#and that is why (despite red meat being the only food i really excel at when cooking) i will never own another cast iron skillet

[giantkillerjack]

Literally every piece of cookware/dish that has ever been devised in the history of mankind: You can wash me with soap and water!

Cast iron skillet: tehe 🤭 soap and water? I guess that's fine if you like your steak rusty haha 🙈 I can only be washed with salt and oil and lemon and spit or I will immediately die haha so just spit on me okay spit on me and make me clean, mommy 🤗🥵😏💦👅👅👅

Me:

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

wooohooo MCU gremlins drabble

Thor and Bruce examined the burn patters swirling on the remains of a wall, as Tony and Steve chatted to themselves.

“It’s been a month since these so-called Four Warriors were summoned, and we still haven’t found them. And now we know they have energy-based weapons.”

“But don’t you think that’s strange? These Warriors have been in New York for a month, and this is the first we’ve seen of any sort of attack.”

“Ahem.” Thor stood up. “I’m afraid that you are incorrect, Man of Iron.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Bruce stepped in, data pad in hand, which he passed to Tony. “The burn patterns here are too sporadic to be man-made. They look like natural lightning- or the kind of stuff Thor can summon. If I didn’t know this came from the middle of the city, I’d say the wall was just struck in a storm.”

Tony hummed. “So, what are you saying? Instead of the Warriors running around my city with weapons, they’re running around with superpowers? That’s worse!”

“Tony, you have to calm down.”

The Thunder God shook his head. “Actually, I have seen this kind of lightning before. It was made by a child of the stars- your people do not have a name for their race.”

Steve blinked. “An alien?”

“Yes, but one forged in the heart of a star. That is not the concerning thing about these markings, however.”

“What is it?”

“They are powerful, but wildly inaccurate. Whoever shot these blasts was not trained to use them effectively.”

“Meaning?”

“They are either a non-combatant... or a juvenile. I would tend towards the latter, as a fully grown star child would have more power in their blasts.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “It’s a kid? You’re sure?” He stopped. “Fuck.”

“Language.”

“Shut it, Rodgers. I just remembered something.” He tapped the data pad. “When we fought that weirdo with the staff, we saw a bunch of teenagers.”

Steve made a noise of realisation, and his heart sank. “Four teenagers. I thought they’d been caught up in the blast, so I made sure they got out safely. I only saw two of their faces- but they were definitely just freaked-out kids in over their heads.”

Bruce took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Are you saying he summoned teenagers to do his dirty work? Are you saying the dangerous Warriors SHIELD has been tracking are kids?”

“Most likely stranded kids, if they’re still in the city.”

“Fuck.”

Steve didn’t admonish him this time.

——————————————————————————

A good thing about a city that’s constantly under attack is that nobody looks at a beat-up teenager twice, except with pity. Tommy knew that from back in L’Manberg, and it still rang true in... wherever the fuck they were. New York? He kicked a rock. “Fuckin’ stupid name. I would have come up with a much cooler one.”

Purpled scoffed, but there was no malice in it. “Uh huh.” The Starborne kept an eye on the entrance to the alley, fingers flexing around a hidden knife. He wouldn’t be caught unawares again. “You’d have named it L’Yorkberg or something.”

“Like I said, a much cooler name.” Tommy shot his friend a grin, and the wall behind them promptly disappeared. A tall figure with a hood over his face beckoned them through, the wall clicking seamlessly back into place behind them.

Finally, safety. The house they’d found was abandoned, and if anyone had come across it they’d be... confused. Random chunks of soil, sand and marble in perfect cubes were scattered around the room, and every surface was covered with random bits and pieces of machinery.

Purpled swept some scrap metal off of a cube of granite, and emptied out the bag of food he’d snagged on top of it. “I got enough to last us the week. I don’t think they saw me, but we should go to a different store next time to be safe.” Tommy passed the hooded figure a handful of first-aid kits. “Did Tubbo get that fridge working?”

The hooded figure- Ranboo- nodded. “Yeah, put the meat and stuff in it so it doesn’t go bad.” That had been a shock- food in this world spoiling over time. They couldn’t get ill from it, just Hunger, but it was still unpleasant to eat. The worst part of it was that they couldn’t just stock up on bread and wait for someone to find them, they had to constantly go out to get food. At least the first-aid kits were just a precaution.

The ram hybrid in question leaned into the room. “Hey, guys! Did you run into any trouble?” Tommy shook his head emphatically, while Purpled looked sheepish. “No...”

Tubbo put his hands on his hips. “What happened?”

Purpled coughed, embarrassed. “We kind of got mugged. They wanted this green paper stuff we found.” Tommy puffed out his chest proudly, wings flicking mischievously under his hoodie. “Purpled kicked the shit out of them, you should have seen him! Zapped them right through a wall.”

The ram’s eyes lit up, radiation symbols dancing in his pupils. “Sick!”

Ranboo, on the other hand, looked slightly panicked. “Uhm, aren’t we trying to keep a low profile?”

Tommy shrugged. “Eh, we had our hoods up, plus there’s a fuckin’ million people in this city. It’ll be fine.”

Tubbo clapped his hands together twice, banishing the nervous air that had grown in the room. “Right. Ranboo, you’re still banned from the kitchen after the Spaghetti Incident, so Tommy, it’s your turn to cook.”

——————————————————————————

Tony Stark was not good at waiting. It took approximately seven seconds for JARVIS to illegally download the CCTV footage of the attack, and about sixty for everyone watching to see what had really happened. It was still too long for him.

Two teenagers were walking down an alleyway, one in a red hoodie and one in a purple one. They were talking together and laughing about something.

“Red has blond hair, blue eyes, about 6’3. I think he’s got a dyed white streak in his hair.” He’d roped Natasha in for this, her spy training making her excellent at spotting details others would miss. “Purple has lighter blond hair and... purple eyes? Huh. They could be blue too, just a trick of the light. He’s shorter than Red, maybe 5’11?”

One of the teenagers swung his bag at the other with a grin on his face. The other yelled at him. Two older men appeared at the other end of the alley.

The spy’s eyes narrowed. “Two adults, 20-25, Caucasian, wearing beanies and dark clothing. They’re armed, one of them is nervous but the other has done this before.”

One of the men pulled a gun, and the other cracked his knuckles. The teenagers scowled.

“Huh. Interesting. Red and Purple aren’t afraid of them. They look... annoyed, but not scared.”

The man with the gun lunged forward, and was promptly knocked through a wall with a blast of electricity. The other man froze, and the teenager in red hit him over the head with a bag, before bursting into nervous laughter.

Nat’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. Okay, now I get why you wanted me to see this.” She looked at Tony. “Mutants? Have you contacted Xavier yet?”

Tony shook his head. “Not just mutants. Thor thinks Purple is an alien. Called him ‘a child of the stars’ or something.”

Shadows appeared at the end of the alleyway. The teenager in red swore, the words clearly visible despite the silent recording. He tore off his hoodie to reveal a large pair of wings, and grabbed his purple-clad friend. The pair flew out of sight of the camera.

“Red might be a mutant, we don’t know. Neither of them are showing up on any databases. No birth records, schooling, missing persons reports, anything.”

Nat sat back in her chair. “Right. You got any idea where they went after this?”

He shook his head. “Not one. We can assume Red landed in a remote area and hid his wings, before meeting up with the other two.”

She rose an eyebrow. “Other two?”

“There were four teenagers at that battle, remember? Just after four great Warriors were supposedly summoned.”

Recognition flashed in the spy’s eyes. “You think they’re the Warriors? They’re a little young.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. Steve was pissed when we put two and two together and Bruce nearly Hulked out. Kids don’t belong on a battlefield.”

“What do we do now?”

“Look for patterns. Where we see them, and when. JARVIS is looking through all public cameras right now, and he’s already found Red and Purple stealing food from a nearby store a couple of times.”

“No sign of the other two?”

“Not yet. Although, they could just be better at hiding. Hell, one of ‘em could have invisibility powers or something. Hard to tell.”

She shook her head. “I doubt it.”

Tony recognised that calculating look in her eyes. “You’ve figured something out. Alright. What’ve you got for me?”

She steepled her fingers together. “Put it this way. You’re a kid, and let’s for argument’s sake say you’ve been summoned to an unknown city, possibly even an unknown planet. You’re lost, and you’re evidently not able to get money or food, if you’re stealing from stores regularly.”

“Right.”

“If one of you has invisibility, why risk the visible ones getting caught? Why not just send them instead? No, my money is on Red and Purple being the most inconspicuous.”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“They’re the easiest to blend in- the most baseline human-looking. And considering one’s an alien and one has wings, that’s saying a lot. The other two might not be able to go out in public without causing a scene.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about it that way. But it makes sense.”

She shrugged. “Or the other two could be injured. Red was holding a bag full of medical supplies.”

“Shit. We need to find them, and fast.”

!!!!!

:D

[greatbigbellies]

New commission for @wesoftupinhere of their nb vampire being overdue with orc triplets! Contains multiples pregnancy, physical discomfort, some belly rubs, and overall wholesomeness! Enjoy, and go check out their art!

20 days. Just short of three full weeks. THAT’S how many days overdue they were. They were technically warned about this before taking on the contract. “Orcs are stubborn, and slow to wake. You could end up with whole weeks of extra gestation time,” she’d said. If only the vampire had listened. Now, eight and a half, pushing nine, months pregnant with three rowdy orcs… they were regretting their decision. 

So they did as they’d been doing for the last three weeks: waddling down the candle lit corridors of their mansion. Waddle, waddle, waddle. The soft, burgundy slippers padded along the ornate rugs that lay on the ground, out of sight of the surrogate due to their own massive, oblong belly. 

They wore a matching, dark red robe and pants, all of which parted to reveal a pale, pregnant belly, blushing pink slightly around the bellybutton, due to the sheer pressure. Their hands held the ballooning sides of their tummy, giving a little much needed support. Orcs were, as expected, heavy creatures, and storing three in one’s womb made it hard to even walk. Still, they walked, pacing the halls in hopes that they would go into labor soon. 

The pains of the pregnancy had been dull and aching, as their body grew accustomed to its three large occupants. They’d been a surrogate before, so they knew the sharp, stabbing sensation of a contraction. This seemed to never come. Instead they woke up each evening, hungrier, rounder, and heavier than the day before.

They grew momentarily frustrated with their predicament, groaning loudly. They gripped the sides of their beach ball sized belly and jostled it up and down slightly. “Why won't you come out!?” they moaned. All this did was cause the orc babies and amniotic fluid to slosh around in their overfilled womb, and resulted in a sharp kick in the ribs for their trouble. They pressed their fingers into the top shelf of their belly and groaned again, “You’re right I’m sorry. You’re just… very late…” they sighed, and continued waddling.

They walked past a mirror hung from the wall, and saw… nothing. Because they were a vampire, and had no reflection. They knew what they’d see if they did though. A tired, overdue, disheveled pregnant vampire, with nothing to do but pace. Their long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but still managed to be messy, loose strands laying anywhere they wished. Their belly was massive, sticking out so far they could barely reach around to their own navel, which was popped. It, and the skin around it had a pinkish hue from being so overstretched. How much bigger could they possibly get?

They pushed their hands into their lower back to try to get it to pop, but no such luck. They sighed. They were so tired… and they’d already slept for 14 hours today… they felt their tummy rumble slightly, and knew it was feeding time. “I’m making my way to the dining hall!” they called out. “So by the time my slow pregnant ass gets there I’d really like to see some food on that table!” they yelled to anyone within earshot. They weren’t usually this demanding, but being so overdue had made them cranky. They huffed and set off, their waddling gait carrying them forward, one labored step at a time

About 10 minutes later, a drop of sweat rolling down their forehead, they waddled into the dining area to see one of their help staff, a very diminutive goblin in a smart little suit, placing a piece of raw, bleeding steak on the huge, ornate table. The vampire waddled up to and flopped heavily into the chair, causing it to creak beneath their increased weight. The goblin folded his arms behind his back, and nodded toward the plate. “The food you requested, master,” the surrogate had always liked this particular member of the wait staff. He was dutiful, took his work seriously, and didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. “Thank you,” said the vampire simply before taking a piece of red meat in his hands and biting into it. The taste of blood and raw red steak hit their tongue and instantly they felt better. It seemed like their mouth wasn’t big enough to handle the amount of food they wanted to eat.

“Where did we get this stuff?” they asked. The goblin tilted his head to the side in thought. “I-I’m not sure, master, I’ll have to ask the kitchen staff,” he replied. The vampire nodded between large bites. “Wherever it’s from, I want more of it. Probably the best tasting thing I’ve eaten in weeks,” they said. The goblin nodded. “The cooks have been trying to select things that you’re craving, master. T-they really do want to keep you happy,” said the well dressed goblin as he watched the surrogate’s belly. The orcs inside reacted to the incoming meat with a flurry of visible kicks, eliciting a groan from the vampire as they started on their second steak. 

“Ugh… they’re so active when I eat…” they said, to themselves as much as to their companion. The goblin looked up at their tired face sympathetically. “Awfully rambunctious for orges,” noted the goblin. “They’re orcs, and about as rambunctious as one would expect from orcs,” corrected the surrogate. The goblin nodded, then smiled wholesomely. “Orc babies are so cute,” he placed his index fingers at the edges of his mouth, mimicking tusks. “Their cute little tuskies are so dull and nubby!” they grinned. The vampire smiled weakly before taking another bite. Their dumb little baby tusks were actually really cute.

Their belly visibly distorted as one of the orcs rolled around inside them, causing them to wince. “Could you… y’know…” they gestured to their mammoth midriff. “What, master?” the goblin tilted his head again. The vampire sighed. “Could you… rub my belly please? It’s achy and my hands are full of food,” the goblin’s eyes widened at the request, but he simply nodded and stepped forward. He reached his gloved hands out to the huge belly that rested between the surrogate’s legs, bumping and nudging with movement. The goblinoid had never been this close to it before, and he took a moment to appreciate that he could probably fit inside of it if he curled up tightly enough. He very slowly and gingerly placed his hands on the front, lower hemisphere of the vampires pinkened belly, and rubbed little circles, applying the least amount of pressure possible. “Like this, master?”

They swallowed another bite and shook their head, a motion that the goblin couldn’t see past the belly. “Bigger circles, and a little more pressure. It’s a tummy, it’s not going to hurt you,” they sighed. The satin gloves felt amazing on their overstretched skin, but they needed a little more ‘oomph’ to stave off the ache of their muscles. The goblin’s open hands ran larger, slower circles, and he pushed slightly into the belly, causing the vampire to coo and lean back a little. “Yeah, like that. That’s nice,” 

They slowly chewed the last morsel of meat, and closed their eyes. The shredded strips of steak oozed slightly, coating their tongue in delectable blood. They swallowed and sighed, focusing on the sensation of a pair of small three fingered hands on their bare bump. The soft, cool satin fabric glided over the warm, firm skin of their underbelly, and applied just enough pressure to be relieving. The goblin paused when one of the baby orcs kicked directly into the palm of his hand. “Was that…?” he trailed off. “A foot,” they stated plainly.

The goblin nodded, and continued rubbing. A comfortable silence hung between the pair as the surrogate received the much needed pampering. Eventually the goblin spoke up again. “Is it… possible to hear the heartbeats?” he asked. The vampire thought for a moment, “Maybe. My midwife uses a stethoscope to listen, but you’re welcome to try,” they shrugged. The goblin smiled proudly, wiggling his large, green, pointed ears. “Us goblins have excellent hearing!” he wrapped his arms around the sides of the vampire’s belly and placed an ear next to their bellybutton. They closed their eyes and listened closely. The vampire smiled.

“I can hear them!” they exclaimed, before getting kicked in the face by one of the orcs. The surrogate placed a hand on the top shelf of their belly and smiled down at the little goblinoid. “What are your duties, little goblin?” they asked. The goblin released their tummy and took a few steps back, furrowing his brow in thought. “Well… sometimes I help in the kitchen with dishes… sometimes I’m bussing tables… I’m one of the wait staff when we have guests over! But… you haven’t had guests in a while…” he listed, trailing off. The vampire chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t really invite people over when I’m too big to entertain…” they patted their belly lightly.

The goblin nodded again. He was an avidly good listener. The vampire realized that, despite carrying three people with them at all times… they were lonely. They idly rubbed their tummy and looked down at the diminutive goblin, who stood with his hands folded behind his back, ready for another request. “Tell you what, if you help me up, and walk with me for a spell, you can have the rest of the night off,” they offered. The goblin grinned widely, “Okay!” he stepped forward and took the vampires hands. “Pull backward as hard as you can okay?” they instructed. “Won’t that hurt you? I’m very strong,” he warned. The surrogate blinked for a moment, then smiled again. “I’ll be okay,” they said, “On the count of three, okay? One… two… three,” the goblin gripped their hands tightly and pulled back, helping the overdue vampire get to their feet, they released his hands and stood upright, eliciting a cacophony of popping noises from their lower back.

“Ooph… okay, that was perfect, thank you,” they exhaled. The goblin flexed in his little suit, a truly adorable gesture. “Told you I was strong, master!” he said. The surrogate smiled, showing their sharp fangs. “Where are we walking to?” he asked. The vampire took one heavy-footed step, then another, toward the hall they’d come from. “Right now, we just walk. No destination in mind, just walking,” they sighed. The goblin nodded and fell into step next to them, having no trouble keeping up despite being so much smaller.

“I’ve seen you walking a lot lately. It seems like all you do is walk around and take breaks to eat. Are you worried about something?” he asked. “No, no…” they padded along, supporting the bloated sides of their belly. “Not worried, just tired. Walking will help the babies get ready to be born,” they explained. The goblin tilted his head to the side, “But you sleep so much! How could you be tired?” he said, quite candidly and meaning no offense. The vampire rolled their eyes, but couldn’t help being amused at the goblin’s honesty. “Well, being pregnant takes a lot of energy. Being pregnant with three takes more energy. And being pregnant with three rowdy, overdue orcs somehow takes even more,” they explained, holding up their tummy for emphasis.

The goblin looked at the vampire’s gigantic belly and understood. “Do you need me to rub it again?” he asked. “Maybe later… thank you though,” the pair fell into another comfortable silence. The surrogate vampire waddled along, their long legs carrying them forward with slow, heavy steps. The goblin, on the other hand, meandered along next to them, taking much quicker, smaller steps with his much shorter legs. The pair made their way into a hallway with large, bay windows, providing a panoramic view of the night sky. It was a full moon tonight, and the vampire found themselves thankful they weren’t carrying werewolves this time. They glanced down at their little goblin friend, who dutifully walked next to them, and felt a second wind hit at the thought of their companionship. Perhaps they didn’t have to feel so lonely while pacing these long, moonlit halls.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 7

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

FIVE DAYS LATER

BJORNHEIMR, THE TEMPLE

Eivor cradled the basket in his hand, meticulously examining its contents to ensure that everything was in order.

At the moment, he was preparing to make an offering to Thor as thanks for their good fortune on the day of the ambush, and had arranged a humble collection of different gifts for the mighty god.

Inside the basket, he had placed a variety of meat, beer, mead, sweets, and a dagger from his own personal armory. Normally, Eivor wasn’t the type to depend entirely on the gods for safety, but considering recent events, he wanted to secure a strong relationship with them in case a tempest were to strike the village. He had no idea if Kjotve was planning any other attacks in addition to the ambush, and he could think of no one better to appeal to other than the Defender of Midgard. 

He just worried that his offering might not have been sufficient. It was a well-known fact that the thunder god enjoyed things in great quantity, and Eivor didn’t have that much to give at the moment. Ingrida always said that no offering was too small, but even then, the man prayed that his gift wouldn’t be considered measly. Things were precarious enough in Bjornheimr as it was; Eivor did not wish to vex the gods as well.

Working his way up the hill, the Wolf-Kissed spread a layer of cloth over the basket’s opening and held it tightly underneath his arm, careful not to disturb its contents.

He could hear the drinks sloshing inside their bottles to the rhythm of his footsteps, and a handful of scattered clinks reached his ears as they softly bumped into each other. Meanwhile, tiny snowflakes began to gather on the fabric lying above, and sunk into the cloth’s neatly-knit threads. They dotted the surface with jeweled specks of ice and clung onto Eivor’s skin, giving him a slight chill. 

The weather wasn’t exactly ideal for spending any time outside -- the snow seemed to be piling up higher than usual today -- but the young man carried on with his plan nonetheless. 

Reaching the top of the hill, Eivor strolled past the charms decorating the sides of the path, only to stop in his tracks when a nearby pair of voices caught his attention.

Up ahead, Eivor saw Ingrida and Sigurd talking with each other underneath the roof of the temple, just barely avoiding the snow that came blowing their way. The prince wore a wary expression on his face and spoke to the seeress about a matter of deep concern, causing a sense of anxiety to swell in Eivor’s chest.

It was fairly clear to the Wolf-Kissed that his friend spent a lot of energy concealing the many troubles in his life, but the fact that he felt the need to reach out to their völva worried him to a significant degree.

He hadn’t seen Sigurd ever since their conversation in the tavern after all, and he was oblivious to any new issues that may have risen during their time apart. It was unusual to see the prince in such a state, and Eivor had to admit that his curiosity was beginning to get the best of him.

He only hoped that Ulfar wasn’t the source of his perturbed nature. The man made his feelings about Sigurd quite plain back in the tavern, and Eivor had never known him as a person to shy away from confrontation. It was a blessing of a trait in most situations, but a hinderance in this one.

“...You’re certain there’s no other explanation?” Sigurd asked, clearly unhappy with the response he got.

Ingrida crossed her arms, reiterating her point. “I will tell you the same thing I told Eivor. I cannot speak in absolutes, for I do not know the gods’ intentions. I can attempt to decipher the messages they convey, but ultimately, it is impossible to offer anything unambiguous.”

The prince let out a troubled sigh. “I... I see.”

“I realize this must be disturbing news, but look at it this way. At least you are prepared now. You have an inkling of what to expect, and sometimes, a mere suspicion can be enough to save one’s life. Obviously, I do not mean to stoke any paranoia within you, but a little caution would be wise.”

Sigurd nodded, taking the woman’s words to heart. “Of course, but you understand if I say this is difficult for me to accept. I don’t doubt your prediction, seeress, but... I just can’t fathom why anyone would--”

The man came to an abrupt pause, stopping mid-sentence when his eyes fell upon Eivor in the distance.

“--Oh,” he said, his voice still laden with unease, “Eivor. I didn’t see you there.”

Ingrida followed Sigurd’s line of sight, smiling in the Wolf-Kissed’s direction. “Ah, hello, little cub.” She eyed the basket in his hands. “Come to make an offering?”

Eivor hugged the object close to his chest, admittedly growing somewhat weary of bearing its weight.

“Yes, seeress. I hoped to thank Thor for our survival in the forest.”

The woman appeared pleased. “An excellent idea. Go on and present your gift to the gods. I will ensure that nothing disturbs it.” Ingrida brought her eyes back to the prince. “As for you, Sigurd, try not to let this revelation suppress you. You are a man of many responsibilities. Your clan needs you to stay focused.”

“...Of course. You’re right.”

“I’m glad you understand.” Ingrida began making her way back inside the temple, strolling through the arch. “This war is nearly over, but the battle has not ceased. Do not surrender just yet. Either of you.”

Shutting the door behind her, the seeress disappeared behind the temple’s walls and returned to her duties, leaving Eivor and Sigurd alone. Meanwhile, the younger man approached his friend and glanced at him in an inquisitive manner, hoping to calm his nerves somewhat.

“Sigurd?” He asked. “Are you alright? A cloud of unrest hangs over you.”

The prince took a moment to gather his thoughts, not wanting to alarm his companion too much. “I’m... I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.” He glanced at the basket in his grasp. “What’ve you got there?”

Eivor lifted the cloth. “Just some food and drink for Thor, and a blade as well. I figured I should bring something of great quantity considering our luck that day. What about you? What brings you to the temple? You looked... frightened when I arrived.”

Sigurd sauntered towards the other man, speaking as he walked. “Nothing of immediate urgency. I’ve just been having these strange dreams lately. Visions.”

“Visions? Really? Of what?”

“A wolf.” He answered. “At first, I merely dismissed the dream as a simple nightmare, but it’s been occurring over and over again. In the same way, and in the same order. So, I came to Ingrida for answers.”

Eivor’s interest was hooked. “Tell me about this wolf. What did it do? What did it look like?”

“The wolf was as white as snow,” Sigurd described. “Its eyes split the darkness with a predatory glare, and its stature challenged that of a fully grown man. Its snout and teeth were stained red with the pigment of fresh blood, and hiding behind its features, I... I could almost... recognize someone.”

“Recognize?” Eivor repeated. “What do you mean? This was a wolf, was it not? How could it resemble a human?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, but... I felt it. There was something familiar about the wolf’s face. It was a sensation that I have no proper words to describe.”

The young man tilted his head towards the temple. “And? What did Ingrida have to say about these visions?”

Sigurd was quiet for a second, hesitant to tell the truth.

“...She believes this vision foretells a betrayal.”

Eivor’s eyes widened in surprise. “A betrayal? At whose hands?”

“She doesn’t know, and neither do I. I have no reason to suspect anyone just yet, but somehow, that almost makes it even worse.”

“How did the seeress come to this conclusion?” Eivor questioned. “What makes her believe betrayal is the only answer?”

“Because she had a similar vision,” Sigurd explained. “Ingrida tells me the gods sent her a dream the night before I arrived. Apparently, she saw a man who looked just like me. He bore the same mark upon his neck, and his eyes glowed with a raging fire. The ground beneath him was soaked in blood dripping from the stump of his own arm, and standing behind him was another white wolf, prowling in the shadows.”

A thought crossed Eivor’s mind. “...I suppose that explains why she called you ‘the one who walks with Tyr.’ It also explains why she was skeptical of you when you first met.”

“I suppose it does,” the prince agreed. “But what connection could I possibly have with Tyr? And why me? What makes me so special?”

Eivor shrugged. “I don’t know. You mentioned you used to have dreams about a kingdom constructed of iron when you were a child. Do you think that could be related?”

“...Perhaps? But I don’t see how it would fit into all this. The kingdom I saw looked nothing like any of the places I’ve ever heard about. Not Helheim, and certainly not Valhalla. It likely originates from a place beyond this realm, but the purpose of its existence continues to elude me.”

Sigurd sighed deeply, resting his hands on his hips. “...Forgive me. I don’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You probably have enough on your shoulders.” He switched to a lighter subject, deciding to put his fears to rest for the time-being. 

“How have you been, Eivor? Is your wound feeling any better? I planned to check on you multiple times, but I fear that my duties always got in the way.”

“No worries. It’s just started to heal. Ingrida says it’s going to leave quite a prominent scar in its absence, but well, it’s better than dying.”

A smirk twinkled on Sigurd’s face. “...I like it.”

“Really?”

“Why not? It gives you character. It makes you look like a warrior.”

Eivor chuckled. “That, or a fool who wasn’t able to handle himself in a fight.”

Sigurd’s smile only brightened. “Nonsense. Each scar you bear is a battle that you survived. Wear it with pride.” He patted his friend on the arm. “But enough about that. I was actually planning to visit you after speaking with the seeress.”

The Wolf-Kissed quirked a brow. “What for?”

“I wanted to take you up on your offer. For fishing. I was down at the docks earlier today, and saw some decent-looking fish roaming in the water. Still in the mood for it?”

Eivor nodded, grinning joyously at the man. “Without a doubt. We can find a boat and take it into the fjord. There are plenty of spots I can show you. Just let me finish my offering for Thor first.”

“Of course. I’ll meet you there when you’re ready. In the meantime, I’ll gather some supplies. See you soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

THE DOCKS

Pacing eagerly towards the pier, Eivor strolled excitedly through the village with an unusual spring in his step, smiling to himself as he briskly made his way past all the other buildings.

It had been a while since he last got the chance to spend any time with Sigurd, and he imagined that the two of them would have plenty of catching up to do. Even though they hadn’t bumped into each other for the past few days, Eivor always spotted the prince zipping back and forth around Bjornheimr, tending to his never-ending list of duties.

The man always looked so busy. Eivor was well-aware that a prince’s life wasn’t nearly as laid-back as other people expected, but even Sigurd’s schedule seemed to be overflowing with a ludicrous amount of responsibilities. He hardly had any time to even sit down, and the sockets around his eyes had darkened slightly due to a lack of sleep.

Eivor just hoped Sigurd was okay.

Finally arriving at the docks, the Wolf-Kissed came to a halt and gazed at this surroundings, trying to single out the prince’s head of red hair from the crowd. He eventually located the tall man standing at the edge of the pier with a basket and a pair of fishing rods, but to Eivor’s surprise, he wasn’t alone.

Dag seemed to have also joined the party, in spite of the sour expression plastered on his face. He was conversing with Sigurd in an agitated tone, and his brow had crinkled in a manner that displayed obvious annoyance. Strangely enough though, the prince didn’t appear to mirror his temperament. 

Just what was going on?

“Sigurd!” Eivor called out, causing both of them to turn their heads.

“Ah,” Sigurd replied radiantly, “Eivor. There you are. I was just asking Dag if he wanted to join us. I hope that’s not a problem?”

The younger man would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat disappointed, but he didn’t have the heard to tell him “no.” He knew Dag was a close friend of Sigurd’s after all, and he didn’t want to interfere. But still... part of him had been looking forward to spending the day with the prince alone.

“No,” Eivor lied, “not at all. He can come if he likes.”

“Great.” Sigurd brought his gaze to Dag. “So, what do you say? Care to go fishing with us?”

To Eivor’s relief, the man refused.

“I appreciate the offer,” Dag said flatly, “but I can’t accept. I have other things to do. You two go on without me.”

