myself, but I've seen analysis videos on it, and the things I remember most were the background stock image mountains that they didn't clean the pixels from very well and the stock image bread in the basket in one scene 😐

[crack knuckles and breaks my joints cw me rambling HFHHDJSKS-]

from what i remember it was never specified as a anime but rather a animated original show by crunchyroll and since it was by crunchyroll people automatically assumed it was an anime- but from looking at the page and even the wiki, nowhere does it state it was an anime- even workers inside production like voice actors and such never called it an anime, but rather just a show- while news medias and so on called it a anime (aka association with crunchyroll) so it's easy to assume it was a anime (but it's NOT)

Also the show looked like absolute shit due to extremely low funding for the project by US animation standards, which is why some of the audio and visuals are completely low standard and poorly made- iv even heard that the show was never intended to be for mature audiences but rather was forced to be in the final productions of the show-

Also marketing it was a low ball for crunchyroll to make one of the teasers about the creators of the show being “100% female and diverse“ (basically completely forgetting about their main creator being a trans man), and although its ok to show that yknow, a show is being made with such a diverse group, that shouldn't have been the main focus about the show, it should be mostly about the show itsself- and yet after the release of it the creators have gotten shit on way too hard for trying to salvage what they had- and even they are not proud of the outcome but since crunchyroll put so much enphasis on them instead of the show, they suffer harder unnessassery bashing by petty sexist assholes smh

So yeah, a lot of stuff had to be save for time and resources and was rushed, and sure some parts are of fault of the creators, they are not all to blame for the failure of the show smh-

And that's all I know about the show's background JDHDHDJJD

#Had to look up stuff to be sure #And man people are extremely mean to the creators and shaming them mercilessly #Yes they deserve to have criticism #No it's not appropriate to say they should do unspeakable things to themselves smh #Also no I never watched it either I rather watch a more BETTER anime like nyan neko sugar girls smhhhhhh

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duskyskz · 3 years ago

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50/50 - Chapter 1

Warnings - Toxic relationship, verbal/physical assault (NOT with main pairing), eventual smut but very very slow burn, boxer minho, trust issues reader, development on dom/sub dynamics, sex education to a degreedetailed tags to come with individual chapters.

After the final straw in your patience and self confidence leads you to moving in with your neighbour, you spend months unlearning bad habits and opening doors you shut yourself out from in your last relationship.

Word count: 5.5k

Minho watched as you picked up the corn cob, placing it gingerly in the basket on your arm, moving onto asparagus sprouts. How own hands are empty, not yet having decided on the groceries he craves that week. Instead he watches, from the irritated skin on your wrist to the focus of your eyes as you inspect potato bags in the next stall over. He’s just a neighbour from the same apartment complex, he’s seen you a handful of times at most before the current week yet since he started noticing your steps he can’t seem to stop.

You breathe out heavily, adjusting the basket on your forearm and he stills, frowning when you readjust the woven handle once more along your arm. There’s a coloured faintness there, and traces of fingerprints that make his stomach twist inside out uneasily. He knows your name, as of a few days ago. It looks like it aches. It’s still an urgent boundary to cross, what he’s about to suggest.

“You could stay the night with me, if you want. If that’d be easier.” He’s only a step behind you, having followed you quietly down most of the farmers’ market now. The sunhat he recognises you from by now bounces among the sea of hagglers on a wednesday morning. “I know fights in relationships can be rough, so if you need a place to crash for the night, my couch is free.”

You wish you could tell him how much you cannot possibly do that, but Minho’s offer is so innocent and well-intended you don’t have the heart to outright decline. “Thank you, Minho, but we’re fine. I’ll be alright.”

He doesn’t need to read into your smile to understand the rejection, trying not to let it phase him at the implication you’d be going home again that night. He knew better than to ask if you needed help carrying your bags after the first time he’d offered and your knuckles turned white.

“Alright. But you know my flat number if, right? If something happens.”

“If something happens.” You promise, and leave him with a nagging sense of discomfort as your dress fades into the morning crowds.

***

You don’t think of doing it as you enter the concrete building block and pass the elevator to the staircase. It would be too inappropriate, too out of the question to even consider. A night at another person’s house? At another man’s house, even more so! No way would you consider breaking a rule like that. You couldn’t step out of line like that. Yet as you passed the third floor, one you now knew held the possibility of the unexplored, you hesitated for a moment.

No, surely it wouldn’t be worth the scolding you’d get after. Would you even be able to sit still for an hour, without twitching? The handprint shaped bruise on your wrist still aches dully with the weight of the food basket as you open the door to your shared apartment two floors higher. You no longer notice the relief that sags your shoulders when you realise the house is empty apart from your own presence. You take in the respite of silence while unpacking the vegetables, trimming the corn cob for stir fry later in the evening. It's followed by bamboo shoots and chicken breast, which you’ve just about got simmering when the front door clicks open.

You hear him before you see him, taking as long as you can to plate the food before turning to face the man you shared a home with. He doesn’t return it, eyes glossing over you to inspect the dinner plate you slide before him.

“You know I prefer rice noodles.” He tuts out, frowning. His feet come up to rest on the other chair, but you weren’t going to sit at the table anyway, opting to linger by the counter. “And beef, your chicken sucks.”

He chews loudly, groaning as if to make sure you’re aware of your culinary inadequacy, but his face never lifts from the plate. He wasn’t wrong, really. Your cooking was barely edible enough to provide nutrition and you didn’t know how to make it better.

He keeps talking still, even as his pointer finger comes in contact with your forehead to accentuate his point with a harsh poke that makes you lean backwards against the counter top.

You don’t apologize. It’s better to not make any noise, you’ve come to learn, keeping your head toward the floor and body still and you’re almost impressed with yourself when the plate is thrown into the sink by you with a piercing clatter, not caring if the porcelain splits

The food is half eaten, but you don’t comment on the waste either. You’ll eat alone later, but the mess makes your exhaustion rear its head again when you think of cleaning it.

You know it’s no longer love that stops your words in your throat. The fluttering in your heart froze up into apprehension first, then fear and indifference. The physical alterations hurt, but they were only skin deep. They only lasted a few days, and once the ache faded you wondered if you felt the pain at all. The verbal attacks, that made your head hurt more. But you stopped talking back, because then they stopped faster.

The door slams again, rattling the walls loud enough to make a point of your boyfriend’s absence and shining light on all your failures as a partner. He wouldn’t be back tonight, or maybe even the night after that. You let your knees turn to cotton, slumping to cold kitchen tile. You don’t clean up the noodles in the sink. You’re not hungry enough to eat your own portion.

In a burst of conflicting emotion, you feel yourself stand and head to your bedroom. Maybe it’s the tiredness that made a home in your bones, maybe it’s the stress rattling them every time you’re in his presence, watching your step and calculating his every action before it happens. Maybe it’s the lack of all of that when you push your partner from your mind and let your heart betray you for a second to think of softer brown eyes instead, living in the flat two floors below you. It’s some twisted amalgamation of it all, probably, that makes you pluck your mascara from the bathroom, alongside a toothbrush and (on second thought, in case of emergencies) minimal changes of clothing into your backpack. You haven’t had use for it in a few months, not having gone further than the main streets of your own town in that time. It still fits enough for a weekend trip, and the weight of it hangs on you heavier than the clothing you packed would allow.

Would you really do it?

Minho could be mad at you for changing your mind, and maybe you couldn’t take that. You’ve developed a defence mechanism for one person, but could you for another so quickly? If his voice raised at you, you’re sure you’d cry on the spot like you used to the first few times in this house, too. But maybe you wouldn’t have to, maybe he wouldn’t even be home after you’d rejected his offer. He had no reason to be home, so you’re just going to check and confirm there really is no chance and no hope of you escaping this hellhole, that’s it. Your hopes would be rightfully crushed and you’d return with your tail between your legs, clean up after dinner, and head to bed like the fool you are.

Locking the door after you, as your housemate didn’t bother to, you trudge down two flights of stairs to the last door down the corridor, marked with a cat-paw print welcome mat and burgundy painted door. You knock twice with shaky fingers, and the sound is so light you wonder if he’d have heard you even if he was home at this late hour.

“Jisung, I said not tonight!” There came a shuffling from the other side of the door, and you were seized with fear of facing the other possibility - that Minho was no longer considering you’d come by, as you told him you wouldn’t, and he’s going to yell at you for ruining his night. The thoughts lurched forward at you as his footsteps grew louder, pounding in your head so loud your eyes blurred so instantly you couldn’t focus on the door opening and Minho’s silhouette against his low living room light.

“Y/n?” His response comes stalled too, letting a beat of silence pass between you as no words left you. He wasn’t shouting yet, so you took the chance to apologize as quickly as you could before the situation worsened. Your limits were thin tonight.

“I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t come and that’s really stupid, I’m sorry.” Your thumb dug into the strap of your backpack at your feet. “It’s really late so I’m sorry if I woke you -”

“No, it’s okay.” Minho protests before you can word your final ‘sorry’, moving aside to reveal the rest of his hallway. “I wasn’t asleep yet. Come in.”

And that’s it. You expected more, to be honest. Some kind of questioning at least, scrutiny at your visual (and mental) state.

You don’t enter right away, thoughts wooshed out of your head. You don’t even think if he’d scold you for leaving the door open so long, but Minho just waits in the hallway, giving you space to cross the threshold of his home when you’re ready, watching as your expression blanks once the door closes behind you and he has to ask if you need help for you to take off your shoes and break out of the thought train. You hang your coat among his, after asking if he’s okay with that, and doing the same for your shoes. You hold your bag close, resting it on your lap as you sit down on your neighbors couch.

Minho looks the same as he did this morning, grey hoodie and equally nondescript jeans with a pale wash ending just below his ankles. He hangs around the hallway a few meters away from you, and you can tell he’s thinking about what to say before he voices his thoughts.

“Did something happen?” You hadn’t expected him to be so direct. You didn't consider this scenario beforehand, so you couldn’t answer instantly. “You said you’d come then. If something happened.”

“I’m not sure.” You decide to answer truthfully, though he may be unhappy with the vagueness of the statement. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened tonight, so…” You let the sentence trail off, but he knows the implication.

So I’m not sure why I came.

“That’s fine. Nothing has to happen for you to visit a friend.” Minho accepts your hesitance easily, and you’re instantly grateful for his keen senses. “It is late, so I’m not sure if you ate yet?” You shake your head. “I have some lunch leftovers I was going to heat up if that’s okay with you, though.”

Lee Minho was a glorious cook. Michelin level, you’d go so far to say, had you ever been to a Michelin star restaurant in your life, but you were convinced he’d qualify. Turns out his leftovers consisted of seared steak, grilled vegetables and an assortment of flavoured rice balls, which he served you with cucumber salad you saw him purchase at the market earlier that day. This was more elaborate than any meal you’d attempted to cook in your life, and you’d tell him so were you not so occupied devouring it. Minho didn’t think you noticed him glancing at you across the table, but the amazement in your eyes filled his heart entirely. He’s seen you look content, happy even on days he’d catch you by the vegetable stalls and spark conversation despite your brisk pace.

After he’d washed up, insisting you remain seated (which filled you with visible unease, to both his amusement and greater concern) you were forced to address the trickiest part of the night. You’ve had sleepovers before, but never with a boy. Never as an adult.

Stunning you for the second time that evening, Minho seemed to harbour no such fears.

“You can sleep in my room if you’d like, and I’ll move to the couch for tonight; but if you’re not comfortable with that, I’ll bring some blankets out for you into the living room.” The ease with which he approached the subject settled into your own head, and you nodded at his suggestions.

“I’d like to sleep here, please.” You pat the couch you’ve gravitated to after eating, quickly becoming the centerpoint of the apartment to you. Minho leaves for the few minutes it takes him to prepare a fresh duvet and pillow cover and you take the moment of isolation to break through the dam of thoughts clawing at your brain since arriving an hour ago. You weren’t sure if the time went by rapidly or dragged on. You only let yourself take in minimal information about the situation - taste of the food, the colour of his kitchen tile, the fabric of his clothing and softness of his living room rug. Small, manageable pieces of the greater dilemma you didn’t want to give attention to yet.

Midnight air mingles with your sigh as you lean back on your hands and tilt your head toward the window. Minho kept his curtains open for a glimmer of the nightlife. There wasn't much to see from the 3rd floor, but yellow light still flickers over rooftops and storefronts.Your musings are cut short when a mountain of bed covers drops beside you, delicately placed at the opposite end of the sofa. He must have switched off the other house lights on his way back, letting only the shy orange lamp illuminate his profile.

“The bathroom is on the left in the hallway, and my room is at the end of it, the last door to your right.” You note his directions in your head, nodding to show you’re listening. “Alright, I - I’ll let you sleep.”

“Goodnight, Minho. Thank you.”

He lingers by the doorway, balancing from one foot to another with an unfocused gaze. You don’t budge as he watches you, though he doesn’t seem to realise he’s staring at your feet, then your hands and face until your eyes meet halfway.

“I’m glad you came here. It’s good that you’re here.”

You don’t know how to reply to that statement, so you don’t say anything, and Minho leaves you with another soft goodnight and a flood of anxious thoughts.

***

Night fell rapidly, so much that when you switched off the remaining lights and laid to sleep. You were so stressed it made your head hurt, but the emotional toll made exhaustion greater, and you fell asleep within an instant. Minho’s duvets were plush, so big and fluffy you couldn’t see your own hand when you pressed down on the sheets. As you faded in and out of coherency throughout the night, a weight appeared by your feet. Too tired to be alarmed, you opened your eyes only when the warm pillow stood up, patting its way over to your stomach. It purrs against your cheek, whiskers tickling your nose as you blink back at it. It’s not surprising Minho has a cat - you’d picked up feline mannerisms in his behaviour before. It was endearing, now seeing the same slow blink in the eyes of the creature responsible for his habits.

It nudges its little head into your raised palm, rubbing against your hand. You give into the request happily scratching behind its ears, urging it to lay down next to you so you both could go back to sleep. The cat’s long body gives you something to focus on, easing the remnants of nerves from your brain.

***

You wake up more rested than you had been in weeks, despite pressure cramping your shoulder from the small couch you’d slept on. The living room is warmed by morning sunlight, though you’re not sure what time it is yet. You have no missed calls, and just one message from a student confirming the time of your session today. Creaks resound when you stretch, straightening out your bones from the night . The cat is nowhere in sight, but Minho must already be awake by the sounds coming from the adjacent room and you’re struck with embarrassment that he may have seen you sleeping. He would have walked right past the room, and since no door stood in the wide archway, he probably saw you drool right onto his pillowcase.

You consider sneaking out right then, grabbing your possessions and darting out the hallway, but you couldn’t leave without thanking him for letting you escape yesterday and for feeding you.

“Oh, hello.” The cause of your inner turmoil dips his head through the doorway, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, thank you.” Your knees bump against each other as you sit, patting down your hair. Minho looks well rested too, though his own hair isn’t combed yet and he’s not dressed to leave the house. Grey shorts this time with a plain white shirt hang off him, and he looks perfectly at home like that, humming a greeting at the floor when the cat you’d nestled into last night curls around his feet. White and ginger patches cover it’s fur, it’s belly a pure cotton shade as it rolls onto its back at your feet.

“You already met Soonie, right?” He laughs, pointing at your sweater, and belatedly you realise light-coloured cat hair clings to every inch of the fabric at your front.

“He came in to sleep here last night.” You pick at the frizzy hair to no avail. “I’m sorry if it got on your duvets, though…”

“It’s fine, my bedroom is covered in hair no matter how much I brush them out.” He joins you on the sofa next to the bundled bedsheets, placing the cat gently on his lap. Soonie makes himself content atop his legs, white paws dangling from the side. “I made breakfast for when you’re ready, and if you need to shower - I’ll grab you some towels.”

A shower did sound good, so you accepted his offer eager to strip from the clothes you slept in. Sweat was already making your sweater cling to your skin, and the cat hair combed through the fibers wasn’t doing the itching any favours. Not wanting to use up too much of his hot water, you rinsed yourself in record time. You packed your toothbrush, but not any shampoo, so you skipped out on washing your hair - taking Minho’s shower gel would be too much. You didn't want to go too far in his hospitality, and now he even cooked for you twice.

How could you repay that?

How were you supposed to make that worth his time?

You turned off the water then, not wanting to let your thoughts make you stall in the hot stream. You skipped out on wearing your sweater again, clothing yourself in the vest you had underneath and the pair of jeans you had last night. Feeling lighter now that the grime of sleep was washed from your skin, you looked around Minho’s bathroom before exiting. It was plain for sure, but accents of his personality lingered in the kitty paw-print of the shower mat, mint-scented shower gel and matching shampoo-conditioner set.

You’d never dwelled on whether Minho was a 3-in-1 shampoo user or not, but the knowledge he had dedicated creams and gels for each job reassured something inside you. It suited him. Yet the knowledge felt intimate, as if seeing the brand responsible for his mint and tea tree scent was encroaching on a level you weren’t supposed to know about as his neighbour.

You stood just beside the kitchen entrance, watching Minho set different dishes around the table top. Every flat inside your complex had similar layouts, so you were already familiar with the structure of his home. Still you watched, accidentally memorising the cupboard he stored his cups and cutlery.

“You can sit down, you don’t need to wait.” You faced his back, but he must have felt eyes burning on him. You sat down quickly, considering his words. Minho didn’t seem to mind a lot of things. It was unusual, being made aware of just how much instruction you relied on in unfamiliar settings.

And Minho smiles so much. It sets all your self preservation nerves on edge, analysing for underlying motive in his movement and sentences. You could clean his house if he asked, and replace the ingredients he used for your food. That would be the least you could do, and you’d settled on going about it as soon as he left for work - if he would leave. You had no idea what he did with his life apart from keeping you company on morning grocery hunts. But he was just so darn polite! He asked if you wanted any hot sauce, offered to butter your toast, even cleaned your dishes for you (again) that you had no idea what he could expect in return.

“Hey,” He calls over from the sink, “Give me a list of things you like so I can plan dinner later.”

“Why would you need that?” You still, glancing away from his mug collection.

“I only know you like courgette and hate leeks,�� Wiping his hands on his jeans, he leans against the cupboards looking at you intensely. “And...you will be here for dinner, right?”

Would you be here that long? You weren’t expecting to. You’d go back two floors above and clean up the spilled noodles from last night, as your partner would have not, regardless of whether he’d returned home or was still out doing his mystery business. Minho frowns when you don’t answer, crossing his arms as you bow your head. You don’t want to anger him now, but how could you stay here any longer?

“Why would you want to go back there? It’s bad for you to be around that.” You know that, both at surface level and deeper - but how were you supposed to disappear? Sourness spread through your bones when you unearthed the feeling. You’re really scared - and you have been scared for years, but you never considered the feeling as such because opportunity never presented itself to escape. To admit you had to escape from something would be to admit you feared it, that you had been hurtt. You don’t know if you’re ready for that process.

“I don’t have anywhere else I can be, I still have things at that house, I can’t just leave.”

“You can.” Minho contradicts you immediately. His voice is level, gentle and coaxing, even though a strong resolve trembles in it. “You can stay with me as long as you want to. You don’t have to pay rent or anything, since I don't have a spare room but you can take my bed or stay on the couch if you like. Stay here for a few days, just - to feel better. It’ll make you feel better.”