“Are you sure?” Sigurd asked, somewhat put off by his friend’s dour mood. “The weather has calmed down since this morning. Now’s the perfect opportunity to take a break. We’ll only be gone for a short while.”

Dag nodded in a dismissive fashion. “Yes, I’m sure. I have many things to take care of, and I’m afraid they cannot wait. Like I said, you two can go without me.”

Sigurd’s eyes dimmed at his friend’s response. “...Well, alright. If you’re certain.”

“I am. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” 

Storming off like a pouty toddler, Dag practically stomped away from the scene and swiftly made himself scarce, leaving Sigurd and Eivor with an uncomfortable silence. The two of them watched in confusion as the man disappeared in the distance, and not too longer after he vanished, they exchanged glances with each other, bewildered by what just happened.

“What was that about?” Eivor asked. “Is something wrong with Dag?”

Sigurd sighed in frustration, reaching down to grab the basket. “You know what? I’ve been asking myself the same thing. Dag’s been acting this way ever since the feast, and I don’t know why. This kind of behavior is unusual for him.”

“Have you talked to him?”

The older man lifted the basket onto his shoulder, walking towards the end of the pier as Eivor followed him from behind.

“Not yet, no. And even if I did, I’m not sure he would give me a straight answer. Dag’s never been the type to open up so easily. I’m just wondering if it’s because of something I did.”

His friend was quiet for a moment. “Does Dag always behave like this?”

Sigurd shook his head. “No, actually. He’s still the same man I know most of the time, but... recently, he’s been going through these random bouts of anger. And they’re always directed at me.”

The prince placed the basket down on a boat waiting beside the pier, carefully stepping onto it as it gently bobbed up and down with the water’s movement.

“I just wish he would talk to me. Dag is a dear friend of mine, and I don’t want anything to be wedged between us. Especially not after hearing Ingrida’s prediction.”

Eivor gave him a sympathetic look. “Try not to let it worry you. I’m sure Dag’s just stressed out from the constant battling with Kjotve. I know we all are. He’ll open up to you when he’s ready.”

Sigurd let out a breath. “...I hope so. I have enough on my plate at the moment. I don’t have time to be running around in circles with Dag. The sooner he opens up, the better.” 

He suddenly glanced up at his companion, deciding to leave the subject alone. “But push that aside. You came here to fish, not to listen to my life problems. Are you ready to go?”

The younger man stepped off the dock and took a seat across from Sigurd, excited for the ride ahead.

“Ready when you are.”

“Wonderful. Thank you for coming with me, by the way, Eivor. I apologize if I seem more stern than usual. I fear that this past week taken a toll on me.”

Eivor took no offense. “There’s no need to apologize. We’re all going through a lot. It’s only normal. Just try to forget about it for now.”

“I’m glad you understand. You seem to be the only one these days. But... you’re right. Today is a day meant for relaxing. Let us not spoil it. Come on, why don’t you show me those fishing spots you mentioned? I’m eager to see them.”

The Wolf-Kissed grabbed the oar and smirked at Sigurd, pushing their boat away from the pier. “As you command, my prince.”

~~~~~~~~~~

BJORNHEIMR, THE FJORD

Venturing deep into the fjord’s divine embrace, Sigurd and Eivor traversed across the water’s glassy surface, steadily gliding along with its rippled waves. They made sure not to put too much distance between them and the village as they did with the waterfall, but even then, the sheer size of the fjord was enough to make them feel as if they had stepped into another world.

All around them, mountains extended into the sky for what seemed like miles, and appeared to kiss the base of the clouds. Their peaks were frosted with fresh snow that floated down from the heavens, and their base remained concealed beneath the ocean, forming a basin fit for the gods themselves.

Meanwhile, a thin curtain of fog draped itself over the mountains’ rugged forms and obscured the landscape waiting ahead, encompassing the world in a layer of mist that stood as a barrier between the two men and the secular village they left behind.

It was the perfect place to clear one’s thoughts, and Eivor could see that Sigurd was already beginning to unwind. The disquieted expression that once hung on his face had vanished, and at the moment, he was currently sitting peacefully on the boat, watching contently as fish poked their fins out from the water’s surface. 

They were completely alone out here, and Eivor wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“So,” the younger man said, “what’ve you been doing these past few days? I haven’t had the chance to talk with you in a while.”

“Oh, nothing too exciting,” Sigurd answered, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve joined your father and Ulfar at the war table quite a few times now, and I’ve also been getting to know Randvi more. It’s difficult to juggle between the two, but things have been going according to plan so far.”

Eivor threw a puzzled look at him. “What about your father? Does he not take part in your conversations in the war room?”

The other man hesitated for a second. “Oh, h-he does, but... well, he’s been occupied lately. Sometimes I take his place.”

Eivor couldn’t deny that he found the response a bit odd, but he decided not to pry any further. “I see. And what about Ulfar? I hope he hasn’t given you any trouble.”

It was Sigurd’s turn to be confused now. “Ulfar? No, none at all. Why would he?”

The Wolf-Kissed sighed sheepishly, unsure of how to explain. He assumed Ulfar would have already expressed his concerns to the prince about his ability to be a leader, but evidently, he was wrong. 

“I, well... I suppose there’s no harm in letting you know. The day you and I went to the tavern, Ulfar stayed for a drink after you left. Initially, he was in a rather foul mood, and it was directed at you. He said you almost got me killed in the forest.”

A look of guilt spread across Sigurd’s face. “...Ah, I see.”

“I spoke with him, though,” Eivor reassured. “I convinced Ulfar it wasn’t your fault, and he told me he’d withhold any further judgement for now. That’s why I asked if he had given you any trouble. I was curious to know if he still harbored these doubts. But don’t let it bother you. Whatever Ulfar does, it’s only to keep me and my siblings safe.”

Sigurd shook his head in disagreement. “No, he’s right. I should’ve been more careful that day. I made a foolish decision, and you nearly paid the price. It’s a good thing you’re a skilled warrior. Otherwise, I’d probably be responsible for your death by now.”

Eivor’s expression sank with pity. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault what happened in the woods that day. You could’ve run off at the first sign of danger, but instead, you risked your life to save me. And everyone knows it. Even Ingrida.”

“Well, I may not be at fault,” the man conceded, “but I was ill-prepared for such an ordeal. If I’m going to be king someday, I need to be able to protect people. That includes you.” Sigurd shifted his position slightly, sitting more upright. “I promise, Eivor, I won’t endanger you like that again.”

The young man grinned. “I appreciate it, but we’re in the midst of a war. I’m afraid we don’t have much choice. Anything can happen at any time.”

“True, but I’ll still do everything I can to keep you and your people safe.” Sigurd displayed a small smile. “Death may be inevitable, but that’s no reason to let it take us so willingly. That’s why we have shields.”

Eivor chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”

The two of them trailed off into silence briefly, only for the prince to bring up another topic.

“Hey, speaking of Ulfar, did you hear his report?”

“No.” Eivor said.

“Well, apparently, he and his men found two camps in the woods not too far from where we were attacked. They both belonged to Kjotve.”

“Really? How many men were there?”

Sigurd conjured a rough estimation. “About ten each.”

“Ten?” The Wolf-Kissed repeated in alarm. “That’s nearly two dozen in total. That’s enough men to carry out a small raid.”

“Indeed. We’re lucky Ulfar was able to drive them out before their numbers grew anymore. Thankfully though, he didn’t uncover any plans to attack Bjornheimr. He believes these particular men were just scouts sent here to keep an eye on the village and send information back to Kjotve. Our encounter with them wasn’t coordinated. A few of his people simply decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Eivor found some comfort in that. “Well, that’s a relief, at least. Still, I wonder how Kjotve will respond to this.”

Sigurd raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“If these men were sending regular reports to Kjotve, he’s going to realize something’s wrong when they come to a sudden stop. He might even send reinforcements.”

The older man couldn’t help but admit he had a point. “Hmm. That does sound likely. I’ll have to warn your father and Ulfar about the possibility of retaliation. We may be preparing for a wedding, but Freya knows that won’t stop Kjotve from spilling blood.”

A shiver traveled down Eivor’s spine. “What if... what if he comes to Bjornheimr? What do you think we’ll do?”

The answer seemed fairly clear to Sigurd. “We’ll fight, of course. What else?”

“No, no,” his friend corrected, “I didn’t quite mean it like that. I just...” Eivor gazed down at his father’s axe, tracing a hand down its grip, “...I’ve spent so many years thinking about how I would take my revenge on Kjotve; for what he did to my parents. I’ve convinced myself that I’d slit his throat without a second thought, but... if he actually shows up, I don’t know if it’ll be that easy. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

A sense of empathy softened Sigurd’s eyes. “It won’t be easy. But whatever happens, make sure you fight for what matters. Ideally, Kjotve will never set foot on your shores, but if he does, fight not for revenge. Fight for the honor your father lost. Only then can you know true peace.”

Eivor stared aimlessly at the water surrounding them, trying to block out the memories of that horrible night. “...I’ll try. Even if it kills me.”

The younger man watched the soothing rhythm of the waves dancing around them and fell into a deep train of thought, only to be pulled out again when Sigurd’s voice reached his ears.

“Hey,” he said gently, leaning closer to his companion, “are you alright, Eivor?”

The Wolf-Kissed blinked a few times, still somewhat lost in his own past. “Yes. I’m fine. It’s just... difficult to think about, you know. My parents were killed over a decade ago, and yet, their words from that night remain fresh in my head. It’s hard to ignore them sometimes.”

“Of course,” Sigurd replied. “I understand.”

“Anyway,” Eivor said, not wishing to dwell on the grim subject any longer, “you mentioned you’ve been seeing Randvi more earlier. How are things going between the two of you?”

“We still don’t know each other that well,” Sigurd confessed, “but she strikes me as a kind woman; an honorable one. I think we can make this marriage work. Although, I must admit... it’s bizarre to think about how she’ll be my wife in only a week from now. The future felt so far away when I first got here, and yet, these past seven days have fleeted by within a heartbeat. It just makes me wonder how fast the wedding will arrive.”

Eivor caught onto his tone. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes, and so is Randvi. But I think we’re both slowly coming to terms with it.” A glint of curiosity formed in the prince’s gaze. “What about you, Eivor? Have you ever considered marriage?”

The man laughed. “Me? No, not really. I’ve had partners in the past, but... nothing serious. It’s difficult to imagine someone marrying me, if I’m being honest.”

Sigurd scoffed. “Psh. Nonsense. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their spouse.”

“You think?”

The older man shrugged. “Why not? You’re compassionate, humorous, handsome, and--” Sigurd suddenly froze in shock, utterly embarrassed by his own words.

Meanwhile, Eivor simply gave him an appreciative smirk, undeniably amused by his slip-up.

“You consider me handsome, do you?” He teased.

Sigurd stammered bashfully and brought a hand to the back of his neck, barely able to hold eye contact with the Wolf-Kissed anymore. “Gods above... erm, f-forgive me, Eivor. I... I didn’t mean to--”

“--It’s alright.” He interrupted. “The truth is, I think you’re handsome too.”

The prince paused at Eivor’s remark, calming down somewhat. “You... do?”

Eivor chuckled, leaning forward in his seat. “Yes, you fool. Who wouldn’t? You’re strong, kind, caring, and you...” the young man caught himself before he could say anything else and stopped mid-sentence, abruptly retreating from his comments as Sigurd watched him quietly.

“...No,” Eivor said, his tone much more sullen now. “I can’t do this.”

Sigurd found himself growing concerned. “What’s wrong?”

The other man sighed in despondency, looking shamefully away from his friend. Eivor assured Ingrida that he wouldn’t allow his emotions to interfere with the upcoming wedding, and yet, he had barely been able to stop himself just now.

His thoughts slipped free from his lips as if they carried a mind of their own, and if it weren’t for the fact that everyone’s safety was depending on this alliance, Eivor had no idea how far he truly would’ve gotten. 

His ability to restrain his desires was already being crippled just after a week of knowing Sigurd, and the looming reality of his feelings was enough to send Eivor into a state of panic and loneliness. 

These next few days were going to be nothing but absolute turmoil for him, and sooner or later, he’d have to accept it. He just didn’t know how.

“Sigurd...” Eivor whispered sorrowfully, “...can I be honest with you?”

The older man nodded. “Of course. What’s going on?”

The Wolf-Kissed looked him directly in the eye, taking a deep breath. “...The truth is, ever since we met at that feast, I’ve been infatuated with you.”

Sigurd’s brow furrowed in shock. “...You have?”

“Yes. Whenever we’re apart, I’m always thinking about when I’ll see you next, or how you’re doing. I care about you, and I worry about your well-being despite being no more than an acquaintance.”

The prince knotted his hands together in thought. “And what about when you’re with me?”

Eivor showed a faint smile to him, but its facade was quickly betrayed by the pain in his gaze. “I feel at peace. I feel like nothing in the world can touch us. I feel a certain way that I’ve never felt before with anyone else, and it... it frightens me sometimes.”

The young man continued. “But I can’t allow these feelings to develop any further. No matter how persistent they may be. We’re both bound by our duties, and yours is to secure an alliance with my clan. The only thing I can provide for you is a distraction that you can’t afford.” Eivor slunk back to his end of the boat, hiding inside the shell that he constantly wore. “...I’m sorry, Sigurd. But our relationship can’t go beyond this.”

Sigurd offered nothing other than silence in return and simply delved into his own thoughts, gazing downwards in a desolate manner. It was clear that he mirrored the same affections that Eivor expressed, but he felt even more reluctant to share them now that he knew about the other man’s views.

It was the burden of being a prince, he supposed. Everyone always told Sigurd that his choices were his own, and yet, he was being forced to repress something that others would’ve been more than happy to admit. His life had been nothing more than one big preparation to rule the kingdom someday, but he felt as if he hardly had any control over his own life.

Still, Sigurd knew Eivor was right, and he knew he couldn’t afford to deviate from the path set out in front of him. The war with Kjotve was much bigger than either of them, and everyone’s safety was depending on this alliance.

“I... understand, Eivor.” He said quietly.

The younger man hung his head low, unable to ignore the guilt settling into his mind. “I’m sorry it has to be like this, Sigurd.”

“Don’t be. What you’re doing is noble. Not everyone would have your restraint.”

Eivor’s mood barely lightened at that. “It doesn’t feel noble. But I know it’s necessary.”

Sigurd nodded solemnly, unsure of what to say anymore. “...Indeed.”

Having had enough of this place, the older man took hold of the oar and stuck it into the water, eager to return to solid land.

“We should starting heading back.” He said abruptly, earning a tilt of the head from Eivor.

“Already? Are you sure? We haven’t even been out for that long.”

“I know, but I fear that my free time is rather limited today. An abundance of tasks awaits me in Bjornheimr, and I’m almost certain that my father will require my presence as well.”

Eivor peered at Sigurd with concern, clearly able to see that he had been affected by their conversation.

“Okay.” He agreed tentatively. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Come on, I’ll row you back to the village. Just sit back and relax.”

Guiding their boat away from the fjord, Sigurd steadily drove them back to the shoreline without uttering another word as Eivor sat quietly on his side, admittedly feeling somewhat remorseful for having dimmed the mood.

Initially, he had been excited to spend more time with the forlorn prince, but now, he wondered if he had made a mistake. It was no question that a special type of bond connected the two of them, and Eivor mentally scolded himself for allowing it to strengthen even further.

At this point, part of him was considering the idea of severing their relationship. It was difficult enough battling the constant temptation that he felt whenever he was with Sigurd, so Eivor thought that, perhaps, it might’ve been best if he simply eliminated the chance for it to show up again.

There would be no need to practice restraint if the prince avoided him altogether. They would be complete strangers just like before, and Eivor wouldn’t have to worry about clashing with his desires on a daily basis.

But... he knew he wouldn’t be able to do such a thing. He cared about Sigurd too much, despite only having known him for a week. That man housed something special within his heart, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to cast it aside.

Still, he didn’t know how he would proceed from here. Sigurd was aware of his admiration now, and any interactions between them would’ve bred nothing but awkwardness.

They both needed some time to get their thoughts in order, and frankly, Eivor was starting to feel grateful that the other man decided to make such a swift exit. He needed to be alone for a while, and it was evident that Sigurd also had plenty to think about himself.

It was one of those moments where Eivor felt the urge to seek out guidance, and he knew exactly who to get it from. 

He just worried that they would tell him precisely what he didn’t want to hear.

~~~~~~~~~~

BJORNHEIMR, THE DOCKS

“Here we are.” Sigurd announced, letting the boat drift towards the pier as he gazed into the distance. “...And it looks like Dag is waiting for me. Just like I expected.”

Eivor stood up from his seat. “What does he want from you?”

His friend put down the oar and climbed back onto the docks, taking their supplies with him. “Nothing. It’s my father who probably wants something. Dag is merely the messenger. I just hope it’s not what I think it is.”

Walking briskly ahead of the other man, Sigurd strode down the wooden pier and made a beeline straight for Dag as Eivor hurried to his side, abandoning the boat. 

A newfound irritation had worked its way into the prince’s usually serene demeanor, and the Wolf-Kissed wondered if he’d finally learn the reason behind Styrbjorn’s aforementioned absence at the war table.

“Dag,” the redhead called out in a firm tone. “What are you doing here?”

The bulky warrior removed himself from the tree he had been leaning on and approached Sigurd, appearing no more pleased than before.

“The king requests your presence at the longhouse.” He informed. “There’s a problem he needs your help with.”

Sigurd sighed in defeat, plopping the basket down in frustration. “Of course he does. Is it the same ‘problem’ as yesterday?”

Dag nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

The prince shook his head angrily. “That drink-addled fool...! He promised me this wouldn’t be an issue. What is he doing now?”

“He’s waiting for you in his chambers. Same as always. I suggest you hurry. He’s in a worse state than usual.”

Sigurd’s face stiffened with ire. “And it’s no one else’s fault but his. What is that man thinking?” He paused for a second, recomposing himself. “...Thank you for letting me know, Dag. Hopefully, we’ll never have to have this conversation again.”

The raider began strolling away from them, pessimistic about the idea. “Hopefully, but not likely.”

Removing himself from the scene, Dag disappeared once again while Eivor took his place, confused as to what just happened. It was quite obvious to him that Styrbjorn seemed to be at the core of this issue, but he hadn’t the faintest idea what the issue was exactly.

“What’s going on?” Eivor asked. “Is your father safe? Do you need any help?”

Sigurd quickly rejected the offer. “No, no. He’ll be fine. He’s just being an idiot. It’s best if I deal with this alone. Believe me.”

The younger man’s curiosity remained fervent, but he decided not to press anymore. The prince was evidently in a state of heightened exasperation at the moment, and Eivor suspected that any further questions would’ve only earned him more animosity.

“...Alright. If you say so. But don’t hesitate to ask for my aid if you need it.”

“Thank you, Eivor. I appreciate it.”

Forcing himself to relax, Sigurd rubbed his temple out of stress and turned to face Eivor, softening the jagged edge of his voice.

“Forgive me. I don’t mean to be so irate, but things are chaotic enough as it is, and my father is only making things worse. He’s ignoring all of his responsibilities, and piling them on my shoulders instead. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t affecting me.”

Something clicked in Eivor’s head. “So that’s why you’ve been so busy.”

“Yes. That, and a few other things. But those matters are irrelevant right now. The only important thing I have to say is... thank you. For taking the time to come with me today.”

“Of course, Sigurd. You need only ask.”

The older man beamed warmly. “...You truly are a blessing. You know that, Eivor? I genuinely believe you’re the only person I can fully rely on. You’re a man worthy of trust.” He placed his hands on his hips, returning to his usual temperament. “But I’ve idled for long enough. My father’s probably wondering where I am. Feel free to take all the fish we caught. You deserve it for putting up with me today.”

Eivor took the basket in hand, waving goodbye to Sigurd. “Farewell for now, my friend. Take care of yourself. And remember, I’m here if you need me.”

The prince started heading in the direction of the longhouse, returning the wave with one of his own. 

“The same goes to you. I may be busy, but my door’s always open, Wolf-Kissed. I only pray that our next meeting will be under better circumstances. Until then, stay safe. We all need you.”

[jihyuncompass]

Firsts

This was very self indulgent and I had way too much fun writing this, I hope you like it as much as I do. 

Mysme Week 2020 Day Three ( @mysmeweek2020 )

Firsts

Jumin Han x MC 

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: If seeing your boyfriend in your small apartment was strange, it was nothing like seeing your boyfriend in the convenience store.

“Jumin are you sure?” Your fiance sat opposite of you. Halfway through your dinner at Jumin’s home he had asked to see where you live. Despite the fact you had been dating for a few months and were already engaged he had never been to your apartment before. It had always been more comfortable to just spend time at his Penthouse, but now he seemed to be curious.

“Yes I’m sure.” He took a careful sip of wine. Jumin did almost everything that way, careful, methodical. Thought out specifically so he doesn’t make a single mistake in his actions. You looked down at your plate and then back at Jumin, who was still looking at you.

Taking courage you ask “But why? My place isn’t that special.” Jumin raised an eyebrow. Setting down his glass on the table his expression showed a sort of softness. Something he only showed you, seeing his warmth in his eyes your heart rate went up. 

“It’s special to me, because it’s your home. I want to see where it is you go when I’m not with you. I believe that the home is an extension of oneself, I want to see that part of you.” Just like his expression his voice had this fondness to it. Taking a deep breath in and watching him for just a little longer you gave in. 

“Alright, how about you come over tomorrow night? I could cook dinner for the two of us?” You suggested. Jumin, seeming pleased with the suggestion, reached his hand over the table to hold yours. His thumb running circles across your skin you held his hand, thinking about tomorrow. 

-----

Your apartment has never looked better, you’re convinced it’s cleaner than when you moved in. Every surface is scrubbed, washed, swept, mopped, and organized. Your heart beat out of your chest while you jumped around your tiny kitchen getting everything ready. After spending an hour looking at online recipes and an hour and a half around the grocery store to get everything you finally were able to get to cooking. There was no way you could ever compete with Jumin’s private chef but you were determined to do the very best you could for him. 

Looking over the recipe pages you had laid out in front of you, silently you went through all the ingredients one last time to make sure you had everything, mentally checking off every item. You had the meat, potatoes, vegetables, seasonings. Grinning to yourself you were proud that you hadn’t missed anything. 

Cooking was going well, you had decided that steak would be a good idea for dinner. You knew your fiance’s love of a good steak so you hoped it would be a good choice. Each element you made sure was prepared properly to make sure everything was as perfect as possible. 

That is until it came to making the mashed potatoes to have as a side, you realized after you finished cooking the potatoes that you didn’t have any milk to mix in. 

“How am I out of milk?” You loudly groaned to yourself. Running your hand through your head you looked at the clock on the stove. Jumin was going to be here any minute now and there was no way you would have the time to go to the store at this point. 

The sharp knock on the door made you jump. Your eyes went between the door and the fridge where the milk should be. You stepped away from the counter and went to the door. Standing in front of the door, and taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you smoothed out your clothes and got yourself ready. 

Jumin stood on the other side of the door, as usual he looked perfect. Likely coming straight from the office he was still wearing his work clothes. He greeted you with a little smile which you matched with a big one. 

“You look lovely today my dear.” He stepped forward to give a short chaste kiss. Your face blushed bright red like it did every time he kissed you. Stepping aside you motioned for him to come in. 

Watching Jumin Han step into your apartment was like a clashing of worlds. Witnessing your boyfriend, the future CEO of a massive corporation and one of the richest men in the country standing in your tiny one bedroom apartment felt completely off. He took in the apartment taking in everything in sight.  

Standing next to him you motioned around the apartment. “Would you like the tour?” Jumin nodded turning towards you.

“I would. I want to see everything.” Your face flushed a brighter red. Clapping your hands together you motioned to the living room right in front. “This is the living room, where I do most of the living.” You joked, letting him watch for a few moments you shifted on your feet to take him to the kitchen. 

“This is my kitchen. It’s pretty small but it gets the job done.” Jumin nodded, he looked at the food you were preparing on the counter. He stepped toward the counter to look at the ingredients you left there. “Oh I’m not done with dinner yet, so don’t mind this mess.” 

“It looks good.” Jumin said. “Are you cooking steak?” 

“Trying too.” You shrugged. “It probably isn’t going to be as good as you're used to but I know how much you like steak so I wanted to give it a try.” You rubbed your hands together while you watched him look over everything. 

“I have no doubts that it will be excellent.” He told you. “I’m looking forward to eating what you’ve prepared.” You smiled, some of the anxiety in your chest dissolving. 

“I’m excited for you to try it. Do you want to see the bedroom?” You saw the way his eyebrow raised at you, his expression changing. Rolling your eyes you added on. “God Jumin not like that.” He gave a short laugh that made you smile just the tiniest bit. 

Jumin stepped out of your way, his smile still present. “Show the way.” You walked past him, motioning for him to follow you.

Opening the door to your bedroom Jumin stepped in first to look around. Your bed took up most of the space in the room, which by comparison made Jumin look giant and a little out of place. He was quiet but you saw the smile that crossed his face when he noticed the photo of the two of you on the nightstand. 

“Your home is beautiful.” He said walking back to stand in front of you. 

“It’s okay.” You shrugged. “It’s no penthouse.” 

“No, but this place has you in it.” His hand brushed across your cheek, his fingers curling under your chin to bring you into a kiss. Slowly you leaned forward to put your arms around his neck. Feeling his lips pressed against yours still never failed in making you feel like you were on cloud nine. His free arm landed on your lower back to bring you chest to chest with him. He moved away from your lips to focus on your jaw, leaving short, soft kisses across your chin and moving up towards your ear. 

“Jumin-” You whispered. He stopped and pulled away, still holding you in his arms. 

“I apologize, I think I’m getting a little carried away. You’re just so intoxicating I can’t help but get excited.” Leaning forward you kissed his cheek. 

“We can get back to this a little later.” You suggested with a coy smile. “But let’s eat first.” Despite your desire to stay right there you moved out of his embrace to lead him back into the kitchen. At this point you remembered your milk dilemma. At this point you didn’t really have a choice. Looking back to Jumin you would have to confess your mistake. 

“So this is very embarrassing but just before you got here I realized I forgot an ingredient for dinner. I just need to run to the convenience store but it’ll only be a minute.” 

“If it would help I could call someone to pick it up for us?” Jumin offered. You raised your hands up while you shook your head. 

“There’s no need for that, there’s a convenience store at the end of the block that I can get it from. It’ll be ten minutes tops. I can just do it.” 

“Then allow me to join you, it wouldn’t be safe for you to walk alone at this time in the evening.” Jumin said walking towards the door. You caught up with him quickly stopping once you were right next to him. “Besides,” He continued. “I’ve never been to a convenience store before. Assistant- sorry, Jaehee often got her meals from them and I’ve always been curious about them.” You reached down to slip your shoes on as Jumin did the same. 

“Well then.” You said after grabbing your set of keys. “Let’s go.” 

----

If seeing your boyfriend in your small apartment was strange, it was nothing like seeing your boyfriend in the convenience store. He looked out of place with his tailored suit and striped shirt, being lit by the too-bright fluorescents. He looked around the small building with his usual observant look. Not saying much he followed you around to the back wall lined with cold drinks and ice cream. 

“This place seems to carry a large variety of items for such a small establishment.” Jumin noted. Pulling a gallon of milk out you shrugged. 

Holding the gallon up to your chest you faced him. “I mean it is a convenience store, it’s meant to have a little bit of everything.” You closed the door to the cooler while balancing the milk in your arm. “Okay, I’ve got what I needed, let’s check out and get back.” Heading back the same way you came moving through the thin aisles of the convenience store. 

Jumin followed close behind you, still keeping quiet as he took in everything. Shooting a glance back at him you saw him stop and stare at the snack and candy aisle. You turned on your heel cocking your head as you watched him. 

“I’ve never seen so many different varieties of candy in one place.” Looking at the dozens of different brands of sweets and junk food, an idea popped into your head. You stood in front of the aisle and set the gallon of milk down by your feet. 

“Have you ever tried any of these before?” Jumin looked over the varieties again. 

“No, I’ve seen some of these things before but I’ve never eaten any of them.” Reaching past him you grabbed a package of your favorite candy. Jumin looked over and noticed your expression. “Darling?” You shot him a wicked smile.

Waving towards the rest of the candy you told him your idea. “Grab whatever looks good to you, as much as you want.” A shocked expression crossed his features. He didn’t seem to quite understand what you were telling him. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, it’ll be fun.” He still hesitated, to encourage him you grabbed a chocolate bar off the shelf and handed it to him. “Go crazy Jumin. Whatever looks good to you.” 

After some encouragement the two of you ended up with your arms full of candy, the two of you had even moved onto the next aisle to grab some of the other savory snacks they had for sale. Once you reached the checkout counter the two of you could barely hold onto everything you’d chosen. The bored looking nineteen year old checker eyed you both strangely as he scanned all of the sweets and the gallon of milk. 

You carried the milk while Jumin carried the bag of snacks. You held Jumin’s free hand with yours, you couldn’t fight the silly smile that kept growing on your face. 

From then on dinner was smooth sailing, you managed to cook both the steaks to the medium rare that you both liked. The mashed potatoes were quickly finished after getting your last ingredient. You cooked the vegetables maybe slightly too long but in the grand scheme of things it didn’t really matter. While you cooked Jumin went through each one of the snacks you got, reading over each of the labels. 

----

“Alright.” You started. The two of you had finished your dinner not too long ago, and now you had set out all of the snacks on the dining table. You both thought it would be fun to review and rate each one. Jumin being the methodical businessman he was, had created a rubric for rating each one. Considerations would be taken for taste, texture, price, and memorability of each one. Each item would get a score from you and from him, and then one total score decided together between the two of you. He’d drawn out a record sheet on a few sheets of paper that was set in front of him. “Where should we start?” 

In total it took about two hours to finish your rating. After tasting each one and giving individual scores you both spent several minutes debating your combined score, arguing the best and worst qualities. Throughout the whole process you couldn't stop smiling, seeing just how seriously Jumin was taking all of this made it even better. You had seen him at work before, but this was different. Jumin wasn’t smiling but you could hear in his voice how excited he was. 

You leaned back against your chair, your hand resting on your stomach. “Okay, I’m glad we didn’t get anything else because I don’t think I can eat a single bite of anything else.” Leaning your head on Jumin’s shoulder you looked at the now filled record sheet. “So who’s the winner?” You asked him, he grabbed the original chocolate bar you had given him at the store. “Wow really?” Jumin pointed to its spot on the sheet. 

“Yes, this one ranked the best. It’s a simple chocolate bar but the quality is there. It’s sweet without being too much. It also is the best when considering the price.” You nodded against his shoulder. 

“This was fun.” You said, moving your head to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for humoring me.” 

“It was very enjoyable, I can’t say my nutritionist is going to be very pleased but I think it was worth it.” Jumin pushed aside the record sheet. Reaching for you, Jumin pulled you onto his lap. His hands resting on your hips you leaned into him. “Thank you for dinner my love.” 

“Thank you for coming over.” You kissed his temple, resting your forehead against his. “I love you Jumin.” You could practically feel Jumin’s smile. 

“I love you more.” He closed the gap between the two of you, this kiss was gentle and affectionate and left you with a warm feeling in your stomach. “Now, if I recall. We had something we wanted to come back to after we ate.” Jumin was giving you a dark look that he only gave you, his fingers drawing figure eights on your hip. 

You smiled and let out a little laugh. “Even after all that food you still have the energy?” 

“Is that a no then?” 

“No,” You leaned for a short teasing kiss. “Let’s get back to it.” 

[frenchie-sottises]

Skelebros Headcannons.

No one asked for these, but whatever. Also, there may be some triggers, so be aware. (It’s mainly trauma stuff.)

Also, this is like, super fucking long. I included quite a few versions.

Papyrus:

- Is over 7′9 without the boots. He’s 7′11 with them. - Smarter than he looks. (I might as well say that this is confirmed cause he apparently knows of Sans’s ability to prank people across time and space.) - Isn’t the best cook when it comes to dishes other than spaghetti, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn. Excellent baker though! - He didn’t jump out of the window because he forgot the door exists. It’s his way of being comedic. (And it worked.) - He loves Sans’s puns, but he only gets so salty because he feels like the timing could be better. - Almost burned down the house once when he tried to make spaghetti the way Undyne did it, so he learned to tone tf down. He only gets rambunctious when he cooks with Undyne cause, come on, it’s fun to go nuts every now and again. - Isn’t afraid to curse, but he doesn’t do it cause it’s rude.

Sans:

- Is over 5���2 and is literally big boned. (All the Sanses are, really.) - Doesn’t actually know that Papyrus loves his puns. - The jacket he wears is something he made, so this means he’s good at sewing. - He went outside without a shirt once, so when he made the joke about the cold going through him, he opened his jacket as the wind went through. He got sick like a dumbass hours later. - Speaking of dumbasses, he managed to get Papyrus to call him one for getting sick. He’s managed to get Papyrus to cuss also. (They still love each other dearly, don’t worry.) - He totally doesn’t have PTSD. Nope, not at all. It’s definitely not from the genocide routes and seeing his brother get killed multiple times. - Because of his trauma and not having the proper resources to help it, he suffers a form of CFS. (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.)

Edge:

- Is over 7′10 without the boots. Is 8′2 with them. - No one knows how he can wear heels in the snow. (He runs in them for crying out loud.) - Can be easily flustered when it comes to flirting, but when he’s in the mood to be saucy? Oh boy. - Is practically a professional chef and baker. Undyne’s lessons made him realize that he has to teach himself if he wants to provide decent meals. - Is rough with his brother, but he isn’t straight up mean. It’s more along the lines of him struggling to be kind and gentle out in public. - Half of his encounters usually don’t involve him doing anything. He’s just that intimidating. - People mostly know him for being loud and angry 24/7, but this isn’t always the case. He can control his volume when he needs to, and is actually pretty damn tame. It’s pretty rare to see him genuinely angry.

Red:

- Is the shortest Sans in this list standing at 5′0. - His sweating mostly comes from him trying not to piss off his brother despite the fact that said brother’s made it clear that he would never be angry at him. - He has PTSD, but due to the environment, his symptoms tend to be worse. - He’s resorted to cutting himself several times. His brother has no clue though. - Struggles with his moral code more than his brother. He’s torn between following his own path and suffering possible consequences from the king, and being loyal to the king at all costs to avoid his wrath. - His shoes are always untied, so it’s not uncommon to see him on the ground face down. - If given the chance to take his mind off of things, he will take it. Drugs are off-hands though. You can thank Edge for that.

Stretch:

- Is over 7′6 when he’s not slouching. - The cig’s gonna be lit, but he doesn’t smoke. He only does it cause it makes him look cool. - He actually doesn’t use any drugs, but he did get himself high one time via weed brownies for pure shits and giggles. Boy, was he high off his ass. - Unlike the classic Sans, his jokes have better timing. He’s made Blueberry laugh several times. - “I can make every dirty joke in existence... AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!” - Stretch at one point in time. - Has an endless supply of hoodies and it confuses his brother to this day. - He’s learned to give mercy while making you wish you were dead. (I may or may not have watched Rising of the Shield Hero.)

Blueberry:

- Is over 5′6 with the boots. Is only 5′5 without them. - Has a bod that screams the power to wrestle BEARS. - Someone teach him how to cook. He keeps overcooking the fucking TACO MEAT- - He has the body of a himbo, the personality of a himbo, and the mind of a himbo- okay, maybe the last one is a little inaccurate. He can be pretty smart. - May or may not be a bit of a perv. - His smile is so bright that it lightens up just about everyone’s moods. - Is a fantastic artist and no one can tell him otherwise.

Pup (Swapfell):

- Is over 7′3 when he’s not slouching. - Does actually smoke. - His blind eye was given from his brother playing far too rough. - He likes to rob people, but will learn to stop if the victim is shown to be far too powerful for him to handle. - Despite his not-so-welcomed attitude, when he’s put in a place where there is no threat of his brother, he can be quite friendly. - Has tried to feel people up in the past, but constantly keeps having his ass handed to him. - Makes only dirty jokes.

Blackberry (Swapfell):

- Is over 5′7 with the boots. Is only 5′4 without them. - Really needs his ass handed to him. - He can say he loves his brother all he wants. Doesn’t excuse why he treats him like shit. - He tends to poison his food when it comes to others. It could possibly contribute to why his brother steals other’s money. (And by “poison”, I mean he’s not a good cook. At all.) - Although he fights a lot, his body doesn’t quite match up to par, and he hates it. - Is easily jealous and possessive. - Surprisingly doesn’t actually swear when he swears.

Slim (Fellswap Red):

- Is over 7′3, and he doesn’t slouch. - Has the fluffiest jacket in existence and wears a lot of the bigger collars. - Is an absolute sweetheart when his brother’s not around. (More so than Red.) - Although he often drinks hot sauce, he’d rather prefer BBQ sauce. - Actually handles his PTSD better than his other lazy counterparts. - Has a bad habit of falling in love too easily. - Is very reserved and quiet for the most part.

Bloodberry (Fellswap Red):

- Is over 5′9 with the boots. Is only 5′6 without them. - Has a bad tendency to be saucy with someone he likes. - Is a decent cook when it comes down to it. - Also struggles with being kind in public. - Has taken a liking to archery. He’s even become good at it. - He hates the queen, but mainly because she’s always cruel to her subjects. He hopes to overthrow her for the betterment of the kingdom. - Unlike Blackberry, he does care for his brother.

Wine (Fellswap Gold):

- Is over 7′4, and he doesn’t slouch. - Since he mostly writes, he’s become a very good writer and artist. - Whenever he’s given a compliment, he sits in silence. He usually doesn’t receive them, so when he does, he kind of just.. breaks. - Like his blacklist, he has a list of names of those who have been extremely kind to him. - Tries not to become someone who has to depend on someone else. - He has days where the braces on his canines hurt like all hell, so he’ll wind up with tears in his eyes. - The constant oppression gets to him sometimes. He isn’t violent, but he will continuously cry and whimper.

Coffee (Fellswap Gold):

- Is over 6′0 with the boots. Is only 5′10 without them. - Wants to try and fix the kingdom so its people aren’t so oppressed. - Will be there for his brother within seconds. - Learned to be a decent cook for his brother. - The oppression gets to him also, but it’s mainly from the people. - A lot of the clothes he and his brother wear are from his own hands. - Has taught his brother some military fighting to protect himself as he is related to someone who the people hate.

Axe (Horrortale):

- Is the biggest Sans on this list standing at 6′7. - Is also the strongest in terms of physical strength. - Really needs to stop seeing human flesh and regular food as the same thing. - To those he cares for, he becomes almost like a guard dog but 10x scarier. - None of the Sanses and Papyruses aside from his own brother mess with him. - If someone is not scared of him for whatever reason, he has some respect for that. He just doesn’t really show it. - Gets easily spooked by really loud noises.

Everest (Horrortale):

- The tallest Papyrus standing at 9′2 with the boots. He’s only 9′0 without them. This also assumes he isn’t slouching, but he always is. - After being without food for so long, he struggles to not eat human flesh. - His kindness challenges classic Papyrus’s. - He hit a growth spurt far too early, and it’s why he’s slouching. (It’s kind of like he suffered Gigantism, but he stopped growing eventually.) - Compared to the other active counterparts, he’s the weakest. - Because of him being so thin, he tends to freeze far more easily. - When he’s pushed in a corner, he will fight back, but it’s best if his brother is with him.

And that ends that. I had these ideas going for a while, so I decided to spill them here. Hope y’all like these.

[kotosnoozy]

「witness me, old man」

chp 1 - recollections of dinners in eden

1st in a series of yuraven oneshots for my favourite aus, both canon to the tales series and of my own creation. ao3 link in the replies.

1. tales of asteria | recollections of eden 2. modern/coffee shop au 3. tales of the rays | 'it's new years! brave vesperia' event 4. schwann brigade yuri au 5. zestiria setting au 6. modern/band au. ao3 link in the replies.

Claw truly is a fantastic cook.

It’s rare, in honesty, that he gets a chance to taste his food. It’s an offer rarely made - only on those seldom occasions where he comes to seek Raven’s information-gathering expertise, and even then only when he deems his work to have gone above and beyond his expectations. He’s a harsh critic, for a man who clearly knows he wouldn’t personally be able to do the job, though the quality of his food is certainly worth the extra effort Raven has to put in to pass the grade.

He has to chase Norma away from the office on nights like these. At times, that feels harder than the information gathering he has to do to get to this point - she’s stubborn as a mule, and has a good nose for his lies. She doesn’t know about his… side-job, so to speak, and he has no intention of telling her any time soon if he can help it. She’d only nag for a free meal herself anyway, and there’s something special about these evenings he gets to spend with Claw, just the two of them. The addition of a spunky teenager would kill the vibe - even if the teenager in question is technically mature enough to be his business partner.

The only consistent method he’s found is to send her off to the next town over on some errand he swears that only she can handle, that he couldn’t possibly join her and get in the way of her work. Of course, it’s tricky to convince her that there’s anything she could do that he couldn’t - the bulk of their work is, after all, odd jobs and chores for the elderly, but if he bitches and whines enough (“Oh Norma , you know how my back gets, ancient as I am!”) then she’ll finally give in and head off with little fuss.

He gets to put the ol’ bad back excuse to good work when Claw arrives too - he couldn’t possibly help out in the kitchen, he’s so old and slow that he’ll only get in the way, or else mess up the recipe.

Claw, unsurprisingly, is far more skeptical of his tall tales than Norma. But for whatever reason, he’s never once complained at Raven sitting on his lazy ass and watching instead of helping. If anything, he almost seems a little happy about it.

After he does his little dance around the kitchen - finely dicing onions with nary a tear, pulverising potatoes efficiently, mixing it all together with a meat Raven’s tastebuds can never quite place, and frying the little balls of the concoction after coating them in breadcrumbs - there’s a plate of perfectly crisp croquettes placed in the middle of the table. It feels almost criminal to allow them to sit in the same spot that they usually just throw cheap takeout and sloppily-made sandwiches, mouth-wateringly good as they look.

“I really don’t know how ya do it, Cap’n.” he says, polishing off his first and skewering a second with his fork. “Makin’ something as tasty as this with just a couple of ingredients… Y’ ever think ya might be in the wrong line of work?”

Claw snorts in amusement, simply resting his head in his hand with a roll of his eyes.

It’s always like this. He’ll cook enough for both of them (or maybe three, or even four people - Raven can’t deny that he’s a real glutton when it comes to Claw’s cooking), but never eats himself. He simply watches Raven from over his collar, expression indecipherable from just his eyes alone. If it wasn’t something of a routine by now, then he’s sure he’d find the constant dark-eyed gaze unnerving, to say the least.

Instead he just feels guilty - it feels unfair to be the only one eating.

“...why is it that ya never eat yerself while yer here?” he asks tentatively. He really can’t imagine such a high ranking member of Her Highness’s guard suffering from eating-related stage fright, but it certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’s ever heard of.

Claw quirks an eyebrow.

“You know as well as I do that Her Excellency forbids my face to be seen.”

Ah.

How did he let that slip his mind?

“That must be a hell of a pain when you’re on the road with your platoon, huh.” he quips instead to cover his lapse in memory.

There’s a slight change to Claw’s breathing that he doubts he’d notice if he wasn’t so good at his job - the tiniest of sighs. He remains otherwise silent.

G r o o o o w l

...Although the same cannot be said for his stomach, it seems, as it heartily voices its protests. Raven simply cannot stop the wide grin that rises to his face.

Claw’s eyes narrow, no doubt already anticipating what will come next.

“C’mon, Cap’n, you should try some yerself!”

He scoffs.

“It’s fine. I’ll just eat whatever’s leftover when I get back to the barracks later.”

“You know as well as I do that’s a hell of a waste - why let it go cold when you could just eat it right here and now?”

Claw’s gaze narrows further.

“Raven…” he drawls, warningly.

“C’monnnn, it’ll be our little secret! I promise, I won’t tell a soul!” he says, leaning over the table to wave a skewered croquette in his face. Claw’s eyes tick back and forth like a metronome as he watches the morsel, and he thinks he’s almost got him- and then he furrows his brows, eyes clenched shut like a baby rejecting a snack it doesn’t like the look of.

Raven sighs.

“Spoilsport. No one would’ve ever needed to know,” he whines. “‘m just thinkin’ about yer health, Cap’n. Nothin’ more, I swear.”

It happens as he goes to sit up straight - quick as lightning.

He snatches the hand Raven’s waving in front of his face, like a cat pouncing its prey, and hooks a finger over his high, wide collar. Scoops the bite Raven had thought was now destined for him into his own mouth. Replaces the collar as quickly as it left.

It’s maybe 3 seconds at the most. An absolutely miniscule amount of time. But more than enough for a man in Raven’s line of work to get a good look at his permanently-obscured face.

To take in his delicate features - nose long and beak-like, but cheeks far more rounded than he’d expected, pink lips thin yet surprisingly plump, a proud chin despite his round jaw - to be absolutely enraptured by how beautiful he is.

‘Do they hafta keep their faces covered,’ he wonders idly, ‘because they’re all this distractingly beautiful? Or is Claw just a special case?’

He can’t break his eyes away, even after Claw finishes his mouthful, looks up at him expectantly, once more quirks an eyebrow in confusion. His heart is pounding , stirring in a way that feels almost like nostalgia for some reason. He’s hot and cold all at once, cheeks burning but blood like ice, and he longs to reach out and touch him, pull the collar down for a better look, truly commit his face to memory. But then there’s a pain in his heart like a knife, pure grief , and it twists, makes him feel sick to the stomach, and his brain is fuzzy, he doesn’t understand-

“What’re you staring at, old man?”

It feels like being clocked around the head. He scrambles up straight, trying to put as much space between them as he can even as he yearns to be closer.

“Nothing! Nothing at all!”

Claw’s eyebrow climbs ever higher. Raven scrambles for something to say - whatever that was is definitely something to unpack later , if ever at all.

“Anyway, my darlin’ Claw,”

(‘Wait, darlin’??? Where the hell did that come from???’)

“How does it feel to get a taste of yer own food pipin’ hot for once?”

He swears he can see a gentle flush of red to his cheekbones where they peek above the collar.

“...I guess it’s better than when it’s cold.” he mumbles, gaze never meeting Raven’s.

He smiles, satisfied, and does his best to squash down the rest of that strange sensation as he tucks back into his meal.

Later, when Claw is gone and he’s alone with his thoughts, he’ll make a decision. That next time Claw cooks for him, he’ll persuade him to remove the collar again. And maybe he’ll figure out exactly what the lurching of his heart means. Who knows? He might even cook for Claw for a change.

(Something tells him he’s got a sweet tooth. Maybe he likes crepes?)

Little does he know that though certainly, he will receive the offer of Claw’s cooking in exchange for hard work at least once more, never again will he have the opportunity to actually sample it.

((it’s that night that the dreams start))

[minmotl]

Chapter 46: Tang Fan Spends His First New Year with Sui Zhou and Ah Dong

Context: Nothing much really happens between Chapter 44 and 46, except that Tang Fan’s teacher disagrees with the Emperor on a particular topic and is sort of demoted/sent away to some faraway province. Tang Fan and Pan Bin are not sure how to advice their teacher on this - on one hand, they know that their teacher is stubborn and has his reasons for his views, but Tang Fan, despite knowing how his teacher is, tries to persuade him to make peace with the Emperor and his teacher gets angry. He tells Sui Zhou of his dilemma, but they also agree there isn’t much that can be done and Tang Fan sends their teacher off with the rest of the students. 

This chapter doesn’t have much link to Chapter 45. We begin with the imminent Lunar New Year and how the Tang and Sui family prepare for it. Sui Zhou turns up at the end, and it’s more of Tang Fan and Ah Dong in this, but it was cute and I thought I’d translate it anyway.

Introduction Post | Masterpost

—

Highlights under the cut

Tang Fan cannot remember how long it has been since he got to spend the New Year properly and fully. His parents died early and after his sister married far away, the importance he placed on such a holiday decreased. Being an official all by himself in Jing city, he has spent the holiday in increasingly colder and lonelier fashion. He is already used to staying in his house alone, relaxing as he reads his fiction novels and keeping warm by the fire.

However, even though it is already a habit for him, in reality, when Ah Dong gleefully and very obviously begins to hang up chun lian and eating fruits, the memories that have long been hidden somewhere deep in his mind resurfaces.

Even though Ah Dong is still young, she is after all a young lady and knows how to dress up with her clever hands. She is much more meticulous and can think of a greater number of things, so she’s responsible for everything inside and outside of the house. Aside from putting up chun lian, men like Tang Fan and Sui Zhou will never think of hanging up some red lanterns at the corridors to increase the festive spirit, for example.

Closer to the end of the year, the affairs that Shun Tian Prefecture has to deal with has also gradually lessened, but the Northern Administrative Court on the other hand, is only getting busier. Sui Zhou leaves the house early and returns late every day, so only Tang Fan is able to go home early to help out.

However, he is obviously not the type to excel at housework. He can even lose the cloth he’s using while he’s wiping at things and Ah Dong pushes him outside, looking down on him, “Da-ge, don’t make things even messier than they are. Go and write a pair of chun lian, and don’t forget to write the word for ‘prosperity’. Every house has to have one!”

Tang Fan laughs, “I’ve already written them and stuck them all up. Even my sister isn’t as naggy as you are!”

He ends up leaning against the pillar and watches as Ah Dong busies herself, scrambling about. His heart is all warm, “How about I boil some water for you? Or wipe the pillars? The pillars are so tall and you can’t reach them, I have to end up doing it, no?”

Ah Dong is currently wiping at a chair and once again, she rolls her eyes in detestation, “As long as you don’t end up losing my cloth somehow later, I’ll be thanking the heavens already!”

Tang Fan doesn’t get angry and is instead rather delighted at this.

“Didn’t we end up finding it? Besides, Ah Dong, why do I feel like you’ve become much more hardworking recently? You haven’t been eating as enthusiastically anymore too, are you trying to help me save on provisions and food?”

Ah Dong sticks out her tongue at him, “That’s not it. Sui-dage chided me the other day.”

Alarmed, Tang Fan asks, “What did he say? Why don’t I know about this?”

Ah Dong snickers, “It’s not much really. He said you work very hard at the courts and reminded me not to just think about going out to play and end up neglecting you.”

Tang Fan did not expect Sui Zhou to still remember this. He has obviously taken the incident when Tang Fan sat at the back door, sitting there as the cold winds blew and ended up ill, to heart, and that is why he went to speak to Ah Dong secretly.

He also knows that Ah Dong didn’t stop cooking for him because she was playful, but because during that time he was so busy that he ended up collapsing in bed immediately the moment he got home. Every time Ah Dong cooked, he ended up eating outside and not eating when he came home, and the food was wasted. This happened a few times and Ah Dong didn’t know when he was going to come home for dinner. Hence, she stopped cooking, but now that they’ve moved past those days without any routine, everything has returned to normal.

Hearing Ah Dong say that, Tang Fan feels a little sheepish because Little Ah Dong has turned into a scapegoat for this incident, “I’ll speak to your Sui-dage some other day.”

“You don’t have to!” Ah Dong continues to grin, “I know that Sui-dage treats me as his little sister and that’s why he scolded me. If I was someone who didn’t matter to him, he wouldn’t even bother to say so much! I may be young, but I know who is truly good to me. Like previously, the old lady from the Li family, Ah Chun-jiejie and the rest, everyone who has been good to me, I remember them all!”

Tang Fan teases, “So who’s not good to you?”

Ah Dong shakes her head, “I forgot! I was sold to the Li family as a slave previously, and the sellers were not good to me, but I can’t even remember how they look like now. Da-ge, didn’t you say, we should remember blessings and forget grudges, that way we can be happy everyday!”

“That’s right! Aiyo, as your da-ge I am very happy that you remember every word that I’ve said. Seeing that you’re so heartless, I thought you only think of food everyday,” he laughs.

Rolling her eyes again, Ah Dong says, “Eating is our priority, and everything else is secondary to that, this is also something that you taught me.”

Tang Fan rolls his eyes at the retort, “Since when did I teach you something like this, wouldn’t you be a rice bucket already if I did?”

“Yes, you are!” Ah Dong snorts.

***

The people work hard every year as they busy themselves, all so they can reunite at home and peacefully sit down for a good reunion dinner. If they can have an additional plate of fish and meat on the table, then that is the greatest reward they have earned this year.

In a small three-sectioned house in the north of the city, there is the addition of Ah Dong this year and Tang Fan no longer needs to spend the new year alone.

Although Sui Zhou has moved out, his parents are still around and naturally, he has to go home for reunion dinner as well. He did invite Tang Fan and Ah Dong to accompany him to the dinner, but Tang Fan refused, saying that he and Ah Dong have not spent the new year together yet and this year is their very first year, so as siblings they need to spend time with each other properly.

Since he said that, Sui Zhou of course did not press and headed back to the Sui family home for dinner, while Tang Fan and Ah Dong stayed behind to get through the new year together.

Initially when Tang Fan adopted Ah Dong as his younger sister, he did so at Ah Dong’s behest, because Tang Fan could not bear to see her get sold to another family. She is a fine young lady that was forced to become a slave, and so Tang Fan destroyed her slave contract, returning her freedom to her, then adopting her, so that this young lady could have someone to depend on in the future.

Of course, if Ah Dong’s personality was terrible or if she was unable to get along with him, Tang Fan would have simply returned her slave contract to her, or found another family to settle her in. He never would have let her stay at his side, so at the end of the day, this is still considered affinity between them.

And yet, since having Ah Dong around, Tang Fan really does not need to do anything anymore. Even for their reunion dinner, because he wanted to help cut vegetables but ended up making a whole mess, he was chased out of the kitchen while Ah Dong mocked him for being born with a silver spoon in his mouth. 

Tang-daren could only stand at the side and help to bring her bowls and ingredients. He is after all a judge, one who has firmly argued with the Western Depot’s chief and managed to hold his own facing him, but today, he is being ordered around by this young little girl. However, his heart is warm, feeling a sense of gleefulness at this.

Once the skies have completely darkened, the ba xian table is already filled with dishes.

***

The two siblings chat happily with each other and after their dinner, they start clearing away the bowls and chopsticks and begin the custom of getting through the night to the new year.

Most people sleep early at night but there are exceptions as well. On the night of new year’s eve, both the old and young in the family have to stay up till midnight. This is a custom that has been passed on from olden times, and it has remained unchanged until today. The night is long, and the children can play with sparklers, while the adults have to think about more activities to pass the time.

There is only Tang Fan and Ah Dong in the house, and it is such a wonderful new year’s eve night, so Tang Fan does not want to read his fiction novels to pass the time either. The both of them end up looking for some games to play.

Forgetting about playing Chinese chess — aside from the fact that Ah Dong is still young and doesn’t understand the game, even if she does, she would have only just grasped the basics. The skill difference between them both is too huge and even if they did play, it wouldn’t be any fun, so Tang Fan finds a vase and some bamboo sticks. 

The both of them start to play toss and betting on who can get their more sticks to go into the vase. Five throws a round and whoever wins two out of three rounds is considered the winner. The loser will have to stand at the door and bark like a dog.

Tang Fan still has a childlike heart despite his age, and he excitedly begins to play the game with Ah Dong.

After one round however, he realizes something is amiss and asks, “Why are you so accurate with your throws, were you naturally gifted like this?”

Ah Dong is confused, “What is that? I didn’t eat that!”

Tang Fan says, “I think we can increase your daily studying tasks. What I meant is, were you naturally so good at tossing?”

“Not at all, it’s only after I troubled Sui-dage to teach me martial arts and he passed me a small bow. He asked me to shoot at leaves everyday, and whenever I can hit one I pass.”

“Then have you managed to hit any leaves yet?”

“I did, but out of ten tries I only manage to hit two, and it was because I got lucky,” she says, embarrassed.

“… I feel like I’ve made a mistake the moment I suggested tossing with you.”

Ah Dong’s eyes go wide, “Da-ge, are you trying to get out of this?”

Helplessly, Tang Fan says, “I’m not, but can we have a discussion about this, how about doing away with the bet?”

Ah Dong seems very dim at times, but when it counts, she is still rather crafty and so she replies, “No. Da-ge you said before, as a person we have to make our words count, and a promise is worth a thousand taels of gold!”

Tang Fan pats at her head, huffing in annoyance, “I don’t see you being so smart when you study, but you’re now reciting idioms! These three rounds have not yet ended, it’s difficult to say who will end up the winner or loser!”

His competitive spirit has been ignited, but physical deftness is also something considered a natural gift and is hardly something that can be had just because Tang-daren is trying his best at it now. His struggles are futile, and after the round ends he still loses. Two out of three wins, this is a rule he set, and now he’s paying for it.

Ah Dong laughs out loud, “Da-ge, those that are willing to take a gamble must bear the consequences of losing!”

Tang Fan is not willing to be looked down on by this little girl, and he thinks, there is no one outside right now on the night of new year’s eve, so what if he opens the door and barks twice? Even if other people hear him they would think some other house’s dog is barking, and so he says, “I am naturally willing to bear the consequences of losing. Your da-ge’s words count, since when have I reneged on my words? You must really learn these virtues of mine!”

Ah Dong makes a funny face at him praising himself, and follows quickly behind him to be entertained by Tang Fan making a fool out of himself.

Tang Fan opens the door and outside the door hangs two red lanterns. Their surroundings are illuminated slightly, the very picture of happiness and prosperity.

Steeling his resolve, he immediately barks, “Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Before he barks for the last time, someone appears before him, nearly scaring Tang-daren to death.

Looking closely, Tang Fan realizes that it’s Sui Zhou.

Tang Fan, “…”

Sui Zhou, “…”

Tang-daren feels like he has lost all his face.

He complains first, “Why are you here, not even a single sound of your footsteps!”

Helpless, Sui Zhou responds, “I have always walked without much noise, what are you doing barking at the door?”

Behind them, Ah Dong’s laughter echoes and Tang Fan’s face goes red, “He made a bet and lost!”

Sui Zhou nods and goes ‘oh’, “What were you playing?”

“Tossing,” Tang Fan replies, and then it dawns on him, “What are you doing back so early? Aren’t you staying the night over there?”

The both of them walk inside the house, one in front of the other as Sui Zhou says, “No, I’m not.”

He does not elaborate but with Tang Fan’s intelligence, he knows that surely some conflict has arisen at home and so Sui Zhou decided to come back after dinner. Without asking any more questions, he smiles, “It’s an opportune time for you to be back. It’s only interesting to play chess with three people, if I play with only Ah Dong, I cannot do it because it’s too easy to win!”

Ah Dong sticks out her tongue at him again, “That’s right, that’s why you chose tossing, the most difficult game, and you ended up losing anyway!”

“You!” Tang Fan schools his expression into an angry one and raises his hand, pretending to hit her and the young lady only giggles before running off, “We have to stay up tonight, I’ll go boil some water and make tea for you both!”

Seeing the both of them make such a ruckus, a hint of a smile emerges on Sui Zhou’s face and he thinks, it is good that he came back. Without saying anything, just looking at them like this, he feels happy.

If this is the first interesting new year Tang Fan has experienced since his family was broken, then it is the same for Sui Zhou and Ah Dong. The three of them have different experiences in life, but have gathered together due to fate.