He’s come to sit across from you, enough to give you space but enough for you to see worry lines around his eyes as he speaks. “I’ll give you space if you need it, just let me know if I can make things easier for you.”

“I’ll have to go grab a few of my things, I only got bare essentials yesterday.” Minho perks up right away, as if no tension hunched in his shoulders just seconds prior. It’s not as hard to agree as you thought it would be. You’re terrified, yes, of a step you know won’t end here. But you’re also more rested than you’ve been in so long, and the strain of all the stress become routine for the past years that you’re willing to grasp any straw at breaking the cycle. And Minho was nice. Everything you’d read between the lines of his actions was kind.

“Okay. Let me give you my number so we can talk while I’m not here, and you know - if anything happens, call me.”

You did go to fetch more of your things, after reassuring Minho it would be best if you went alone. If someone else was home, you could pass off your absence as work-related - it would be harder to explain why you weren’t alone.

His presence would just cause issues, and he eventually agreed to leave you on your own after you promised you had his number saved. You would also pay rent, but about ⅓ of it - on his insistence you got no proper room but a living room couch, and at your insistence you’d be using his utilities and house space. Your neighbour - housemate?- had to leave to do his own occupations, but assured you he’d be back within a few hours to help you.

You thanked him again for everything before he left saying you’d send him a list of your favourite food when you were done packing, and you set about your own tasks. He’d left the house keys with you, making the point of you more likely to be home before him.

They weighed heavy in your hand, the implications of the trust in his gesture more than the object itself.

You didn’t have a lot to move, but the transfer still takes you a few trips up and down concrete staircase. The majority of your haul is books, your own towels and toiletries. You’d have to perform an impromptu closet clearout, quickly deciding which old pieces to keep and which were better left in the past. Since Minho’s flat was similar, but inhabited one person only, his furniture would be cast to contain belongings of one. Working from home meant you were spared the task of office clothing or showy pieces, so all you had to part with was a few aged sweaters. You grab your laptop, a selection of favourite cups and plates so you don't have to borrow Minho’s all the time - though was it really borrowing if you would share the house?

You hurry as much as you can, but it still takes three trips up and down to completely transfer all traces of your life to the flat below. By the time you’re done, you decide to clean the small apartament to make organisation easier. It’s rapid work when you focus and separate Minho’s laundry without thinking about it. Darks, lights, and the sparse touch of coloured denims among his closet. Then you hoover, and by the time you finish hanging up the damp clothing on the balcony, it’s a while past lunchtime.

The turning of a lock swipes tension over your shoulders before you recognise Minho in the hallway, shuffling off his running shoes and hoodie. You meet him halfway, wiping your hands on your jeans to rid the laundry moisture.

“Hi,” His skin is flushed as if he’d been running, sweat sticking to the baby hair around his forehead when he smiles to greet you. Minho looks worn out, shoulders pulled high and taught. His breathing is laboured as he walks into the house, and only when he passes the threshold does he release the air in his lungs to slump in one of the barstools. “Did you get your things?”

“I don’t have a lot, so it only took a few trips.” You nod, following him to the kitchen. “I put most of them in the living room for now, though…”

“That's fine, we can go through the drawers and make space for you after we eat.” He reassured you, seeing you tug on your sleeves. “You didn’t send me a list of things you like to eat, so I got things I remember you buying instead.” His voice lilts into a pout as he looks at you, lips jutting into a pout before reaching into the bags he brought.

A strange feeling climbs higher and higher up your throat with every item he stacks on the counter and you wonder how much he actually spent on just foods you like. It grows stronger when you recognise your coffee brand, the cookies you got last week as he bumped into you that morning. A selection of fruits you used in a cake you gifted him last month, and sundries to fill the cupboards with.

“I can’t cook.”

Minho looks up at your confession, pausing from arranging the food.

“I mean, my cooking is edible at best.” You elaborate, looking away from his face to his hands as you lamely explain. “I could never, uh, make it taste good.”

“I’ll cook then.” Minho nods, shelving the sauce jars. Your eyebrows pull together and he must have noticed your hesitance, turning on his heel towards you. “Or I can teach you, slowly.”

“You can help me cook, and I’ll show you how to season different foods. We’ll start with things you like, so you already know how they’re supposed to taste. Then we can go from there.”

You want to ask if he’s sure, if it’s not a bother to have you around while he works to have someone hover around him needing assistance, but you do want to learn - If your food could taste half as heavenly as Minho’s cooking did, you’d be content. So you agree and he cheers at you, excitement contagious. And before you know it’s coming, there’s a surge in your heart at the sight of him again that makes grinning back at him a thoughtless action.

Cooking with Minho is more eventful than you expected.

When you watched him before, he navigated the kitchen with a practiced ease that made your awkward stumbles all the more prominent.

“Where do you keep knives?” He hands you a small knife, it’s green handle foreign in your palm.

“My hands keep slipping…” You fumble with the peeled onion as Minho tends the rice, tipping in a spoonful of white wine. The sting makes your eyes water, hazing your vision of the offending white bulb.

“You need to hold it with your other hand so it stays still, like a claw.” His hair was still damp, but now the moisture was from the shower he took before starting your lesson rather than sweat. You could recognise the mint scent in his shampoo and how it spilled over to his clothing, and no matter how reasonably awful it should have smelled mixed with raw onion you were cutting and the steam of boiling rice, you couldn’t get enough of the sensation. Minho acts open around you, treating you like a friend he’s known for years rather than an acquaintance from the farmer’s market. Only a day passed since you entered his home yet you felt so seen in his eyes. You must have been testing his patience not being able to cut a straight carrot slice without his help, but he never raised his voice above a patient hum. Sure, he did laugh a few times when your cucumber sticks came out triangles rather than evenly cut stips, but even his humour came without bite. His laughter was never at your expense, and it was kindling your heart alight at an alarming speed.

Minho (and his flat) became comfortable to you rapidly, and in the passing days your interactions all came more naturally than the last. Minho would leave around noon and come home just after 7pm, looking like he ran a marathon while you’d finish up your studies and the few zoom tutorials you teach for extra income. Despite his initial apprehension, he was grateful you took on cleaning duties so easily - he still insisted on doing the dusting and cleaning his bedroom himself, but it made you feel better to have some kind of input into house upkeep when you couldn’t contribute in many other ways. In the mornings he’d pass by the living room and you try your ebay to already be awake to spare yourself the embarrassment of Minho seeing you drool in your sleep, and in the evenings you cook together. Minho insists on increasingly difficult recipes, and you try to keep up despite recurring failures.

Five days into your coexistence, Minho is late.

Of course, you’ve only been part of his schedule for a week, but his arrival never differed by more than a few minutes - the gym he worked at was just a few blocks down the road. Tonight you wait with your phone in hand as 8pm rolls around, thumbs hovering over the call button. He did tell you to call him in case anything happens, but did that go both ways? If something happened to him, would he let you know too?

You knew he would not.

You weren’t nearly as reliable in that department, and it’s not like you could do much else than call emergency services - something he would surely do himself if he could call you in the first place. You can’t quite bring yourself to sit on the couch, leaning against the doorway to the living room with your eyes on the front door so intently you almost forget to blink by the time the handle starts to turn.

The unlocking click echoes in the silence you’ve sat in for the past hour and you shoot up, straightening your posture when the door finally gives way.

“Min?”

A/N: Sorry this is a day late, I was exhausted yesterday when I got home so had to delay it a little bit but now we're started! As you can tell this will be an incredibly slow burn, but I hope you enjoy the ride and see the development grow because I promise the deeper build up is worth the wait.

Tags: @healinghyunjin @lizsvcks @glitteryskzstraykidsdream (can't tag for some reason;;) @changbinscypher @spilledtee @linours

#stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #lee know #lee Minho #Minho #skz lee know #lee know fic #lee know angst #Minho angst #Minho fluff #50/50

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liam-cadmus · 3 years ago

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The clouds are no where to be seen against the dark blue sky, the stars and moon contrasting in a different color. Various shades ranging from light blue to dark indigo blends together under the streetlights of the compound, the Uchiha insignia stitched to their backs. A faint light glows from the main house, four faint shadows seen through the shoji doors, silent against the bustling noise of children and adults hurrying to come home. The air in the dining room is tense, no tinkling laughs from the youngest nor the fond scolding of the mother to her sons’ mischievousness. Mikoto Uchiha takes another bowl of miso soup to give her youngest, as Itachi’s chopsticks holds on to a piece of seared fish, Fugaku gulping down water. Sasuke thanks his mother for the bowl before leaning forwards, listening intently to his father’s story. “You need to avoid falling for a Uzumaki or a Nara,” Fugaku murmurs gently to his youngest, as Mikoto smiles. His big dark grey doe eyes stare at them, attention captivated and memorizing every word they spout. Silence descends on the table as he collects his bearings. He knows, that his parents married out of duty, for the clan. He was able to hear it when he passed Daisuke-oji in the clan market, making him question his parents. He later asked his parents, prompting them to explain the arranged marriage, the clan needing an appropriate wife for the clan heir, later on deciding on Mikoto. She would tell them how she missed doing missions, and his father telling stories about their battles as teens. Sasuke was angry at first, knowing that his parents didn’t marry out of love, but the more time he spent to wrap it around his head, made it easier to understand. His brother is always there to clarify it, and they would ask their parents if Itachi can’t explain. They always reassure them, that despite being in an arranged marriage, it doesn’t change the fact they both love them with their whole hearts. His parents try to be subtle in front of him, but he knows. Being an Uchiha makes it impossible to not see their longing gazes, their schooled features masking their pining, their desire to be with their true lovers. They don’t regret having them, always trying their best to shower them with love, that he appreciates. ‘I couldn’t love Fugaku at first. But I learned how, even if I like girls.’ Mikoto smiles at him, ‘Fugaku found a way to be the only exception, he became dear to my heart to the point that it would break my heart if I lose him.’ Despite being the second-born, he’s a prodigy in his own right, sharp senses and lightning fast reflexes. He can see his mother’s discreet glances when they walk through the village’s streets, always trailing after the bright red hair of his aunt Kushina. ‘I love her,’ she once murmured when she was tucking him to bed, his six-year-old brain not yet aware that she’s hinting at the hot-blooded jinchuuriki. The powerful kunoichi was able to take his mother’s heart, with her bright smiles and fierce personality, while his mother aches for hers. His father, even if he rarely accompanies him, was too obvious for him to figure out. His eyes would soften when he sees Shikaku-san, his frowns lessening and replaced with faint smiles, his cold and distant expression disappearing. ‘Clan heirs rarely get to marry another, after all, they are there to serve for the best of their clan.’ He follows his father’s gaze, seated beside him on the porch as the sun sets, ‘It’s hard to oppose the clan for your own desire. Clan heirships can be passed to the second-born, although, Itachi already took it. So promise me Sasuke, fight for whoever you fall in love with.’ He stares at his parents grim expressions in front of him, the names Shikamaru and Naruto unspoken, their gazes heavy on his shoulders. He breathes out heavily before nodding. “I’ll try not to.” he ducks his head, as Mikoto sighs at him, before deft fingers ruffle his hair. “You don’t have to force yourself not to. As long as you try.” They’re only looking out for him, Naruto being the only heir of Uzumaki and Shikamaru as the only child of the Clan Head. Mikoto claps her hands, before Itachi huffs in amusement, as they start cleaning the table. He wanders to his mother’s side, helping her with the dishes, earning him a fond laugh. Fugaku rolls his eyes before leaning on the doorway of the kitchen, watching the matriarch piles the plates on the sink as Itachi and Sasuke splashes each other with suds and water. He was 8 years old when his cousin was rescued by Tsume Inuzuka in the river barely breathing, one of his sockets empty. He was turning 9 when he arrives in their house with his parents were killed in front of his eyes, his Sharingan activating in his horror, the vision being imprinted in his mind with clarity, while his vision blurs with tears. He screams when his parents drop dead in front of him as the hooded figure runs out the window, scrambling to keep his parents alive. He cauterizes their wounds, trying to stall their death as his hands get covered in his parents’ blood. His chakra spiked hard, being sensed throughout the village as Itachi runs full-speed to the compound, Kakashi on his tail as they both sensed the abrupt spike. It was two weeks before his birthday when he is looking blankly at the white wall in front of him, dried blood flaking off his fingers as Itachi paces in front of them, his masked ANBU teammates murmuring faintly by the door. He doesn’t spare a glance when the door opens in haste as he stares intently at the sparkling marble of the floor, the memory repeatedly showing up in the forefront of his mind. His brother was unapproachable, jumbled thoughts and distracted, while he’s detached, unresponsive as Minato shakes him out of his stupor, worried blue eyes staring back at him. “Sasuke, calm down, deep breaths. Focus on my breaths.” he follows his uncle’s breathing, the exaggerated breaths and counting making it easier to follow, as Kushina wipes off the blood on his trembling hands. He leans back on the chair, trying to calm down his pounding heart, as Kushina soothes him, kissing his temple. Itachi is being held by Hound, his brother still against the arms wrapped around his shoulders. Kushina tucks his head under her chin as she rubs his back, the Uchiha in her lap feeling numb. Shikaku burst open the doors as the medical-nin walks out with a grim expression, “We tried to stabilize and resuscitate. Unfortunately, they have passed away.” Sasuke’s blood runs cold, as he chokes on a breath, staring down on his shaking hands. Itachi falters, staggering to his brother as Sasuke climbs on his lap, crying. He schools hisi features to hide his grief while he comforts his brother, burying his tear-stricken face in his Sasuke’s unruly hair. He was nine-years-old when he blows bright red flames beside Itachi on the pyre, clouded onyx eyes watching the flickering flame. He doesn’t have anymore tears to shed as clan members kneel around them, making him lean on his brother on support as they let their hands drop, standing there until the flames turns to ember. “You need to avoid falling for a Uzumaki or a Nara.” he distantly remembers as he walks alongside Itachi back to the house, ignoring their sopping wet clothes. Sasuke links his fingers under his chin, averting his eyes to the window to hide his pained eyes. His knuckles turn white as he senses two males settle beside him, staying quiet and reserved as Naruto talks loudly with Shikamaru, watching them from the corner of his eyes. He hides the twitch of his lips as Naruto plans the prank on their sensei, Shikamaru scolding the blond for even attempting the ridiculous idea. The door opens, making him glance at it tiredly, only to see Kakashi. He clenches his eyes shut, before following them out the door. You need to avoid falling for a Uzumaki or a Nara. He chuckles deprecatingly, hopefully it doesn’t resort to that. Part 2 of this AU Part 3 of this AU

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beevean · 4 years ago

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SEGA and the eternal issue of the Sonic-Amy dynamic

[Translator’s note: here’s the original article written by @latin-dr-robotnik, originally written on the 26th of August 2018]

While the Bowsette phenomenon shattered the internet into a thousand pieces, it seems like the Sonic fandom is splitting itself over a completely different matter: the eternal discussion over Sonic and Amy’s dynamic, and how much it can be considered official from SEGA’s perspective.

Note: this article ended up becoming the first part of a trilogy. Stay tuned for the next two parts!

The main culprit of this new chapter of the discourse is, believe it or not, the official SEGA Shop.

Emi Jones (I don’t need to introduce her, most people in the fandom know her) brought the attention on the description of one of the new clothing pieces that appeared in the shop for Amy’s 25th birthday, which essentially invited us to “celebrate 25 years of Sonic the Hedgehog’s girlfriend”. This short sentence generated a chain reaction in the fandom, both positive and negative, and it brought to the light once again the eternal question: is it really possible that they’re actually a couple? What is the official position of SEGA about this? There are good arguments for both sides.

Eggman: If you fight my robot, we’ll be disqualified and you’ll never win that couch for that whiny little girlfriend of yours.

Sonic: SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!

*wrong answer noise*

Sonic Boom – S1E41

First and foremost, who is Amy?

Note: the article is based on Cutegirlmayra’s research in different magazines, in the games’ canon, in the differences between Japan and the West, in the structure of the relationship, and in SEGA’s marketing.

Note 2: while there will be mentions of other medias such as comics and TV series, this article will explicitly focus on the dynamic between Sonic and Amy in their official Modern versions, that is, from the videogames.

Since her official conception in Sonic CD, Amy has simply been considered our blue hedgehog’s girlfriend without any issue, but Sonic Team looked for a way to make this common cliché a little different. So a “unique” dynamic was established between them: Amy is the one chasing Sonic, Sonic tries to avoid her explicit affection, but despite this they are destined together, both in the proper canon (according to Amy’s tarot cards the two are made for each other) and outside of it (SEGA’s directives). This means that their dynamic is written in an implicit manner, and it’s never clear if Sonic wants to flee to a different galaxy to get away from Amy or if he wants to stay with her forever. Officially, there have been signs both in favor and against it, and the rest is normally left to the interpretations of the fans. Nevertheless, SEGA of Japan and SEGA of America (with the complicity of Europe) have radically different ways of dealing with the Sonamy dynamic.

Sonamy in Japan

The relationship between Sonic and Amy, with its twists and turns, is deeply rooted into the Japanese culture of the ‘90s. According with the material found by Cutegirlmayra, Sonic and Amy are a couple in Japan, no doubt about it. This simple vision is due to how the Adventure era games were written: Sonic is much more gentle and subtle with Amy, to the point that there is a clear difference in tone in the Adventure 2 scene when Sonic, about to be sent off into space in a capsule, tells Amy to take care of herself. Japan didn’t have this vision of an openly hostile Sonic or of a totally-obsessed-to-the-point-of-violence Amy, in their culture and in the game scripts everything is much more serene and acceptable. At the same time, the situation is kept under control thanks to the mandates that SEGA strictly enforces over how to write the characters: for example, one of the most infamous ones is “Sonic can’t explicitly show affection to Amy Rose”. This kind of control allows SEGA of Japan to avoid problems like the ones in the West.

Then we have Sonic Channel, the official Japanese website for information and art, where once in a while events about Sonic and Amy take place, with fans sending their fanart of the official couple.

And finally, we can’t forget Sonic X, that, despite not being part of the official game canon, clearly shows the agenda of SEGA of Japan and Sonic Team for the two characters: dozens of scenes that imply something more, many songs about love/lovers and, well, everything about the famous Episode 52 ending.

Sonamy in the West.

In the West things became more complicated. On one hand, the West came to know Sally Acorn before Amy, and the way they presented the Sonic/Sally relationship was, without any doubt, much healthier in SatAM than, for example, Sonic/Amy in Adventure (note: I purposefully won’t mention Archie Sonic here). At the same time, the differences in translation of the original Japanese scripts, and the cultural differences between these two countries on opposite sides of the world, radically changed the personalities of both characters, giving us the infamous “hysterical fan” Amy in Adventure and Heroes, the one who chases Sonic to force him to marry her. The general public’s perception quickly opposed these attitudes, seeing that they could be potentially toxic and that they undermine the very nature of Sonic. Sonic X did little to help in the West due to the strong censorship process it received when translated from Japanese to English. By 2006 the damage was done, and subsequent attempts to modify Amy’s personality, so that she was not as effusive with Sonic, have been tried over the last decade to repair their dynamics, with a little help from Sonic Boom (where the dynamic is so well written that, in the penultimate episode of season 2, Sonic literally stops racing Tails and Knuckles at Amy’s request to go buy ingredients for the cake he was making - Modern Sonic wouldn’t do that in a thousand years) and from the direction Ian Flynn has been taking the comics he’s been involved in. SEGA’s mandates were applied in the West as well, but relatively late and as a consequence of some things that were slipping out of control, like Archie Sonic. Both Flynn and the writers of Sonic Boom had to find new ways to present the characters, adjusted to both Western cultural patterns and also to the mandates of a Japanese company. Anyway, thanks to the recent accomplishments, we can deduce that the rigid structure of the official mandates is going through some changes that could mean a new agenda from SEGA to represent the Sonamy dynamic.