It is said that they have to cultivate ten years worth of fate to be able to experience life on the same boat. For them to have ended up under the same roof together, they must have at least cultivated fifty years worth of fate or more.

The three of them start with chess and with the addition of Sui Zhou, everything becomes slightly more interesting. Everyone is relaxed and Tang Fan does not go in for the kill, so they take their turns to lose and win. Amidst the chatter and laughter, time passes quickly.

Midnight nears and the sound of firecrackers from both near and afar going off becomes more frequent. Firecrackers are lit not only to welcome the new year, but to also do away with the old, so many families will not only light the firecrackers after midnight, but will also light up another round before midnight to symbolize erasing the old and bringing in the new, welcoming a fresh start for everyone.

Tang Fan and the rest of them have also bought firecrackers. Sui Zhou goes out to light some up and Ah Dong lights up sparklers in the courtyard. The loud popping of the firecrackers echo in the alley, the sound ringing in their ears at intervals. Coupled with the vibrant sparklers, the entire courtyard is awash in light temporarily. Ah Dong laughs, shouts and claps, and even though there is only the three of them, the atmosphere created is both jubilant and lively.

Setting down the firecrackers and the sparklers, Ah Dong runs into the kitchen to cook some dumplings.

The dumplings have already been made, filled randomly with white cabbage, minced pork meat and prawns. The white and tender dumplings bobble up and down in the boiling water. She scoops them all up and plates them. Sui Zhou takes a brief glance and is stunned speechless.

There are prettily made, high quality dumplings in the plate, but there are also flawed ones that have been made in odd shapes. Some of the skin on the flawed ones, once put in boiling water, are torn, the filling inside exposed, and it is truly hard to look at.

Tang-daren is truly very thick-skinned as well, as he laughs, “Haha, it must be that the fillings want to see who are the people eating them, and so they could not wait to come out!”

Sui Zhou and Ah Dong turn to stare at him, and even without saying a word, their gazes both say: Shameless!

Tang-daren pretends not to see their looks and picks one up, dipping it in vinegar before putting it in his mouth. He does not forget to praise his own work, “It’s really delicious! You can see how skilled the person who made the dumplings is. You guys should eat too! What are you looking at me for? Come, come!”

Tang Fan has certainly reached a new realm and level of being thick-skinned.

The other two have nothing else to say and all they can do is bury their heads and start eating.

Suddenly, Ah Dong goes ‘aiya’ and spits out a coin from her mouth.

Tang Fan laughs, “You’ve struck fortune! You’ll have good luck in the coming year!”

Ah Dong is rather happy, and buzzing with joy, she wipes the coin clean and places it on the table.

After a while, Sui Zhou also bites on a coin. Tang Fan and Ah Dong repeat the same congratulatory words to him.

After a moment, Tang Fan himself also manages to hit one.

This repeats a few times.

Finally, Ah Dong is mad and disparages, “Da-ge, exactly how many did you put in there?”

There are thirty-odd dumplings in a plate and subtracting the flawed ones from the mix, the three of them have found a total of almost thirteen coins. Putting these coins in the dumplings are typically used to find some sign of good fortune in the coming year, but look at them now, every once in a while they are hurting their teeth on a coin like this.

Tang Fan and Sui Zhou are paying a little more attention, so it is not as bad for them, but Ah Dong almost shattered all her teeth on one and begins to groan and moan pitifully.

The heartless Tang-daren laughs at her misfortune seeing her like this, “I didn’t get to eat that many coins when I was young, so I’ve put more this time in case we don’t get to eat any, who asked you to bite so hard?”

Ah Dong is unwilling to show any sign of weakness and the two of them start fighting again, until Sui Zhou returns from clearing away the bowls and chopsticks. The young lady is finally drowsy. She rubs at her eyes, but the expression on her face shows that she has never been more content in her life.

“Da-ge, do you think we can still spend new year like this again in the years after this?” Ah Dong lies against Tang Fan as she sits, waiting determinedly for midnight to befall them.

“What do you think, Guang Chuan?” Tang Fan caresses at her head, looking up to ask Sui Zhou, who has just walked through the door.

“Mnn,” Sui-baihu agrees, his answer short but affirmative.

===

Notes:

*春联 chun lian

Lunar new year couplets! Often written on red paper during the new year and comes in pairs. The words written usually have to do with fortune, prosperity, luck and riches and are written either in typical black ink or in gold ink nowadays, since gold ink was made available.

*八仙桌 ba xian zhuo

Considered a traditional Chinese furniture, it is a square table that sits two people on each side, totalling eight people just like the eight (ba) deities (xian), which is why the table has been named as such.

*守夜 shou ye

We still practise this today - it is said that the later younger members of the family stay up, the more fortune they are accumulating for the elders of the family (for example, for their longevity and good health). A lot of people stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing mahjong and what not on the eve of Lunar New Year. Of course, this is not really strict, and most people do go to bed after midnight.

*天赋异禀 vs 天赋异饼 tian fu yi bing

Both four-character words are pronounced as tian fu yi bing, with the first being the more commonly written phrase, meaning someone who is naturally and generously gifted with skills etc. The last character 禀 bing was misheard and misinterpreted by Ah Dong, who thought the 饼 bing was referring to the character than meant ‘pastry’ or ‘biscuit’, and that is why Ah Dong thinks that Tang Fan is asking if she ate some kind of pastry when he asks if she has always been gifted with tossing accuracy in the game.

*丢脸 diu lian

In Chinese culture, being embarrassed or humiliated is described as losing face. There is nothing more important than having and keeping face for the Chinese XD

*脸皮厚 lian pi hou

Thick-skinned, to describe someone without any shame.

[jadekitty777]

Baker’s Dozen, Part 1

Oh my god we are at the home stretch and I am still amazed I managed to do all eight days. This is a two-parter, so the second chapter will be up tomorrow.

Day 7: First Morning @taiqrowweek

Rating: K

Words: 6,000

Summary: When a desperate escape from fans leaves Qrow seeking shelter in a nearby restaurant, he expects little of the rundown, failing business that offers him a table. One bite is all it takes to change his mind. [Actor and Chef AU]

Ao3 Link: Baker’s Dozen

~

Early Saturday afternoon found downtown L.A. bustling with traffic on the sidewalks and the road. Qrow found himself in the heart of Pershing Square, lying on the grass and enjoying the midday sun beaming down on him, wondering why he didn’t do this more often.

“Oh my god! Qrow Branwen?!”

His eyes shot open, seeing a small gaggle of women hurrying his way as every head within earshot turned to look right at him.

Oh right.

That was why.

He shot to his feet, yelling over his shoulder as he sprinted away, “Sorry! No autographs today!”

He thanked whatever gods might be out there that his last role forced him to stay in excellent shape, because he was easily able to outdistance his pursuers. Unfortunately, as he skirted around the foot traffic, their yells only seemed to be attracting more attention his way. He ever spotted one desperate teenager pulling a phone from her purse.

He was about to be all over Instagram, wasn’t he?

Knowing this called for every actor’s Superman disguise, Qrow pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, shoving them onto his face as he took the first alleyway he could find. Coming out on the other side, he slowed his pace to a fast walk, lowering his head to avoid further detection and slipped into the doorway of one of the businesses a few doors down before the other crowd could catch up.

He sighed, grateful for the dark atmosphere inside the building as he pulled out his phone. Alright, time to call his driver and get out of dodge.

“Table for one?” The question had him jerking around, seeing a young woman in a cowboy getup smiling his way from a little podium. Her golden hair was particularly eye catching, long and untamed in a way that reminded him of his twin sister’s. Her name tag, which was in the shape of a star, read ‘Yang’.

He took in the environment around her, noticing the array of booths and tables that made up the majority of the room, and realized he’d ducked right into a restaurant. “Uh, no sorry I uh-” He started to say, only to trail off as he actually considered it. Why the hell not? It wasn’t like he’d eaten, and it would take his driver about the same time to get there when having to slog through the weekend traffic. “I mean, yeah, just me. Can I get a booth as isolated as possible?”

“You got it!” Yang agreed, picking up one of the menus and leading him to a booth in the back. He couldn’t help but notice she even had spurs on her boots that clanked when she walked. The walls were decorated with a similar Texan flair, bull horns and deer antlers interspaced with paintings of farm homes and woodland creatures and metal lone stars. How quaint.

Despite the aesthetics though, it was obvious from the minute he sat down and the bench creaked loudly, that upkeep wasn’t a priority. Or, he reassessed as he took note of the lack of patrons despite it being the lunch hour, it probably just wasn’t in the budget. That probably wasn’t a promising sign on the quality for his upcoming meal.

“Ruby will be with you soon.” Yang said, setting the menu before him. The cover had the name ‘The Dragon’s Den’ proudly printed across it. Wait, that wasn’t southern. Did he somehow run all the way to Chinatown instead?

“Uh, thanks.” He flipped the menu, but with the lighting so low, he couldn’t read the finer script. He pulled off his sunglasses, setting them on the table before looking through his options. Despite the slightly confused name, everything within seemed pretty par for the course; roast beef, fried chicken, catfish, and a large array of barbequed meats that any Tramp off the street would gladly steal for his Lady.

“Howdy there, can I get you started w- Oh my god!”

Ah, shit.

He looked up, seeing yet another starstruck gaze aimed at him by a petite girl in a similar get up to the hostess but was a few years younger – was she even old enough to work here?

He held up his hand in a desperate attempt to ward off any screaming. “Kid, I swear to give you the best tip of your life if you keep quiet.”

His waitress pressed her notepad against her mouth, a muffled squeak escaping around it. After a moment, she took a breath, then lowered the notepad slightly to reveal a sly smile. “I’ll make sure Yang seats any customers far away from you if you promise me an autograph and a picture too.”

He snorted. What a devious little brat! He could appreciate that. “Deal.”

“Hehe, yes!” She gave a little hop before quickly composing herself, placing her pen to the page. “Alright stranger that I’ve never met and do not know the name of, what would you like to drink?”

“Don’t oversell it kid. And water’s fine.”

“Coming right up!” She scurried away. He watched her detour towards the front, dragging the blond woman to the back where they disappeared behind a set of swinging double doors.

He counted down from five in his head.

“EEEEEEEEEEEE!” Came two screams from the kitchen.

Right on cue.

“OUT! BOTH OF YOU, OUT!!” Was the next shout he heard, the tone definitely masculine.

Yang came back out first, her gaze lingering his way before she hurried away, giggling all the while. Ruby was next, setting a glass of water on his table along with a straw.

“Your drink, mon-sir.”

He laughed. “Did you mean monsieur?”

“Yeah, that one!” She giggled good-naturedly. Despite the fact she was an obvious fangirl, he found himself taking a liking to her.

“Heard a bit of yelling back there.” He gestured towards the doorway.

“Yeah, dad just thinks we’re being dumb. He doesn’t believe you’re out here.”

Dad? Well, that might explain why it seemed this rustic establishment was getting away with breaking child labor laws. “Eh, it’s probably better that way anyways.” Kids were cute; but adults fawning over him was always a little weird, especially if they were around his age.

“He wouldn’t know how to appreciate the moment anyways.”  Ruby clacked her heels together, spurs chiming when she did. “So were you ready to order or did you want a few minutes?”

He glanced down towards the menu. He wasn’t really used to food like this. Growing up, his dad would favor getting the rice cooker going rather than tend to the BBQ gathering dust outside. As for now, his career tended to call for strict dietery needs depending on what shape he needed to be in for each role – none of which ever called for anything steeped so heavily in grease and fat. “Any suggestions?”

“Ooo,” She tapped her chin with her pen thoughtfully. “Well dad just took out the kolaches a half hour ago, so those are extra good right now.”

The question was out of his mouth before he could think to fake it, “What’s a kolach?”

“Oh, it’s a Texas thing. Basically, it’s a pasty with filling. Today’s strawberry, which is my favorite.”

“Trying to sell me dessert before the main course?”

“Well yeah! That’s like the highlight of being an adult, right? When I move out, that’s how I’m gonna do it.” Ruby said proudly. “But if you want to be all traditional about it, then by far dad’s best dish is the country-fried steak.”

He knew what that dish was at least. Steak fried in batter and slathered in gravy. It sounded like a heart attack on a plate. He closed the menu decisively, handing it to her. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Great!” She quickly wrote it down.

As the girl hurried over to go place his order, Qrow took the opportunity to look up the address and text it to An. ‘Pick me up in forty-five?’

‘Certainly sir.’ She replied.

He had just switched back to his browser, when Ruby came back, setting a small plate in front of him. The Kolach was about the size of a cookie, with a breading cooked to a nice golden brown and the bright red strawberry filling dusted over with powdered sugar.

“Here you go! The best dessert you’ll ever have.” She proclaimed.

It certainly looked good, but it wouldn’t have anything on his mother’s Ichigo Daifuku. “Maybe second greatest kiddo.”

Ruby looked about ready to defend her dessert’s honor when a call of ‘waiter’ had her drawing back. “Um, gotta go. Enjoy!”

Picking up the pastry, Qrow turned his attention back to his phone. He eyed the 2.9 rating the restaurant had on Yelp, his stomach turning with trepidation as he took his first bite. The outer crust had a nice crunch but the inner dough was fluffy and light, with a hint of butter. The sweetness also hit with less punch than he was expecting, the strawberry standing mostly on its own with only the sugar on top adding to it. Just the way he liked it.

He was right, it didn’t out beat the Daifuku… but it was pretty close.

As he polished it off, he pulled up the reviews, scanning through them.

‘Great food but the decor is just awful. Pretty sure the place hasn’t had an upgrade since the 70s.’

‘Nice staff but everyone looks like they should be operating out of a western drama.’

‘Terrible! The kid waiting on me didn’t even look fifteen. She was super clumsy too. Dropped a whole cup of BBQ right on my sweater. When I demanded to speak to the owner about it, the hostess gave me attitude about how he was too busy and called ME a blowhard! What a circus show! Never coming back!’

‘The food’s amazing, but the wait times are ridiculous. Forty-five minutes for a rack of ribs? Is there only one cook back there?’

And on they went. Complaints about the location, the confusing name, more on wait time and the staff. But, beyond a few issues on the food arriving too cold, there was nothing but stellar compliments for the taste. He lent back in his seat, hearing it give another dying groan. He watched Yang sit another table of five while Ruby bustled about to get their drinks. Eyed his crumb-dusted plate, realizing the treat was probably offered to him because someone hungry was more likely to notice the wait for the main course. What a sad state. Apparently great food but poor management and lack of funds to fix anything. The place probably wasn’t going to last another year.

Ruby was all smiles when she came back to him, clearing his dish. “So, did you like it?”

“It was excellent, just like you promised.” Qrow told her honestly. For a split second, he almost let that be the end of it all. To just have his meal and leave, forgetting all about the reviews that foreshadowed the Dragon Den’s closure and the innocent kid whose family would be facing thousands of dollars in debt.

Instead he found himself strangely invested. Perhaps it was just human curiosity or pure boredom, but whatever it was, something made him lean forward, cross his arms over the table and ask, “So Ruby, you said your dad’s the one cooking, but who runs the place?”

“He does.”

He arched a brow. “He’s the owner and the chef? And he makes his kids work here?”

She shifted on her feet. “Uh well, I only help out on weekends and maybe a weekday here or there when dad really needs me. Yang’s got it real bad tho. She has to rush from her classes at Cal State to here five times a week.”

As the suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, he almost asked, but figured the deliberate omission about the whereabouts of their mother was all the answer he needed.

“There’s no other waiters?” He asked instead.

“No, we’ve got a few part timers, just not enough for a full day. Dad keeps saying when business picks back up he’ll hire a few more and a new chef too but,” Ruby averted her gaze. “That was a year ago.”

“What happened?” He pressed.

She shook her head. “We kept losing staff and now I just think he’s too busy. He sometimes doesn’t even come home. He’ll just sleep at one of the tables and then be up for the next day.”

“He’s here every day? From open to close?”

“Yeah.”

He whistled low between his teeth, placing his palm under his chin. He’d had some rough shoots over the years, but at least he had the solace of taking breaks. “Wow. That’s awful. And I bet a teenager like you hates having to work when you’d rather be at home playing video games.”

“Oh, no. I don’t mind.” Ruby refuted, before amending shortly after, “Uh well, most times, at least. Jerky customers kind of ruin my day. But otherwise, it’s okay.”

He had a feeling it was anything but. “You sure ‘bout that?”

“Yeah. I mean, when we first moved here, this place was dad’s dream.” She waved vaguely in the air as if to encompass the little establishment. “He always loved making people happy by cooking for them. Even when I was a kid he’d tell me that the gift of a good meal is the smile on someone’s face when they eat it.” She faced him, resolute and steady. “I know it’s important to him, so if I can help him keep this place by working here every now and again, then that’s just what I’ll do.”

He studied her carefully, but nothing he could see seemed imply she was lying in any way. It was a value he could certainly respect, as he and his sister had grown up being told the importance of caring for and respecting their elders. But living in America taught him that not all families operated this way. It was surprising, but uplifting, to see it here. “That’s rather admirable of you.”

Before they could say more, a hiss of ‘Ruby!’ drew her up short, and then Yang was sidling over, an impressive stack of plates balanced precariously along her left arm. “Table 3 needs their check before they bounce on us.”

“Oh right.” She paused, just long enough to place the pastry dish on top of her sister’s already full load with an overly sweet smile.

Once his waitress had left, Qrow said, “Guess I’m distracting her.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. You can distract half the nation.” Yang replied. “Must be awful, never having enough privacy.”

He shrugged it off, as if he hadn’t sprinted several blocks twenty minutes ago. “Comes with the business.”

“Well, I’d hate it. I get enough attention as it is.” She shifted some of the weight on her arm.

“Ah, what? You’re the total heartthrob in school or something?” He could see that. She had other assets that matched Raven’s – and he remembered how often that had the boys trailing after her like stray dogs desperate for affection.

“Or something.” She echoed vaguely. “I’m going to go check on your meal.”

It was only as she turned away, he noticed her right hand as it caught the faint light from above. The shine to the skin too bright to be natural and its immobility too revealing that the limb was anything but real.  

Or something indeed.

God, maybe he should pitch a show because this was starting to feel like a classic TV sitcom. A single dad, running a failing restaurant and just struggling to get by to provide for his two kids, one of whom was disabled and the other was sacrificing the last of her childhood. Ruby, with her boundless optimism, would be the star of course. Yang would be the sassy, fiery-tempered co-host. Their dad would be a bumbling fool with a heart of gold. It would either top the charts or fail after the first season.

Not having much else to do as he waited, he texted the inane thought off to his agent.

Your writing leaves a lot to be desired. Stick to acting Qrow. Willow ordered.

He chuckled silently, replying: Is this why you gave your daughters such icy names? Because they were born from someone so cold?

Watch your tongue Branwen or I’ll tell Tommy Wiseau you want to co-star with him.

Ouch, I’ve got freezerburn.

I’m again questioning why I work with you.

You love me. He sent an obnoxious amount of kiss emojis along with it just to really annoy her.

She sent back swords. Ah, she was the best.  

He decided to leave her alone, switching over to one of his racing game apps and immersing himself in the competition. Every now and again, he’d catch sight of the girls in the corner of his eye. Ruby taking orders and checking on customers. Yang fetching refills or cleaning up. His red Alpine racer was just passing the finish line of the second race when Ruby was coming back.

“Here you go, the best meal in the house.” She set down the dish before him. It was an excellent presentation, like it came right out of a cooking magazine. The fry-battered steak was a light, golden brown, slathered with a brownish-white, peppered gravy. A generous helping of fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes and bright yellow corn, both flecked with more pepper, completed the meal. All of it was framed by the plate with its dark blue flower trim that made the colors pop and really sold the southern charm.

“Thanks kiddo.” He said, feeling his stomach grumble.

“Enjoy!” She hesitated, adding in a small rush, “Just um, call me if you need me!”

He unrolled his utensils as she hurried away, shaking his head. She was probably hoping he’d call her every five minutes, just so she’d have more of an excuse to talk to him. Poor kid probably thought she was missing the opportunity of a lifetime. He didn’t let it bother him. After all, everyone who’s ever sat down with an interview with him knew he was a terrible conversationalist.

He cut down into the steak, finding it came apart easily and was perfectly cooked through. He dripped the bottom in the gravy, twisted it around on his fork, said a silent prayer to his arteries, and took the first bite.

Oh.

Oh.

Holy Mother of Mary.

The fried breading crunched nicely but the steak practically melted into his mouth, combining with the gravy and a series of spices he couldn’t even begin to name but knew it was doing something wonderful to his taste buds.

He hummed happily. It was good. It was beyond good. As he cut another piece and took another bite, finding it as delectable as the last, he still couldn’t believe it. There was just no way anything could be this delicious.

He was over three-quarters of the way through the steak by the time Ruby came to check on him.

“Sooo,” She glanced at his plate then to him, smirking, “You like it, don’t you?”

“Don’t look so smug.” Qrow replied halfheartedly, stuffing another forkful in his mouth and hearing her fading giggle.

He didn’t get it though; with food like this, the place should be packed. If people could wait in line to get his autograph for six hours, then why couldn’t they wait a measly half hour for an incredible meal?

“Hey kid.” He said when Ruby came back around again, this time to collect his empty plate.

“Yeah?”

“We still got to take your picture. Any chance I can give my compliments to the chef while we’re at it?”

“If Yang can be in it too, you got yourself a deal.”

He chuckled. Should have expected that. “You got it.”

“Eeeee!” She squealed, hopping in excitement. “Okay, okay, let’s go now!”

He obliged, finding it hard to move at first. Wow, he was stuffed. He managed to follow Ruby to the back, seeing her wave her sister over before he was led through the double doors.

Walking into the kitchen was like walking backstage on a set – wherein the stage was just a collection of pieces meant to play their positions and what was behind the curtain was where the magic truly happened to bring it all together. But instead of sound design and lights, it was sizzling grills and knives chopping down. And instead of half a dozen people rushing about, there was only one. He was mincing up an onion with a swift finesse only the best of chefs had while singing along with a cassette player that was peddling out country tunes.

“It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you nooow.”

Singing badly, Qrow thought, cringing inwardly.

“Dad, no!” Ruby cried. Not even looking their way, the man just continued on, more loudly and off-key then before.

“Oh god, please smite me.” Yang groaned as she walked in, hiding her face in her hand.

Her sister raced across the room, pulling at his sleeve, hissing insistently. “Dad, we have company.”

“Meaning I have an audience that actually appreciates my performance?” His laughter was hearty as he peered over her head. The cutting stopped immediately. “U-Uhh…” Was all he managed to splutter before looking down at his daughter. “Uh?!”

“Told you he was here.” She said in a know-it-all sort of tone.

Used to this, Qrow just cleared his throat, introducing himself even if it felt a bit arbitrary. “Qrow Branwen. A pleasure to meet you.”

The man didn’t reply straight away, still taken aback by his very presence – or perhaps, from the faint lines of panic crinkling his brow, weighing over the fact he’d just served a celebrity without actually knowing it. Whatever it was, he seemed to catch his bearings, setting down his knife and crossing the kitchen. As he introduced himself in turn, he held out his hand, “Believe me, pleasure’s all mine. Name’s Taiyang Xiao Long.”

Xiao Long? Strange, he didn’t appear to have any Chinese in him, which likely meant he was married into the surname. At least now he really understood the restaurant’s title. Qrow shook his hand, surprised by the strong grip. He could feel the calluses built onto his hands from years of using cooking utensils.

“I apologize,” Taiyang said as he pulled back. “Had I taken my daughter’s word for it, I would have offered you a meal more extravagant. Or at the very least, some good wine.”

He had to keep himself from chuckling at the way Ruby stuck out her tongue at her dad’s back. “That’s alright. If I’m being honest, that was one of the finest meals I’ve had in quite some time.”

The chef’s cheeks turned a little rosy but his smile was just like his daughter’s, toothy and bright. “That’s mighty kind of you to say.” Heh, cute. He even talked like the aesthetic.

Before they could converse more, the ringing of a timer drew Taiyang’s attention. “Ah, pardon me.” He hurried to the stove, pausing only long enough to wash his hands.

“Sooooo,” Ruby stretched out the word as she slid back over, pulling out her phone. “Picture?”

“Wait, hold on!” Yang ripped off her hat, finger-combing through her golden locks. “Does my hair look okay?”

Her sister gave her a thumb’s up. “Like a rat’s nest. So yes- Ack!” She got smacked in the face with the hat.

“Girls, don’t be bothering him like that.” Their father chastised, stirring something in a large pot.

“We’re not!” Yang claimed.

He shook his head, but it was hard to tell if it was at her or at the soup he was tasting. “Really Mr. Branwen, you don’t have to.”

Ruby looked scandalized. “What?!”

“He owes us. I kept all the other customers away from him.” His eldest explained.

His head whipped around. “That’s worse! A man shouldn’t have to pay for his privacy!” As he pulled down some spices, he continued, “What you two ought to be doing is just appreciating the moment.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea dad. Now if only I had something to capture it with and keep it forever. Oh wait!” Ruby waved around her phone violently. “I DO!”

Unable to hold it in anymore, Qrow started to laugh. He was right; they would make a good sitcom. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met such interesting people.” He addressed the chef, “It’s alright, really. I did promise them.”

Taiyang opened his mouth to protest further, but another timer went off – how many did he have? – so he just said, “To each his own I suppose.” Before he turned to go check something in the oven.

Taking the opportunity for what it was, he held up his arms. “Alright, bring it in ladies.”

Ruby tossed her own hat next to Yang’s, giggling as his arm came around her shoulders. Yang was a little more uncomfortable, so he let his hand rest on her shoulder, above where he assumed her arm ended, and felt her relax almost instantly.

“Okay, 3, 2, 1!” They all smiled widely as the camera shutter clicked. They pulled away and Ruby looked it over to make sure it was good, before squealing happily. “Oh gosh it’s perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re – oof! – welcome.” He huffed out when she nearly tackled him with a hug. He pat her back. “Now, I believe I promised an autograph too?”

She grinned hugely. “Right, yes!” She grabbed Yang, “Come on we got to find something for him to sign!” The two hurried to a small office, and he caught Ruby saying, “He could even sign your arm!”

“You think?” Yang’s voice faded to the background, overtaken by a loud sizzling.

As Qrow came as close as he dared, Taiyang said, “Thank you for this. You really made their year.” He was stirring the onion he had minced earlier around a nice heap of melting butter in a hot pan.

“Like I said, it’s fine.” He echoed.

“Still, it’s appreciated.” The burner was flipped off and the pan taken from the heat, but the onions continued to sauté.  “‘Fraid I can’t offer you much in compensation though, beyond giving you your meal free.”

He tilted his head. “Can you afford that?”

“Really, I insist. As they say, happiness is priceless.” Was the curt reply.

Only the rich say that. He scoffed at the obvious farce – not that Taiyang noticed as he turned away to attend to something else. Subtlety by words had never been his strong suit, and it wouldn’t be in the next five minutes either. So, he cut to the chase, “Listen bud, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know everything, but it’s pretty obvious from the state of this place to the lack of non-relative employees, that you’re not exactly in good standing.”

“An astute observation, but I don’t believe you needed to bring up all that just to make a case to pay for your meal.” He was back to chopping – this time, potatoes. Stubborn as a mule was a term invented for this guy, wasn’t it?

“It wasn’t.” Qrow assured. “It was a case to buy your restaurant.”

The knife chopped down so hard, it went right into the wood. Taiyang turned around to stare at him. A clatter to their left caught Qrow’s attention. The girls were both standing just outside of the office, the things they’d brought for him to sign now strewn across the ground.

No one spoke.

A beeping filled the air, and still no one spoke.

“Uh. Timer?” He said, awkwardly.

Taiyang seemed to blink out of whatever daze he was in. He came forward, almost aggressively enough that Qrow tried not to shrink back, but the other man only reached over his shoulder to turn off the timer, side-eyeing him as he walked away.

“Really?” Ruby’s small but hopeful voice shook the tense air.

Yang’s was more suspicious. “You do know you’re buying a failing business, right?”

He offered the duo a smile. “Won’t be failing when I’m done with it. This place just needs a bit of sprucing up. More staff. Maybe a new location-”

Slam! Went a cooking sheet on the countertop.

“No.” Taiyang said rigidly.

Unperturbed, Qrow carried on. “Alright, no new location. Kind of a bad move but I can work with that. But the name has got to-”

“Stop.” He commanded. “Do not treat me like a fool. I may not have grown up here, but I learned rather quickly that folks around here will do a lot for 15 minutes of fame. I will not allow you to do the same to my family.”

“What, dad-!” Yang started

“Can’t you just-!” Ruby spoke over her.

“Quiet, both of you!” He bellowed, before turning his back to them, grabbing some tongs to turn the racks of ribs around a bit more aggressively then needed. “The answer is no, and that’s final. Now, I will thank you kindly to take your empty offer and walk it out the door.”

When the girls started to raise protest again, Qrow was the one to silence them this time, raising a finger to his lips, before he took a few steps closer to the chef. “Believe me when I say the offer is not empty. Your daughter over there tells me how much this place meant to you when you first got it, but now you’re letting it rot under your feet. Is that really how you want it to go out?” The other man’s jaw clenched and he refused to look at him. He took that as a good sign, reaching out to place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you and your family.”

For his efforts, a set of tongs were shoved so close to his face, they almost touched his nose.

Behind the makeshift weapon, Taiyang’s eyes bored into his own. He spoke steady and sharp, “Mr. Branwen, I will say this once and only once. I have put everything I got, my entire heart and soul, into this restaurant. It is the only thing I have for my girls and I am NOT about to gamble it away on some publicity stunt to stroke a rich man’s ego. So, you ask me to believe you? Then come back with a lawyer and a contract full of terms we both agree on, as I will settle for nothing less. Am I understood?”