All of this information leaves us with the last question, that brings us back to the topic of this article and concludes it:

Could Sonamy work today?

In the last 5 years we’ve seen a series of important transformations, both in the way Amy sees the world, her responsibilities and Sonic (ex: Sonic Lost World), and in the way Sonic himself treats Amy. Sonic Forces took some pages from Boom’s book when it came to their personalities, and it seems to be the beginning of a new era, made explicit by that description appeared in the SEGA Shop that sparked today’s discussion.

In 25 years, we’ve seen Amy chasing Sonic all over the world, living a life of adventures that contradicts her dreams of a stable life and a marriage, according to her declarations in games like Adventure. At the same time, Sonic never stopped seeking adventures all over the world, both alone and with his friends, of which he became the protector, including Amy. For the Sonamy dynamic to work today, I think the most obvious solution would be for the two of them to go on adventures together. How we see love has changed a lot in the span of 25 years, and Sonic and Amy would fit well the modern stereotype of those couples that travel all over the world to find adventures, and that we see in those posts labeled “Relationship goals”; at the end of the day, Sonic and Amy are this, stereotypes that follow a certain pattern. What’s more, such a relationship can still be kept subtle and true to official mandates if we add the rest of Team Sonic to the equation, which is basically what Sonic Boom did.

No need for kisses, no need for grandiose love declarations, weddings, or forming a family. All of this would even be extremely out of character for Sonic, and I’d hate for something like this to happen. Team Sonic is the only family he needs, and the Sonamy dynamic could benefit from the adventures, the anecdotes and the moments they spend together. A race at sunset, the view of a mountain, defeating a giant robot together… that’s how I would see a canonical relationship possible, and indeed I’m not the only one who sees it that way - remember IDW Sonic #2? [Translator’s note: the article is in Spanish and outdated]

And let’s not forget about this scene from IDW Sonic #2: Sonic tells Amy that she can come on an adventure with him, but Amy refuses Sonic’s offer because of her responsibilities. Small changes like these have the potential to be slowly integrated into the official canon, and we have already seen how in Forces Amy barely bothers Sonic with her feelings.

So, when the eternal question of whether or not Sonic and Amy would work as a couple comes up again, you can say, yes! Yes, it can work without Sonic having to sacrifice his freedom, or Amy her dreams! The current context is making way for this, and while I may not think this whole SEGA store thing was completely intentional to drive the fandom crazy, I do think it’s time to start accepting the validity and potential of the couple. At the end of the day, everyone will ship what they want anyway, and that’s perfect. It will sound cliché, but remember that phrase that always circulates on social networks: "There are best friends who look like a couple, and couples who look like best friends."

#sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #sonamy #translation #analysis #personal comment: i disagree very much that amy in adventure was as crazy as she was in heroes #i think it was much more balanced and she had her shiny moments #but not my place to change the original words :P #also the bowsette joke immediately dates this article lol

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shiversdownyerspine · 4 years ago

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6. Kittenish

It’s dangerous to go alone, take this. ;)

Over a period of a week or two, life wanders on at a languid pace with only a couple of notable interruptions. The kittens have settled in quite nicely, and their personalities have started to shine. Adoringly nicknamed Thing 1 and Thing 2, the two older brothers had given you such incredulous looks, with Oscar looking nearly offended to which you laughed and quickly explained these names are temporary until something else sticks. Well...hopefully. You added that last part as you disguised amusement with uncertainty, watching as mild horror returned to their faces.

Secretly you wanted to see if the thought of bestowing such unfitting names to the kittens would inspire the three men, but even if that proves unfruitful, you're confident you'll think of something. Strangely enough, or perhaps not so strange at all considering it's you, you're tempted to name them after pasta. Long skinny noodle cats that they will one day be, it kind of fits. Hmm.

A tiny body hurdling itself around the corner of your coffee table just to scramble under it interrupts your current train of thought; Thing 1 has proven to be a firecracker and adventurer extraordinaire, getting into anything and everything with no sign of fear or hesitation. Once he gets going, he'll be in crazy mode for a while, nothing can stop him. There is seemingly no end to his energy.

Thing 1's sibling comes scampering around the same corner after him. Thing 2 is fairly mellow, but has a hidden switch. He can go from perfectly calm to bouncing off the walls without much warning or reason, and then just as suddenly he's plopped down on the carpet like nothing even happened. He is more cautious as well, preferring to test the waters before gingerly wading out into the unknown.

Thing 2 inspects the tiny paws of his brother that bat this way and that under the table, just out of reach. Losing interest, or perhaps momentarily distracted, he decides now is the time to turn the side of your sofa into a torn mess. Up on his hind quarters and ready to shred, he looks you in the eye and...his bad behavior is thwarted when Oscar lifts him up in a single hand. Bringing the fuzzball to his face, he tuts quietly and delivers the miscreant to his scratching post. You lean down to wiggle your fingers in the carpet to lure out Thing 1, who will gladly be tempted with the chance to destroy.

Oscar has been really good with them, even getting up early in the mornings now and then to assist you with feeding and bathing and whatnot. The strangest thing happened around the time he started doing this; one morning after feeding the kittens and returning to the kitchen, you had set about to grab up one of your freshly baked Strawberry Turnovers. Otto and Oscar were preoccupied with their own breakfast, but offered you nods to wish you a good morning when you entered the kitchen. Still sleepy, instead of verbally responding you offered your own ever so serious good morning nod, earning amused sounds from the two men. Noting Axel's missing presence, you chalked it up to him starting his morning with a quick shower.

Wandering over to the steaming oatmeal cooling on the stove, you ladle a couple big dollops into your bowl before adding a splash of milk to cool it down. With you sufficiently distracted, Oscar slunk out of his chair to creep up to your back with mischievous intent. The whoosh of air that left his lungs as Otto lunged and yanked him back, practically slamming the younger back into his seat, was almost enough to shift your focus. But since sleep had unfortunately remained elusive to you, your alertness had been dealt a blow.

So when you turned around to find Otto contentedly chewing a pastry and Oscar sprawled out strangely in his seat, you weren't quite sure what to make of it. You looked between the two before slowly taking your leave to enjoy your breakfast in the garden as usual. Otto started helping you with the kittens as well after that, you swear the man became your shadow whenever Oscar is around. It's a good coincidence though, as all three men have proven to be good company when they're not suspiciously questioning you. Although you must admit, with the new rules set into place and the three abiding by them, you're finding it easier and easier to open up to them.

As a matter of fact, a couple days earlier when Axel had asked you about previous work you had done before the Commission, you had found it almost effortless to answer. You had even added some technically unrelated information without thinking about it; after you left the orphanage, you had been provided for by your guardian, seeing as you were still too young to look for work. The omission of said guardian's name wasn't pushed, you reckoned it probably didn't matter all that much to the assassins.

The small town near your home had a fairly expansive farmer's market, and after seeing all manner of items and foods displayed you had tinkered with the idea of on one day becoming a seller. A good amount of your time was spent planning it all out; your main products would have been baked and home-canned goods, as even from a young age you had such a sweet tooth. Although with your fondness for gardening, you wouldn't have been surprised if you had included flowers eventually.

Realistically the threat of your ability being discovered complicated things quite a bit, so you had pondered if made-to-order goods would be a better option. Hopefully you wouldn't have been out in public too much if you chose this line of work, baking in private and delivering the goods to your customers. Maybe even having someone pick up and deliver them for you? You had kind of liked the idea of having your home be your own little bakery.

When Otto asked how long you'd been selling your baking for, you admitted it had only been for a short time. A couple of people who had seen you around town had actually commissioned you for some cakes and treats and had spread the word, but before you could really dive into the role, the Commission agent had approached you and your baking had been pushed to the side.

You don't really regret it all that much. After the orphanage, you had developed the habit of visiting the animal shelters in town. Fearing a wayward bite might give you away, your visits had been understandably rare. You had been seriously considering fostering when the agent made you an offer.

Quietly, you ponder for a moment the negative aspects of being under the Commission's thumb; you had been given a half-assed set of rules that you were to follow, basic drivel except for annoying little details you can guess are related to your ability; you were not allowed to travel, any effort to spend a prolonged period of time outside the vicinity of your home had to be approved first. Initially you had scoffed at their feeble rules, after all, this was practically what you already did to keep your ability hidden. You had accepted long ago that you were destined to be a little hermit.

It was only after recently accepting their terms that, when you had trekked to civilization to stock up on some much needed items like food and animal care products for future tasks, you had truly felt the leash tugging at your neck. As the hours passed and you made your way from shop to shop and carefully perused their selection for your necessary items, you could not shake the feeling that you were being watched. And followed.

Realizing that the 'prolonged period of time' was much shorter than you had discerned, you finished your shopping as quick as you could and headed home. You decided in the future to cut your trips short and only buy what was the utmost essential. The added risk of distraction caused by your mysterious stalker resulting in an accidental injury also served as incentive to make yourself scarce. Good grief though, it wouldn't have killed them to be a little more specific with the rules they set in place for you.

Thing 1's deceptively sharp claws and fangs prick your skin as he wraps around your ankle, snapping you back to the present. With a sharp, 'No!' and a clap of your hands, the offender releases you immediately and stares you down. Ears tucked back and tail lashing, the baby considers challenging your authority before the movement of his own tail distracts him and he decides the appendage is to suffer for his unsettlement.

You chuckle, shaking your head as Thing 1 twists and twirls in an attempt to capture his own tail. Picking him up, you deposit him carefully on the couch in hope of luring the kitten to nap. Repetitive squeaking has you peering over your shoulder to find Thing 2 ambling away from the scratching post in favor of demanding the attention and affection of the eldest brother as Oscar watches on with a grin. The older man scowls, but you all know better.

He had been quite aloof in the beginning; when the babies had arrived and the men had visited them in your bathroom, Thing 1 had immediately tried to climb up Otto's pant leg. You had fiercely fought the urge to express just how adorable you found the situation, for the kitten's paws were absolutely itty bitty when compared to Otto's fingers as he carefully detached the tiny claws from the fabric. Thing 2 had remained shy for a while, watching quietly, only to decide to toddle up to Axel and investigate him. The little Siamese kitten had decided that this man was the most interesting thing. At all times.

The assassin hadn't really reacted, but a couple days later when you had brought the babies out to explore the living room you had caught him rubbing a finger against a tiny fuzzy cheek. The ticklish caress of a knuckle teasing under your chin brushed the surface of your mind but dissipated just as quickly before you could determine why your cheeks suddenly felt a little warm. You shook the thought from your mind. Given how another time you had caught out of the corner of your eye the man picking up Thing 2 to save him from Thing 1's rough housing, it was evident that someone has a soft spot.

Relaxing next to you on the sofa, Otto blinks in surprise when the tiny terror climbs onto his thigh to wobble out on to his knee and sit quietly. Surveying his kingdom, no doubt. Perhaps he’s looking for signs of the other cats stowed away in your bedroom to give them a needed break? You must admit, you’re rather happy to say you're no longer as concerned about your cats interacting with the babies. Pumpkin still prefers to keep her distance but Butternut adores them, to the point that she has taken it upon herself to clean and carry the babies around.

A couple hours earlier, Otto had been the one to catch her mothering them. He had pointed it out, reaching for you. The large warm palm that rested on the small of your back had given you the strangest feeling, like someone was flipping your stomach like a pancake in a skillet.

With some difficulty you shoved it to the back of your mind and beamed at the man, commenting that you had hoped Butternut would be a good influence, but didn't think she'd adopt them outright. The warmth in your belly rippled when he smiled down at you, thumb sweeping back and forth so gently that you must have imagined it. You really need to get more sleep.

In the quiet of the evening, a brand new interruption to the usual routine occurred; you had been running a little late with dinner preparations as Thing 1 had decided to hide away, perhaps sensing that it was time to go back in their bathroom for the night. While you searched the living room and apologized that dinner might be a bit delayed, Axel had unconcernedly sauntered in to the kitchen, donned your colorful pawprint covered apron, and got to cooking. Delighted, you teased him not to burn down your kitchen, to which he responded that if anyone would be turning your home into kindling, it would be Oscar. Oscar's indignant shout tickled your funny bone something awful.

As you cleaned up after a lovely fish dinner, as a way to thank the eldest sibling and possibly encourage a repeat, the ‘shunk!’ of a tube in your cabinet nearly made you jump out of your skin. The Commission had finally gotten in touch with the Swedes, taking the initiative to explain the lack of missions and prolonged downtime. You listened intently as Axel read aloud.

It would seem there were changes on the horizon; as your home would be acting as their base of operations, this gave the Commission a chance in the future to implement a new experimental technology that would allow their agents to go to the time their target resided in without the use of a briefcase. Apparently the increasing misuse and destruction of the cases had sparked alarm and a new method was being looked into.

Instead of a briefcase, a sort of 'rendezvous point' was to be accessed once your agents had gathered sufficient intel and were prepared to neutralize their target. Following any unforeseen developments or challenges presented by the mission, they would find the 'rendezvous point' to your home would still be accessible if they chose to regroup and rethink their strategy.

That was it. Nothing more to satisfy your curiosity or appease your concerns; what exactly would allow these time jumps, what were the parameters, the restrictions? The chip that was imbedded in each and every one of the Commission's agents, did that have something to do with it? Certainly it would be a lot harder for a chip in one's body to be stolen or lost, possibly less costly as well compared to the briefcases? Did the infinite switchboard play a part? If an agent decided to go AWOL, would they even be able to access the 'rendezvous point' anymore or would they be cut off? You just didn't have enough information...

Shaking off the speculations, you look at the metaphorical glass as being half full. Some explanation is better than none, after all. Thoughtful, you mention that seeing how any mission or assignment is so sparsely worded, you're rather surprised the Commission would put in a little more effort to this message. Axel cocks his head, quietly considering.

From what you understand, the three men living with you are some of their best assassins, so maybe that offered certain perks? Like extra sentences? That earns you some loosely amused squints and scoffs before Otto interjects, mentioning freedom and traveling, how the three are given a lot of leeway both on and off missions. They're free to do nearly anything they want, so long as it doesn't jeopardize the mission.

Dishes all collected in the dishwasher and cycle started, you grin cheekily, remarking, "Nearly anything? Goodness, how nice that must have been..at least..."

Words trailing off, the brothers watch confused from their seats as you wander around the table, clearly intent on getting ready for bed as was customary. Pausing under the entryway, you finish your sentence.

"..until the Commission felt you all needed a slap on the wrist and a babysitter."

There was a moment of silence and utter shock, an absolute stillness before you broke it by earnestly wishing them all a goodnight.

As soon as the word left your lips, Hell was unleashed. The scandalization on their faces and the clamor of chairs scooting across the kitchen floor had you scurrying to the safety of your room with a bright bubbling laugh.

You should probably watch your back the next couple of days.

#ikea mafia #tua swedes #the swedes x reader #umbrella academy #tua axel #tua otto #tua oscar #BAM. We now have a reason that the Swedes didn't have a briefcase or suits. >:D #the swedes

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nooneactuallyasked · 4 years ago

Text

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 8

Requested: It’s a series, there are no requests here!

Word count: 2,560

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: This one is really long- the next part will be out tomorrow so be ready for that! Enjoy!

Edit: I FORGOT THE TAGLIST I’M SO SORRYYYYY!!!!!!

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Part 4 here Part 5 here Part 6 here

Part 6.5 here Part 7 here

---

“Hey, Diner Gal.”

Y/N smiled at the floor before turning around to face her surprise visitor, “How’s it hanging, Leather Boy?” She probably wouldn’t admit it out loud but Reggie’s random visits were probably the main reason why Y/N had been arriving at work extra early and leaving extra late. “Alright, Julie is kinda freaking out and getting Flynn to help her pick an outfit and then Flynn freaks out and gets Julie to help her decide on a theme for the marketing stuff. You?” Y/N shrugged, “The usual.”

“So, what can I do you for?” Reggie looked down, a red flush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “Well, I kinda wanted to just hang out because Julie and Luke are “writing some songs” but we all know it’s just a date and Alex is with Willie and I’m willing to bet my left sock that they’re on a date too and I didn’t wanna be alone so I thought that you’re really nice so I came here.” A smile danced on Y/N’s lips and her gaze softened, he was too sweet and just hearing his voice made her cheeks heat up slightly. Reggie’s eyes widened and he met her gaze, a horrified expression painting his face, “Unless you’re busy, sorry, I’ll- I’ll just go-“

“Woah, Reg, chill out. I’ve just got to plan out the way we’re gonna decorate the room on Friday. Plus, I like having you around, it makes my job a lot less boring.” Y/N smiled before grabbing a black notebook an opening it to a new page, she scribbled down a title so she’d remember what it was for before bullet pointing her ideas. “You know, I just realised, how much work do you do? I mean, you’re around the same age as us, you have a job and you basically co-manage this place whilst also working here as an entertainer. Do you even go to school?”

Y/N chuckled and turned to face him, “This is a part-time job but I do usually sneak in extra hours just to help out Cal, he can’t do everything by himself and there isn’t anyone else to help him, plus he’s a family friend and basically my uncle at this point. As for school, I do online school which I pay for with this job, and it all comes full circle.” Reggie frowned, “Still, it sounds like a lot. You should come to Julie’s sometime during practice and just hang out. No folders, no notes, no work, just hanging out and having a good time! And promise me you’ll start taking it easy”

“Alright, Leather Boy, I promise and maybe I’ll take you up on that someday. But for now, just focus on your gig that’s coming up in two days, not including today of course. Speaking of, do you mind helping me out with this, I get the impression you have a lot of ideas locked up in that brain of yours.” Reggie looked at her in surprise, “You really want my help? I mean, you could ask anyone for help, why me?” Y/N stared at Reggie, her brows furrowing as a worried expression crossed her face, “Why wouldn’t I? Reggie you’re amazing and I wouldn’t want anyone else to help me.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

---

“Finish up these papers for me, I’m going out.”

“Cal, I’m already doing more than I should, I have to finish off an essay and send it in before lunch. You haven’t even started your time listings for today yet.” Y/N blew at a piece of hair that kept falling into her eyes and glared up at Cal.

“I said finish them, I’m going out.” Cal slammed the papers onto her desk and walked out of the office. “Cal, what the fuck!” Y/N stood up, her chair slamming into the wall behind her as she ran after him, papers in hand, “Where the hell are you going?” “Out.”

Cal shot her a cold glare that made her freeze in place before walking out. Y/N groaned in frustration, throwing the papers to the floor, “Shit, fuck, kill me.” Sighing, she knelt on the floor and gathered the papers back up. “Fucking asshole, but he might have something important to do and he’s just stressed about it. Calm down, Y/N.” She kept muttering reassurance to herself so as not to lose her temper once again.

Y/N glanced down at the paper, it was her schedule for the note giving out extravaganza. Oh fuckerooney, she was meant to do that now and she was already late. Y/N ran into the office and stuffed all the notes into a bag which she slung onto her shoulder before sprinting out into the street and making her way to her first stop: Firecracker’s house.

---

“Y/N? You look like you ran all the way here…don’t tell me, you did, didn’t you.”

“Perhaps.”

Julie rolled her eyes despite the grin growing on her face, “You’re an idiot, you know that, right? And your face is really red.” Y/N gasped dramatically, bringing her hands to her cheeks in comical shock, “You don’t say?”

“Julie! Who’s at the door? Tell them to go away, we need to practice!” Both girls stared at each other for a second in slight shock before bursting into laughter, Y/N cleared her throat before turning to Julie, “You might want to cover your ears.” Julie raised a brow but complied as Y/N took a deep breath, “Oi, dunderheads! I thought you wanted your notes but I guess not!” Silence followed and it everything in her to not burst out laughing or snort. “And go…” Julie furrowed her eyebrows and the snickered at the sounds of scraping and scrambling that came from inside the garage.

“No! Please, give us the cheat sheet so we can win!”

“Not a cheat sheet and it’s not a competition but yes, please ignore him! We need your help!”

“Wait there’s a cheat sheet? No one said anything about a test!”

“Okay, boys, chill out and let her breath before she joins you in the afterlife.” Y/N sent Julie a grateful smile before setting the notes down on the coffee table and quickly stepping back as the boys (specifically Luke) dived for them. “So, as per mandatory instructions I need to explain the notes and help you use them to your advantage but I also took on all of Cal’s work until the weekend alongside my own so I hope you don’t mind me checking the finance’s, writing setlists and my essay and other work stuff. I promise you will still get the full explanation for each and every note!”

“You took on more? You already have so much, you promised that you’d take it easy!” Y/N rubbed her knuckles, “I know but Cal walked out on me earlier and hasn’t been himself lately so I needed to pick up where he left off. Plus, all the other workers need a manager and so that’s what I’ll become.” Julie sighed, stroking her finger along the piano keys as she sat down, “As longs as you’re sure it’s okay.” Reggie furrowed his brow but picked up his bass and slung it over his shoulder nonetheless, his concern and probable disappointment made the nasty, sinking feeling of guilt weigh down on Y/N. She didn’t like letting people down but she needed to do this, for her family, for Cal, for herself.

“So let’s do this, you can read through it and then I’ll walk you through it all.”

“Oh! Julie, can you call Flynn? I’d like to see what she’s got before putting everything out there.” Julie frowned, “Are you sure, you’re already doing so much, I don’t wanna-“ “Julie, it’ll be fine just call her up, I’d rather get this done, it’s now or never.” Luke snorted, Alex rolled his eyes but smiled and Reggie choked causing Y/N to raise a brow before shrugging it off, she just needed to see this through and then maybe Cal would be okay again.

A small smile made its way onto her face when she saw Julie and Luke link pinkies behind the piano, she didn’t that was possible but they were cute so you didn’t particularly us. And hey, she got Luke’s nickname spot on, so there’s also that.

“Okay, if you’re sure then I’m sure Flynn will be delighted.” Y/N grinned, “Sweetness, let me know when she’ll get here so I can prepare a space the printer in our office back at the diner.” Reggie furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, kinda like a confused puppy, “How do you prepare it? Are you leaving already?” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, “No, the printer is wireless and connects to all of the staff’s phones and laptops. Since I only have my phone on me I’ll be using that.”

“Ohhhh! That makes sense!”

“Yeah, Willie said something like that when we went sightseeing and we say printings being put out without anyone nearby.”

“That’s stupid, just draw them or something, what if the wireless breaks?”

“You’re talking loud for someone with bad handwriting.”

---

“Hey everybody, your favourite manager has arrived!”

“Thanks for coming, Flynn. Y/N is just setting up the wireless connection back to her office, have you got a copy of the flyer or something?” Flynn grinned, “You know I do, and can I just say that I really appreciate me and my talents and you should too. You’re welcome.” Julie chuckled and led Flynn over to Y/N who looked up at them with a smile. “Hey, Flynn, it’s really great to see you again. Sorry about the short notice.” Y/N picked at the tips of her nails, a bashful smile making its way onto her face, “No problem, since Julie ditched me for her invisible boyfriend and his band geek friends I haven’t had much chance to hang around, now you’re my excuse.” Julie rolled her eyes as Flynn stuck her tongue out in her direction.

Y/N chuckled and put her phone down beside her, “Well, I’m glad to be of service. So, may I see your masterpiece?” Flynn grinned and pulled her phone out of a pocket, “I thought you’d never ask.”

---

“Thanks so much, Flynn. Your flyer’s amazing, we might have to hire you properly.” Y/N winked, a bright smile on her face, “Really? I mean, these guys really need my talents but if I find some time away I might drop by.” The two girls laughed and then a thought popped into Y/N’s head. She rummaged through her bag and brought out her notebook; she ripped out a page and wrote her number onto it. “Here, Julie already has pretty much all of my contact info but I just remembered you don’t, so here’s my number.” Flynn smiled, “Thanks, I’ll put it in my phone when I get home.”

“Y/N! Do your job and help us now!” She rolled her eyes and stood up, “Once again, thanks.” Flynn sent her finger guns in return. She walked over to where the ‘band geeks’ were congregated around the piano.

“Okay, so it says ‘Remember to interact with audience members�� and ‘Move around when possible’. What does that mean?” Y/N smiled and leant against the piano, “The first one is simple, Cal really liked how you guys react with each other but since we are a performing diner the audience want to be included as well, so interact with them, send them smiles, wave at specific people, pick people out of the crows, that sort of stuff.” She shifted her body to a more comfortable position, “As for moving around, again, we’re a performing diner, everyone will have a mic pack, since you can pick up, hold and wear physical things I’m gonna assume you can wear mic packs too. I don’t know how your amps work though so just move as much as possible, Julie if you can do the most moving around that would be great, we’ll have some performers dancing and working around you but you guys are our main attraction when you’re performing. Just do what you can to the best of your ability, that's all we ask.”

“Well, I’m sure we can do that, right, boys?”

“Obviously, have you not heard us rehearse this week? We’re going blow everyone’s socks off!”

“I have a feeling anything could go badly though, what if the mic packs don’t work or one of us doesn’t appear when we start playing, or- “

“Alex, chill out, this isn’t a second hotdog, and if it is we’ll eat it so it knows who’s boss!”

“Uh, Reggie, that’s how we died, I’m pretty sure the hotdog won.”

“Huh, yeah, that checks out.”

Julie and Y/N caught each other’s eyes and burst out laughing, “Can you guys stop having your little ghostie jokes, I’m trying to boast that I’m well on my way to being a famous manager to the She-Devil herself!”

“Well, now I’ve fulfilled my part of this mission I have to head off to my next mission, Agent Y/N is officially signing out.” Julie smiles and Flynn walks up, “It was great to have you on this mission, we wish you luck in your next. Stay safe Agent, we hope to see you again.” The three girls saluted each other before snickering while the boys stared at them in confusion. Y/N walked over to her bag and slung it over her shoulder, “I’ll see you guys later.” She pushed open the garage doors, waving goodbye one last time before walking out.

Y/N started walking down the path before a loud smashing sound caught her by surprise, “Wait!” A weird sensation spread over her hand, it was warm but cold and it made her skin tingle before she felt pressure replace the weird feeling and fingers curl around her hand. “How can I help you?” Y/N turned around, plastering her customer service smile onto her face.

“Leather Boy?”

She turned to see Reggie standing there completely frozen, holding onto her hand as though it were a lifeline. “Reggie? You okay?” Reggie shook his head slightly and smiled before looking down, a sheepish expression crossing his face, “Can I hug you? Please?” Y/N’s softened and smiled brightly, “Of course, Reg. Come here.” She reached up and looped her arms around his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, “I don’t get many hugs, the guys don’t like them and I feel like it would be weird to ask Julie.”

“Well, you can hug me anytime…that sounds really weird.” Y/N chuckles as Reggie gazes at her in admiration, “So what did scream at me and- break a plant pot for?” Y/N peers behind Reggie and finds the origin of the smashing sound. “Uh, well I was going to just say goodbye but since we’re here would you mind if I came by the diner later?” Y/N smirked, “Can’t get enough of me?” Reggie grew flustered and turned his gaze to the floor, “Well- I like looking at the food but you being there is definitely a positive.” Y/N blinked, now it was her turn to be flustered, she didn’t expect him to just come out and say something like that.

“Right, yes, well, I’ll see you there then. Um, bye.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodbye.”

---

Taglist:

@hereforthejatp

@slutforjjmaybank @morganayennefertyrell

@dxestars @dcnerd98

@ultraworthlessbitch @revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts

@underc0vercryptid-reads @miisacore

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for-a-muse-of-fire · 4 years ago

Text

oh, but you’re good to me

the wench and the witcher

"oh, but you’re good to me”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Black!OFC - Zahra Auberel. Platonic!Jaskier x Zahra.

Summary: Midaëte brings the height of summer, and a reconciliation.

Warnings: Rated Mature due to brief mention of sex. Please don’t interact if you are under the age of 18.

A/N: Well, what started as a simple reader insert character grew into a fully-formed OC through the course of this series. And now we have reached the end! Well, mostly. I have some random outtakes and drabbles that I’m sure will crop up, but my (eventual) multi-chapter will feature Geralt and Zahra as they navigate some... interesting magical developments.

But, for now, I call this the end of The Wench and The Witcher. Thank you guys so much for your kind words, reblogs, likes - this is honestly the most I’ve written in years and knowing that y’all have enjoyed it warms the cockles of my heart. Title and lyrics under the cut from Hozier’s “Would That I” which I think might be my favorite Hozier song full-stop, hands down.

@coconutxraikage - @onyour-right - @ly–canthrope - @kianya-loves - @c-s-stars - @gczanetti1 - @alwaysnatz - @agniavateira - @owillofthewisps - @hina-chans-stuff - @yespolkadotkitty - @wastingmypotential - @inber

With each love I cut loose, I was never the same Watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Layin' waste to my lovin' long ago

“Contracts from the butcher and the miller,” Lucja rattles off. “And Jaskier returned your message – says he’s very much looking forward to performing for the solstice festival.”

She gives a hum as she thumbs through the stack of papers on the desk. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, as well,” she teases.

Lucja’s pretty round face goes pink, making her employer grin. The older woman pauses when she finds an unfamiliar piece of folded parchment among the stack of invoices. Slim brown fingers unfold the sharply folded letter and suddenly her heart is in her throat. “Lucja… where did this come from?”

“Oh… it, ah, came with Jaskier’s reply. Do you want me to get rid of it?”

Though half-tempted to let Lucja burn the letter, she bites her lip and shakes her head. “No,” she murmurs. “Thank you, Lu’ – that will be all.”

Her young barmaid flashes a sympathetic smile and closes the door behind her. The neatly looped scrawl of the letter makes something around her heart ache. She’d always been surprised by how tidy the Witcher’s handwriting was:

I don’t

This isn’t what

I’m not – fucking shit fuck

The first time I saw you, it was like walking into the light of the sun after half a lifetime in the cold. And it was so fucking cold that night.

You were like summer.

It’s cold again now, without you. I don’t know what I’m doing

Two weeks later:

I wanted want wanted to bring you to see Kaer Mohren. I know you said you like the ocean more than the mountains, but I think this place could change your mind. You would get on with Eskel like a house on fire. He’s more of a southerner, like you.

I told him about the time you tried to teach me to cook and he nearly pissed himself laughing.

Lambert’s a shit. Vesemir already likes you.

You’d like it here. The kitchen is nearly as big as the whole front room of the tavern. Library’s bigger.

Garden’s a fucking nightmare, though.

We could go to the ocean, too. Anywhere you want.

The missives don’t come with any real regularity. A few at a time, a week-long gap, but they never stop. She thinks about writing back, at first, but deciphering where the Witcher is would likely be impossible and… gods, she’s still so damned angry. The White Wolf receives no reply.

Regardless, the letters keep coming.

The thing is, I don’t know what else there is besides The Path - this life of slaying monsters and getting paid in coin. I was told that was all I needed and I believed it for a very long time. There was nothing to challenge that, not until I met you.

You were are so fucking beautiful. And warm, and bright, and vulgar, and kind, and a pain in my ass and I should have told you how much you meant to me, but I couldn’t parse it out until just now, and I am an idiot. And a coward. I thought that telling myself you were an amusement would be enough, that I would be content with warming your bed, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t keep lying about how much I need you.

I need you, Zee. It feels like I’m missing my fucking sword arm.

The words on the page blur together. She brushes them with her fingertips, almost smiling even as the tears catch in her lashes:

I miss the way you laugh at Jaskier’s dirty songs.

I miss the way you used my legs to keep your feet warm at night.

I miss that fucking rabbit stew.

I miss the way you’d look at me when I walked in the door.

I miss the sounds you make when I’m inside of you. The way you taste.

I miss your eyes. And your smile.

Your voice. Your terrible fucking singing.

You are my home. You’re my harbor and my safe haven.

I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

---

Midaëte approaches. With it, a week’s worth of festivities, and food and drink, leading up to the day of the solstice. It means early mornings in the kitchen and late nights in the tavern. The evenings are balmy, windows and doors thrown open to allow the scent of summer air and night-blooming flowers to drift through.

For a time, she is so busy that she forgets to be heartsore. Geralt’s letters – page after yellowing page – sit tied with a gold ribbon in her desk drawer. Confessions and apologies, promises and rambling stories that she keeps picking up to read again and again. It’s a veritable book, more than he’d ever seen fit to say in person and she’s not sure whether to be infuriated or hopeful, but there’s barely time. Thank the gods.

Business booms, between trades-folk coming in for the market day, then musicians, then families. She drinks a little, dances when there is time; she lets Lucja weave tiny yellow purple flowers into her hair for Midaëte Eve and dresses in white and yellow to enjoy the evening. Or try to, at least. The main room is full almost to bursting, patrons laughing, carousing, and eventually spilling out into the courtyard to dance in the falling dusk.

Zahra watches from the doorway. A few try to tempt her into the circle for a reel and they receive a grateful smile with her refusal. Jaskier, however, will not be deterred.

“You, dear lady,” he croons. “Look too lovely to be hiding in the shadows.”

“Jas…”

“One dance. Just one – you might even have fun by mistake.”

She rolls her eyes, but the bard just grins and lifts her hand for a kiss. He leads her, hand-in-hand out to the courtyard; Jaskier gives a nod to his fellow players and they begin with a sharp beat that eases into a lovely, familiar melody.

“You know this one, ducky?” Jaskier queries with a smile. She nods and he takes the lead.

It’s a simple step, to start with. A sweet back and forth to match the sweet, flowing verse of the song. The touch of Jaskier’s hand on her low back offers guidance, keeps her moving in gentle circles around him until the real movement begins. Swinging, agile steps carry Zahra and her partner around in wide loops. The mingle with other dancers, threading hands to spin back together and then apart.

Jaskier grips her waist across the front, and she follows suit. The dizzying spin turns the world into a wash of summer colors for a moment and she can’t help but laugh. It feels good to be light again.

The bard turns her under his arm and into the hands of the next man. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where she considers bowing out and going back to her corner, but the tabor still thrums in her blood and it’s such a beautiful night.

Still smiling, she curtsies, and is lead back through the steps again. Her partner leads easily, light of foot and loose of tongue – from her ale, more like than not – but he’s kind, and sweet, and so funny that she’s nearly in tears when she’s suddenly spun away to her next partner. She catches the fabric of her skirts to add a flourish to the spin; the soft yellow cotton dances with her.

When spins to a stop, she sees black, at first. Matte black buttons, black tunic shirt – worn, but cleaner than it usually is. The silver wolf’s head medallion sparks in the torchlight.

Zahra looks up into the face of Geralt of Rivia and the music goes dull behind the roar of blood in her ears. It feels a bit like standing on a ledge cliff and looking down to gauge the fall. She feels dizzy, and terrified, and wonderfully breathless. Heart in her mouth, she spies Jaskier out of the corner of her eye.

The bard grins. Bastard.

“Zahra…”

The Witcher’s voice rumbles through her like soft summer thunder. Strong fingers grip hers, and he lifts her knuckles to his lips. His honey-gold eyes are more earnest and honest than she’s ever seen them – he asks the question without moving his lips. Zahra nods.

Geralt leads her in the dance and everything falls away.

She hears the music, feels it sing through her, but her focus remains on the white-haired mutant at her side. His hand spans her back, warm through her dress and stays; the lightest pressure of his fingertips, or palm, guides her to turn, or step, or pivot in time with him. It shouldn’t be surprising to her, how well he moves – she’s seen him fight, and his grace with a sword, and how would dancing be any different? He doesn’t look away from her once and the heat of his gaze flushes over her. The Witcher very nearly smiles.

Geralt turns her under his arm, guides her through the last few measures of the song. He steps away, takes his warmth with him, and bows. Zahra curtsies in return.

The crowd, the rest of the world, rushes back over them. The townsfolk whistle, and stomp, for a moment determined to swarm in and start up another country dance, and Geralt grips her hand tight for a moment. She sees him hesitate before he asks, simply, “Can we talk?”

Most of the party has spilled into the streets, leaving the tavern itself practically empty. Lucja still keeps to her spot behind the bar, green eyes going wide when she spies Zahra and her guest in tow. The girl’s pretty face splits into a knowing smile that makes Zahra’s face go hot.

It’s mostly dark in her study. The small hearth fire has gone to smoldering embers, and it gives her the opportunity to light a few candles and collect her utterly scattered thoughts. She flicks out the last taper and finally looks up at Geralt. He stands just inside the closed door, just as he used to. It’s familiar – it feels like it’s been years, or decades, or maybe just a few hours. His honey-colored gaze still holds a heat that sings over her skin. She drops her eyes to the desk.

The last letter sits there, creased and folded from how many times she’s read it. Zahra picks at the parchment. Keeping her focus on Geralt’s neat lettering seems easier than looking at the Witcher himself. “Did Jaskier put you up to this?” she teases half-heartedly.

Geralt exhales on a chuckle. “Something like. Threatened to garrote me with a lute string.”

She smiles, in spite of herself. When she lifts her head and meets his eyes, it takes a moment to catch her breath. For a few heartbeats, she simply stares. Gods, he is still so beautiful. She swallows hard and feels her throat go dry.

“Did you mean what you wrote?” she asks.

“You know I did, Zee.”

Gold eyes go guarded again. He doesn’t go totally cold, but she can see the way he builds up his walls to prepare for the worst. He steps forward. Second-guesses – stops.

“What I do – what I am – I can’t change it,” he rumbles. “I’m still a Witcher, Zahra. A mutant. I can’t… I can’t give you normal, sweetheart – ”

“Gods, Geralt - fuck normal.”

---

“Fuck normal.”

She says it with such passionate certainty that it startles a laugh out of him. The soft yellow of her skirt floats like woven sunlight around her legs. Like the sun, it almost hurts to look at her, but fuck all, that’s all he wants to do. He watches her face, watches her chew her lip; feels his slow pulse try to speed up when she steps closer. His fingers itch to curl around her waist.

“I never asked for normal, Geralt,” she whispers. The way her voice cracks pulls tight around his heart. “I don’t want normal. I want you. That’s it. Can… can you give me that, or no?”