The storm brewing in those blue eyes didn’t intimidate him, because this close, he could see the dark circles etching a deep exhaustion around them. The mark of a person desperate and at the end of their rope. Despite only knowing him for a few minutes, Qrow could tell that he was a good man, as well as aggravatingly hardheaded.

“Got it.” He told him, reaching into his pocket to fetch his shades. “I’ll see you in a few days then.”

As he pulled them on and turned away, he thought perhaps he heard Tai give some biting remark about how tomorrow, perhaps he’d be offered the moon. But he didn’t let it faze him. Instead, he crossed over to where the girls still stood, frozen – but unlike their father, they did nothing to hide the tentative hope on their faces.

Qrow lent down, fetching the sharpie and two sheets of paper, using a nearby counter to pen out the autographs. He even took the time to add his signature calligraphy, making the tail of the Q look like a feather. He offered each one in turn, “Ruby, Yang. Thank you for the pleasant experience.”

Yang was slow to take hers, as if she might say something. In the end she only thanked him.

Contrastingly, Ruby’s vibrancy was back, an almost nervous energy pitching her tone as she quickly offered to walk him to the door. It didn’t take him long to figure out why, as she hid her face in her treasured autograph and groaned. “I’m sorry about my dad. He’s just so, so, embarrassing!”

“He’s not so bad.” He refuted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Against his fingertips, he felt the buzz from his phone signaling an incoming message – no doubt An letting him know she’d arrived. “He’s playing it smart. Even I don’t do a job without a contract.”

“Still, he could have been more polite.”

Her tone allowed no argument, so he didn’t bother to tell her that for him, it was actually a refreshing change of pace. He had all sorts of people tripping over themselves to fawn at his feet and, while some celebrities ate up all that attention, Qrow had certainly never been one of them. It was nice being talked to like an equal – a privilege often reserved only to his closest coworkers and manager.

There was also just something so honestly genuine about Tai. Call it simple intuition, but he knew what it took to play all sorts of characters and he could say without a doubt that the blond wouldn’t be able to fool a preschooler if he tried. He was the kind of man who hid nothing and wore his emotions right on his sleeve.

Qrow, who shuttered his behind fake smiles and sunglasses all day, could really appreciate a quality like that.

“It was really amazing to meet you.” Ruby said as she pulled open the front door for him. “Like, as in the-best-thing-to-ever-happen-to-me amazing.”

“You’re setting the standard pretty high there, considering it won’t be the last time you see me.” Qrow said, stepping outside.

Her expression lifted, her youth seeing to shine through in her eyes. “You mean, you’re really coming back? Ever after dad was, well, a total jerkwad?”

“Well, you know what they say. You feed a crow once, and it’ll come back to roost.” He pulled down his sunglasses, enough to wink at her. “See you ‘round kiddo.”

“Y-Yeah! See you! Thank you so much, Mr. Branwen!”

He was pretty sure she waved after his car long after it left the street.

~

Three days would pass before Qrow would return to the Dragon’s Den. Like a knight readying for battle, he stood in front of the door over an hour before opening time.

When Tai finally arrived, he almost dropped his keys in the gutter at the mere sight of him.

“Why hello thar pardner.” Qrow drawled, tipping an imaginary hat. “Fancy meeting you here.”

For a moment, he just stared blankly. But finally, a snort escaped him. “You need to do more westerns if that’s the best you got, pardner.” He stepped forward, adding more softly, “You, came back.”

He nodded. “’Fraid I don’t have the moon to offer you, but I got the next best thing.”

Taking his cue, the gentlemen standing nearby fixed up his tie and strode forward. “Mr. Xiao Long? I’m Hei Xiong. I work in property management. It’s my understanding Mr. Branwen here would like to strike a deal with you.”

“Does he now?” That same bite Qrow’d heard in the kitchen was back, the blonde’s hackles already raised. Not missing a beat, Hei ruffled through a few papers in his folder, pulling out the top one to show him. Tai read it aloud. “Claim of co-ownership?”

“Yes. Mr. Branwen is interested in becoming your business partner.” The manager supplied.

“…Does he now?” He echoed as he looked towards Qrow, but the fiery attitude he’d expelled like a shield had doused some.

“We would be happy to discuss it in more detail this morning, if you’ve available?” Hei asked.

Anticipation held Qrow’s breath and anxiety jumped his heart as he waited for the other man’s response.

For the second time, he was rewarded with another of Tai’s bright and toothy grins. “I certainly am.” He stepped past them both and opened the door to the Den. “Please come in.”

[letsbenditlikebennett]

The Killer in Me || Ariana & Athena

TIMING: Evening of July 12th SUMMARY: Ariana and Athena go to Red Dragon for dinner. Some very truthful conversations happen and incorrect conclusions are drawn. PARTIES: @athenaquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett 

Initially, Ariana had been worried she freaked Athena out with all the werewolf and hunter stuff. If it had been too much for her, Ari could hardly fault her. She was born into this and lately some of it was starting to feel like too much for her. Most mornings, it was easier to get up and face the day again, but every so often, a dream of Celeste would slip in and just make her want to cling to her blanket for the remainder of the day. Athena had become somewhat of a bright spot in the midst of the grief that kept trying to creep up from below the surface. The kids at camp were great and so filled with energy, but seeing Athena every day brought a certain amount of excitement. She was positive they’d been flirting, even when chatting online, but getting to see Athena with the kids often left her speechless with admiration. They all seemed to look up to her and how could they not? It was enchanting to watch and it only made her more eager for their night out together. She was pretty positive it was a date which only made her more excited. She’d even put some extra effort into curling her hair and even shot Blanche a photo of her outfit to make sure she wasn’t totally clashing. Normally, she didn’t mind too much, she could always attribute mismatching clothing to being colorblind, but she wanted to look nice tonight. This would be their first actual date and she wanted to impress. With confirmation from Blanche that her outfit was in fact worthy of a few fire emojis, she made her way to the Red Dragon to meet Athena. She spotted her from across the dining room and of course her hair was perfectly in place. She smiled and waved as she approached, taking the seat across from her. “Hey,” she said, smile beaming, “You look amazing. If you ever decide to share your hair care secrets, I’m 100% calling first dibs.”

She’d liked the time she spent with Ariana and she’d liked getting to know her. There was rarely a time when Athena felt as though she’d been equally matched in her soccer playing, and she thought that she’d found that with Ariana. So of course she had to go and be a werewolf. The reveal had been like a punch in the gut, and the fact that Athena didn’t want to kill her left her feeling the need to put even more hours into training and into solo runs. Ariana had told her so much all at once and had it only been everything other than the fact that she was a werewolf, Athena would have managed. If she allowed herself to think about it for more than a few seconds, she would have acknowledged that Ariana was pretty attractive too, and that her admission of liking Athena wasn’t as alarming as she knew her parents would have wished for it to be. Then Orion had gotten on her case about everything and that made Athena’s blood boil. Which meant that she was absolutely going to tell Ariana that they were both hunters. She didn’t know why she felt like she owed the girl honesty, but she did - and she was angry at her brother, which meant that if she had to lose a friend, she would mess things up for him as well. After all, she was a warden and he was a beast hunter. Ariana deserved to know that. Even if her brother wouldn’t even hurt a fly. So she’d dressed up nicely for the dinner - pulled her hair into a half ponytail, thrown on a purple dress and a nice pair of flats. She arrived early and grabbed a table, and was just paging through the menu when she spotted Ariana arriving and grinned. “Hey! You look great too.” I should just get this over with. Either version of this. “Thought I’d wear a dress that matched your hair, since not all of us can pull off the colored hair look.” She motioned for Ariana to sit down. “So, what are you thinking of ordering?”

There was no hiding the beaming look on Ariana’s face as Athena told her she looked great. Then Athena’s dress intentionally matched her hair which only somehow made her smile even wider. She wasn’t even sure how that was possible, but it left her with a floating feeling. A certain lightness she hadn’t ever remembered feeling before. It was a huge contrast to how the heaviness of loss that seemed to paint her day to day life since she’d lost Celeste. She quickly shook the thought. Tonight wasn’t about that. It was about spending time with a girl she admired and getting to know her better. She took the seat across from Athena and responded, “Thank you. I have to say, I did the whole hair and dress matching thing. It’s totally a look.” One that made them look cute… together. She could totally get behind that. At the mention of food, she realized she didn’t do her usual glance at the menu online before arriving, but she usually went for something with red meat no matter the establishment. Unless it was Veggie Tables or she was sharing with Layla. She glanced down at her menu and asked, “What do you recommend? I usually go for some sort of beef stir fry, but I’d love to hear what your favorites are.” She’d take note of them for the future. Maybe one of these days she could surprise her with a nice lunch or something. She worked so hard and did so much for others, it only seemed right someone should look out for her every once and awhile, too. She took in the atmosphere and appetizing smells of the restaurant. “It smells great in here. I can see why it’s one of your favorite spots. Definitely good for scheduled relaxation.” She said the last part somewhat teasingly before adding, “I’m really glad we’re doing this though. We haven’t really gotten the chance to hang out one on one since our run and I know everything I told you was a lot to unpack. I’m happy I didn’t totally scare you off or anything.”

If Ariana had only told her that she like-liked her, all of this would have been far easier. However, she’d told Athena that she was a werewolf and now Athena had to deal with that. Which was hard - admittedly even harder than when her parents had asked her to kill a former teacher. She could see the teacher’s body on the floor, feel her blood against her lips when her father had stepped in instead. She could see Ariana there, if she closed her eyes. Some twisted combination of that night and her and Rio’s eighteenth birthday. Athena shook her head, forcing herself out of the thoughts as she flashed Ariana another smile. “I dig it too, it’s a good look.” Maybe it was a mistake, but she didn’t want Ariana to go running before she had the chance to tell her everything. In a little while. At the other girl’s question Athena gave pause. “Well, the potstickers are famous for a reason. We could do chicken for that. My Little and I share them sometimes on study nights.” She thumbed through the menu, “any lo mein is good, but if you want a good stir fry I do know some folks who like the beef. I have to admit, they make a killer spicy green beans as far as sides go. Feel free to order anything you want, I’m paying, and it’s worth trying a few things. I sometimes do the sesame chicken. That is excellent, especially when I mix the spicy green beans in.” Despite everything, she had to grin at Ariana’s comment, “what better place, right?” She flipped her menu shut. “You know, I should probably start expecting things like this more often, given that I’m from this town. I am truly sorry about your sister - we don’t have to talk about it, but if - well, if there’s anything I can do to help honor her, let me know.” Not that you’ll want that after what I’m going to tell you, probably. It was the polite thing to offer, though. Fit very well with her ‘tutorial-perfect hair’ and practiced smile. “Don’t worry, takes a lot more than that to scare me off.” The waiter appeared by their table just then and Athena glanced over to Ariana. “Ready to order?”

As far as Ariana was concerned, it was a good sign that Athena liked matching with her. It gave her hope that maybe she found someone that she liked and was actually able to accept what she was. Not that she had really told any past crushes about what she was. Athena was different. For one, she somehow already knew about the supernatural. Not the most shocking thing for someone growing up in White Crest. Before moving here, there was no one she could have possibly told she was a werewolf without thinking she was insane. It was kind of freeing to like someone she could actually be herself around. She just smiled and agreed the look really did work for both of them. She listened closely as Athena told her all her favorites on the menu. Everything sounded delicious. “We could totally share the postickers. I like chicken, too,” she suggested and added, “Maybe some of those spicy green beans, too?” She found she was pretty hungry and everything Athena mentioned sounded delicious. The atmosphere was relaxing, too. Despite the hint of nerves that came with a first proper date, she found she was feeling more and more at ease. She rested her arms on the table and grinned, “No better place and no better company.” When the server came over, she asked for a Thai iced tea and some potstickers and green beans to share to start. Once he walked away, her full attention returned to Athena. “I don’t think anyone could ever expect half the stuff White Crest throws at them. Like even being in the know my whole life, there are some truly crazy things here… like the mimes. I still don’t get the mimes.” Her tone was a bit joking, trying to keep things light. Plus, the mimes were pretty ridiculous even if they were dangerous. The mention of Celeste caused her to look down at her hands momentarily. While it was easier to get through each day, it still felt like a huge piece of her was missing and she doubted that would ever truly go away. “Maybe one day we can do that. I have a little memorial tree for her-- I go and talk to her sometimes. Can’t really do anything to properly honor her since I can’t really tell everyone about it. I don’t know, I just… I keep trying to be someone she’d be proud of to honor her. Keep her alive in a way, I guess.” She stopped herself from going on about it too much. She didn’t quite feel like crying when they were supposed to be having a nice time together, “I do appreciate the offer. It’s incredibly sweet of you.” She contemplated reaching out to touch Athena’s hand, but she didn’t want to push or make her uncomfortable in any way.

I should have invited her to another run, just made this over and done with. The thoughts wouldn’t stop racing through Athena’s head. Coupled with the thoughts of what her parents would do if they knew that she was out to dinner with a werewolf. That she’d likely flirted online - halfway, but she hadn’t pulled away, and that would have perhaps been the worst part of it all. “I find chicken to be highly versatile when it comes to cooking. Yes, we can share both of those.” She wasn’t entirely sure how much she’d be eating anyhow - or when it was best to tell Ariana about her and her brother. He didn’t care about her anyhow, no matter how much she loved him. No matter what she did to keep him safe. She was born to help better the world and she was supposed to help keep her brother safe. He didn’t want that though, and she squeezed one of her hands into a fist, doing her best to regulate her breathing. If he didn’t want her to protect him, then she wouldn’t claim anything after she told Ariana what they were. Even if under most normal circumstances she would have thrown out a comment about how her brother shouldn’t have even counted as a hunter. “No better of anything.” Lips curved into a smile. With the server’s arrival she ordered a Thai iced tea as well - why not, after all? It’d give her something else to focus on, and she had to appreciate the fusion of cuisines that the Red Dragon had. “Nobody gets the mimes. Trust me. Lived here my whole life and I don’t get it.” Maybe bringing up the whole dead sister wasn’t the best way to go, but Athena had rarely been good at true sympathy, even if she did feel sick at the idea of another hunter dying. Even though she’d known other hunters who had died, it never felt any easier. “I think working to keep her alive in your own way is well worth it. The tree idea is nice - gives back to the world too, in a way,” just as she did, even if she adopted you - adopted a werewolf. She looked over to Ariana. “Thank you. I just figured it was the good thing to do.”  I could even take some droplets of silver and put them in your food. You still could just deal with this without telling her. So why did Athena feel some sort of obligation to out herself? Luckily, the waiter arrived back with their teas just then and Athena grabbed hers and took a quick sip of it before placing it on the table. The waiter asked if they were ready to order and Athena gave a small shrug, before asking for the sesame chicken before she let Ariana order and sat back in her chair. “I’m super sorry if I’ve asked you this before - but do you think you’re in White Crest for the long haul? I know you’ve moved around some before now - but do you think you’ll stick around here?”

Ariana found that things with Athena just felt natural. As different as they were as people, they shared a lot of hobbies. It was a balance that she found made being with Athena so easy. It had taken the other girl a bit to process everything Ariana had told her, but she could hardly fault her for that. It was a lot. Most days, it still felt like too much for her to truly wrap her head around. Now that they’d both had some time and talked some more, everything just felt right. “I get that,” she answered truthfully, “Chicken pretty much tastes like how you season it. Makes it easy to pair with well.. Anything.” She smiled, thinking over a few different chicken dishes she could make for Athena. She made really good Tennessee Hot Chicken and it was something that made her still feel somewhat connected to where she came from. She couldn’t help the playful smirk on her lips as Athena agreed there was indeed no better company or anything else. It quickly delved into head shaking when they spoke mimes. Stupid croissant tasting jerks. “I hate mimes,” she stated plainly. “I thought they were cool and mysterious at first. Quickly learned otherwise when my mime twin tried to kill me.” And turned into a werewolf… but that was a bit too crazy of a story. Athena had seemed to be warming up to the whole werewolf thing. Didn’t need to make it even crazier. She nodded along. Keeping Celeste alive in the same small ways she tried to keep her parents alive. “I think so, too. Carrying her close to me even when she can’t be here just feels…as right as her being gone can feel.” When Athena asked if she intended in town, she nodded her head yes. Celeste had stayed her with her and fought on her behalf so they could finally have a longstanding home. Plus, her ashes were spread here. She couldn’t imagine leaving now. Between Celeste’s resting place and the pack she’d made, she couldn’t leave now. “Yeah, definitely here for the long haul. I’ve always wanted to be able to settle somewhere.” She just wished it was with Celeste. She sipped at her iced tea and asked, “What about you? Planning on going away for med school or staying local?”

“Yep. Plus, it’s in so many different cuisines. Chicken Tikka Masala is a favorite of mine.” Athena gave another small shrug. Let her gaze fall on Ariana’s lips for a moment and she bit her own before she grabbed her tea and took a small sip. If it had only been that Ariana thought she was hot, Athena would have been more than happy to deal with that. Heck, she’d flirted online, even if unintentionally at first. “You had one of those too? Gee, I’m super lucky I didn’t. I think that was when I literally lost my voice though.” She made a face. “Yeah, I mean, one of them also might have flirted with me, which, weird, but I’m not a fan. Of the mimes.” For all of everything else, there was at least one thing - besides soccer - that the two could connect on. Clearly caring deeply for a sibling, albeit in different ways. “That makes sense. I am glad you are able to keep her close by.” Here for the long haul unless something happens to you. She pushed the thought out of her mind for now. Whatever was going to happen tonight, she had to be level-headed and level-minded. “Settling is nice, but so’s travel. I mean, I’ve never even been outside of Maine.” She fiddled with the cross on her necklace. “Hm?” She blinked a few times. “I’m not sure. I mean, I’d like to do Harvard or Johns Hopkins but I’ll see.” See what my parents want, what is best for the greater good. “Sometimes I think I might have a good reason to stay here.” She let her lips curve into a conspiratorial smile. “I’ve still got another year until I’d be going, so I guess we’ll see! Are you excited to start your trade school program?”

It was hard for Ariana to ignore the small flutter in her chest when she realized Athena was staring at her lips. That was supposed to be a good sign, right? All of this was still pretty foreign to Ariana. She’d never really gotten a chance to stay somewhere long enough to develop an actual relationship with anyone with all the moving around. She decided not to dwell too much on it. Athena knew how she felt, if she wanted to act on that, she could. Ariana didn’t want to do anything to make her uncomfortable, especially considering what Orion had told her about their parents. At the mention of a mime flirting with her, Ariana cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Do I need to fight another mime? Because I’ll totally fight another mime,” she joked, “You’re way too cool to date a mime.” Not really wanting to talk more about Celeste, she nodded and glossed over the statement. It wasn’t that she wanted to forget Celeste, but right now, it still stung too much. Instead she focused on Athena’s own musings about staying and traveling. At the mention of never leaving Maine, Ariana gasped and said, “You haven’t been outside of Maine? You definitely have to do some traveling then.” She smiled and went one, “As a permanent way of life, it can get exhausting-- not having roots or somewhere to really call home, but it’s awesome to see the world.” She paused briefly, wondering if she should really extend the invitation on such a personal trip, but it’d be nice to have her there. “I was actually planning on doing a little road trip to Tennessee toward the end of the summer. Smoky Mountain area. It’s where Celeste and I were originally from.” She’d save the sniffing out other wolves and potentially finding some living family parts. “Harvard or Johns Hopkins? Both awesome medical programs, right? I’m sure you have the GPA for it. You should do a tour of them both or something. See which one feels right,” she encouraged even if it meant she’d be further away for medical school. Following her dreams seemed much more important than proximity. “Is that so,” she asked, not quite sure what to make of Athena’s grin even if she was mirroring it herself. “I’m pretty excited about the trade school program. I’ve actually been helping build the cabin I’ll be living in every day after camp. It’ll be cool to learn new techniques and get creative with it though. There’s no shortage of property damage in White Crest so I think I’ll be set job wise.”

“Gee, no. Not worth it.” Athena gave a half-hearted shrug. “She’s mostly left me alone and fighting mimes? So not worth it. There are far better ways to spend one’s time.” She let out a light giggle at Ariana’s next remark. “Thanks, same goes for you. The whole being way too cool to date a mime. Besides, talk about boring. Personally, I like to be able to have some level of verbal conversation with anyone who I go on a date with.” She gave a small shrug at Ariana’s query about never having been outside of Maine. “I mean, it is a big state. My family’s here, so no - I’ve never been anywhere else. I guess sometimes I’m curious, but I’m so used to where I’ve grown up, so it’s not so bad. Someday maybe I’ll go somewhere else.” I should just tell her and get it over with, she thought to herself, but then Ariana was telling her even more about her past and a vacation she had planned for later this summer, if my parents don’t find out about you first, “oh yeah? That seems like a nice sort of thing to have planned. Have you ever been back before now, or will this be the first time?” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she nodded. “I’ll see about touring them - and yes! They are two of the best in the entire country. Not that the one here is bad, but I don’t know, it’d be nice to go somewhere with a name attached to it.” Convincing her parents would be a whole other thing. Being away in medical school meant not being in town to do what she was born to do. The very reason she’d invited Ariana out, anyhow. “It is so.” She grinned, nodding along, “oh, absolutely. This town does seem to invite not only property damage but creative property damage.” The waiter arrived with their appetizers just then and Athena spooned a few of the green beans onto her plate before grabbing a potsticker. “Try it,” she motioned toward Ariana with a chopstick. “Tell me what you think.”

Fighting mimes was actually kind of fun, but Ariana wasn’t going to touch on that. Definitely wasn’t going to say they tasted like croissants. “You’re probably right,” she agreed. Outside of Ulfric, she wasn’t sure many would actually appreciate the anecdotal tale of turning a mime into a late night snack. “It is a lot more fun when you can talk to your date,” she added with a wink and smirk curling up on her lips. “Maine is a big state. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally ready to stay put for a long time, but there are some truly beautiful places throughout the country and I’m sure beyond.” Her own planned road trip was a bit hard to explain, but she answered, “Yeah, I’m excited for it. It’ll be nice to see where I came from. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like. I was probably going to camp though. Not sure if that’s your thing.” As the food arrived, she took a moment to appreciate the different aromas. A comforting savory smell with spice and herbs peeking through. She reached her chopsticks out for a potsticker. She blew on it before taking a bite. She let out a small “mmm” to indicate it was in fact delicious. After trying the green beans, she replied, “Yes, this is definitely all delicious. I can see why you enjoy this place so much.”

She did her best to not focus on the wink or the smirk that covered Ariana’s face. Athena wasn’t quite ready to process whatever those might mean; not right now, at least. Or acknowledge and process. “Yes, talking is quite essential in order for me to enjoy my time out with someone.” She gave a small nod, “Oh, I bet. I mean, I was and am a bit of a whiz at some geography, so I’m aware of the extraordinary world out there.” Then Ariana was inviting her on this road trip and Athena raised her eyebrows, doing her best to remain calm. “You’re really nice to offer! However, my parents can be…” particular. Not willing to let me go anywhere with a werewolf. Not letting me go out of town with a girl, either, possibly. Picky. “Strict,” she answered. “I’m actually pretty handy in the outdoors, even if camping’s not super my thing.” She didn’t know when she was going to tell her. Maybe once the rest of the food came. She could feel the pressure of her silver rings against her fingers. Could feel them calling to her, could almost hear her mother at their most recent training. “Can’t go wrong with this kinda thing, I think. Plus, they’re good at knowing my allergies and since I don’t have the peanut one going for me, it’s easier to avoid in this sort of food.” She took another small bite of the potsticker and flashed Ariana a smile.

Ariana nodded in agreement. The whole silent thing with mimes was weird. Yeah, it was supposed to be a performance, but the mimes in town… well, she didn’t think it was a performance for them. It’s just what they were. She took a few more bites from the green beans on her plate. The spice on them was nice and balanced-- it wasn’t overbearing by any means. She found she quite enjoyed them even though she was eager for her beef lo mein. After making a vegan lunch for herself and Layla, she found she was missing the meat. It was nice enjoying one of Athena’s favorites though and she found things were flowing easily. They always seemed to talk without much difficulty. Well, aside from that one time she told her about being a werewolf and her sister being a dead hunter. Given, that was a lot. She frowned slightly, but respected the thing with her parents. She’d gotten as much from Rio. “I totally get that. I’ll get some awesome Smoky Mountain view pictures to send your way then,” she responded calmly. It was probably for the better. If anyone were going to join her, it should probably be another wolf. She joked, “Of course you’re handy in the outdoors. Is there anything you’re not good at?” Having lots of allergy friendly options was always a plus. Ariana was personally always looking for places that had good meat and vegan options. “I get you, it’s good to have a place where you have good options that won’t you know… set off an allergic reaction.” As the waiter brought the food over, Ariana took in a deep inhale. That smelled delicious and looked so as well. She was ready to ravenously dig in, but refrained from letting her wolf-like appetite totally take over. She took her first bite and gave an approving nod. “Okay, definitely taking any future restaurant recommendations you have because this is fire.”

“You’d better.” Athena raised an eyebrow. “I know my Little’s planning to study abroad next year and she says she’ll send me postcards. If I can’t go somewhere, a photo or a postcard’s the next best thing!” She was being overly enthusiastic. Somehow, it felt different than usual. “I don’t know, maybe? I’m not the best at art. But I still help with my sorority’s banners for Rush and we do have the best ones on the row, so…” she shrugged. “When my brother and I were little, I used to figure out some of his Boy Scout activities and show him how to do them, so….” She trailed off, cutting into another green bean and taking a careful bite. “Always a plus in my book. I’d like to, you know, not die.” Especially not from some allergies. Completely avoidable so long as she took proper care of herself. Glancing up, she saw the food arriving. Giving a nod of thanks to the waiter she served herself a bit of chicken and some rice - and couldn’t help but smile at Ariana’s reaction. “Well, I do know my way around town.” Rio’s going to mess this up for me anyhow so I might as well do this. Besides, I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t feel remorse for telling a werewolf that I am a hunter. “By the way,” her lips curved up into only half a smile. “Did my brother ever happen to mention that he’s a beast hunter?” She dropped her fork onto her plate, raising an eyebrow. “Only he got those genes. I’m not,” even though I’ve killed more wolves, different shapeshifters, and other beings then he has, “I’m a warden.” She stabbed her piece of chicken with her fork, taking a small bite. “Figured you should know, given,” she nodded between the two of them, “all of this.”

“I’ll for sure be taking a lot of photos so I can manage that,” Ariana replied excitedly. She couldn’t wait to be camping in the mountains she was born in. Connecting to a part of her past that was once too dangerous to explore. It all made her giddy and it showed. At the mention of not being the best at art, she laughed. “Being not the best at art and terrible at art are two totally different things.” She was decent enough at sketching, but being colorblind didn’t lend much help to other forms of art. Then again, Ulf specialized in blank ink work and his art was dope as fuck. She listened to Athena talk about her outdoors experience and the like as she shovelled lo mein into her mouth. She’d been about to respond when Athena asked her next question. Did she know Rio was a beast hunter? What? Her fork dropped, clanking against her plate. Her face went pale and she struggled to find her words. Then Athena said she was a warden. Slightly better for her current predicament, but Rio was a beast hunter? He killed werewolves and she thought they were for real friends? She suddenly felt very sick. “I--,” she started. What the fuck she was supposed to say? “He, You’re-- What? He never said anything. We’ve talked about all this stuff and he never even--” She swallowed back a lump in her throat and placed clenched fists in her lap. “So you hate werewolves then,” she said plainly. Either they did or they didn’t. She needed to know.

“Good. That’s good.” Athena replied. “Well, hey, you know, I call it like I see it. I wasn’t lying about you rocking your hair the way you do, or the fact of how I matched my dress to your hair.” She heard Ariana’s fork clink against her plate and something in her - small, miniscule, hardly noticeable - felt tight. Like maybe she shouldn’t have done this. Not because of her brother. He’d made her mad enough - but for Ariana. She had considered the other girl a friend, and she hadn’t stopped the flirting or whatever had been going on. “He doesn’t exactly advertise it. He’s interested in it.” None of that was false, but she didn’t have the heart right now to outwardly deny any of this. It wasn’t like Rio wouldn’t have painted her in the worst light possible. Even if some of what he said held certain truths to it. “I don’t hate you.” Athena pushed her plate to the side. “It’s complicated.” Fiddled with her rings, a couple on each hand. Rings that would easily burn Ariana if she so chose. She held her hands back, dropped them into her lap. “Fae? Not a fan of those.” Though she’d been raised to find all supernatural beings abhorrent, fae would always be top of the list. At least no other being made her feel physically uncomfortable. She was grateful for her abilities - always would be, but it did make fae even less appealing than they already were. She could hear her mother’s voice again - ask her to come outside, just get it over with Athena. No pet names. All formal. “I just figured I should be honest with you. I’m sorry my brother hasn’t been.” Glad he didn’t get to you first.