The Witcher’s footfalls carry him to her. He studies her face; re-acquaints himself with the curve of her cheek and the dimple that presses there. She all but melts into his touch when his thumb brushes her cheek. He pulls her into the circle of his arms. She’s still soft, and warm; he closes his eyes, feels his muscles go lax with relief when she holds fast, locking her arms around his back. Geralt presses his face against the smooth curve of her shoulder.

It feels like stepping into the light of the sun after ages in cold and rain. “I love you, Zahra,” he breathes.

Her soft, tearful laugh settles warm into his heart. “I love you, Geralt.”

He gives a pleased murmur, lets the tip of his nose trail lazy circles over her shoulder. When he inhales, the warm, soft smell of her skin eases back into his lungs. From shoulder to neck, the Witcher draws in slow breaths and ghosts his lips over the exposed skin he finds until Zahra shivers. “What are you doing, Witcher?” she whispers, breathless.

“Hmm… taking your scent back,” he mumbles. “I missed this smell.”

His lips ease along the shell of her ear. She still gasps when he nips at the crux of her jaw. “I missed you, love,” he growls.

Geralt takes his time. He savors the smell and the taste of her skin, humming lowly when Zahra’s hands grip at his back. The sweetness of her begins to bloom with heat, with the richness of desire – want – and when he sets his teeth gently against her pulse point, she moans delicately. Insistent fingers tangle in his hair; she whispers his name and pulls him to her lips. She kisses him like a woman starved and it feels like his heart might thunder its way free of his chest. He lifts her onto the edge of the desk and comes to stand between her parted thighs, gathering the soft yellow cotton of her skirts up. Her fingers yank at the buttons on his trousers.

It’s a quick, desperate of coupling. Mingled breath and bitten off sighs – greedy kisses with fingers gripped in the front of his shirt. She flutters hotly around his cock with a whimper and a curse. He groans against her mouth when he comes. Zahra drinks down the noise with a grin on her lips.

Geralt stays put for more than a year. It’s good.

The Path still calls, and he still follows, but she finds she’s able to let go of the fear. It’s no longer a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ in terms of Geralt’s return. And if he knows it’s going to be a long journey, or if the mood simply strikes him, he writes -

I miss you.

I love you.

Sometimes no more than a line, sometimes full paragraphs – even pages – but he always tells her when he plans to return. When he’ll be home.

It’s nearly spring next time he rides back in, market day in full swing as he passes through the township gate with Roach at his side. Vendors call their wares, families and merchants wander the stalls as he peers out from the shadow of his cloak. He finds the trail of Zahra’s scent past the cloying smell of cut flowers and rounds to corner to find her chatting with the butcher’s daughter.

The younger woman catches his gaze. Geralt watches the girl grin and give his woman – his woman – a nudge, nodding in his direction. Zahra is already smiling when she turns, and the Witcher has the pleasure of watching her face flash from surprise to joy in the space of a heartbeat. She moves to him, a walk that becomes a jog, and then a final sprint that launches her into his arms. He curls his free arm tight around her waist. Immediately, he has his face pressed to her hair. Zahra’s laughter rings softly in his ears when she draws back, just enough to look up into his face.

At her throat, the polished wolf’s tooth is bright against her brown skin. “Welcome home, my love,” she murmurs.

The greeting settles warm over him like the sunlight. Geralt pulls her close again, kissing her in full view of half the town. She shivers sweetly in his arms and pulls her fingers through his hair. He hears a wolf-whistle, and a smattering of applause that makes Zahra giggle against his mouth.

“People are staring,” she teases softly.

He smirks. “Let them,” he tells her before kissing her once more. She tastes of clover honey.

She smells of sunshine.

She feels like home.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt x ofc #the witcher #oc: zahra auberel #orignal character #the witcher netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #the wench and the witcher #tutu scribbles

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thankskenpenders · 5 years ago

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So, about the movie...

At long last, a week after it came out, I was finally able to see the Sonic movie. The Daytona 500 being held across the street from my favorite theater and conflicting work schedules had been keeping me away, but now I’ve finally seen it. And it was...

Decent!

Which is way, way, way, way, way better than a movie with this awful premise has any right being. That’s for damn sure. I enjoyed my time at the theater. I don’t know how they did it, but they did it. If you like Sonic and haven’t already seen it, you will probably get a kick out of this film. If you don’t like Sonic (or Jim Carrey), there is very little in this movie for you

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, it’s time to break that whole movie down. This will contain full spoilers for the Sonic movie

This movie kinda gave me deja vu because it’s set up so similarly to the Bumblebee movie. Both open with a slavishly faithful CGI sequence on another planet to ensure long time fans that the creative team gives a shit, but a conflict sends the title character to Earth. There, they form an emotional bond with the human lead as they’re pursued by the bad guys, who are working with the US government and tracking the energy signature of the title character. This setup worked extremely well for Bumblebee, because it’s so similar to the usual plot of Transformers. For Sonic, it was... a mixed bag. But it worked better than I expected

(This shot does not happen in the movie.)

That opening though, huh? Green Hill Zone looked great, and I was pleasantly surprised to see they did, in fact, use the Hyper Potions track from Sonic Mania in the actual film. (The piano rendition of the Green Hill theme used later was also lovely.) Longclaw was also interesting. I’ve seen one person bring up all the bird-themed ruins in Sonic 1 and 2 as a possible source of inspiration for the character, and I think that’s a valid take. And man, the echidnas! I wasn’t expecting that AT ALL. I guess that was probably the Knuckles Clan or something? I would never, ever picture them being alive during Sonic’s lifetime, but like... I guess Knuckles had to come from somewhere, right? If they do another movie with Knuckles, will the rest of his kind have died out?

Sadly, though, this sequence felt like it was over in a heartbeat. We barely see Sonic’s life on his home planet, and we’re expected to feel emotional over Longclaw’s sacrifice when she only gets like three lines before Sonic is sent to Earth. This is a common theme with the film--it goes for these big emotional beats that it just does not earn with its rapid fire pacing

Anyway, then we fast forward and Sonic’s a teen. This is actually kind of an interesting one if you’re constantly neck deep in Sonic Character Analysis like me, because it’s a pretty different take on the character. It’s hard to give them credit for doing something somewhat fresh with the character, though, because like... how much of that was intentional, and how much was just Hollywood writers trying to squeeze a generic action-adventure movie out of Sonic? (Honestly, it’s probably mostly the latter.)

The closest other piece of Sonic media to the movie would probably be Sonic X, a story in which Sonic isn’t really the protagonist. The Sonic of the anime is fairly emotionally distant. He cares deeply about his friends, and does nice things for them, but he’s totally fine with running off on his own for extended lengths of time, and he doesn’t really talk about his feelings. He’s not the character the audience is meant to sympathize with, but is instead this cool older kid who Chris wants to impress. This is pretty much in line with how Sega likes to depict the character. He cares about his friends, but he’s also cool with being a loner. It feels like he only runs into them incidentally, usually when Eggman is causing trouble, and then when the crisis of the week is taken care of he’s back to going on his own adventures. There’s a reason why one of his catchphrases is “long time no see”

The Sonic of the movie is the polar opposite. His main conflict is that he’s lonely and desperately seeks friendship. He’s also an overly-eager, extremely earnest goober. He literally flosses twice. (Which I loved.) I’ve seen him compared to Silver, and honestly, that’s not a bad comparison. I did like it, though! I don’t mind Sonic being a more emotionally open character, like he was in a lot of older Western media. I mean, he cried in like the second or third episode of SatAM

It’s just that, like many things in the movie, it feels less like a deliberate creative choice and more like a logical string of decisions to make when writing a generic action-adventure film for general audiences. Sonic’s the only one of his kind on Earth, so of course he’d be lonely. He has to have some sort of arc for audiences to connect with him, and if he’s gotta be accompanied by James Marsden for the whole movie, well, his arc’s gotta be about them becoming friends

I’ve gotta say, though: Ben Schwartz is great as Sonic. As much as I like Roger Craig Smith, I wouldn’t complain if he became the new main voice of the character. And thanks to the redesign, he looked great. I can’t imagine how nightmarish this movie would’ve been if Sonic wasn’t cute

My main fear with this movie, though, was that Sonic wouldn’t really be the protagonist. As a fan of Transformers, I know all too well that the cost of doing a full CGI character usually means that said character can’t really be the star of the film. Optimus and Bumblebee aren’t the stars of the Transformers movies--they’re supporting characters who are primarily present for the sake of the action scenes. The humans are the real stars in those movies, and the robots are barely even characters. I was terrified that Sonic would be the same, with the actual character I paid to see taking a backseat to James Marsden The Cop

I’m not quite sure if they struck the right balance there, but they did better than I worried they would. Sonic is central enough to the film and gets enough screentime that you can easily say he’s the protagonist. BUT there is absolutely too much of Tom and his family. The human cast is fine, the performances are fine, and there were a few good jokes, but every time the movie tried to get me to care about Tom’s life I was bored out of my mind. It’s just so trite and passionless. The other characters barely felt fleshed out at all, including Tom’s girlfriend (wife?) and Agent Stone. The little girl who gives Sonic the shoes had some cute moments, though

I do, however, love the part in which James Marsden is walking around in a San Francisco t-shirt, to remind us that he’s planning on moving to San Francisco... which then becomes the excuse for Sonic to think about San Francisco and accidentally send his warp rings there, which becomes the excuse for the buddy road trip aspect of the film. And as much as that was a focus of the marketing, the actual road trip part is like... maybe 20 minutes of the movie? There’s like three scenes with Sonic and Tom on the road and then they’re in San Francisco for act 3. The movie tries to act like they’ve formed this deep bond and I just did not give a shit. I don’t care about the cop. All Cops Are Bastards, and that absolutely includes Tom, whose dream in life is to join the extremely corrupt San Francisco PD

The whole excuse for Sonic having to sit in the passenger seat of a car going the speed limit for a good chunk of the movie is also, just. Stupid. If he doesn’t know where San Francisco is and time is of the essence, just... give him a map?

And then there’s Jim Carrey. I was worried about this one. The previews tended to highlight his most Jim Carrey Being Wacky moments, and as fond as I am of movies like The Truman Show and Bruce Almighty, that’s just. That’s not Robotnik. I was pleasantly surprised by the actual movie, though! I thought he was pretty good. I’m not sure what incarnation of Eggman I’d most compare him to, but like... it was close enough, and he was entertaining enough. I’d pay to go see another movie with him as Robotnik. Sure. (Especially with how he was looking at the end of the film.)

There were some other little interesting tidbits here with Eggman, although again, a lot of that is less “let’s do a new take on Eggman” and more “let’s do a marketable movie with Eggman in it, which requires us to explain some stuff.” Like him straight up just being a normal human from Earth, with none of the confusion present in the current “two worlds” canon of the games. Or him apparently being an orphan who was bullied in school, and who trusts machines more than other humans. It’s a safe way to depict the character in a Hollywood movie, but I thought it worked

The way they got to his nickname was kind of funny, though. Like, obviously they didn’t put Jim Carrey in a fat suit, and thank god for that. So instead of mocking his weight, the nickname is derived from the egg-shaped robots he uses. Which made sense, I guess. It at least felt logical for this incarnation of Sonic, who had annoyingly been calling Tom “Donut Lord” the whole movie, to make up the nickname “Eggman.” (Said robots, by the way, were a weak point of the movie to me. They just didn’t have that Eggman whimsy and felt very safe and very Hollywood. Honestly, though, if they had just made Robotnik’s ship grey and slapped some hazard stripes on it, it’d probably be fine.)

As a whole, I thought the humor of the movie was... okay. Sonic had a lot of good moments thanks to Schwartz’s great performance, as did Robotnik. There were just so many weird lines, like James Marsden telling Robotnik that he was breast fed, or the agonizingly long child trafficking joke with Sonic in the duffel bag. Stuff like that

The action was great, though. They definitely owe a lot to the Quicksilver scene in that one X-men movie (I forget the one), but they had a lot of fun with Sonic’s powers and it felt extremely true to the character. Seeing him do one of his Smash poses during the San Francisco fight was great. The action scenes were an absolute delight

And then the ending. Oh, that ending

So, I had already heard that Tails shows up in the stinger before I saw the film. And when I heard that, I expected it to be like, the classic Tails origin story. Maybe Sonic would return to his planet, and run into this precocious kid who decides to follow him around... but no! Not at all! Tails is already the Tails we know and love. He’s already an inventor, he’s already tracking down Sonic. I’m shocked that Sonic actually stayed with Tom instead of running off to have new adventures, but hopefully this is a sign that more characters will be brought into the fray if they make a sequel

And boy, they better make that damn sequel. This movie had a great opening weekend and a positive reception. They have no excuse not to. GIVE US SONIC AND TAILS GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

Other stray thoughts

Holy shit they put Sanic in the movie

The Sega logo animation meant that Kiryu from Yakuza was in this movie for a few seconds

The pixel art credits sequence, which featured both the Sonic 2 special stage and Get Blue Spheres as well as the Eggman logo screens from the Studiopolis Zone boss, was cute

The Saturn logo could be seen on the diagram of the other habitable planets

Robotnik had a label for “Badniks” on his circuit breaker. I wonder if the drones in the movie are intended to be Badniks, or if we’ll see actual ones if a sequel gets made

Also, was it implied that Robotnik committed war crimes for the US government

One of the government guys who I think only got one line was played by Garry Chalk and as such sounded exactly like Optimus Primal

I can’t tell if Sonic getting a red race car bed was an intentional shout out to the Archie comics or if it’s just a coincidence, but I loved it

A dude about my age wearing a Sonic Mania t-shirt literally stood up and clutched his head in shock when Tails showed up

After the movie a very excited kid got his mom to take his photo with the Sonic display in the lobby. Afterwards he was so excited that he flossed

I can’t believe they talked about Olive Garden so much

#tkp post #other media #sonic movie spoilers

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years ago

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Come Over (2/7)

Summary: You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.

Pairing: Neighbor!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Notes: Thank you everybody for the amazing feedback on the first chapter! I don’t think I’ve ever had that much response from the get go on a new series. Anyways, this part’s a bit longer. Feedback/comments/reblogs are always appreciated! ♥ P.S. - Not sure how many of you saw my recent post regarding tag lists but I figure I’d mention it here: I am not longer doing tag lists. Honestly the work to payoff ratio is so off there’s no point in my doing them anymore, coupled with the fact that Google docs is unreliable. More than half the people on these lists don’t interact with the stories they’re tagged for anyways, so I’m just not doing tag lists anymore. Please don’t ask me for tags.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Your first day at Stark Industries goes perfectly. Tony is a little ...out there for lack of better terminology, but overall he is the perfect boss—not too needy except in his caffeine addiction. He doesn’t go easy on you, firing off press conferences and meetings and so many other events at you in some funny attempt to get you to slip up. You surprise him by repeating each event, date and time included, in perfect chronological order. Behind his sunglasses, his dark eyebrows raise.

Your lunch is taken at your desk as you fill in your new planner with all the events Tony had given you. Your entire month of September seems to be filled to the brim with meetings you’re required to sit on, presentations of new tech, and luncheons with other big conglomerates in the industry. It’s overwhelming, but you didn’t plunge yourself into massive student debt for easy.

You even get a chance to meet a few of your coworkers when you step out for coffee for both you and Tony. Unsurprisingly, he takes it black with two sugars. A brunette woman and a tall man with glasses stand in front of you in the coffee shop on the bottom floor of the building, and when she notices you, she smiles and turns around to fully face you.

“You must be Tony’s new assistant,” she says. Returning her smile, you nod and throw out a hand.

“Y/N.”

“Wanda. And this is Vis, he works in Finance for Stark Industries.” The tall man smiles too and instead of shaking your hand, he kisses the back of it. Wanda giggles at the surprised look on your face and lightly slaps Vis in the chest.

“Vis, don’t scare the poor girl on her first day.”

The two of them step up to the counter and order, and Wanda waits while you do the same. She pulls you into a light conversation, asking how your first day is going, what it’s like so far working for Tony, where you moved from, and you answer them all easily. Wanda seems to be an easygoing person, one you look forward to getting to know better. Vis is quiet, but he interjects here and there for clarification on some things or to ask you questions of his own.

Wanda works in Marketing for the company, a huge duty in your opinion, but she seems to like the responsibility. She’s funny and sweet, and the three of you get into the elevator together once you all have your coffees. After exchanging numbers and a promise for a night out together soon, you part ways. Tony’s on the phone when you step into his office after knocking lightly with your knuckles, and he waves you in while telling the person on the other line just where he can shove “such a bullshit offer”.

Your face must show your slight shock at Tony’s mannerism because he smirks and accepts the coffee you hold out to him, downing half of it in a single gulp. He jiggles the cup idly.

“Sometimes you gotta play a little hardball. I’m expecting his call back in about, oh, twenty minutes,” he boasts, spinning on his heel to saunter over to the workstation set up in his office. “So, new blood, why me?”

You’re momentarily surprised by the question; most of your day had been spent following Tony around and scribbling down notes, and now you find yourself put on the spot by his suddenly asking about you. Mentally you fumble for an answer, your confidence a little wobbly after the surprise wears off.

“Where else am I going to be part of the greatest technology to ever exist?” is the response you settle on, if only to stroke Tony’s wild ego a bit. He grins cheekily and sips at his coffee.

“I like you,” he mutters, as if to himself.

He asks you a few more personal questions about yourself, questions that weren’t answered in the interview he regrettably, so he says, could not be present for. It feels rather odd having this kind of rapport with your boss, but it definitely doesn’t feel like a bad thing. Your previous employers only cared about your being on time and getting your work done, but Tony seems to take an honest interest in your schooling, your experiences, and where you see yourself headed in the future.

“Yikes,” he yelps when he checks the Stark Watch on his wrist. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long. I’m sure you have some work to finish up before you go home.”

He says it with an apologetic smile behind his sunglasses, and the responding smirk you send him feels natural.

“Of course, Mr. Stark—”

“Ah, ah, Tony, please. Mr. Stark makes me sound old and cynical.”

You snort. “Very well, Tony. If I don’t see you before I leave I’ll see you in the morning for our seven AM meeting with AIMTech.”

Winking quickly, you spin around and head back to your office, humming lowly but happily. Your first day at Stark Industries has gotten much better than expected and it puts a small spring in your step as you head back to your office. Office. You can’t even believe that as a personal assistant you’re entitled to an actual office as opposed to just a desk out in the open. But, from what you could gather from talking to Wanda, working for Stark Industries won’t feel like work at all.

You finish keying in changes and adjustments to Tony’s schedule that you’ve received via email. Fortunately, your meeting the next morning remains unchanged, but you feel secure in staying on top of everything. There’s a comfort and a calmness that comes with strict, almost obsessive organization for you. Things feel complete, in their proper places, and so you spend the last fifteen minutes of your work day organizing and reorganizing your desk in a fashion that seems most efficient and less hectic. Your planner is within easy reach, and your computer calendar is pinned to your taskbar. You feel good, at home here, where you can keep someone else’s life perfectly organized.

You take the subway home, earbuds shoved in your ears and streaming the latest episode to the My Favorite Murder podcast. Your feet are a little sore from your shoes, only slight relief when you shift your weight and readjust your feet inside them. The couch, a blanket, and some tea are desperately calling your name as you step off the subway and walking stiffly back to your apartment building. Your first real day in the city had been spent familiarizing and memorizing the routes to and from work so as not to be late for your first day. Now you know it perfectly and you greet the doorman to your building with a tired smile.