It was hard to feel that same joy over matching each other when her head was spinning too fast for her to come to terms with. Ariana could feel her heart beating faster yet somehow her chest felt tight. The air in the restaurant suddenly seemed thick. She had unknowingly befriended someone who wanted to hunt her and had let herself have a crush on someone who would hurt Deirdre without second thought. At least with Kaden, she had known where they stood from the moment they met and Celeste had somehow mended the gap there. She wanted to have that same ability-- to bridge the hunter world and supernatural world so there was less death all around, but she felt blindsided. She’d trusted both of them and she felt so stupid for it. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unable to really hide her emotions. “He’s interested in it…” She trailed off, her voice had still been quiet but she imagined Athena could hear her. Did that mean he planned on hunting her? Oh god, he knew Layla. Did he plan on hurting Layla? The thought made her fists instinctively want to punch anything, but they were still at their table. God, was this over yet? She wanted more than anything to leave. Athena was still being nice enough to her, but the mention of hating fae still made her stomach do summersaults. While she had some potentially fae related concerns, she doubted they were all bad. She loved Deirdre and Kaden was dating a fae? They didn’t deserve to die on that basis alone. “I’m glad you don’t hate me.” It rang hollow. At least that meant one of them didn’t want to kill her. “Not a fan of fae, got it.” She’d have to make sure she and Deirdre never met. It was good Athena had been honest with her, but it still left her feeling sick and wanting to run out of the restaurant. Run to anywhere but here. Her voice was monotonous as she replied, “Thank you for telling me.” I can’t believe he didn’t. I can’t believe I stayed with them and he never even mentioned it. Oh no, what if he’s the one who picked up our bounty? It would have been so easy. I told him everything.

“I mean, he reads a ton, so I figure?” Athena shrugged. “He’s big into research.” She pushed a piece of chicken around on her plate. No longer hungry. No longer certain exactly what she was feeling. The girl in front of her was not human. She was precisely the sort of person - the sort of being - who Athena killed. Yet she’d never tried to hurt her. It still wasn’t right, though. “I won’t - I do not hate you.” Even if you are everything I am supposed to hate. “I have had far too much trouble with fae.” This wasn’t the point right now. “I figured I should.” The chicken was getting cold. She didn’t care. She could feel her mother’s gaze on her - impossible, because they weren’t near Harris Island. Yet somehow, her mother was there - or her thoughts were; every word she’d spoken about werewolves running through Athena’s mind. They are all vermin. We kill them, Athena, you know this. She knew over a dozen ways to do it, too. She looked over to Ariana - felt her throat go dry. “I suppose I can answer a question or two if you want.” She grabbed her fork, turning it in and between her fingers. She needed to hold onto something. To quell her gut instinct. The very fact that Ariana knew what she was was dangerous. Even if she seemed far less of a threat than Deirdre. She might know someone else. This wasn’t like Winston. They were human. Ariana was not, even if she looked it sometimes.

“Right, yeah, he does have all those books,” Ariana nodded. The plate in front of her still had entirely too much food and she felt sick. She’d given a beast hunter everything he needed to know to pick up her bounty. If it was him, all of it was her fault. But he’d been surprised. Then she remembered he also acted surprised when she told him she was a werewolf. It wouldn’t have been a surprise. He could have sensed her just like Celeste and Kaden had. Her stomach lurched again. Rio was supposed to be her friend and here she was being completely blindsided. She contemplated picking up her fork again to try and keep up the illusion of dinner, but even the smell was becoming too much. The air was starting to feel too thick. She longed to be back out in the fresh air with the trail home flying beneath her feet. “I don’t hate you either.” She just wasn’t who Ariana thought she was, but at least she was honest. Her attitude on fae wasn’t all that comforting, though. She loved Deirdre. Though remembering her last encounter with Lydia. No, she thought, you don’t even know what she is. You just need to see Ace again. At the mention of questions, she somehow blanked. She usually had a million questions, but right now, Ariana was sure she didn’t want to know the answers. Her mind was already reeling. “Could that be a standing offer? I’m kind of drawing a blank right now.”

“Well, he’s a nerd.” Athena shrugged. Somehow speaking ill of her brother even if she was mad at him felt wrong. Even if she hadn’t said anything other than the truth. Ariana was permitted to make her own conclusions. If her brother had gotten to Ariana first he would have painted her in a far crueler light. She was being honest - and wasn’t that just what her brother always asked of her? She found that she wasn’t hungry anymore. Apparently inviting people to The Red Dragon spelled disaster on some level. First with Winston and now with Ariana - though at least the latter- at least the present situation was one she’d brought on herself. “Good. You - you do still look good. Your hair, I mean.” I’m going to have to shower and throw out whatever I’m wearing - like before, after the run. In case mom somehow can pick up that I’ve been spending too much time around a werewolf. Willingly. “Yeah.” She bit her lip. “Besides, there’s some things that should be discussed in private.” Part of her thoughts crossed to how easy it still might be to get the other girl alone. “Or, you know, at least not in the middle of a restaurant.” You shouldn’t offer this to anyone, much less a wolf. “I mean, it’s not like we’re not going to not see one another. I’d like it if you didn’t drop out of that. Plus, not really sure how we’d explain that, since we’ve been having a great time and the kids love you.” She raised an eyebrow - a small smile beginning on her lips though not present as it had been in the beginning of their dinner.

The comment on Rio being a nerd didn’t bring Ariana any comfort. She knew he was estranged from his family, which could mean a good many things, but it didn’t sit well that he’d kept so much from her. Clearly, she knew nothing about either of them and she just laid her own story out bare for them. At least Athena had been honest. She didn’t like what she did, but some degree of trust had been maintained. “Right,” she said hoarsely. Her hand slowly rose to touch the ends of her own hair. Athena still thought she looked good and she wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t see it anymore. Not knowing she was an active hunter. They could be friendly, but she couldn’t see herself with someone who believed in killing others she cared for. “Yeah,” she choked out, “Yours too.” The air only seemed to get thicker and thicker and her palms were sweaty in her lap now. She just couldn’t shake away the anger that Rio hadn’t told her about all of this. She’d been open with him from the get go and something didn’t feel right. “That’s true.” Ariana, you have to use your words. None seemed to come. As she spoke of camp, she assured, “Oh yeah, I love the kids-- I wouldn’t quit camp just because of this. You were honest with me-- that’s…” More than she could say about Rio. The thought that maybe she’d just given out the information that was needed to kill her and Celeste wouldn’t go away. “Rio not telling me isn’t sitting right with me. He’s--” She swallowed back the sob in her throat. “I should go. I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling so good now. It’s not-- It’s not you, okay? Thank you for telling me, really.” She gathered up her bag and tried to remember to take deep breaths like Celeste had always reminded her.

It would have figured that the first time she found someone who seemed to truly care for her - well, outside of Winston, that was - that person had to go and be not human. Athena brushed her own hair to the side just as Ariana did. Why did this feel weird? She wasn’t supposed to feel remorse for anyone other than human beings or human beings with extra abilities - who were still technically human. “Thank you.” She’d known that there would be a shift, but instead of being afraid of her she was nearly silent and Athena felt a new sort of weird feeling. “The kids love you too.” She said. That much was completely honest. Ariana had a certain sort of magnetism with the. Even Sasha had grown incredibly fond of her. “I think honesty is good to attempt when possible.” When useful. “That makes sense. He just doesn’t like to talk about it, so I guess that’s why. Though he should’ve, if you two are hanging out so much.” Ariana stood up and Athena bit her lip. Why do I want to comfort her? Her hand found the knife again and she held it tight. This would be better to use. “You’re welcome.” She watched Ariana leaving. Called the waiter over and asked for the check. Spun the dull knife around in between her fingers before stabbing it into the chicken. She wasn’t hungry for leftovers anyways.

[peakysabrina]

Heaven

How Jeremiah met his wife, how they got married, and the story of how Isaiah was born.

TW for miscarriages, sorry!!

Jeremiah Jesus had tried to become a priest before, but because of the reasons stated above, had been pushed out of the noble calling of God. Time and time again, he had gone to the seminar, and had done what all the white boys had done, better than them, and was still rejected with a snare and everything short but a kick to the backside. Somehow, his devotion to God wasn't good enough, his oratory wasn't good enough, and him as a man wasn't enough. Every time, he knew very well why it had been: because he was black, his parents were from the Caribbean, and he didn't fit the Church of England's image of a good shepard for their sheep. The sheep, better known as citizens, weren't big on other ethnicities, and a coloured pastor could drive them away from church, and away from the brain-wash that went on inside such venerable buildings.

So Jeremiah Jesus gave up, tired of wasting his time studying the Bible and the great Classic masters of oratory, given that it was of no use. Instead, he decided it would be much better to make it on his own, to go off into the world, make his money, find a job, one that he could excel at, despite the colour of his skin, or the place of origin of his parents. The first step to make that happen was to go around to the shops, to try and find someone who would employ him, even if it was in the backrooms, or warehouses. No one agreed, so Jeremiah moved on to the farms and factories around Birmingham. There, in the small property of Jacob Steadman, he found what he was looking for: a steady position as farm hand, doing whatever was needed.

The Steadman family was composed of seven people: the father, Jacob, who was married to Lucinda; the eldest daughter, Lucy; and four younger siblings, named Jacob Jr., Alphonse (who went by Alphie), Henrietta and Julius. They had a couple more men on the property, who mostly dealt with the produce the family sold at nearby markets. The Steadmans weren't rich, but they lived comfortably, which allowed them a bit more independence, and an education for their children. The eldest one, a beautiful red-haired girl in her early twenties, was especially gifted, and wrote stories for her younger brothers and sisters, which she also illustrated with all the care in the world. She was, unfortunately, prone to bouts of coughing fits, with no apparent reason, and the fairy-tale sessions were often interrupted by these moments, much to her sadness.

"Hey. You need any help?" the same Lucy came asking, carrying a tin full of water and a plate of food. "You've been at it for hours, eh?"

"It's my job" Jeremiah replied, looking up from the car tyre he was trying to patch up, and seeing that blessed apparition, made even more welcome by the food she was holding. "I will accept some lunch, though"

"Yeah, thought so" she replied, chuckling and handing him the plate and the water. "How's it going with dad's car? That tyre's busted"

"Busted is... an understatement. You feeling better today? I heard you coughing yesterday"

"I uh... I'm better, I think, yeah" Lucy sighed, obviously not one bit better, but refusing to look weak, even in front of the help. "To be honest with you, I don't think I'll ever get any better. But that's just my opinion"

"Have you been to a doctor?" Jeremiah looked up from his plate, still chewing a bit of meat. "Nothing they can do about it?"

"I've been to a couple doctors, and none of them know what the hell is going on. Shit, sorry, shouldn't curse, you're religious" Lucy let out, apparently unaware that it hadn't been offensive, but rather funny, to hear someone so proper speaking like that.

"No problem, I'm not that religious" he assured, observing closely the process of his boss's daughter crouching, and then sitting on the ground. If he was asked, a lady sitting on the ground, talking to the coloured help would be much more scandalous than all the cursing in the world. But he liked how pratical she was, how she didn't let her obvious beauty and good manners get in the way of doing what she wanted to do. "I have a chair somewhere over there, if you want"

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks" was the quick answer, accompanied by a shrug. "I'm sorry if I kept you awake with my coughing"

"You didn't. I couldn't sleep anyway"

"Anything worrying you?" Lucy kindly asked, taking a nearby wrench and playing with it, throwing it in the air a couple of times, and catching it with precision. "Well, anything I can help you with? Even if it's just talking"

"On second thought, maybe it was your coughing" Jeremiah joked, finishing his lunch and taking a big swig of water. "No, it's nothing. I was reading, and I lost track of time"

"I know that feeling. You know what I was reading? That one author you showed me, Jane Austen. Really like her stuff" Lucy informed, dreamily looking into the distance. Truth be told, Jeremiah was terrified of her when she looked like that, terrified of the way it made him want to lunge forward and kiss her. It was unspokenly agreed between the two that whatever the thing between them was, it was friendship, and just that: friendship.

"Glad you like it, I came across some stuff of hers through a friend of mine in town" he replied, clearing his throat, and coming back to reality. "His dad knew her dad, or so he says"

"That's interesting. What about you, what were you reading?"

"Do you even need to ask?" he laughed, drinking what was left from the water. "I go back to it a couple times a year, to make sure I haven't forgotten anything. Helps me keep my mind in the right place"

"Fair enough, Jimmy. No shame in that" she responded, using that name that only she was allowed to use. She didn't like the name Jeremiah for some reason, didn't like the way it sounded; but Jimmy sounded good, it suited him. Reading the Bible and losing track of time because of it also suit him, and Lucy was very aware that it was just one of the manners in which he was perfect, in which he made her fall for him.

"You've read the Bible, haven't you?"

"Might have... when I went to Sunday School. Ah, and on Sundays, they always read a bit, don't they? Can't say I remember reading it from start to finish in one go, though" she admitted, tapping her fingers on her lips as she gave the subject some thought. "I prefer novels, You know the ones, where the girls have pretty dresses, and always end up marrying the man of their dreams and living in a mansion"

"That what you want to do?"

"Pfff" Lucy let out, a strange and humorous sound that made Jeremiah laugh along. "I don't really care about dresses, and mansions are too much maintenance. As for the man of my dreams, he knows where I live, he can come get me if he wants" she added, looking down, and then up at him. Another good thing about Lucy was this: she knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. The ball was in his court, so to speak, and there was no religion that could provide an answer.

That conversation was the latest of many they had shared, and hints had been coming all along. But it was all in good fun, a bit of light flirting between friends. There had never been anything like that very particular jab, and it wasn't mistakeable for banter. So, it was time to make a decision: to stick to friendship, maintain everything as it was, and resort to reading the Holy Book to drown the noise of his very obvious attraction; or to go ahead and go get the girl he wanted. It was true: he knew where she lived, and knew which room was hers. It had to be the one which still had light coming from underneath the door. She had to be awake, and alone, for them to be able to talk through what they needed to talk through. As softly as he could, he knocked, and the door opened instantly, like she had been waiting. Knowing Lucy, she probably had been, although she would not admit to it.

"Thank God, I was starting to think you hadn't gotten my hint" Lucy scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Took you long enough"

"It wasn't an open invitation, was it? What happens if your parents come around to check on you? And what if they hear us?" Jeremiah asked in return, fully regretting what he had done. It would mean being dismissed on the spot, and he couldn't really afford to go back to his parents' house. "I can't lose my job"

"You won't, don't think about it" she guaranteed, going around Jeremiah and locking the door. "See? They can't come in"

"What does it mean, then? What do you want to do?" he asked, bearing in mind that a decision had to be made, and the sooner the better, before someone caught them.

"Do I need to know? Do you really need an answer to that?" Lucy asked, biting her lip repeatedly, obviously nervous for being put on the spot.

"If I didn't need to know where we stand, I wouldn't have come here, now would I?" Jeremiah asked, losing a bit of his cool. It was in his nature to need everything decided, and defined. The idea of puting them both at risk for nothing was annoying, to say the least. "I came here for nothing, wasn't it, Lucy?"

Her reaction was completely unexpected: instead of pouting, or retaliating, Lucy simply walked up to him, placed her hands on his neck, and pulled him down, kissing him on the lips. For good measure, she took Jeremiah's own palms and placed them on her waist, where he could feel the warmth of her skin through the cotton of the nightgown.

"Would this be considered nothing?" Lucy asked, breaking the kiss but making sure Jeremiah's hands stayed where they were. "Because if so..." she continued, taking his writs, and making his hands move to her thighs, and then up, and up, until the nightgown was over her head and on the floor. "...would this be better?"

For once, Jeremiah was speachless, and torn between looking at her face, or looking down at her body, which was wrong, but pretty damn irresistible. He didn't know whether she was aware of what she had done, but it didn't seem to be a problem when he bent over to kiss her, taking her into his arms without thinking too much about it.

After that night, things only escalated: from sex, to talks of marriage, and to a proposal, done beneath the apple trees on a warm Spring day, complete with the best ring the sparse money Jeremiah could buy. At the same time, he'd started making efforts to find a new job, whereas Lucy had gotten employment at the Birmingham library, in hopes that some day, they could tell her parents about their engagement. Once that was out of the way, they could get married, and move into their own house, living their lives, building a family, having a good existence. Luckily, there had been an opening for Bible Studies teacher, under mysterious circumstances, but that were probably connected with the imprisonment of the deacon. Hence, it was time: Lucy's parents had to know.

"Mom and dad, me and Ji... I mean, me and Jeremiah have something we need to tell you" Lucy started, getting her mother's attention, while her father kept on reading the newspaper. "We're engaged to be married"

"You're what? To... to each other?" mrs. Steadman asked, absolutely caught off guard.

"Yeah" her daughter responded, showing her mother the engagement ring.

"No"

"What?"

"I said no" mr. Steadman chimed in, lowering the paper, and looking at his daughter with the utmost disgust. "You are not marrying a coloured man, let alone a poor one"

"Excuse me, sir, but I don't think the colour of my skin has anything to do with this subject. I love your daughter, I am prepared to offer her the best life I possibly can" Jeremiah protested, forcing Lucy to take his arm, to pacify him a little.

"Look son, I have no problem with the colour of your skin, but I am not letting my daughter marry you" Jacob replied, as if he was simply commenting on the weather outside. "You have no idea how people will treat her if she marries you"

"I'm not unaware of that, dad, I know how stupid people are; I don't care about any of that, I'm prepared to deal with whatever is thrown at me. Jeremiah asked me to marry him, I said yes, and that's that. You can be by my side on my wedding day, or not. That's your call" Lucy stated, beggining to feel the burn of anger on her throat. "He's the man I want, he's the man I love, and that's that on that"

"Out" Jacob simply stated, his eyes as clear as day, pointing to the door. He didn't even raise his voice, but the message as loud: he wanted the both of them out of his house, and he wanted them to go without missing a second. As for his wife, she just lowered her head and went back to sewing, pursing her lips but saying nothing. It seemed like the only one affected by that demand was Lucy, whose eyes filled with tears, and fists clenched. "I said out, didn't you hear me? Out of my sight, both of you. And don't you dare come back"

Matter of fact, they didn't. Lucy packed her clothes and some books she'd bought with her own money, wrote a letter to her siblings explaining why she had to leave, and was out of her childhood home before dinner time. As for her fiancé, a completely distraught Jeremiah, there was not much to be said: the guilt he felt in his heart was so overwhelming he wanted to simultaneously punch Jacob Steadman and hug Lucy, to cry on her shoulder. It was her spirit that never waivered, it was her that got him out of the property her parents owned, and it was her who found them a room to rent while they saved up for an apartment or house of their own. Their landlord, Arthur Shelby, was a strange man, but his wife, named Elizabeth, was an angel, who looked after the young couple with as much care as she did her own child, a lanky, sickly-looking boy named after his father.

As for their wedding, there was not much to be said: there was the priest, the bride, the groom, and two witnesses, namely Elizabeth Shelby and her husband, who signed the paper with a disgruntled look on his face. It wasn't much of a party, but then again it didn't need to be, as Lucy and Jeremiah didn't have the means to provide one. The bride had a bouquet of wildflowers, and a simple everyday dress, but her groom was so in love it didn't matter. To Jeremiah, she was an angel, something from high heavens.

"... I now pronounce you husband and wife. Mr. Jesus, you may kiss your bride" the pastor announced, causing both Jeremiah and Lucy to smile at each other, before chastly kissing to the sound of Elizabeth Shelby's subdued clapping, echoing off the walls of the empty church.

"Congratulations, I wish you nothing but happiness, truly" Elizabeth wished, hugging Lucy tightly and patting Jeremiah's shoulder. As for her husband, he was already outside, smoking a cigarette and probably trying to make a pass at any woman who passed by. "Now would be the time to leave your bouquet at the altar and make a wish. I'll wait outside"

"Oh, I forgot" Lucy let out, turning to the altar and trying to think of a wish. "You have anything you want to wish for?" she asked Jeremiah, who in all honesty, was just happy to be alive and married to the girl he loved.

"Not really, I'll leave the wish to you" he replied, accompanying her back to the altar, where a figure of Jesus Christ on the cross looked over them.

"Well, I wish for..." she started, a sweet smile on her features. "I wish for a happy and healthy baby. And since my husband doesn't want to make his own wish, I'll take his and ask for some te ability to carry my child safely"

"That's a good wish" Jeremiah replied, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Both of them are, really. Can't wait to have a little one with you"

"Me either. You reckon it will take long to... should we be talking about this in church, though?" Lucy laughed, putting down the simply bouquet of flowers and taking Jeremiah's hand as they exited the temple. "I feel bad now, for talking about baby-making at church"

"God doesn't care, don't worry" Jeremiah assured, as they walked over to the Shelbies, who were waiting for them. "Can't wait, though"

In the end, it did take a fair bit for a baby to make its appearance in their life. Elizabeth Shelby had four children by the time Lucy Jesus managed to carry a pregnancy to term. Her disappointments had taken its toll on the girl, who became more and more fragile as time went by. Her coughing became constant, and her body slowly started giving in. However, Lucy had gathered every bit of strength she had, and, in 1905, Isaiah was born. He was healthy, beautiful, and strong, much stronger than his mother. In due time, the little boy had to say goodbye to his father, who departed for war, and then, to his mother, who couldn't survive another miscarriage. Elizabeth Shelby and Polly Gray, her sister-in-law, raised the Jesus boy, who grew up playing with the Shelby boys, and who would, in time, become one of them.

The second part of this (focused on Isaiah) is on AO3

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title : waiting a full moon cycle

Author : @bidoofgodofdestruction

For : @sawitart

Rating/warnings : I’d say a T. Warning for animal death and injuries

Prompt : Red Riding Hood AU Hinata is a butcher that met wolf Komaeda (cursed) in the forest while hunting and Hinata took care of him. Hinata must be careful not to let other people find Komaeda otherwise he will be killed

Authors notes : Haha, furry Hinata. This ended up not being like red riding hood at all, but well, the description isn’t like red riding hood at all. Also, I completed the first draft in like a day, how awesome is that? But I hope this is sufficient.

The shop after closing time had a kind of melancholy, the way the lights were out and it was official, that nobody would be coming anymore. But he didn’t have time to think about that. Instead he went to back room with some leftover meat for the day, and placed it in front of the fair, white haired wolf, sitting with a patient expression.

“Ah… I don’t deserve this hospitality.” The wolf said “Not a pest like me.”

“Well you can complain about it…” Hajime glared “Or you can eat.”

“Well. It’d be impudent to turn it down!” He laughed “So of course I’ll eat.”

“Then go ahead. Eat.” He motioned to the pile.

He complied, and Hajime rested his chin in his hand. This wolf was an odd case. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started with a cold night, and a gun in his hand as he walked through the forest, eyes peeled for any sort of animal that could end up in his shop as a way to net profit.

The sound of rustling in the bushes made his instincts kick into action, aiming the device. There was nothing for a second, tension you could cut with a knife, but then he heard a speaking voice.

“Ah… looks like this is the end. What terrible luck.”

Wait, was that a person?

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He put the gun down and began to push away bits of shrubbery to see who he was apologizing to. He couldn’t believe he almost shot a person! Well, in his defense, what were they even doing rustling around in the bushes but still! He’d have to give them a warning, maybe help them home and- there was a wolf.

“Ahhhh!” He jumped back brandishing his gun again “W-where did you-“

“Are you surprised? I guess that’s to be expected.” The wolf… he spoke. The same voice from before he heard. He was talking. He was talking.

“Why can you talk?!” He shouted.

“Well, probably because I started out as a human, not a wolf.” He commented.

“Wh-wh-wha…” this defied logic! This was absurd! He could hardly process it!

“… If you want to kill me, you should go ahead and do it.”

Part of him was comprehending the idea to put a bullet in this wolf, and never having to think about this encounter again, able to write this off as a figment of his imagination but…

I started out as a human, not a wolf

He lowered the gun and sighed.

“Follow me.” ~~~~~~~~~~

“I apologize. Because of me your hunting had to be cut short.”

“I-I don’t care about that!” Hajime shouted “You said you were a human before! Is that true?”

“Yes… unfortunately, I accidentally stumbled into a witches garden, and she wasn’t one to listen to explanations…”

“Oh great. Talking wolves, and witches exist.” He rubbed his temples “Anything else I should know?”

“Well… the curse can only be lifted by true loves kiss.”

“By what?!”

The wolf suddenly burst into laughter. “Just kidding of course.”

“Oh…” Well you couldn’t blame him for falling for that temporarily with all the other things he’d heard in the past few seconds… “Well, what does cure it then?”

“Well, apparently this just lasts for a  month.” The wolf said tilting its head “I was just changed the other day though. So I have a long time to spend in this form.”

“Okay. Here’s the deal.” Hajime pointed “I’ll let you stay the night and offer up some food. Okay?”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” The wolf shook his head “Not without repayment!”

“Fine then! You can help me with my hunting tommorow.” He offered “Then you don’t have to feel like you’re taking advantage of me or anything.”

“Hm… I guess I can accept that answer.” The wolf nodded “Should I tell you my name then?”

“Huh?”

“If you’re going to take me in, you should at least know my name.” He replied “Do you want to hear it?”

“Oh. Yeah, probably.”

“Then allow me.” He nodded holding up a paw “My name is Nagito Komaeda.”

“Hajime Hinata.” He introduced back taking the outstretched paw with his hand and shaking it up and down “Nice to meet you.” ~~~~~~~~~~

“I can smell something over there.” Nagito said, motioning his head toward a clearing. Hajime took a deep breath and sharpened his gaze, to a duck taking a stroll. He aimed his gun, and then a loud crack took through the air, and the duck was laying motionless on the ground.

“Excellent shot Hajime!”

“Whatever. You’ve fulfilled your end of the deal and I’ve fulfilled mine. Now is there any friends or family I can take you too?”

“Oh. No, not at all.” He shook his head.

“They don’t have to be close by. I should at least get you to someone.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Nagito said “I don’t think there’s a single person in the world who wants me around.”

“Y-You’re kidding.”

“Sorry. This must be a true burden to-“

“Then you can stay with me for the full month.” He burst out.

“… Excuse me?”

Did he seriously say that? What was he thinking.

“Well I mean, today went well.” He said reasoning with himself just as much as the other “Having a hunting partner could be useful, and I don’t want you to go out on your own. You could die.”

Nagito stayed quiet for a moment. Then…

“Hahaha. I really got you there, didn’t I?”

“What?” His eyes widened “Wait, did you lie to me?”

The wolf remained quiet. Then… he just started walking off.

“Hey! Answer my question!” He shouted.

“I’ve said too much to you.”

“So are you lying or not?!”

He didn’t respond.

“URRRRRGH!” He ran to block his path “Look, I can’t have you on my conscious knowing you possibly died in the wild, so give it straight to me.”

“My, that’s a tall thing to say. You just murdered another animal.”

“Well, not a human!” He shook his head “I can’t just let you wander.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’m unsure about a lot of things, so I might be unsure about this, but at the very least give me a chance.” He pleaded “It’s all I can do and I need to do something or else this is just going to haunt me.”

“… In other words, you won’t give up no matter what I do.” He sighed “Well, I guess it’s out with it then. No, I don’t have anybody to go to.”

“Fine. Then stay with me.” He offered “Please?”

“… Fine.” ~~~~~~~~~

He started gaining more spoils of the hunt with Nagito around, which was good because he would put quite a bit of it into feeding him. Nagito would always insist he didn’t deserve it, but he didn’t know what he expected him to do when he said that.

“Say, Hajime.” Kazuichi smiled to him one day “Got a lady you got your eye on?”

“No…?” He raised an eyebrow “Why would you think that?”

“Well, I’ve noticed you getting nervous if anyone goes near the back room.” He stood on his tip-toes “Got a little shrine for her in there?”

“Wait, does that mean you have a shrine to Sonia in your house?”

“… No.”

It sounded like he did. He should never overestimate Kazuichi Souda.

“Well, whatever!” He shouted “If it’s not that, then what is it?”

“I’m not getting nervous about the back room! Your imagination is just going wild.”

“Uh-uh! I know something is up!”

Hoo boy. Maybe he should’ve just gone along with his shrine idea.

“Never mind. Just leave.”

“Is it a note of me doing something embarrassing? Huh?”

Hajime pushed him out the door.

“Oh come on! Is it?”

“Goodbye Kazuichi.” Hajime said as he slammed the door and sighed then waited a moment. He switched the sign on the door to closed. Then he went to the back room.

“Come on Nagito. Let’s go home.” ~~~~~~~

Sleep wouldn’t take over, no matter what he did, so he looked over at Nagito, already sound asleep. You know, his fur looked so soft to the touch. Large tufts sticking out all over him, so he was buried in a coat of pure fluff. Hajime reached a hand out and started petting.

“Mm… Hajime?”

He then became aware of what he was doing and pulled back, his face turning red.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking! It just looked so…” he turned away “Sorry.”

“Having trouble sleeping?”

Hajime sighed and sat up in bed.

“Just… one of those nights.”

“Well, I’ve been able to sleep well.” Nagito commented “Probably because I haven’t had much to do other than sleep since I ended up like this.”

Hajime studied the white wolfs face, so calm and accepting. How did he manage to deal with this absurd situation? He didn’t want it. Yet he had seemed to just take it in stride.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Because… you turned into a wolf! Who just accepts that so casually?”

“True… but a lot of unexpected things have happened to me before.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for now you should focus on getting to sleep.” He did what he thought was the wolf equivalent to a shrug “Good night Hajime.”

“… Good night.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Say Nagito.” Hajime started one day in the woods “Have you ever gone hunting before?”

“Not before I met you, no.” He shook his head “Why?”

“Because… you don’t seem to have a reaction to it.” He said “This kind of stuff is kinda scary isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s repaying the person who took me in, so I don’t allow myself to take issue in it.” He replied “It’s why I grew accustomed to it so quick!”

Wait, that was right. He seemed to already be good at it the first time sniffing out prey, despite just being turned. Was he really working himself that hard?

“Hajime? Are you thinking of something?”

“Yeah…” Hajime bent down to meet him eye to eye “Are you tired?”

“No, not at all.”

Hajime didn’t want to press but he didn’t fully believe that statement. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That night, when Nagito’s asleep, Hajime lifted him over onto the bed and draped him with his own blanket.

“Get a good nights sleep.” He whispered “Please.”