Your day was invigorating, but man, are you exhausted. Now that the pressure to be professional and keep focus is off, you allow your shoulders to drop with a sigh. The rickety elevator doors open with a squeak and you step inside and lean against the cool metal of the back wall.

Bucky is in the hallway when the doors open on your floor, looking like he’d just gotten home from work himself and on the phone. Your steps falter a little at the look on his face; it’s pinched, brows furrowed low over his eyes and jaw muscles jumping. You can’t hear him from the elevator where you wait, his voice is low and hurried and sharp. He’s arguing with someone, that much is obvious.

Carefully you step forward, acting as if you weren’t assessing him and his body language, and busy yourself with unlocking your door.

“Oh, hey.”

You look up and over at Bucky, who has ended his phone call apparently but still holds the device in his hand. His smile is faint, and you give him a small, tired one of your own.

“Hi Bucky. Long day?” He catches the quick glance you give his phone and huffs, shoves it roughly into his pocket as if he wants to forget to conversation that’s just taken place.

“Somethin’ like that. How about you? You look tired, doll.” You swallow at the pet name, the way it rolls off his tongue lighting something warm in your belly. It’s forgotten though when Bucky’s face brightens with realization. “Oh! Today was your first day with Stark wasn’t it? How’d it go?”

“It went very well actually. Tony Stark is...not who I imagined he’d be when I first applied to work for him. He’s better, but he’s definitely way more out there than I’d expected.”

The two of you shoot the shit back and forth for a few minutes longer, Bucky’s previous phone call nearly forgotten until it rings again and his face falls when he checks the caller ID. He wags his phone in the air as it continues to shriek.

“I should take this. Hey, um, maybe this weekend you can tell me all about your first week?” He looks shy when he asks, and it only serves to make your face flush crimson. “O-Only if you want to, that is. I’m sure you’re still trying to get settled in.”

“I’d love to,” you interject before he can go off on a nervous tangent. “Maybe you can come over for coffee and help me assemble some furniture?”

“Sure,” he replies softly and with a grin. He seems to have forgotten about his phone until its ringing shatters the small silence again, and he frowns. “I’ll see you, Y/N.”

“Bye Bucky.” You just get the words out before his door closes and the lock flips.

Sighing, you enter your own apartment and kick the heels off your feet, wiggle your toes to get some feeling back into them. Through the walls of your apartment, you can hear Bucky’s raised voice, though it’s still muffled enough that you can’t make out the words.

Truth is, you’ve heard Bucky arguing a lot the past few days. Despite only been here a week, you’ve come to enjoy having Bucky as a neighbor. He’s a tattoo artist, you’ve learned, which explains sometimes why he’s home or away at weird hours, and you’re not surprised to learn he designed his own tattoos. And aside from the recent conflict that seeps through your conjoined walls, he’s quiet and doesn’t do anything untoward that would have you calling the landlord. He says hi to you when he sees you in the hallway or at the mailbox, asks about your day, and goes on his merry way.

And because of all that you may have developed just a teensy crush on the guy, for which you’ve scolded yourself because how could you possibly like a guy you’ve known, barely, a week?

With a small grunt, you head to the kitchen for a hefty glass of much deserved wine.

Chapter Three

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes neighbor au #neighbor au #neighbor!bucky

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grapenamjams · 4 years ago

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Summer Festival

Genre: Fluff of course XD

Characters: Muriel from the arcana and my apprentice Eliza

A/N: And this concludes my Arcana writing spurt that I had last month XD . if you have read my past posts thank you so much and if this is the first post you read of mine thank you! it means so much to me and i hope my story/ stories help you escape for a little while, :) I hope you all have a nice day/night

a little bit about my MC

Her name is Eliza (she/her. Female.) She is 5′2 has brown wavy hair, brown eyes (with specks of green) she also has adorable freckles across her nose. lastly she has a artic fox, named Nell as a familiar who is enchanted to keep cold during the summer and whenever Nell walks she leaves behind snow prints on the ground (think of what Olaf from frozen has lol)

The shop was packed as it always was during the summer festival. travelers from all regions coming to celebrate the end of summer in vesuvia made for new eager clients to purchase ingredients, potions and of course getting their readings done. This year Asra let Eliza be in charge of the readings, while he took care of the shop. Asra had said that she was ready to handle the Arcana on her own but as what felt like her 100th customer leave through the curtains. she was beginning to feel the toll of using the cards for so long, she could even feel Nell beginning to tire as the fox laid down underneath her seat. however the cards themselves seemed to be mocking her as they Pulsed with energy at being used so much.

She sighed closing her eyes for a second until she heard footsteps approach, she sat up quickly ready to attend another client But familiar fluffy white curls poked through the curtain, Asra entered the space giving her a warm smile “how are you holding up?” Eliza slouches back into her seat and lets out a breath “I don’t know how you did it all these years, I’m so tired I fear I might fall asleep on the next customer” she looks at Asra and he lets out a soft laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, the cards love attention and can take a toll on the reader, but you are doing well containing them, I’m proud” Eliza can’t help but blush at his compliment. “Thanks” she gives him a small smile as she shuffles the cards in front of her.

“Lets call it a night on the readings hm? Why don’t you go out and enjoy the festival?” Eliza looks at him “and leave you to run the shop by yourself when it’s like this?” Asra shrugs his shoulders “you know I don’t mind, besides you take care of the shop the most through out the year. So let me have tonight as a way to make up for the missed hours.” Eliza thinks for a moment “but still I feel bad leaving you while I go out to the festival. I’ll just go later when we close up shop for the speech” Asra frowns “but the best parts of the festival will be over by then” he looks to the side to where the back room is, then to her quickly. “I insist, go enjoy. Don’t worry about me” living with Asra for years has made Eliza know every facial expression he has and the one he is trying to hide right now tells her he knows something. She raises an eyebrow at him “are you sure? I-“ he cuts her off waving one hand “yup I’m sure! Go right ahead.” He turns around to leave “Before you go however check the back door there’s a package out there for you” before she can protest any further Asra leaves a confused Eliza behind, his voice rings out through the shop as he announces that there will be no more readings for tonight.

After Asra’s adamant requests for her to go she had no choice but to or she felt that he would literally push her out the door. Grabbing her bag she bounded down the steps waving good bye to Asra who was at the counter, he looks at her and smiles. She opens the back door and the enjoyable warmth of the night greets her, sounds of the festival already reaching her ears, although she is happy to go see it Eliza cant help but feel sad, like something is missing. Going alone isn’t the same as having someone else there to enjoy the festivities with.

Eliza looks down and to the sides of the door steps trying to find the package Asra mentioned but finds nothing. Giving up, she turns to go back inside but stops when she hears something rustle amongst the shrubs at the edge of the forest. Eliza takes a step back cautiously, but then suddenly a huge smile breaks across her face when she sees a large green eyed man come from the trees.

When his eyes land on hers he gives a small smile “hello Eliza.” And just like that all feelings of tiredness and loneliness that were inside her vanished as she runs towards Muriel giving him a hug around his waist. “Muriel!” The big man Stiffens at her sudden reaction but just as quickly relaxes. he takes a step back steading himself from her crashing into him, he lets out a small “oof” and chuckles at her small frame hugging is large one.

“What are you doing here?” Eliza asks stepping back a little to look up at him but still holding him. He’s wearing his hair half up with a green ribbon, his usual cloak and his green scarf she got for him. He places a hand on her head moving it down, she leans Into his touch. “Today is the summer festival right?” Eliza eyes widen “yeah it is!” She sees Muriel Avert his eyes “I thought it was something you would like to go to...and” his cheeks grow slightly pink “I want to go see it with you” he looks back at her seeing her face practically glowing from happiness making his ears go red “that is...if you want to go with me...”

Eliza’s stomach fills with butterflies at Muriel asking her to go with him. she had been so busy with organizing the shop for this day that she had forgotten to tell him about it. Usually Eliza and Asra go to the Closing speech only, staying at the shop the whole night, that’s why it was weird for him to ask her to go out and enjoy the night but know she obviously knows why. Eliza giggles she grabs his hand that was on her head and kisses his knuckle before she places her hand into his.

“I would love to go with you, thank you for asking me” Muriel sticks his bottom lip out and mumbles “who else would I have asked?” Eliza hums and bumps into his side teasingly “I dunno maybe Asra?” He frowns shaking his head “I want to go with you” he states plainly making Eliza laugh “well then, let’s get going!” She tugs at his arm, before looking back to the doorway to see Faust sitting on top of Nell seeing them off “have fun!” The both say and Eliza smiles.

they round the shop to get to the street but before they do, under a string of colorful lights that are hanged above them, connecting from the shop to other next door, Muriel stops. Eliza looks up at him “something wrong?” She asks moving in front of him to see his face, slightly worrying that he had changed his mind.

his eyes are lowered but he’s blushing. “No. I made you something” he lets go of her hand and reaches inside his cloak, his hand comes out holding a flower crown made with different forest flowers all around. their natural colors vibrant. On one side there is a piece of green tulle tied onto it. “I remembered that wearing one is common at the festival... so I made you one” Eliza reaches out and delicately holds it in her hands, admiring it. “Muriel... I.. this is Beautiful thank you!” She goes on her toes and kisses his cheek when she goes back down she holds the shimmery green tulle “I love it! Where did you get this fabric?” Muriel has a small smile on his face happy that she loves it so much. “A few days ago at the market. Traded some protective charms for it”

Eliza’s heart swells ”Muriel.” He shrugs “it was okay” her cheeks hurt from smiling so much and their night only had just begun. She puts the crown on her head and does a spin “sooo how do I look?” She asks Muriel eyes widen and he reddens even more. She looks at him tilting her head slightly smiling at him. he averts his eyes “pretty.” He says and Eliza’s face warms as her whole body flutters at his compliment. Muriel looks to her taking her in again. He grabs her hand in his and presses his lips to her cheek. “Very pretty” he says trying to hide his face as he leads a flustered Eliza down the street.

They walk towards the city’s market place where the main attractions were. However music played through out all of Vesuvia, kids ran around them laughing one little girl pointed out Eliza’s crown calling it pretty making Muriel blush when Eliza told the little girl he had made it for her. Conversations amongst friends and new acquaintances filled around them as they made there way through.

When they neared the center the sound of music increased and the aroma of spices, desserts and cooking meats passed underneath their noses as vendors called out trying to get customers to try their new specials. Eliza’s mouth began to water at all the food in front of her, she looked at Muriel and found him staring at a meat stand where they were cooking smoked eel, his favorite. Of course Muriel wouldn’t voice that he wanted some. “Are you hungry?” She asks, Muriel’s eyes leave the stand to focus on her “um. Are you?” Eliza smiles “with all this food? How can I not ?” He laughs softly “then let’s go eat.” she leads him to the meat stand “couldn’t have said it better myself!”

She gets Muriel his eel skewers and she gets her own beef ones. Muriel bites Into his food and his mouth waters with the flavor, he takes small bites enjoying it fully. He looks to Eliza who’s close to finishing her first. He chuckles softly. It might be weird but Muriel likes watching her eat, in fact he likes watching her do anything because that means she is there with him. But when she eats something good she closes her eyes and hums, moving her body side to side clearly enjoying her food.

Before he meet her before she showed him at the masquerade that food can be something that holds flavor and it can be enjoyed and appreciated. He had looked at food as something his body needed to survive to last another day it didn’t matter if it tasted good or not. But now with Eliza he enjoyed eating, he still became amazed at how many different combinations there are, he liked tasting different flavors. And that they did, after finishing their skewers they went onto different stands tasting a variety of dishes.

* * *

After participating in some games like archery and cards Muriel and Eliza With their desserts in hand found a table, near the dance square . They ate their desserts together while watching the festivities go on in full swing around them.

People eating near stands, others bargaining for the best price at shops and kids running around with sticks that sparkle. Eliza feeds some of her dessert to Muriel which he excepts but quickly lets out a low grumble “too sweet” he states making Eliza laugh knowing he wouldn’t really like it. “You really like sweet stuff” she hums as she takes another bite of her pastry “mmhmm pure sweet goodness is the best” Eliza swallows. Muriel picks up his own pastry out for her to take a bite, Eliza takes a small one and she scrunches her face “and you really like sour stuff” she swallows but taking another bite of her own to cover the taste.

Muriel let’s out a chuckle “sour goodness is the best” he repeats her words. Eliza grins feeling playful, from the sugar in her. “sweet” she challenges, he pouts “sour” she leans towards him “sweet” Eliza repeats before she kisses him on the lips. She feels the tangy sourness on his lips and he feels the sugary powder on hers and he can’t help but to like the taste of the Flavor more this way. She pulls away from him seeing the tint of pink on his cheeks that matches her own, his eyes are lidded looking down at her lips like he wants more, “sweet” he whispers, making Eliza smirk “I win” his eyes come to focus looking at her. He averts his eyes and frowns “you cheated” the brown haired girl laughs taking in his adorable pout. She loops her arm through his “awww” she leans into him resting her chin on his shoulder “alright both flavors are good in their own way, how about that?” She looks up at muriel, eyes looking out away from her, but she can see a smile “hm, agreed” he mumbles. Eliza grins and kisses his shoulder before resting her head on it.

They stay in this position for a few minutes until Eliza hears the first chord of a new song and knows exactly what is going to happen next. The band starts playing a slow beat letting people who want to join the dance come take a place in the middle of the dance square.

Eliza heads pokes up seeing men, women and children being lead to the center by the music. Then little by little the tempo picks up, Eliza’s heart quickens excited to see the dance that is was going to take place. She didn’t know that she was sitting all the way up leaning towards the music until she heard Muriel. “You should go dance” she jumps a little not expecting him to say that “w-what? Oh. No. I’m fine, I like watching” she says but she feels her body telling her to go join the forming crowd. “And you like to dance too. Go ahead.” She turns back to him looking at his smile on his face.

She would ask him to come with but she knows that group dances arnt his thing. “A-are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone” Muriel gives her hand a squeeze “Don’t worry about me.” She sees him press his lips into a line and shifts his gaze down “I want you to enjoy yourself too, not just be stuck with me” Eliza shifts back in her seat. “I am enjoying myself” she smiles at him “ I like being stuck with you” Muriel lets out a huff and gives her a playful glare. Making Eliza laugh “alright alright I’ll go just for you okay?” She stands up and kisses his cheek before going, Leaving behind a happy blushing Muriel.

Out of all the many things he liked seeing her do, dancing was one of his favorites. He would catch her humming and dancing around the hut and sometimes she would bring a music box so they both could dance together. He smiles at the memory as he watches her leave to join the crowd, the music picking up starting the dance. He wishes he could join her, he really did. he would love to be able to do everything with her, experience everything that she wanted to do. but he wasn’t there yet, maybe one day he will get there. but he knows for certain that with her light guiding him and being patient with him he knows he could do it.

But for tonight Muriel spots her in the crowd two lines had formed and both moved side to side hopping to the beat. then both lines go towards each other and when they meet, one person holds out their hand and spins the other around then they continue on through changing spots, once they get to the other side they clap and do the whole steps again just changing the person who spins in the middle. The tempo quickens gradually and becomes a dance of who can last to the end of the song. He sees her laugh as she feels the shift in rhythm trying to not trip and a determined look on her face to last the whole song. Occasionally she looks over at him and smiles making his body warm up, even when she’s enjoying herself she looks after him. He loved seeing the way her face lights up, and her skirt flowing around her. she always danced like no one was watching, just enjoying the moment.

Eliza takes in a big breath and laughs with the rest of the participants that lasted till the end of the song alongside her. hugs were given out and cheers were heard from the others that had stepped out. She catches her breath and looks at Muriel still sitting at the table looking at her with a wide smile, her heart flutters at knowing that he saw her dance.

She puts her hands to her cheeks knowing how red she must look and can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed but that feeling dosnt last long as another song starts and she’s pulled into another group dance, this one at a medium tempo. Two small circles are created as they skip to the beat going right all around then left, then they all go to the middle clapping twice before going back out again. She feels the music course through her and gets lost in it loving the feeling. The tone of the violin making her movements flow and the beats of the drums making her steps firm against the ground. By the end of the song they had made a big circle trading partners.

Eliza compliments the little girl she ended up with and goes to the barrel of water that they put out for the dancers at the corner of the raised stage, serving herself. When she throws away the cup a song danced usually by couples starts to play. She looks to the square, men are taking their partners to dance, she even spots some fathers taking their young daughters making her smile. Eliza makes her way around the crowd towards Muriel whose on the other side, but suddenly feels a sweaty hand clamp over her wrist making her turn around to face the person who’s grabbing her.

It was a man not much older than her but by his grin and the way he wavered a bit she knew that he was down a few salty bitters. “What is a pretty girl like yourself doing alone during this dance?” The man slurs Eliza tries not to scoff at him as she moves her arm away but he tightness his grip “that’s none of your concern, now please let me go” she steps back but he quickly wraps an arm around her waist pulling her towards him and spinning them around “oh come on sweetheart, a cute thing like you shouldn’t be alone tonight” he grins looking her up and down. Eliza tries to step away pushing at his shoulder but he dosnt budge “you’re mistaken I’m not alone. Let me go” the mans eyebrows shoot up “oh?” He looks around behind her searching, his gaze going back to hers “I don’t see them, maybe they left you for another, what a shame.” The man snickers leaning in closer.

“He didn’t.” A deep serious voice is heard. Eliza’s head looks up to see Muriel towering behind the man with a threatening glare. The man rolls his eyes “then you shouldn’t have left her, sorry finders keepers” the man turns his head still having a grin on his face but it quickly falls as his eyes meet Muriel’s chest, his eyes climb, craning his neck up until he is looking at Muriel death glare. She could hear the man gulp, “she told you she wasn’t alone didn’t she?”

The man just nodes still looking at Muriel with shock and fear “then let her go.” The mans eyes go wide and he quickly lets go of Eliza, hands up in surrender stammering “S-So sorry. T-this was just a m-misunderstanding! YES! A misunderstanding that’s all Y-You know how it is with a few salty bitters right?” He laughs nervously as he gulps again. Muriel’s glare stays unmoving he steps forward and the man yelps stepping back “leave.” Muriel almost growls out.

The man frantically steps back almost tripping “right! Leaving now, right now” and with that he scrambles away from them. Eliza looks at the direction the man left relived that he was finally gone. “Are you alright?” She hears Muriel’s soft voice in front of her ask, making her look up at him, his face expressing worry, his gaze quickly softening as he takes her in his hands grabbing her wrist the man had held looking for any marks, then bringing his hands to cup her face.

“Did he hurt you?” His gaze starting to harden but she quickly places her own hands on his giving him a smile “I’m fine. he didn’t hurt me” Muriel sighs, relief washing over him. he presses his lips to her forehead “good” she sees his face fall lightly “I’m sorry. I wasn’t with you, if I was this wouldn’t have ha-.” Eliza cuts him off by placing a finger to his lips “I won’t let you say those words” she takes his hands away from her face and holds them “you’re here with me now aren't you?” She smiles up at him “you’re always with me Muriel, always” his green eyes soften, gratefulness filling inside them.

“Come on let’s go sit down” she says starting to walk towards their table but Muriel doesn't budge. She looks back at him in question, “you like this song.” He states Eliza looks around to the couples dancing. “Yeah, it’s nice” she smiles fondly and starts walking again. “I don’t want the song to be ruined for you” he mumbles. Eliza turns towards him surprised, her body warming up at his words.