The next morning when he woke up, Nagito was peering at him with a curious gaze.

“You know I shed right?”

Hajime rolled his eyes “Good morning Nagito.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He really was good company. Hajime hated to admit it, but the guy made him crack a real smile every so often with little things.

The way he bobbed his head up and down.

His melodious voice, sometimes used for singing.

The way he always found a way to say something nice about him.

That’s why it was so frustrating whenever he talked badly about himself.

“Can you stop?” He asked one time that it happened.

“Stop what?”

“Talking like you’re worthless. You are worth something. To me.”

“You hardly know me.”

“I live with you!”

“You’ve lived with me less than a month.”

“True but… we’ve spent plenty of time together. Come on.”

“I’m not worth getting upset over.” Nagito laid down “So you should stop.”

“Wait, Nagito! Ugh!” He rubbed his temples. Why did he have to be so difficult “Can’t you just stop?”

“… I don’t think so.”

Hajime sighed and began studying the dust on the floor as if that would give him a hint on what to do. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Moonlight poured through the window, and Hajime took time to reach out and let it illuminate him. It was a full moon tonight… wasn’t that the kind wherein it was usually associated humans turned into wolves? Well, usually this process took one month. That meant they were waiting in the time of a full moon.

“It’s lovely isn’t it?” Nagito asked “I truly admire beautiful things like a full moon.”

“Beautiful things…” in all honesty, he never took the time to find he would call something beautiful, but looking into the night sky… “Yeah. I think the moon is pretty beautiful.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day off, he left Nagito home and came back with a book.

“Ah! That’s one of my favorites!” Nagito exclaimed “You’re going to love it! It’s so inspiring!”

“Oh… would you like to read it too?”

“I’m afraid in this state it’s rather hard for me to be holding onto a book.”

“Then come sit next to me. You can tell me when to turn the page.” He patted the ground next to him “Come on.”

“Why would you want that?”

“Just because.”

Nagito eyed him for a few moments, but he accepted, walking over and leaning against Hajime, making him feel the soft fur on his side.

“Go ahead.”

Hajime smiled and opened the book. ~~~~~~~~~~

It was a pretty cheesy novel, punctuated with long speeches from the heroes how they should never give up hope, and that they will always prevail. Well, it didn’t hurt to have something positive in your life he supposed.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Nagito asked the day they read the final page “It’s so inspiring! So wonderful! Truly, a masterpiece.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Hajime shrugged “But it was a good read.”

“Wouldn’t go that far?” Nagito repeated “It was a truly wonderful tale.”

He seemed to really love the story’s positivity.

“You know, if you’re going to be basking in this, be more so about yourself.”

“Hm?”

“You’re always saying you’re lowly or filth or whatever, yet you love stories about keeping your head up.” He put a hand on his head “You deserve to be happy about yourself.”

“I really don’t.” He sighed “Those heroes are in their own league. Far above mine.”

“Quit saying that! You’re just affirming it to yourself!” He groaned. Maybe he was trying something futile or- or maybe he was just trying to expect too big results out of this. Maybe he didn’t have to go so big “How about this? If you can’t stop entirely can you start with just one day?”

“You Really aren’t going to let this go are you?”

“Please. One day. See how it is. Won’t you?” He asked “It’s almost been a month, and I’d like to go a day without hearing it.”

“… I’ll try.” He sighed “If you’re asking it of me.”

That was something. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Hajime was buried under a pile of boxes.

“It was just an unlucky break. I’m fine.” He told Nagito when explaining the situation “They must’ve not been able to support their weight anymore.”

“An unlucky break…” Nagito repeated. ~~~~~~~~~~

Hajime woke up the next morning and couldn’t find Nagito anywhere.

“Nagito?!” He shouted running outside “Nagito!”

Dammit, did he leave? Why would he…

“Nagito!” He screeched at the top of his lungs “Nagito!”

He ran out into the forest his eyes darting about trying to find him, but nothing was appearing. Then he saw rustling bushes.

“Nagito…?”

Well, it was a wolf. Just not Nagito. The creature pounced on him immediately, and Hajime felt fear wash over him, with no gun, nothing to do, except let himself become a meal.

Then the wolf was off of him and Hajime could see why. Nagito had attacked it.

“Nagito?”

The two wolves continued in their fight, until the one that had jumped him took a bite out of Nagito’s leg. He promptly fell over.

“No!” Hajime grabbed a stick and ran at the wolf with all his might, getting it on the ground, then plunging the thorn into it. It let out a cry and fell on his side unmoving. Hajime took deep breaths and turned to Nagito. ~~~~~~~~~~~

“Just relax.” Hajime set him down on the bed “It’ll be okay.”

“No it won’t.” Nagito muttered “I was trying to get away.”

“… Oh.” He honestly considered Nagito a friend so hearing that kinda stung. “I’m sorry you didn’t like me enough for something like this to happen.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Nagito replied, and Hajime could see tears in his eyes “It’s far more dangerous for you if I’m around.”

“I… don’t understand what you mean.”

“The reason I don’t have anyone… it’s because I have bad luck. People who get close to me die.”

“Wha- that can’t be possible.”

“So many people have met terrible fates just from being around me. I’ve kept myself isolated for so long so it’d just apply to me, and that’s how I got into this situation in the first place.”

“Nagito…”

“You need to throw me out. Get rid of me. Please.”

“Nagito…” He looked at him solemnly. Did he really believe in luck? “You’re injured. I especially can’t leave you now.”

“Hahaha… this is truly bad luck.” Nagito muttered “I ended up like this so I can’t even get away from you. I’ll be your doom.”

“Nagito, you saved me back there.” He insisted “If you hadn’t shown up I’d be a dead man.”

“But-“

“I can’t pretend I know what’s going to happen but please. Let me take care of you.”

“… Fine.” He sighed “But then I’m getting out of here.”

“Thank you.” Hajime sighed “For being able to share this much with me. I’ll help patch up your leg.”

That was kind of a tall order though since he was no doctor.

“Look, just… breathe okay.” He said one day “The curse should be up soon so… hold on for just a bit.”

Nagito didn’t say anything.

“Say… this bad luck of yours. Can you give me an example?” It wasn’t like he believed in it, but…

“Well… one of the first times… was with my dog.” Nagito said “He died and in exchange my parents took me on a vacation as consolation. But the carriage crashed. I was the only survivor. And I got a massive inheritance in exchange. I always get something in the end. As if that makes up for it.”

“Oh…” He whispered. He didn’t know what to say to that tragedy.

“It’s become commonplace to me. People so much as coming into close proximity die.” He murmured “Who knows? With how much you’re caring for me, fate probably already has a death planned out for you.”

“Nagito… I was put in the most danger today when you weren’t with me. But then when you came in you saved me. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“It means I prolonged the inevitable.” He muttered.

Hajime sighed as he looked at Nagito’s injury still bleeding like crazy.

“I can’t say I know what to do. I never know.”

“It’s okay…” Nagito closed his eyes “It’s…”

“Nagito? Stay with me!” He desperately started shaking him, not even noticing the glow emanating from him and how his features were melding from that of a wolf to a man “Nagito! Please!”

Nagito opened his eyes again, now looking at himself, and his leg… it had a large cut, but it was slowly closing itself…

“Well won’t you look at that?” He laughed “I guess reverting back to my previous self means going back to before I was injured huh?”

Hajime didn’t have any words to say to him.

“Well, anyways I better leave now. I’ve done enough. I-“ he began to stand, but as soon as he did he was falling forward.

“Ah!” Hajime caught him and lowered him to the ground “Be careful. You might not be used to walking on two legs again yet.”

“Ah… how horribly unlucky.” Now tears were running down his face “I’m still being helped by you even after the curse wore off.”

“Nagito, you can stay here.” Hajime insisted “I don’t know if I’ll die, or you’ll get injured again, but I want to stand by you.”

“That’s pretty foolish of you to say Hajime.”

“I know… but you’re my… you’re my friend. And I’m not abandoning a friend in need.”

“… Are you sure?”

Hajime smiled “Yes.”

He’d wait as many full moons as it took for Nagito, and whatever happened, he’d be ready.

[ssnakey-b]

Cowboy Bebop Retrospective: Asteroid Blues

WARNING! SPOILERS AHEAD!

Hello, everybody! Welcome to the first post of the Cowboy Bebop retrospective! And since I am doing this in chronological order, let’s start with the very first episode: Asteroid Blues.

Synopsis:

The episode, and thus the entire show, opens with a black-and-white flashback sequence. Aside from the distant ringing of bells and the minimalistic tune of a music box, it is silent.

During a cold open (the only one in the series, if memory serves, and if it’s not, it certainly is a rarity), we see the main character walk solemnly in a surprisingly old-looking district considering the show is set in future space colonies, followed by footage of him involved in a massive firefight, during which he is apparently injured as blood can been flowing on his face, the scene being intercut with footage of a rose in a rain puddle, the very same one that can be seen in the header, said image slowly gaining colours. Once the scene ends, we suddenly cut to this:

With the intro over and done with, we then turn to the Bebop itself and are properly introduced to the first two of our main characters: Spike Spiegel and Jet Black, the man with the most on-the-nose name in the universe. Spike is training his sweet martial arts moves, and stops when Jet calls him for either lunch or dinner (it’s hard to tell when they’re in space).

Jet briefs Spike on an interesting bounty , El Mariachi from Despera- I mean Asimov Solensan, a drug pusher, bank robber, murderer and all-around stand-up citizen hiding out in Tijuana, on the run from both the police and the mob. Which is the name of an asteroid, not the Mexican city. Get it, though? Asimov? Because this is a sci-fi show?

Meanwhile, Spike complains that his chinjao rosu has no meat in it. He starts listening again after Jet reminds him that the impressive list of bills they have as a result of Spike’s impulsiveness is the very reason they can’t afford meat in the first place.

However, even after that, Spike isn’t interested in going after Solensan, arguing that TIjuana sucks. But once Jet brings up that you can find some of the best meat around, Spike is suddenly down with his plan.

And so they’re off to Tijuana, where we are introduced to another vital staple of the show:

Yay, it’s the three old men! The guys who always seem to cross the Bebop crew somehow yet never actually have anything to do with the plot! Also, to this day, I still have it in my headcanon that the one in the baseball cap is an elderly Ash Ketchum, and nobody can convince me otherwise.

They do what they do best, which is argue, until Asimov walks in, accompanied by his lovely and pregnant wife, Katerina.

They order drinks, but it quickly becomes obvious that it’s not what they’re actually there for and before long, Asimov discreetly draws a vial of some strange purple liquid with a thin red strip inside it from under his coat and shows it to the bartender. By the way, I love how it shines despite the fact that it makes no sense considering the way the scene is lit. Let’s not forget, this may be one of the more realistic examples of the medium, but Cowboy Bebop very much still is an anime.

The two of them go to the back, where it is revealed that the drug is called Bloody Eye and is apparently very sought after and very expensive (at least “real” Bloody Eye, implying that there are cheaper fake alternatives). Meanwhile, gangsters pull over and get ready to attack. Meanwhile, the bartender insists that Asimov demonstrate use the Bloody Eye on himself to prove it’s the real deal. Through a POV shot, we are shown that the drug heightens reflexes while making it feel like time is slowing down and also giving your sight a dramatic red tint.

The gangsters attack, shooting the place up and murdering an innocent pinball machine (RIP). Asimov and Katerina, however, easily manage to fight them off, the Bloody Eye even allowing Asimov to literally dodge bullets.

And providing us with beautiful visuals.

While this is going on, Spike is consulting an old Native American shaman sitting by a bunch of discarded electronics, as you do, who tells him where to find “the red-eyed coyote” and tells Spike that he will meet a woman who will try to kill him. He also sees death after that, with Spike dropping hints about his own backstory when he says he already died once, and it already was because of a woman.

This guy is called Laughing Bull, by the way. Evidently because of his jovial disposition.

Jet finds the bar, or rather what’s left it after the shoot-out. Two more gangsters arrive, giving him the opportunity to knock one out and get the other to tell him what he knows about Asimov.

While stopping to refuel his fish, the Swordfish, Spike unknowingly meets Asimov in a dingy bathroom, then Katerina outside. She’s carrying a big bag of groceries and Spike pulls the old “bump into them to steal their shit” trick, grabbing some of her food while pretending to help her pick it up, establishing that Spike has pickpocketing skills.

When she figures it out, Katerina isn’t amused at first but actually ends up being a bit impressed once he reveals just how much stuff he managed to steal without her noticing.

You know it’s a well written show when it can honestly make stealing food from a pregnant woman look whimsical.

He gives it back and apologizes, explaining he was starving. They start having a nice chat, where we get more character development. Spike explains he’s been flying the Swordfish around for 10 years and hails from Mars. Katerina seems to have a very idealized of that planet. She dreams of leaving Tijuana to move there, as she believes that living there is a guarantee for an idyllic life. Spike replies that it’s true... if you’ve got money.

Katerina says she and her husband should be able to live there happily, then. One of those silences that speaks louder than words settles, as Spike figures it out (assuming he wasn’t just putting on a show up until now) and asks her if she and Asimov truly intend to move there and spend their life on the run.

Asimov catches him off-guard and starts choking him. He probably would have killed Spike too if it weren’t for Katerina telling him to stop.

Jet finds Spike and tells him he’s giving up. It’s too hot, everyone who goes after Asimov ends up dead. Spike, however, shows that he managed to snatch one of their Bloody Eye vials and fully intends to keep going after them.

And he does! Finding them in a restaurant, he confronts Asimov. An amazingly directed and animated fight scene ensues.

It is broken up when more mobsters show up, both in the air with aircrafts and on the ground with cars. Katerina and Asimov make their escape, but in the middle of all the excitement, a stray bullet grazes Katerina’s belly, which doubtless sends the audience in a cold sweat... until Bloody Eye starts spilling out, revealing she wasn’t pregnant at all and her fake stomach was actually a cache (points for cleverness, wonder if any drug pusher tried that in real life).

Asimov yells at her, screaming that they’re done for if they lose the drugs. At that moment, Katerina seems to come to a horrific realization.

The mobsters don’t stop coming, but Jet saves the day, ramming their cars with his craft, the Hammerhead, whose tip looks like it belongs more on an excavator than on a spacecraft.

Asimov and Katerina escape and Spike is hot on their tail, taking out several mob ships in the process. Spike is getting ever closer to them as they desperately try to run away. They all escape the city and reach space, only for them to be face by a police barrage, literally hundreds of ship ready for them. Stuck between the cops, bounty hunters and the mob and with her husband’ mind and body being swallowed up by dope, Katerina no longer has it in her to keep fighting.

“There will be no honeymoon on Mars. This is the end of the road” she says. Giving her man the mercy of a quick death, she looks a shocked Spike straight in the eyes as she awaits the hail of bullets from the cops.

We cut back to the Bebop. Bookending the episode is Jet cooking. He can’t find Spike in his usual spot though. He finds him in a windowed room, staring longingly into the eternity of space after he finishes training. Spike asks what’s for dinner, and Jet replies “a special chinjao rosu”.

Thoughts:

Ho boy, what a way to start the show. Now, if I’m being honest, this is a fairly run-of-the-mill episode for Cowboy Bebop, but that says more about the quality of the show than it does about that of the episode, because it was great. And while it’s in my opinion not among the best the show has given us, I think it was an excellent first episode.

It represents the show perfectly, everything you need to know about it in terms of tone, style, aesthetics, characters and storytelling is here, which is no doubt why it did such a great job of capturing people’s attention. After you’re done seeing the episode, you know this isn’t your average anime. And indeed, I heard the message loud and clear, especially since my idea of anime at the time, and really TV in general, was stuff like Pokémon and Card Captor Sakura, so needless to say, this blew my mind, especially considering I only check it out to see what this show that took The Simpsons’ slot on the channel was. My 11-year-self* was like “are you even allowed to make stuff this good on TV? Let alone in cartoons?”.

And yeah, I think this is the show that really made me realize that cartoons could be made for an adult audience (as well as 11-year-olds with a taste for things not for his age) and be mature, thought-provoking and immensely emotional. I’m really not sure the show would have been so successful if it didn’t make this good of a first impression.

And make no mistake, it being an “average” episode by Cowboy Bebop’s standards doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its memorable moments, as the image of Katerina floating into space while drugs spill out of her has been stuck in my mind from the very first time I saw it, and it’s still one of the things my mind goes straight to whenever I think of the show.

So yeah, it establishes the first two of the main characters, and while this is by now means the only, let alone the first show to gather its cast over time, I think this is especially nicely done here as the fact that there’s only two of them so far really gives time to develop them well in spite of the episode only lasting about 20 minutes (not counting the ending credit and teaser for the next episode).

Jet being introduced by cooking immediately speaks volume about him, showing that in spite of his massive size and fairly scary appearance, he’s by far the nicest and most restrained one of the group, preferring to stay behind and supervise everything, and enjoying quiet activities, but it also shows he can occasionally be the muscle of the group as well in the couple action scenes he gets.

I’ve seen him described as “fatherly”, and I think that fits him well. An older, stern, physically imposing yet disciplined and calm man, who takes care of the home life and is generally the voice of reason, but does have a sense of humour and can get tough when necessary, mostly to protect the people he cares about.

Spike’s major characteristics are laid out as well. From his physical prowess to his generally laid-back attitude, his sarcastic sense of humour and his nihilism (in a good way, as in he doesn’t think life has any inherent meaning or purpose, but that only means you’re free to give it whatever meaning and purpose you value).

As I alluded to earlier, this first episode also does a great job of giving people a good idea of what to expect in terms of visuals. Thinking about it, this is definitely one of the episodes that falls the furthest on the “western” side of the show (I mean, it’s set in a place called Tijuana, for crying out loud!), but sci-fi elements still pop-up, such as the gates, and I think it was a good idea to introduce them in the first episode in order to make people comfortable with it, as these are definitely one of the harder sci-fi elements in the show, and I’m not sure people would have just gone with it so easily if they’d gotten used to the more realistic aspects of it first.

There’s an especially great moment near the end of the episode that I think illustrates the show’s mixture of western and sci-fi perfectly, as the characters are flying off into space, we see the background quickly shift from the old-fashioned run down city to the vast emptiness of space, with the gates and spacecrafts, in like a second, it really goes to show how these two styles clash yet also merge.

We also get small touches you may not have noticed at first (but your brain did), like having parts of the city being visible almost at an 90 degree angle in the background, the unnatural visual reminding you that in spite of the realism, this IS a sci-fi show.

Another aspect of the show this episode establishes right away is the cultural diversity.

Yes, Cowboy Bebop is very famous for portraying a multitude of cultures and ethnicities, something you didn’t see much in Japanese works of the time (and you still really don’t). The world of Cowboy Bebop frequently features Black people, Middle-Eastern people, Asian people, Native American people (as seen in this very episode), etc... and various people of mixed ancestry. And just look at the above screenshot, where you can see Japanese, Chinese, Arabic, English, Korean and I think I see some Russian and perhaps Thai.

This is something that carries on throughout the show as signs are often translated in many languages, and the announcements at the gates can also be heard in multiple languages. It makes sense when you think about it. People left the Earth to colonise the Solar System, and the earliest settlers would probably be people from all over the world being mixed together. They probably wouldn’t just give up on their cultures, but they’d end up being far closer together than they used to.

By the way, that diversity isn’t just for show and the writers have clearly done their homework as Laughing Bull can be heard calling Wakan Tanka to protect Spike, Wakan Tanka apparently being a spirit (and not just any but “the great spirit”) according to Lakota Sioux beliefs.

Another aspect it shows very well is the atmosphere and tone. It is very dark and heavy in places, but it’s also got some lighter moments. It also displays the show’s affection for tarantinoing. You know, when characters are having dialogue that has nothing to do with the plot and they’re just bullshitting around to add to the general feeling of a scene and the work as a whole?

Now of course, it doesn’t take it to Tarantino’s extremes, and it’s usually in the middle of a scene that is related to the plot, like with Spike complaining that he finds Jet’s lack of beef disturbing while Jet himself is trying to talk business, but it’s nice that it’s there. It’s something love (probably a big part of the reason why I like Tarantino movies so much). I think it adds a lot of character to a work. It makes the world feel much more alive as it shows that the people inhabiting it do have lives outside of the story we’re following.

I’ll take an average story in a world I feel attached to over a carefully crafted one that doesn’t make me care about the world it’s set in. And here, we have a great story set in a world I love, it’s the total package!

Oh yeah, and this is also the first appearance of the Bloody Eye, a very interesting bit of lore, as the drug ends up showing up again and becoming a major plot point later on. I also like the implication that there’s fake Bloody Eye, which is a surprisingly realistic detail for a fantasy drug, as in real life, cheap alternatives to expensive drugs are a thing, and they usually are cut down with all sorts of shit that makes it even worse for your health than the real stuff. Again, there’s a contrast between the very fantastical look of the drug versus the realistic implications of its existence.

Next, I have to mention the visuals because man! I remembered the animation being good, but I never realized it was THIS good. I guess maybe becoming an artist myself has made me gain even more respect and appreciation for this sort of work, but the animation on Cowboy Bebop is still impressive to this day.

The characters and vehicles are pretty much always on model (and indeed, I don’t remember ever seeing a scene that looked off in this show) in spite of being very detailed.

In that regard, some of the shots that I found the most impressive are actually ones of very little importance, like Jet tossing his bell pepper in the pan. Just think for a second of how much of a pain in the ass it must have been to draw several frames of these goddamn peppers, keeping track of which one goes where and making sure their shape and size stays consistent.

Another very impressive one is one Jet arrives to save the day, and we are then treated to a shot of the Hammerhead with Jet inside it slowly tilting downwards. Again, being able to keep all these details consistent, and drawing all these frames at a slightly different angle each time to give the impression of the camera panning, is nothing short of stunning if you have any idea how difficult and time-consuming animation can be.

I heard a big part of the motivation behind Cowboy Bebop was to showcase the studio’s animation abilities, which is why it often has weird trippy scenes and bizarre characters and locations, well mission fucking accomplished, guys!

I also want you to look at the screenshot above because another aspect of this show’s look I always loved is the expressions and body language, being, again, very realistic, but still ever so slightly exaggerated to give it more life. I especially remember this being one of the few shows that often had the characters’ entire jaw move when they talk, not just their mouth. This ended up being a big influence on me as this is how I strive to draw my characters myself. Animated enough to feel intense, but still realistic enough to be relatable.

And as much as I liked anime at the time, I always got annoyed whenever it went super deformed, and I still do, as I usually felt it was trying way too hard to be wacky and ended up ruining its own attempted effect, so it was very refreshing to me to see an anime that kept it believable, but still remembered it was a cartoon, and to take advantage of that fact when they do need to show more dramatic expressions like Asimov’s psycho grin up there.

It’s not just characters either, as we often see parts of the vehicles shake and rattle, and even some details I wouldn’t have thought of but which add a lot, such as a car springing up and down slightly as characters sit in it or exit it. Very very nice attention to detail.

And last but not least, concerning the visuals, yet another thing I love about the show’s aesthetics, and something that helps it feel very grounded, is how almost everything is a bit used up. You have all sorts of little details like scratches on mechanics, cracks on walls, graffiti, posters, dirt, etc... all things that further help make the world feel lived-in, rather than just decoration for a story. They’re like so many scars letting you know that a lot happened there and those who lived to tell the tale have seen some shit.

Now, I also have to bring up the writing. I actually don’t have much to say in the regard. It’s just plain good, and pretty much everything I’ve talked about so far is kind of part of the writing process already, and once again, this first episode does a very good job of letting us know what to expect. Sad moments, happy ones and everything in between.

One thing I will say that never really registered in my mind but that I noticed when re-watching this is that sometimes, we don’t quite know how the characters got where they did and knew where to go, they just kind of show up where they need to be.

But that’s not a bad thing! Because we really don’t need to see how they knew where to go. We can surmise they found some info, followed some trail, or even just made an educated guess on their target’s most likely destination, but to see scene after scene of them tracking their bounty would be pointless, so just having them be there makes the most sense and keep the story flowing (again, keep in mind they only have 20 to 25 minutes per episode).

That’s another thing to keep in mind for any writers out there (including myself): we don’t need to know the exact details of how or why something happened. As long as it doesn’t create plot holes, if we can have a good idea of how they did it, if it makes sense for them to be able to do it, if it doesn’t add anything to either the story, the characters, the lore or the atmosphere, you can skip to what’s important.

And last but certainly not least, there’s the music. I mean... how can you talk about Cowboy Bebop and not talk about the sublime soundtrack by Yoko Kanno and the Seatbelts?

Yet again, this episode sets the mood by showcasing some of the common theme tunes of the show and letting you know that you’re own for lots of western-inspired music and lots of blues, jazz and bebop (who would have thought?).

It all complements the visuals perfectly, and it’s probably not an accident that the show opens with no dialogue or sound effect, but with music, going from the melancholic sounds of a music box to the extremely energetic “Tank!” in the intro, yet another thing highlighting the contrasts of that show.

However, having said that, one thing I noticed through this episode is that, as deeply as it is tied to the show, it doesn’t play all the often. Most of the scenes have no background music. That’s another thing that keeps the show feeling down-to-earth and realistic, and much like with the expressions, it makes the times when it does get stronger all the more powerful.

Trivia / matters of interest:

Couple interesting things I noticed regarding the French dub (which, as I alluded to in my announcement, is excellent, it’s worth noting for anime). I remember that in the English one, Jet describes the food he’s preparing as “bell pepper and beef”, which, you know, is one way to call it, but as I mentioned, the French dub does go the whole hog and gives it its Chinese name, Chinjao rosu, which I feel fits in well with the whole “cultural mixture” thing the show’s got going. Plus, I fele like Jet explicitly mentioning beef makes it sound like he’s just being a dick to Spike.

However, while the French dub is good, it’s not perfect, so we have some weirdness, as Laughing Bull refers to Asimov as “the red-eyed coyote”, which of course alludes to his drug habit, whereas Spike later calls him “the red coyote”, omitting the eye part. Granted, I realize it’s a nitpick and you could easily explain that away as Spike not remembering fully, but I just like “red-eyed” better.

As I mentioned before, Tijuana is a real place and interestingly, this one has a place called Zona Norte, which also exists in the real Tijuana and is a red light district. Guess the settlers who founded this town must have been Tijuana natives.

And that’s it for this first episode. I hope you liked it, thank you very much if you stuck to the end. I realize this was a long read but since this is the first episode and gives me an opportunity to mention recurring elements from the show, I really wanted to cover everything. Future instalments should be shorter. I’m also hard at work on the next part of the FF8 translarison. That’s gonna be a big’un too, so I’m not sure when it’ll be posted, but the screenshots are all done, promise.

You know, this episode was pretty much the perfect average of everything Cowboy Bebop, and yet it was still one of the heavier episodes of the show. We need some levity to clear the air a bit, so thankfully, next time, it’s all about a cute puppy, in Stray Dog Strut!

* I first saw it in the summer of 2000 when it was shown on a channel called Canal +. It was not actually the first time it was aired over here but I do believe this is when it got really popular, as the channel that first broadcast it was a smaller satellite channel, with satellite television not being very big yet at the time.

[princessvicky01]

Part 5 - You need to sit down

Part 5 of ‘Happily ever after’ following Cullen X Annabel lives after the events of trespasser.  

To read from the start click for Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - with several more parts to come! All on AO3

Summary: The first full day the newlyweds spend at Annabel's family home proves to be unforgettable. SFW Fluff. Also features my other main oc Lord Bryan Trevelyan and @inner-muse oc Lady Kelandris <3

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They’re late for breakfast, not that either is complaining about why after the morning of delights they’ve just shared. Even so, Cullen would've rather made a better second impression with Annabel’s brother than he had his first. Entering the small private dining room saved for intimate settings he spies Bryan. He finds it quite remarkable how his eyes, hair and skin tone are startlingly similar to Annabel's and even at a distance, there is no mistaking their kinship. The woman sat next to him, however, stands out, her hair touched by fire, eyes by amethyst, her skin pale with freckles marking out high cheekbones, all above thick pursed lips. She's beautiful, poised and graceful, but the tug of his wife’s small hand puts any desire to explore her further aside.

“Lady Kelandris,” Annabel beams the warmth of her greeting with a sunny smile. “It’s good to see you again…and I hear congratulations are in order.”

There is a tender smile in return as they’re invited to sit. “Bryan said he’d told you, secretly he couldn’t wait for the big reveal,” a sharp but quick smirk passes over Kelandris face before she delicately picks up buttered toast, ignoring the mild scowl of the man by her side.

“I bet, must’ve been difficult to keep it to yourself for so long,” with a cheeky grin Annabel reaches for the scrambled eggs which he brother snatches away like a sullen child. Pouting lightly, she eagerly accepts the toast rack which Kelandris slides across the ivory tablecloth.

The setting is a far cry from the breakfast’s Cullen had been used to growing up, although the behaviour between siblings at least seems familiar. They’d never had a linen tablecloth with embroidered edges, or such a rich selection of meats, bread, fruits or cheese, but even still some of his fondest memories were from being sat around the oak table in his family’s kitchen. His lively siblings exchanging banter and teasing while his parents tried hard to hurry everyone along.

This morning’s meal, however, smacks of courtly intrigue, and already his posture is stiff because of it. He’d presented less than an ideal first impression yesterday and is on high alert to ensure he doesn’t repeat the mistake.

“You’re late,” Bryan’s tone is decidedly cold as he fills his plate. “I wanted to start without you, but apparently that is not suitable etiquette, even between close family, so now we all have to have cold eggs.”

“And you’re extra grumpy,” Annabel leans over, tugging the bowl back. “So, if you’re going to bring up etiquette I suggest you look in the mirror first.”

Bryan scowls further and Cullen’s stomach knots. Ah, nothing like noble politics and sibling rivalry to start your day.