“what do you mean? The song isn’t ruined” Muriel pauses for a second and looks around, they were standing on the the outside of the dance square, most of the people still in the center. Eliza is about to ask him what is wrong when he pulls away his hand from hers, she looks down confused at this action. Eliza hears him take in a deep breath her eyes moving back to his seeing a dust of pink on his cheeks also making an appearance going down his neck.

He straightens up and puts a hand out towards Eliza and as if he practiced countless times before “can I have this dance?” Eliza’s mind stops working for a second as she looks up at the man before her who just asked her to dance so she would have happy memories, to the man that would only dance with her inside of his own hut, to the man who would do anything to make her smile.

Eliza’s whole body feels weightless as she takes his rough hand, “you can” she states. Muriel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as if he wasn’t expecting her to say yes to him making Eliza let out a small laugh. He becomes red, his hands gently find their places on her body, he bites his lip and looks down to their feet nervous to start leading. Eliza can’t stop her heart from swelling at how adorable he looks, she hears the music and counts for him like she usually does when they dance together.

“And a one, two. three. And a one.” She feels Muriel step forward and she follows him, she still counts until she knows he feels the music and lets him lead her. She is smiling up at him encouraging him, he looks down at her with a embarrassed smile. Eliza rests her head on his chest and lets the gentle music flow through them.

In that moment Muriel would do anything to make time stop. The feeling of the music mixed with her in his arms giving him full trust to lead her made his whole body warm. She had said that he was always with her but she was just the same, she was always with him.

she was in his every thought, in every word he said, the feeling of her on his skin was constant, she was what made his heart beat even so frantically like it was now. Her entire self had already made an impact inside him that even if he tried to forget her something would always appear to make him remember. he was and forever will be surrounded by her.

For an instant the world around them faded away, they weren’t dancing at the festival anymore they just were, they were just there in that moment in each other’s presence. It wasn’t until the music stopped that pulled both lovers back to reality. Muriel still kept Eliza close as they both looked onto the stage. A person goes on to the side, announcing “presenting the countess Nadia giving the closing speech!” A cheer breaks out as Nadia climbs taking center stage.

Eliza claps along with the others, smiling up at her friend. Nadia inclines her head to the announcer in thanks and looks out to the crowd “thank you everyone, this years summer festival was a successful one because of all of you and Your hard work. As the people of Vesuvia know and those who have traveled far to come here, This festival is meant to say farewell to the summer season. Farewell to long days and short nights, to hot mornings which we had a few of, didn’t we?” The crowd laughs and murmurs in agreement remembering the heat wave that passed.

“But with that we also say farewell to cold desserts, to time at the beach in the warm sand and time to visit friends and family. But although we say farewell to all of these things and many more that come with summer we welcome the new experiences that come our way. Farewells are not always meant to be wrapped in a sense of sadness, some farewells are just endings to certain parts of our lives. where one thing ends something new always begins, I look forward to sharing those new experiences with you all. So for this festival, for this summer let’s close it with a happy ending shall we?” The crowd cheers once again and those cheers turn to gasps and aws as various colors light up the night sky.

Muriel looks up to the sky taking in the sight of the fireworks , hearing the music start up again. He hears Eliza’s aw’s at the blasts of light over the buildings, she looks up at him, a content expression on her face. He takes her hand and spins her in front of him taking her all in, Eliza laughs and when she stops she rests her hands on his chest. Muriel searches her face, eyes roaming the face he has come to memorize. The colors above bloom across her features highlighting the pink on her cheeks and making her freckles shine like the constellations that were above them.

She was breathtakingly beautiful to him in every way and in that moment he knew he never wanted to be parted from her ever again, he couldn’t see a life without her. All the endings he would have in his life he wanted to experience them with her at his side.

Muriel leans his forehead against her own, “here’s to happy endings, Eliza” he says Her eyes flicker with emotion “to happy endings” she repeats and Before he can let his mind stop him Muriel picks her up in his arms and spins them both a laugh coming out of him, he looks up to see her laughing to. She looks down onto him and brings her hands to cup his cheeks. They both gaze into each other’s eyes sharing emotions that they only understand. The two lovers both tilt their heads towards each other and when their lips met it feels like a blast of colorful light shines against the night sky.

#thearcanamuriel #muriel #muriel the arcana #muriel the mountain man #muriel x mc #muriel x oc #muriel x apprentice #fluff #murielfluff #the arcana game #thearcanastory #thearcanaoneshot #julian devorak #the arcana asra #the arcana nadia #nadia #portia #lucio #murielnsfw

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rosethornewrites · 4 years ago

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Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 3

Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí

Additional Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals

Summary: Lan Wangji and Wei Ying go to Caiyi, but have an unexpected encounter.

Notes: See end

Parts 1 & 2

Chapter 1 | 2

AO3 link

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Wangji soaked in Wei Ying’s good cheer, how he flitted around the mountain path on the way to Caiyi to examine anything that caught his eye. He had to discourage him from capturing another rabbit for the herd in Cloud Recesses; after all, they would have to go back if he was successful, and they had not yet reached their destination.

“On the way home, then,” Wei Ying said, his grin as wide as those during his days as a student, and Wangji’s heart clenched in joy to see it.

Caiyi was bustling, the fishermen hawking the morning catch, and Wei Ying held back a little at the chaos of it, staying closer to Wangji, reminding him that he was still fragile, still easily overwhelmed. This was the first trip to town since he had truly started to heal, after all.

Wangji had a mental map of the town and the places he wished to take him, purchases he wished to make; a gaun, scented oil for his hair, spicy foods—whatever Wei Ying wanted, he would have—and the personal additions to the betrothal gifts he would present to the Jiang siblings.

As hesitant as he seemed to enter the crowd, Wei Ying was also fascinated by the fish hawking, curious about the tubs of live catch. He stopped to watch a turtle for a bit, fascinated by the markings on the top of its neck that resembled eyes. It was a colorful specimen, with a dark brown shell and distinctive markings.

“Do you want it?” Wangji asked softly.

Wei Ying smiled at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Where would I put it? The Cold Spring? Your uncle would kick me out.”

Wangji frowned, troubled that Wei Ying still thought, even jokingly, he would be discarded so easily, that his place was so tenuous. He had to remind himself that shufu and xiongzhang would clarify that today, that he would soon realize the Cloud Recesses was his home.

“There is a small pond outside the jingshi,” he offered.

“‘Pets are forbidden,’ Lan Zhan. You don’t need more creatures to take care of.”

He wondered if they were speaking of the turtle anymore.

“Not a pet,” Wangji clarified. “It is a wild thing, and could live to old age there, protected.”

As he hoped Wei Ying himself would in the jingshi with him—not as a caged creature, but as his beloved, loved as he deserved.

Wei Ying was quiet for a moment, watching the turtle, but finally nodded.

“Let’s rescue it, then,” he murmured, his voice rough. “So it won’t end up someone’s dinner tonight.”

Turtles, after all, were symbols of longevity, power, and tenacity. In some ways, they represented what Wei Ying had endured and survived. He had endured so much, had defeated the water he had been left in to die. Turtles were seen as powerful bringers of luck and serenity, both things Wei Ying could use. Perhaps this encounter, their purchase of it, was auspicious.

He stayed close as Wangji purchased it and smiled more sincerely when he handed him a covered basket with the turtle secured inside.

“We will release it in the pond when we return home,” he told him softly, mentally adding the bookseller to his list of places to go so they could find a book on turtles.

They wandered toward the market, Wei Ying moving carefully so as not to jostle the turtle. The bookseller was first, and they perused the shelves together, quickly finding a suitable book.

Wangji noticed Wei Ying’s eyes lingering on a book of poetry and pulled it from the shelf, curious. It was a collection of the poems of Ruan Ji and Ji Kang, two notable sages in a time of turbulent wars, and rumored lovers. He could see the blush on Wei Ying’s face, and felt his own ears heat as he recalled that one of the two had written homoerotic poetry; he wondered if this volume contained them.

He bought both books, slipping them in his qiankun pouch. They could read them together.

At the stall with scented oils for hair, Wei Ying seemed lost at the number of options, and looked to Wangji for help.

“You can try smaller amounts of different ones until you find one you like,” Wangji said softly, “but this might fit you.”

He had the vendor mix a small sample of orange and cinnamon for Wei Ying to smell and was pleased to see the scents seemed to relax him. Wangji was happy to purchase it.

Wei Ying, he knew, often let his hair go, not taking care of it. He would take charge of it personally, he decided, perhaps enlisting Jiang Yanli’s help while they were courting, when it would be a bit inappropriate for him to do so.

Wangji noticed a stall of colorful candies and stopped to buy Wei Ying tanghulu. This seller, he knew, removed the hawthorn seeds and replaced them with red bean paste before glazing them with sugar.

He took a bite when Wei Ying offered, enjoying the sweet and tart mixtures, the crunch followed by the meatiness of the hawthorn and the soft cream of the bean paste. Wei Ying happily munched on the rest on the way to the next stall.

Before they reach it, Wei Ying froze, the mostly-eaten tanghulu falling from his fingers to the ground. Wangji followed his gaze and found Jin Zixuan at a nearby stall, along with Madam Jin—who, he recalled, was the sworn sister of Madam Yu.

Wangji could hear Wei Ying’s breath, how it had started to speed up, and recognized he was in the beginning of a panic attack. He turned to face him, moving Wei Ying so he could still see her in his peripheral vision—he already knew she was there, and could panic worse if he couldn’t see her, but he tried to encourage him to focus on him.

“I am here,” Wangji told him. “You are not alone.”

Wei Ying managed a nod, taking deep breaths and pressing one thumb to the opposite palm, something the mind healers had taught him to help him find calm.

Jin Zixuan approached, Madam Jin hanging back. He bowed and Wangji bowed back, noting that Wei Ying did the same, shaking slightly.

“Lan-er-gongzi, Wei-gongzi, we intended to visit Cloud Recesses. I didn’t realize you would be in Caiyi.”

He sounded apologetic, and Wangji knew he could see Wei Ying struggling.

“Wei-gongzi, my mother has come to speak with you.”

A panicked noise, so soft Wangji was sure only he heard it, escaped Wei Ying, his breath stuttering again. His knuckles were white, his hand clenched around the basket handle.

Madam Jin was looking at Wei Ying with an expression that bordered on pity, he realized.

“I apologize for your ill treatment at the hands of my former sworn sister, Wei Wuxian,” she said bluntly, bowing low to him. “And for the discomfort my presence has brought you.”

Confusion washed over Wei Ying’s face at her words, but he also seemed to focus, coming out of his panic.

“Former?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Madam Jin nodded.

“I could not continue being her sworn sister after what she did to you, her own ward. It was inexcusable.”

Wei Ying looked lost, almost dizzy, and Wangji placed a hand on his upper arm in case he fell.

“Over something as small as talismans to change the color of the tea,” Jin Zixuan muttered.

Wangji felt Wei Ying tremble, the memory tied up in his near-death. He had stuck talismans to the undersides of each sect leader’s teapot, and the tea had come out in the sect’s main color—Jiang Fengmian’s, violet; Nie Mingjue’s, deep green; xiongzhang’s, a pale blue; Wen Ruohan’s, crimson; Jin Guangshan’s, golden. Even minor sect leaders’ teapots had transformed the color of their tea.

The talismans had changed nothing else about the tea, neither flavor nor quality, and had been well-received by the sect leaders when Wei Ying had explained the tea was safe.

“Just an extra treat for the discussion conference,” he had said with a respectful bow and a cheeky smile.

Madam Yu had ordered him out, stalking after him, and it had been the last time anyone had seen Wei Ying until Jiang Yanli found him so close to death.

“I revealed lax security, she said,” Wei Ying murmured, his voice hollow.

He was shaking more obviously now, and Wangji moved closer as he swayed. They had never spoken of the incident, and he had no idea how Wei Ying might react.

“That’s ridiculous!” Jin Zixuan muttered, the anger in his voice surprising. “Of course you had access as head disciple.”

His comment seemed to jolt Wei Ying out of what Wangji had feared might be the beginning of a fugue, and he started at the Jin heir blankly, like he hadn’t expected a defense from him.

Wangji approved of his anger, befitting one who would be Wei Ying’s brother in law. Madam Yu’s actions had clearly led to a change in Jin Zixuan for the better. He could remember, vaguely, the young man trying to comfort Jiang Yanli as she sobbed, telling her that her brother was strong, he would be okay. Wangji had been far more focused on Wei Ying, leaving him only to help the Jiang siblings pack his belongings and expedite their departure, and only in the care of xiongzhang.

“We are bringing up bad memories,” Madam Jin realized, her voice regretful. “I actually wish to commission you for your talisman work, Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Ying swallowed hard, clearly making an effort to stay present mentally.

“What kind of talisman, Jin-furen?”

She offered him a gentle smile.

“I’d prefer not to discuss it in the street. Let me treat you to lunch, and we can get a private room and chat. With Lan Wangji and my son present, of course.”

Wangji realized she was trying to assure Wei Ying she did not wish him ill, would not seek to harm him, and perhaps was letting him know as well.

Wei Ying gave a jerky nod, glancing at him as though for reassurance. He decided to lead the way to the restaurant he had intended to take him to for lunch, a place known for spicy fare but with dishes that suited his own palate. It happened to have private dining rooms, which Wangji had intended for them anyway, so Wei Ying would have a break from people.

The move put the Jins behind them, he realized when Wei Ying clung to his arm, but the walk was blessedly short. Madam Jin was kind enough to lead the way up the stairs, clearly recognizing Wei Ying’s distress. He was thankful that she also allowed Wei Ying to decide where in the smaller room to sit, deferring to him in a way that most people of her station would not.

Though her kindness was not unselfish—she did, after all, want something—he appreciated it nonetheless. He led Wei Ying to a seat around the table, where he could see the door, a window nearby to facilitate escape if needed, both things that might make him feel more secure.

Wangji worried Wei Ying might eat little, a behavior that manifested when he was stressed, but he could do nothing to alleviate that.

“May we speak before we eat?” Madam Jin asked after settling across from them with her son. “If you decide against taking the commission, I will still purchase lunch. It is the least I can do given your willingness to speak with me.”

Wei Ying nodded again, grasping Wangji’s hand under the table. Wangji squeezed gently, trying to reassure him.

“As you may be aware, my husband has… dallied,” she began.

Jin Zixuan’s face turned a bit sour at this, and Wangji was reminded of Wei Ying’s question to him when he asked for permission to court Jiang Yanli.

“Given… recent events, I have decided it would be prudent to find the children resulting from his indiscretions.”

Wei Ying’s gaze sharpened a bit.

“For what purpose?” he asked softly.

Wangji squeezed his hand again, knowing his thoughts; Wei Ying would not wish to create anything that could result in deaths.

Madam Jin smiled, as though the question pleased her.

“To protect them. I will not legitimize them, but I want them and their mothers, who were perhaps lied to or coerced, or whose freedom needs to be bought from brothels, to be safe and cared for. The children should have the opportunity to learn to cultivate and have a relationship with my son as their half-brother, along with their other half-siblings.”

She sighed softly.

“All involved are innocents, and I could stay bitter as I once was and wish them ill, but after… what was done to you, I don’t wish to be that person. The world could mistake that behavior as acceptable, as there have been few consequences. I want to offer an alternative.”

Wei Ying seemed to need to take several breaths, his hand tightening on Wangji’s for a moment, before he could nod. Wangji could see a suspicious sheen to his eyes, and realized Wei Ying was overcome by Madam Jin’s desire to make right somehow, to force something positive to result from what was done to him.

“One to find, and one to also test those who step forth with claims?” Wei Ying asked after he had calmed.

Madam Jin let out a breath, looking relieved, almost as though she had been concerned Wei Ying would not be up to the task, perhaps still too traumatized.

Not long ago, he would have been, Wangji had to admit. But he was getting better, and he had never stopped inventing new talismans.

“Yes, that would also be useful,” she said. “Thank you.”

“There would likely be a limit on distance,” Wei Ying told her. “But I’d have to experiment with options and prototypes.”

Madam Jin set a large bag of gold in front of him, and Wei Ying’s eyes widened.

“This is a down payment. I understand it may take time, and there is no rush. I will reimburse you for any materials needed, if that becomes an issue.”

Wei Ying looked up at her, frowning slightly.

“I will need your husband’s blood,” he said. “Unless you want me to focus on the sibling aspect, and then I could use Jin Zixuan’s.”

Wangji realized this was Wei Ying’s way of asking if this was being done secretly, without Sect Leader Jin’s knowledge.

Madam Jin actually laughed softly.

“Oh, you are bright,” she said, her voice full of delighted praise. “My husband is still claiming innocence, and is not willing to take part in this project. My son has kindly offered to help instead.”

Wangji tried not to be concerned about the implications that this could be against Sect Leader Jin’s wishes. Wei Ying was under the protection of Gusu Lan now, and he would defend him personally if need be.

Jin Zixuan pulled out a pouch and slid it gently across the table.

“Several vials of my blood. I can provide more if needed.”

Wei Ying looked momentarily shocked at the implied level of trust—the amount of blood needed to harm someone via a curse or hex was miniscule, after all—and attempted a smile.

“I’ll try not to waste any.”

Jin Zixuan only nodded, and Wangji took the bag to slip into his qiankun pouch. Wei Ying handed him the pouch of money without looking at him, the exchange made less simple by the fact that Wei Ying didn’t let go of his hand under the table. Though his grip wasn’t tight, Wangji refused to break it, refused to let go when he needed him.

Madam Jin slid the door open to let the servers know they were ready for tea.

Wei Ying’s gaze had gone a bit glassy, though his eyes were moving as he thought, perhaps distracted by ideas for the talisman. Wangji resolved to ensure Wei Ying ordered and ate plenty, knowing he might need prompting. He knew they would return to Cloud Recesses following this, without a replacement for Wei Ying’s broken guan, and without additional gifts for the Jiang siblings. Wei Ying would need time to rest before meeting with shufu and xiongzhang, particularly after the strain he had just endured.

They would release the turtle in front of the jingshi together, and Wangji would play the guqin for him while he rested. Then, following the meeting, wherein Wei Ying’s status would be clarified, Wangji would seek permission from his siblings to court him.

He ran his thumb across the back of Wei Ying’s hand, and was relieved when the act was returned, when the glassiness left his eyes and he looked at him with a tired-looking smile.

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

I didn’t really expect the turtle thing, but it happened kind of organically as I was bringing Caiyi to life. Wei Ying is going to name it Tang 汤, meaning ‘soup,’ because of course he is. This particular turtle is a species native to mountainous regions of southern China, the four-eyed turtle. And now I need to do more research on turtles because of course I do.

In addition to Wei Ying’s recovery, this fic is also in part about the cultivation world’s reaction to what Yu Ziyuan did, in that there are some consequences. Hence Madam Jin dissolving their sworn sisterhood and commissioning Wei Ying. Her decision to take in and ensure Jin Guangshan’s bastards and mistresses are cared for is partially out of spite for what her former sworn sister did, but is also the result of some soul-searching on her part. This is not Madam Jin assuming that Wei Ying is Jiang Fengmian’s secret bastard son, btw.

As I’ve noted in other MDZS fics I’m writing, I like to explore how a point of change can cascade to change other things, so I am back on my bullshit. Also, I think this makes the third fic where I’ve referenced Ruan Ji and Ji Kang. I just bought a book of their translated poetry that’s supposed to be delivered next week.

#my fanfiction #the untamed #untamed fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #untamed fanfic #mdzs #mdzs fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #chen qing ling #CQL #cql fanfic #cql fanfiction #wei ying #wei wuxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #jin zixuan #madam jin

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woossexyponytail · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2 The calm crew.

Ateez x reader

Ateez pirate au.

∴━━━✿━━━∴

I stood at the side of the ship looking out towards the endless sea, behind me Hongjoong was running around sailing the ship by himself. Turning around I watched him as he kept looking at his compass every few seconds.

"If you have a question just ask, there are no secrets on this ship, well in the crew more like, but speak your mind" Hongjoong said without even looking over at me.

"Why are you separated from your crew?, Where is your crew?, Where is your ship?, Why were you in England in the first place?" I asked now following him as we both rushed around the ship.

Hongjoong sighed stopping abruptly making me crash in to him, he spun quickly facing me.

"You ask to many questions, love" he said pointing a finger at me, turning back around to carry on what he was doing.

"You did say to ask, did you not?" I said staying where I was while I followed him with my eyes. Crossing my arms I taped my foot impatiently waiting for him to answer.

"My ship along with three of my crew members are ported in France, looking for something, the other four are in spain, we dropped them off first" he told me, as he walked back to the wheel, I looked down at my feet thinking.

"Why?" I looked over at the wheel seeing he wasn't there, searching he was sorting out one of the sails, looking down at me I could see a small smirk on his face.

Jumping down he landed right infront of me, he was searching in my eyes for something I could feel my heart beating faster, never before have I been this close to a male.

The moment I realised what I was thinking Hongjoong walked away from me, letting out a breath I did not know I was holding, I tried evening out my breaths, then watched him again.

"We are looking for something" he told me I nodded for him to continue but he didn't, instead he went back on to focus on the ship, sailing his main priority once again. Sighing I walked over to the side of the ship looking out to the horizon.

✥-----------------------†----------------------✥

After a few hours Hongjoong has shown me the basics of manding a ship, I'm not great but it's better then have us capsize or run into port.

"Why did they call you pirate king?" I asked after being in silence for awhile, Hongjoong looked over at me his face plank from emotion.

"Let's just say I'm notorious in these waters love" he told me a smirk spreading on his face. I nodded watching him as he walked to the wheel steering the ship, walking up the stairs standing next to him watching the water.

"How long until we get to France right?" I asked looking back at him, Hongjoong turned around to me, then looked up at the sky.

"About a couple hours until we port in France" he said, I nodded in understanding, the rest of the trip went in silence.

"So are you going to tell me why your crew are spread across France and Spain?" I asked Hongjoong he looked over at me sighing.

"Fine you'll find out eventually anyway, It's to do with that map of yours" he said pointing to where I was hiding the map.

"Utopia? Why go through so much trouble?" I ask my brows knitting together, Hongjoong laughed at me.

"My crew and I have been searching for Utopia for a few years now. We can not just sail there on a ship, it's difficult" He told me I nodded waiting for him to continue.

"We found out that you can't read the map, you need three objects then the island will be revealed" he said looking over at the ocean.

"What objects?" I asked he laughed again "You'll see soon" he said, as he walked off again as I was left on my own to think over what he said.

✥----------------------†-----------------------✥

We finally ported in France, Hongjoong tied the ship to the port as we started walking off.

"Hold up there, you!" We heard someone yell turning around we noticed a man running up to us with a book in hand.

"It's a shilling to tie up your ship to the dock." He told us panting from the short run he just did, "I also need to know your name." He explained looking between the both of us, I looked over at Hongjoong.

"What do you say to no shillings, but you can keep this marvellous ship and we forget the name?" Hongjoong said putting his hand on the guys shoulder.

The man looked at the ship then back to Hongjoong, then to me, I raised my eyebrows wondering if he would take the trade.

"Welcome to Concarneau, Mr. Smith." The man said smiling at us, Hongjoong bowed as he walked off me following behind him.

"But isn't he going to realise that the ship was stolen?" I asked looking over at Hongjoong as he was looking at all of the other ships at the dock.

"Yes but by the time he finds out we will hopefully be long gone by then" he said stopping as a giant East Indiamen ship, it generally measuring between 1100 and 1400 tons, it was a very big ship.

"Ah my precious treasure, Aurora" Hongjoong said smiling happily at the large ship.

"Precious treasure?" I asked looking over at him, turning around he smiled brightly at me, "Not all treasure is silver and gold love" he said walking up to the ship.

We walked on to the deck, looking around the ship was sparkling with cleanliness, a man on his hands and knees was scrubbing the deck.

"Who brings their muddy boots over my clean ship, I'll cut out your- oh Captain your here" the man said standing up his glear turned in to a soft smile as the two quickly hugged.

"And who is your friend?" The man asked looking over at me, Hongjoong walked the man towards me.

"This is Yn, Yn this is my quarter master Seonghwa" he told me I smiled politely at the tall man, who looked very intimidating.

"Pleasures to meet you" he said grabbing my hand and kissing my knuckle, I smiled shyly at the man.

"Right, now Where's Yunho? I'm starving" Hongjoong said walking around his ship.

"Oh he's at the market with Yeosang getting some food for tonight" Seonghwa explained going back to cleaning the floor.

"Do we have any food left on the ship?" Hongjoong asked Seonghwa, he looked up from the floor thinking, "I do believe that Jongho speared a few apples" he said, Hongjoong nodded walking off.

Walking down blow deck to the hold with Hongjoong he explained that Jongho the youngest out of the crew, likes to break apples in half and they end up getting rotten fast.

After finding some apples Hongjoong throws one to me, barely catching it, then I bit in to it. Hongjoong eat his own as the two of us walked back up, seeing two young men walking on to the ship arms full of food. One was very tall while the other short, but Hongjoong being the smallest.

"Seonghwa I got a great deal on- HEY Captain your here!" The tall man said the smaller one turned then started at me, the tall guy walked up to Hongjoong smiling brightly at him.

"Oh good day miss, I'm Yunho and he over there is Yeosang, you are?" He asked, I smiled at the very tall man infront of me, "Yn. would you like some help with that?" I asked looking at the food.

"That would be appreciated thank you" he smiled passing me some of the food as he lead the way to I'm guessing the kitchen. Yeosang following closely behind his arm also full with food.

He opened some double doors revealing a large table in the middle of the room, on one side of the wall was filled with bottles that looked like alcohol maybe. We placed the food on the table, Yunho thanked me for the help as I walked back up to the main deck seeing Hongjoong and Seonghwa talking.

"Yn I'll show you where you'll be sleeping" Hongjoong told me leading me to a door on the front main deck, opening the door revealing a huge room with about twenty hammocks.

"You don't mind sharing the room with Yunho, Yeosang and Seonghwa, I promise you that nothing will happen, they can be trusted" he told me, I thought about it for a momnet, the three seemed nice enough.

"Yes that's fine thank you" I told him smiling, Hongjoong nodded, "Could I look at that map?" He asked quickly I nodded passing him the map.

He walked to the captain's quarters, I followed him wondering what he was looking for on the map.

✥----------------------†-----------------------✥

Hongjoong explained that to get to Utopia we need to get a couple of special gemstones, one is here in fance, while another is in Spain, the last one in the middle of the ocean, but only one person knew where and they were in Tortuga.

"Tomorrow we'll look for the gemstone, the moment we have it we are heading out. Got it?" Hongjoon told the four of us, as we sat at the table eating dinner. Seonghwa, Yeosang and Yunho yelled "Aye Captain" then Hongjoong shooed us to the bunks.

"Are you excited about seeing Utopia?" Yunho asked me, I nodded trying to get in to the hammock, the three already in theirs. Yunho looked over smiling at me.

"Yn, welcome to the crew" he told me a sleepy smile on his face, I turned around looking over at him, smiling back I felt my cheeks warming at his sweet gesture.

"Get some sleep all of you, we've got a long day tomorrow" Seonghwa told us as we all went to sleep hopefully getting enough sleep for tomorrow.

✥----------------------†-----------------------✥

Back at the house Darren Mikaelson walked in to his house with the staff running around panicked, Darren stopped one of the maids asking what was happening.

"Oh sir it's horrible, lady Yn was arrested for going in to the book store but she is now gone, the guards think the pirate took her with him!" She told him talking fast still panicking.

"WHAT?!, where is Geonhak? I thought he was going to propose to my daughter today? How did this happen?" Darren asked starting to yell.

"Sir I am here, Yn said she needed a moment after I proposed to her, after that she never came back. I just found out that a pirate has taken her" Geonhak explained running up to him.

"We need to find her now" Darren said as he looked around making Geonhak follow him back to the ship. A guard came running up to Darren out of breath as he stopped the two.

"Sir the pirate that took your daughter, he goes by The Pirate King" the guard said, Darren and Geonhak looked at each other in shock and fear.

"The Pirate king? That's not good" Geonhak said as they both ran off to port wanting to leave immediately.

✥----------------------†-----------------------✥

I felt shacking on my shoulder, slowly opening my eyes I saw Yeosang looking down at me shacking me awake, A shy smile on his face as he stepped away.

"It's time for breakfast" Yeosang said as he turned around and walked out the doors. I sat up from the hammock and struggled to get out, walking down to the kitchen I saw that all four where sitting down.

"Good morning Yn how did you sleep?" Seonghwa asked as I sat down next to Yunho as he passed me a bowl of food, thanking him I looked over at Seonghwa, "well thank you, How are you all?" I asked as I started eating.

After we all finished breakfast Yunho quickly cleaned up the bowls with Seonghwa's help, both sitting back down as Hongjoong explained today's plan.

"The object of our attention is a Sapphire and I will be going with Seonghwa, hopefully we'll get it quick and will be on our way. You three stay here show Yn around" Hongjoong said as he stood up walking upstairs Seonghwa following closely behind.

✥----------------------†-----------------------✥

It had been a few minutes since Hongjoong and Seonghwa left the ship, I walked around on top of the deck feeling the warm sun on my skin, I looked up seeing Yeosang on the main mast pulling on some rope.

I climbed up getting to where he sat, Yeosang turned to me smiling, I asked if I could help which he nodded handing me some rop to tye up.

"How did you become a pirate? If you don't mind me asking" I asked looking over at him, Yeosang smiled over at me finishing up another rop.

"When I was a lad, my mother raised me by herself. After she died, I came here, looking for my father." He explained, Yeosang stopped looking out to the horizon. "Did you find him?" I asked also looking out at the ocean.

"Yes and no, I found out he died when his ship sunk, He was lost at sea. After that I found Hongjoong he was only thirteen I was twelve, his father was the pirate king of this ship after he died Hongjoong took charge when he turned fifteen" Yeosang explained.

After we finished he helped me down as he walked of telling me to go and help Yunho in the kitchen, I nodded walking down to the kitchen.

Opening the door I saw Yunho looking between two pots, his hand on his chin lost in thought, I walked up to him standing beside, He jumped not expecting me there.

"Oh Yn great I need help, Would you pick carrot soup or potato soup?" He asked looking down at me, I thought about it for a few seconds, "potato soup" I told him Yunho grinned at me as he picked up a sack of potatoes.

"Would you like some help?" I asked, as he put the potatoes down on the table, he nodded and handed me a knife as we both sat down and started peeling them.

"How did you become a pirate?" I assked after a few minutes of silence Yunho hummed thinking back, and looked down at me again.

"I was an orphan and I love the sea but we were always told to dream small, when I was thirteen a pirate ship stopped at the city, I was so excited I snuck aboard and found Hongjoong and Yeosang, Hongjoong asked his father if I could stay and he said yes. Since then I've been with this crew for years." He said I nodded smiling at his memory, the crew is like a family almost.

✥-----------------------†----------------------✥

The sky turns a deep twilight blue, with the fat white moon riding just above the horizon. It had now been a few hours since Hongjoong and Seonghwa left, I started to get worried about them but Yeosang reassured me that they would be fine but I could see the fear in both of their eyes.

The sound of running footsteps was heard as the three of us looked up seeing Hongjoong and Seonghwa running on to the ship, Hongjoong ran to the wheel as Seonghwa motioned us to set sail.

"Brace up for and aft, weigh anchor, hoist outer jib, haul out the spanker, brace round forward and set the courses." Hongjoong yelled as we got ready to set sail, as the wind pushed us forward I looked up watching Hongjoong wondering what happened.

In the dead of night we sailed in silence no one saying a word, until a large ship came out of the foggy night, hopefully the thick fog hid us from the larger ship.

"That Ship's a Monster! Look at the size of her!" Yunho said watching the ship the same as I. "Aye. And we'd not last long face to face with her. You hear that, Hongjoong? Keep your distance." Seonghwa said glearing at the captain.

"Stay in range of the target ship while avoiding detection. And we'll strike when fortune favors us." Hongjoong agreed as we slowly sailed away.

"Captain I have to ask, did you get the Sapphire?" Yeosang asked as he walked up the stairs, Hongjoong smiled letting go of the wheel, Seonghwa standing his his place.

"You mean this?" He asked taking out the gemstone from his coat pocket, the gemstone was large, we all surrounded it, it was truly beautiful, Hongjoong walked down to his cabin probably putting in somewhere safe.

✥----------------------†-----------------------✥

It had gotten late as everyone went to bed I stayed up not being able to sleep, I walked up to Seonghwa at the wheel.

"Can't sleep?" He asked as I leaned on the side looking out, I nodded as I turn around facing Seonghwa as he smiled softly at me.

"I love sailing at night it's when the ocean is the most peaceful, a beautiful night" he sighed breathing in the air, "It truly is" I said watching the starry sky.

"If you don't mind my asking, How did you become a pirate?" I asked I probably was annoying them with the questions but Hongjoong did say that there are no secrets on his ship.

"My father was the quartermaster of this ship, after he died Hongjoong wanted me to take over, this ship is all I know" he told me, I couldn't stop looking at Seonghwa seeing him like this, he is a beautiful man.

"Why don't you head off to bed it's getting late" he said I agreed saying goodnight as I made my way to the cabin, closing the door softly Yunho and Yeosang was still fast asleep.

✥----------------------†-----------------------✥

The next morning I woke up seeing that Yeosang was still asleep in the hammock but Yunho gone, probably making breakfast. I got out of the hammock making my way to the kitchen in hoping to help him again.

"Good morning Yn how are you?" Yunho asked as I entered the kitchen, he passed me an apple as I sat down munching on it as he sat infront of me.

"I'm good and you?" I asked as I finished up the apple and throwing the core away, "Excited, I can not wait till we get to spain and have all of us together" Yunho said, I laughed he looked like an excited puppy.

"Alright let's get breakfast ready for the boys we have a way still to go" Yunho said as we started making the breakfast.

✥------------------------†---------------------✥

A few more hours and we finally made it to spain, Puerto Rico was very busy as Hongjoong got to the wheel and Seonghwa help port.

"Haul down the jib!, hauld up the spanker, hard aport, let go anchor!" Hongjoong yelled as we rushed around ready to port.

"Where are they captain?" Yunho asked as he stood up on deck having a quick look not seeing anyone. "They told us they would be in the main tavern, not surprisingly" Seonghwa sighed as he rubbed his head.

I went to follow them but Hongjoong stopped me, he lead me to his cabin, taking a seat at his desk he opened up a draw placing a piece of paper on the desk.

"This is the map keep it with you, I want you to stay here while we find the guys, Yeosang will be staying with the ship also" Hongjoong said passing me the map.

He walked out and towards Yeosang probably telling him the same as me, Yeosang looked over at me and smiled, turning back to Hongjoong with a serious expression on his face then nodded.

"I guess we're on ship watch for now" Yeosang said as he walked up to me, grabbing my arm he pulled me to Hongjoong's cabin and walked to the desk.

"Hongjoong said you can read is that true?" He asked me, I nodded sitting down on ine of the chairs as he sat opposite. Placing a book on the desk he pointed at a word.

"I've researched everything about Utopia, but I still don't get this, Darren Mikaelson recorded his findings a few years ago, he was close but still didn't find it. We think and now know because of the gemstones, but this is your father is he not?" Yeosang asked looking up at me, I sat shocked not knowing what to say.

"I didn't even know he wrote findings down, my father never really spoke about his job, or to me after my mother's death" I said look down, Yeosang grabbed my arm rubbing it a soft smile on his face.

"I'm curious though, What made you want to follow Hongjoong to Utopia?" Yeosang asked, I looked down embarrassed as I brushed my hair out of my face.

"Well the other day I was proposed to by someone I knew my whole life, and I didn't want to marry him so I left to the bookstore and that's when all hell broke loose, I was arrested for being a witch because I can read and Hongjoong offer sounded a lot better" I explained, Yeosang eyes widened.

"You were going to get married?" He asked I nodded my head looking behind him at the large window that looked out to the ocean.

"I'd rather have adventure on the ocean blue than to be stuck in a house full of kids and looking after a husband I never will love" I sighed leaning on my hand.

"Makes sense" Yeosang said as he thought about it, he then looked back at me smiling, "Well your free here, your a lovely person to be around I'm sure everyone would want you to stay as long as you want" he said smiling, I grinned back.

"YEOSANG WE'RE HERE!" a loud voice yelled Yeosang slapped his hand to his face then sighed as he smiled sheepishly at me. "Once again the peace on this ship is disturbed by that loud mouth" he said as he got up and walking over to the door.

"Wooyoung could you be any louder, I don't think china heard" Yeosang said, I raised my hand to my mouth giggling at what he said, not expecting him to say something like that. Well I guess it's time to meet the rest of the crew.

#ateez x reader #ateez pirate au #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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duskyskz · 3 years ago

Text

50/50 - Teaser

Release - TBD

“You could stay the night with me, if you want. If that’d be easier.” He’s only a step behind you, having followed you quietly down most of the farmers’ market now. The sunhat he recognises you from by now bounces among the sea of hagglers on a Wednesday morning. “I know fights in relationships can be rough, so if you need a place to crash for the night, my couch is free.”

“Alright. But you know my flat number if, right? If something happens.”

“If something happens.” You promise, and leave him with a nagging sense of discomfort as your dress fades into the morning crowds.

***

He keeps talking still, even as his pointer finger comes in contact with your forehead to accentuate his point with a harsh poke that makes you lean backwards against the counter top.

The food is half eaten, but you don’t comment on the waste either. You’ll eat alone later, but the mess makes your exhaustion rear its head again when you think of cleaning it.

Would you really do it?

“No, it’s okay.” Minho protests before you can word your final ‘sorry’, moving aside to reveal the rest of his hallway. “I wasn’t asleep yet. Come in.”

And that’s it. You expected more, to be honest. Some kind of questioning at least, scrutiny at your visual (and mental) state.

So I’m not sure why I came.

Lee Minho was a glorious cook. Michelin level, you’d go so far to say had you ever been to a Michelin star restaurant in your life, but you were convinced he’d qualify. Turns out his leftovers consisted of seared steak with grilled vegetables and an assortment of flavoured rice balls, which he served you with cucumber salad you saw him purchase at the market earlier that day. This was more elaborate than any meal you’d attempted to cook in your life, and you’d tell him so were you not so occupied devouring it. Minho didn’t think you noticed him glancing at you across the table, but the amazement in your eyes filled his heart entirely. He’s seen you look content, happy even on days he’d catch you by the vegetable stalls and spark conversation despite your brisk pace.

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