“Apologies, I didn’t sleep well, then was woken up by an awful racket this morning,” Bryan’s eyes drift subtly to his, one eyebrow lifting ever so slightly in suggestion.

Maker’s breath! So, he had heard their amorous acts this morning. Cullen’s heart stutters in his chest.  He feels his skin heat, despite all his will to prevent it and he knows its prickled red under the cold stare of the Lord.

“Strange, I didn’t hear anything,” Annabel continues setting out her breakfast, although from the corner of his eye he notes that her’s glint with a hint of mischief.

“The apologies should be mine, I kept him up into the early hours,” Kelandris's nonchalant tone and dismissive wave of the toast held poised between two delicate fingers makes Cullen falter. Are they all discussing the same thing? He blinks, cheeks and neck flushed red and tries to focus his attention on the meal in front of him rather than anything that may embarrass him further.

“Wedding planning is proving to be a complex task,” she continues, sipping her tea, keeping her expression aloof. Cullen promptly decides to give up trying to understand what’s going on, although he’s figured out one thing, the two opposite are most certainly well suited.

“Wasn’t for us, was it Cullen?”

“Huh?” Blinking he’s forced into the conversation, a place he really doesn’t want to be, and it shows in the way his eyes dart while his mind scrabbles to catch up. “Oh, right, well no, not really. I mean, I did have a plan, but then there was Prince, and Mother Giselle was there. And. So, no, not really. We didn’t need a plan.”

“Sounds rather romantic,” Kelandris lifts her gaze to meet his, bright violet intrigued. “Did Bryan tell you how he proposed?”

“I’m sure they’re not interested-“ Bryan interjects with his hand over hers and a soft smile that apparently wins him no favour.

“Speak for yourself! I’d love to hear about how sulky here went all romantically soppy,” Annabel giggles and Cullen can tell it means trouble. Trouble he best avoid.

“Hmmm, yes, your brother can be quite the old romantic at heart. We were in the secluded flower garden, in the very spot where we shared our first kiss. Only this time we were under a sky full of stars, surrounded by the flicker of candles, and he delicately bends to pluck a single red rose,” Kelandris mimics the action with her tiny silver spoon in her cup. “The next thing I know he hands it to me and I spy the glitter of gold around its stem. Before I can even speak, he’s down on one knee and asking for my hand.”

Annabel actually squeals beside him.  “Kew you were a big old softie! Wait until the other lords hear about this, they’ll love it,” grinning broadly Annabel adds honey to her tea and Cullen dares glance at Bryan. To his surprise, the Lord isn’t glowering. In fact, he seems to be wearing a rather faint, but distinctly warm smile.

“Yes, well, they can say as they please, at the end of the day, it is I marrying the most beautiful lady in the entire court, not them and they’d do well to remember it.”

Huh. Perhaps there is a softer side to that cold exterior. Slowly Cullen thinks he’s beginning to understand. After all, how would he have survived in a world of nobility, of gossip, intrigue and rumour? He’s not sure he would’ve, but one thing is certain, he would have spent a great degree of his time scowling, and in a foul mood, so perhaps he has more in common Bryan than he first thought.

His day is spent exploring the keep with Annabel, hearing various tales of her wild childhood adventures, sparring in the yard, falling off horses and running amuck over the castle's defences. Cullen can’t recall a more perfect day. No reports, no officers, no meetings, no schedules… just him and his wife wondering around a stronghold which seems to bring joy to her eyes every time they pass a new corner. Every statute has a story to tell, every painting, every person in fact as he finds out she knows a great deal of the guards and staff, many of whom are greeted with hugs and questions about friends and family.

It’s no wonder she’d excelled at the role of Inquisitor. A natural born people person, able to sense what someone needed and with more than enough compassion to go around. Even if she was lousy at paperwork and meetings, having the ability to win hearts and minds was undoubtedly a more useful skill. Or so he thought. He smiles at each and exchanges pleasantries, chuckling along with their jokes, but before long he finds himself starting to tire and wane. Although he is briefly reprieved and revived by Bryan showing him the trebuchets along with a rousing discussion about their correct calibration. That's more his strength, one on one, detailed, practical discussions about useful things, even as he noted Annabel wonder of halfway through. He knew she’d return and ask him all about it, and pretend to show an interest until she got distracted once more at least.

Thankfully, however, they break for lunch alone, he’s not sure he can handle round two of the game so soon. Settling on a bench in the gardens two sets of sad eager eyes peer up as they unpack a panic.

“Oh, go on then, but don’t tell cook I gave you the good meat,” pointing her finger sternly Annabel then tosses the two hounds each a sizable chunk of chicken before wiping her fingers delicately. The last piece she pushes to Cullen. “You should stock up, it’ll be fancy food tonight, but we can always sneak into the kitchen… If you’re brave enough… Cook has been known to chase even royalty away with her pan.”

Chuckling Cullen hopes she’s joking, although the expression on her face suggests otherwise. Calm settles over him once more, the fresh air and hearty food a soothing balm, although the rest of her head against him is even better. Soon it would be best polite smiles and idle chatter amidst vipers. Something he dreads with every passing moment that brings it closer.

When Annabel swiftly leaps up from nowhere, he follows her moves with curiosity and frowns as she begins to pluck several roses. He never would understand what went through her mind, although it must be a whirl of activity.

Within a moment she’s back, four different colour roses in her hand, still confused he watches as she presents them to the hounds. Prince sniffs at the burnished yellow one, so she lays it at his paws with distinct grace, while Fion, her family mutt, takes a liking to the white one. The dog's slender muzzle picks up the stem, seemingly unbothered by the prickles and with a dainty little trot jogs back to the keep with its tail wagging, leaving the mabari to cock its head after the apparently upper-class creature.

“So, that leaves pink and red…and I think you shall have the pink,” she declares with a polite little bow as she hands Cullen the rose like he was a lady at a tourney.

“And why the pink?” With one eyebrow raised he runs calloused fingertips over the petals, unbelievably soft when compared to the stem beneath.

“Because it suits you,” she smiles. “If you blush at the ball tonight like you did this morning, you’ll match!”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” shaking his head he bops her on the nose with the flower, a waft of its fragrance reaching him. She always did smell like roses, and now he supposes he knows why they’re her favourite, they must remind her of home. “You sure it’s not just because red is your favourite colour?” He asks already smiling softly at how she brushes the petals over her lips and cheek with a barely audible hum.

“Hmmm, well it is the colour of passion,” she smirks, full lips half hidden behind the vibrant petals. “Here,” she kisses it gently then swaps their roses with ease. “Your right, red is my favourite colour, and if you’re wearing it, I get to enjoy it more.”

“Selfless as ever,” he chuckles, one eyebrow lifting as she stands, tucking the rose through her buttonhole and extending her hand to him.

“Come on, we need to practice…”

A heavy sigh falls from him as he realises what she’s getting at. “Fine… but I make no promises tonight to not stand on your toes, knock anyone over or become hopelessly lost…” reluctantly rising he feels his drop in mood lifts with the soft curl of fingers around his.

“Oh Cullen, I thought you were always hopelessly lost in my presence?” Annabel smiles and flutters long lashes up at him, and he can’t help but wrap an arm around her waist to tug her in close.

A smirk lifts the corner of his lip again, raising and arching his scar as his honey drenched eyes melt on sight of hers. “Oh, Annabel, you have no idea,” with that his mouth cups hers to share the kind of slow, steamy, kiss only true lovers could.

Stepping into the hall of her childhood home filled to the brim with stringed music, chatter and the scent of cooked meats sends a rush of excitement up Annabel’s spine. Cullen feels warm and steadfast beside her, although she can sense the subtle ebb of tension in the stiffness of his arm under her fingers.

“You’ll be fine,” she reassures him with a bright smile that follows her gaze around the room picking out people she hadn’t seen for years. Some welcome, others not so much. Politics was not her favourite thing either, but at least she had a wealth of a experience to help her cope, something she only hopes Cullen will develop over time.

“Hmmm, so long as no one asks me to dance,” he grumbles, but when she shots him a sideways glance he’s quick to rectify his error. “Other than my wife, of course.”

Chuckling she squeezes tight against his side. “They’re all here to celebrate us, remember? Ok, yes they’re snakes and will try to trip you up or get a rise out of you, but just smile and nod politely…”

“I’m not sure nobility understand the concept of ‘celebration’…”

She taps his arm at the gripe, but can’t help but snicker. He’s not wrong. Although at least they did put out a splendid selection of wine. It’s just a pity her brother had already warned her to ‘take it easy’ with the drinking… For good reason, she may have embarrassed him and herself on several notable occasions in the past. Noble ladies didn’t take kindly to being puked on, knocked over or insulted loudly, and fighting was something it turned out many nobles didn’t have a clue about. So she’ll just have to make do with grazing the buffet and dancing the night away.

“Ah, there you are,” Bryan’s smooth nonchalant tone greets them as he sweeps over, looking splendidly handsome in his doubletted formal attire, although clearly not a patch on her Cullen. “Just in time for the first dance.”

“Perfect,” Cullen grits out and she squeezes his arm all too tightly.

Bryan clearly notices the sarcasm and coldly stares for a moment, eyes searing into the other man’s in sharp warning. Best behaviour was called for and he apparently won’t tolerate anything less. “Hmm, don’t worry Commander, I’m sure your wife’s elegance will make up for your floundering… besides, I’ll wager all eyes will be on Kelandris and me.”

The single chime of a bell announces the dance and Bryan is swift to depart with an all to smug smirk. It seems as if the chatter that had filled the lofty space suddenly grows still, and as she leads Cullen to the dance floor people actually part to make way, casting their eyes up and down, some in admiration but most in scorn. She had married a common Fereldan after all, no matter his Inquisition title or his former templar rank, he would still be viewed by many as simple farming stock from a backward land. Something she hopes might change after tonight, after speaking with him, after hearing of his tales of leadership and valour, of support. Of course, many would never shift their opinions, far too set in their ways, beside it provided too good a source of ammunition to bring scorn against a prestigious rival house. Annabel only hopes that for a few perhaps his calm demeanour, solid polite form and effort may impress.

Kelandris glides over, the lilac and gold of her dress catching her eye with the swish of full-length fabric, all set off by a familiar white rose in her hair. As Bryan bows deeply Annabel spies a genuinely warm smile on his face, one that matches the lady who accepts his hand with a soft murmur of approval from the crowd. For once, however, Annabel feels no need to compete with him, it seems they both have found what they needed, and although his dance partner is superior to even her in skill, it doesn’t matter in the slightest. She’s found a man who had promised her a dance, despite knowing he’d struggle, despite despising the limelight, and despite the nerves which must be making him feel sick to his stomach. She’s found perfection and couldn’t be happier.

“I’m not sure about this,” Cullen’s murmur is hot against her ear as he lays one hand over her hip. “Everyone’s watching.”

“Of course, they are,” she looks up at him with a playful smile lighting her eyes. “It’s called jealousy, Commander.” Their fingers intertwine and he cracks a tiny half smile, she can tell he doesn’t believe her, but that only makes him all the more perfect. He squeezes her hand this time and nods, amber eyes set in determination as they meet hers along with the lock of his jaw. Just as he did before any battle, she notes.

The melody starts up, slowly and hypnotic with soft harps and she prompts him with a nudge of her toe, and he begins to slowly sway them. Annabel's impressed that he’s able to put all the staring eyes to one side so promptly, and when the tempo increases, other stringed instruments joining the fray her heart flutters in her chest. With a tap she urges him to shuffle back, then forth, until they perform the small ungainly routine they’d spent hours learning. A clumsy foxtrot which is slightly out of time with the couple to their right and the flow of music, making it even more difficult, but they continue. Maker how she loves this stubborn man.

After a few repeats Cullen seems to grasp the moves and to her surprise holds out his arm to spin her round in a twirl of burgundy and sparkle. She giggles as she whirls, the party and other nobles forgotten as her skirt flurries around her. Clumsily he pulls her back and she stumbles into his chest with a laugh, the display for the visiting nobility already forgotten as she lifts up her eyes to meet his.

A twitch, a hint of a smile crooks his lip and she suspects he may be starting to enjoy himself too. Her heart swells with pride and endearment, even as he kicks her in the shin by accident. Following the error in his step, he seemingly loses all abandon and throws her in another twirl, narrowly missing a whirl of purple as the two ladies almost collide in a glitter of fabric and sparkle. Even if she’d had the sense about her to care, Annabel wouldn't have looked over, certain her brother’s scowl would be harsh enough to wound, instead, she lets the moment capture her for what it is. Beautiful.  

Laughing, Annabel spins back into arms that wrap around her. Delicately she lifts her head to find him wearing a heart-warming smile which she returns before resting her head against his chest, beyond grateful. His warm, distinct musk underlies his sandalwood scent, and she finds herself hum contently against him. Feeling truly happy as their bodies entwine and sway while the tempo slows, their movements growing ever slower, ever subtler until the music fades.

“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she asks, still buried against him.

“Hmm… well, I had a good teacher,” he murmurs against her hair. Leaning up she moves to kiss him but a round of applause catches them both off guard. Sharing a peck instead of the smouldering kiss one she’d desired she snuggles back against him. The cheering was most likely for the other dancers, but it's nice to bask in it regardless. The music starts up once more and others begin to fill the space around them. Cracking open one eye she spots Kelandris with her arms wrapped up around Bryan’s neck and watches as he leans to press their foreheads together, lightly smiling and still swaying to their own tune, that fills Annabel with fresh happiness once again.

Fancy gowns and dancing always agreed with Annabel, no matter how horrid the noble gathering, those things, plus the wine, usually made any event bearable. She’s quickly discovering however that the lavish food on offer tonight does not agree with her. Not in the slightest.

Resting her palms and forehead against the frozen marble the cold provides a soothing respite to the flush of heat which has followed after being sick. She’d at least made it outside and into a more discreet corner of the gardens before being violently ill. Although it seems she won’t be spared the by the gossips as she spies several guests whispering while they meander along of the sparsely light pathways. Great. They’ll probably think she’s drunkenly disgraced herself again, although nothing could be further from the truth. Stupid sea food.

Tugging up her long silken gloves she tries to fan her dress and settle out the creases, offering a polite smile to the passers-by which abruptly fades when they’re out of sight. She should never have tried pickled cockles. What had she been thinking? Slimy shellfish on an empty hyped up stomach was surely asking for this kind of disaster. Her stomach churns, beyond bloated and angry, the corset dress making it all ten times worse by digging into her ribs unbearably tight. So much for a joint celebration…

“Annabel, are you alright? You ran out like-“ Bryan breaks off when he spies the state of the poor flowers and her calmly skin. “Ah, it seems not…”

“I’m fine,” Annabel shakes her head lightly, eyes resting as she leans against the pillar, trying to settle the roll in her stomach, it’s almost like being back at sea as it churns and babbles away.

“The fact that my flower beds are covered in sick says otherwise,” Bryan is quick to hold his hand up. “I’m not going to drop this lightly, so you may as well go to your room while I call for the doctor… and your husband.”

“=No, I’ll be fine in a few minutes… just fetch me some water and-“

“He shall do no such thing,” Kelandris appears from thin air with a delicate but precise sway to her plush gown. Sighing Annabel tries in vain to at least fix her hair by tucking back loose strands, or she does until the other woman’s hand clasps over hers anyway. “You’re not well, come, I’ll escort you, I imagine you're dying to get out of that dress and it would be a shame to ruin it if you should have another, episode.”

That much is all true… and Annabel has no doubt Cullen will be grateful to retire early, especially since she’d abandoned him at some point by mistake. “Fine,” she relents with another sigh, they were making rather a big fuss over a simple tummy blip. She dreads to think how they’d behave if they’d seen some of the states she’d returned to Skyhold in. “I’m sure it’s just all the travelling, the seafood must’ve brought back bad memories of the ocean…”

“Then go get that confirmed,” Bryan nods politely although his eyes are stern. “Please see the doctor, I have enough to worry about with the likes of Lord Tristan and his lot. Besides if it is contagious, I have no desire to spend my engagement party evening throwing up, thank you.”

She chuckles faintly and lifts one eyebrow almost crudely to her older sibling. “Let me guess, you two have other plans?”

“Go,” sternness vibrates in his voice, although Kelandris smirks darkly as she links their arms to start leading her away.

Cullen arrives at their private bedroom quarters panting and flushed. “Are you alright?” shutting the door behind him, he hurries to the window seat where Annabel is haunched, looking decidedly more pale than usual. Make up gone, hair a mess and her body wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown her appearance is a far cry from what it had been the last time he’d seen her this evening and only fuels his worry further. “Bryan said he’d sent for the doctor…” panic has widened his pupils which now search her up and down.

“There’s nothing wrong,” she gives a small smile, clearly attempting to be reassuring, but its meekness makes it fail.

“You're certain?” His brows furrow. “You don’t look well. You know you don’t have to pretend…I mean after everything-“

“I’m fine, Cullen, honest,” she interrupts and taps the space next to her, but his muscles are wound too tight to sit so easily.

“People are not sick for no reason, especially at balls being held in their honour,” he’s suspicious. She’d not been drinking. Unless she’d been doing so on the sly, which while it wouldn’t surprise him doesn’t seem likely given her demeanour. She was usually a rowdy and randy drunk after all. Poison perhaps? Either accidental or worse on purpose…

“I think you should sit down,” she shuffles a little to one side, apparently trying to encourage him, but all it does is make his stomach churn tighter. Whatever it is, it’s serious and a lump wedges in his throat while fear clutches his heart.

“No,” he folds his arms, determined to not be swayed by her false stoicism. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“You need to sit down-“

“No, Annabel, not-“

“Just sit down!” She snaps, flashing her teeth in a fierce snarl which blazes heat in her eyes. The expression quickly dissolves and is followed by a feeble apology. Whatever she needs to say it’s evidently important and the pressing anxiety he’s been trying to keep at bay thunders his heart and slicks his palms. Rubbing at the tightness in his neck he shakes his head, Maker’s breath, if she is sick, truly sick… he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He’s almost lost her so many times… to the snow, the fade, the darkspawn magister, the anchor… the thought of going through it all again is enough to make despair sting the back of his eyes. With reluctance, he perches stiffly beside her.

“Cullen, I…” she trails off and nibbles at her lower lip, a sure sign she’s holding back. He must be patient. Whatever is wrong they will get through it, together, or so he tells himself, for the hundredth time. Besides surely if it was that grave the doctor would be here? She’d been passed out? Or worse…

“I’m pregnant.”

The words knock the sense right out of him. Blinking, utterly dumbfounded, he sits up and stares at her. He must've heard her wrong, but she merely sits there, eyes earnest and hopeful, although betraying a shimmer of fear. “You… you’re pregnant?” he repeats the words although his voice cracks, he needs to hear them, needs to be sure he hasn’t imagined them. His breath hitches as she nods, her eyes starting to fill with unshed tears while his heart flip-flops in his chest.

Disbelief clouds his mind. It isn’t that he thinks she can’t possibly be pregnant, he knows well enough that the moon tea potion wasn’t always effective, no, it’s the notion that he deserves such a gift that he finds unfathomable. A precious tiny infant, him and her combined into a small and innocent bundle… How by the blessed Andstrae has he earnt such a thing?

“Cullen?” Her tone is one of concern, her hand tentative as it reaches for his but when she does he latches on tight. His grip only grows tighter as a pure smile, natural and unabashed grows to fill his face and chase the darkness from his eyes.

“Annabel, that’s…that’s…I can’t…Maker’s breath…That, it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard!” His almost boyish excitement spills out in the widening of his grin and the way he grabs hold to pull her close. “I can’t…Maker…” he utters a few words of jumbled of prayer, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief, all mumbled into the scent of her hair. A giggle sounds from her and it is the purest, most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“You had me worried for a second …” she retorts. Pulling away she toys with his fingers. “I know it wasn’t planned…and we haven’t discussed it, not seriously…I mean I know you, we, wanted children, but right now? With the Inquisition changing so much, I wasn’t sure-“

He cuts off her nonsense with a kiss, lips moulding and melding over hers to shh any such talk far away. As if he could ever not want to be part of something so divine with her…A son…Or a daughter. Andraste preserve him. His thumb traces over her cheek, the rosy hue returning under his touch as solid conviction stirs his soul.

“Some of the greatest gifts the Maker bestows on us are unplanned, unfathomable, unforeseen… like meeting you,” his reverent words are followed by the press of his forehead against hers to share the blessing he feels radiating through his core. It feels… surreal… but wonderful..

“How… I mean… when…” Cullen loses his sense and sentence as he reaches his hand down, hovering over Annabel’s stomach, not daring to touch it, to taint it. A tiny babe, untarnished by the world, innocent, and defenceless, and theirs, to protect, to love and nurture, and with the Maker as his witness, he will do just that.

“If you need to ask how, I might have to question your chantry upbringing Mr Rutherford,” she snickers, taking his hand with both of hers and laying it on her bloated stomach. He can’t help but give his own small snigger at her comment, although his eyes never leave his hand, his touch so gentle it must barely even register.

“I meant…When…How far along,” gingerly his thumb rubs tiny circles over her robe, still uncertain he’s even allowed to touch something so pure…

Annabel deftly unfastens the garment and tugs at his calloused fingers to press his hand firmly against her tummy. “The doctor said about four months…about the time I lost my hand…He thinks maybe the potions I was having may have stopped the moon tea? I don’t know… Although he seems to think you must have strong seed in you,” she chuckles again, her free hand reaching up and cupping his face to stroke down his stubbled jaw.

He can’t believe she’s been carrying their child all that time and neither of them knew. Four months. Maker’s breath! They’d been across the Waking sea! And to Kirkwall! Such dangers he’d never have undertaken if he’d had even the faintest idea… “All that time?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

She nods and curls her feet up under her so she can snuggle into his lap, an action he gratefully welcomes. It really has been quite a day. One he’s certain he’ll never forget. As her warmth spreads through his chest, he’s hit with a sudden memory that snaps the air from his lungs with a hiss.

“Maker’s breath! In training, I hit you with a shield!” he exclaims, generating a bark of laughter from her curled form.

“Cullen, I get hit by shields all the time!" she exclaims, still laughing, although it fails to make him feel any better about it. Apparently sensing his worry she peeks up at him from under thick lashes, the brilliant blue of her iris’s shinning with all the love and certainty he’s ever dreamed of. “This is no ordinary baby, it has the blood of two warriors, two survivors, two leaders, tinged blue with nobility and scarlet with Ferelden… it's no ordinary baby,” she rubs their joint hands lightly over the small swell of her stomach. “This is our baby, Cullen.”

----

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3 

I hope it surprised some of you out there but I have been dropping hints for a while so i suspect not lol. Also please note this is set in a time when little was known about what was good or bad for you in Annabel’s condition so please don’t think I’m trying to promote drinking or eating  shellfish ect! Also look I made a banner!

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These are the 10 best restaurants in Paris, ranked by local expert

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These are the 10 best restaurants in Paris, ranked by local expert

There’s something comforting about wandering outside and seeing the familiar – familiar surroundings, familiar faces, familiar bakeries, butchers and, yes, bistrots. It’s always a challenge to update this ‘Best Restaurants’ list for Paris. It’s like having to choose your favorite child. And with 44,896 restaurants in Paris (as of last count in 2017, compared to NYC’s 26,697 also from 2017 tally) I’d be fibbing if I said I’d tried them all. 

But that said, there are some bstrots and neighborhood favorites that remain with you long after the meal has stopped lingering. So this update of Best Paris Restaurants is for all of you who yearn to visit the City of Light just one more time, for those of you who dream of visiting for the first time, and for those of us who never left. It’s for all of us who have come to love and appreciate the familiar, the familial, and the faces at the corner bistro we see as we pass on our daily comings-and-goings. In other words, sometimes the simplest really is the best. 

After wandering the streets and visiting the landmarks of Paris, there are times when all you really want is a good meal. Those times seem to occur quite often in Paris where excellent bistros and restaurants line nearly every street you walk down. And that’s not to mention all those ‘must’ places, you know, the ones that have all the user recommendations and Instagram photos.

But image doesn’t always equate with quality. So when the only thing that will do is a satisfying, taste-good, sure-fire meal, you can have confidence that any of these restaurants on this list won’t let you down. Some offer haute cuisine, what some men might call frilly food, and others offer just that perfectly grilled, thick steak served with potatoes and an excellent glass – or bottle, why not? – of red wine. 

Many of today’s noteworthy chefs here in Paris have begun to practice the cult of personally sourced ingredients. There was a time when restaurants made their purchases at the big fresh market called Rungis out by Charles De Gaulle airport, every morning. Many still do that, but you’ll find that the really finicky chefs have their fish provider, their meat cultivator and their butter and cheese curator on speed dial on their portable phones. And some even have their own vegetable gardens. Here on this list, many of these chefs meet that telling criteria. 

‘In the heart of the gariguette;’ That is this Provençal Restaurant/Bistrot’s moniker. Lets air that out a bit. Ready for a mini-deep dive into French nostalgia and romantic cultural references? ‘Gariguette’ refers to the potpourri of scents you find when hiking the dry, hot country trails of the S. of France. The scent is evocative of sagebrush, thyme, rosemary and a distant hint of lavender. For a French person it prompts memories of long, langourous summer afternoons spent playing petanque while sipping pastis on summer holiday. And this is exactly where you step into when you enter Chez Janou. Time stops and all of a sudden you are ‘en Provence’ once again. The central, classic zinc bar is lined with over 80 types of different pastis that you can order by the glass. The menu is just as classic and full of nostalgia. Much of it is market driven.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: Leave room for chocolate mousse, it’s served in a big soup terrine and is enough for a table of four. Also prepare to taste pastis!

Paige’s expert tip: I love Paris, but sometimes you really do wish you were ‘en Provence.’ At this neighborhood bistrot, you get to have it both ways. As you enter Chez Janou, you get to step into a France that’s been immortalized in the caper films of Louis de Funes. All that is good and right, classic and delicious about France, you’ll find here at this simple, neighborhood bistrot hidden just a stone’s throw away from Place des Vosges and Bastille. Here you can always find an abundant selection of fresh-caught seafoods and shellfish. And, of course, succulent meats grilled ‘à point’ round out the choices. The bistrot’s sprawling terrace in the summer not only encircles the angular sidewalk but overtakes the little ‘place’ across the street, too. The decor is full of Jacques Tati posters from 1950s films.

Read more about Chez Janou →

The Southwest region of France is known for its food. After all, this is where the Perigord is located and from which the famous truffles come. Less known are its wines. But once you’ve been introduced to the beauty of Malbec’s original terroir, there is no going back. This restaurant consecrated itself to being the culinary tapestry by which the region’s wines would shine. So the menu is fairly simple: a dozen oysters to share for starters, a huge (1 kgl) chuck roast of beef ‘Irish Vintage’ to share between two or even two adults and two kids are the kinds of items you’ll get to choose from here. Gazpacho, devilled eggs and other nibbles are also S. West classics that go well with these deep reds and sometimes sweet whites. Roast duck served with raspberries and beets as its cold side; and the French toast as dessert which is made with brioche (not bread!) served with melted salted caramel butter – now aren’t these mouthwatering?

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: On Sundays, their upstairs ‘speakeasy’ bar transforms into a children’s babysitting den. Yep, that means parents can enjoy their Sunday brunch, in peace for once.

Paige’s expert tip: French Southwestern cuisine is known the world-over. After all, the Perigord is famous for its truffles and foie gras. But here in Paris, it, likes its lovely wines, is often overshadowed by its glitzier kinsfolk. So this lovely little bistro, in a historical building just a couple doors down from where Jim Morrison once lived, offers the whole Southwestern-inspired culinary package.

Read more about Aux Vins des Pyrenees →

My Burgundy – “Ma Bourgogne.” The family traditions carried forward by this landmark bistro occupying a place of honor in the arcades of the Place des Vosges harken from his mother and grandmother. It’s from these family recipes the daily specials and the evergreen dishes originate from. ‘Menu’ in French means Special of The Day. (Whereas ‘la carte’ in French means ‘menu’ in English). Here Le Menu includes an appetizer, a main dish, a dessert or ‘fromage’ and a beverage. All that for a fixed price. Given that you’re dining at one of the top 3 real estate addresses in Paris, this is a fair deal for superior quality food. The bistro’s wine list lives up to its name, too. Whether you’re fond of Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays or not, pretty much anything from Burgundy is sure to win you over, if you’re a wine lover. They do take reservations here (subtle hint) so it’s probably good to plan ahead since this is an overwhelmingly popular choice with locals and visitors alike.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: Could there be more of a ‘living the fantasy’ moment than dining on classic Burgundy ‘Jambon Persillé’ while sipping Chardonnay at the Place des Vosges?

Paige’s expert tip: Here you’ll find welcoming staff and service. Meaning, despite this being a destination dining address at one of the most beautiful Parisian landmarks, they’re still keeping it real.

Read more about Ma Bourgogne →

Photo courtesy of L’Absinthe

Beetroot Gaspacho with goat cheese, a thick juicy steak – the kind you dream of, their signature Le Hot Duck as appetizer… these are only a few of the savory items on the menu that you’ll find here at the Rostang’s L’Absinthe. Pair that with a chilled carafe of Beaujolais and you’ve got yourself a memorable meal. Adding to the charm of this family bistro is its location on the Marche St. Honore, a pedestrian area and market square hidden between the Eglise St. Roch and Place Vendome. And let’s not forget the handcrafted absinthe cocktails, the namesake of this little gem. Though if sitting out on this picturesque terrace on a Parisian market square and pedestrian zone is your idea of a perfect end to a wonderful day, then rest assured there are plenty of cocktails and a solid wine list, too, to choose from for your down time.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: Comfort French food served in generous proportions at a neighborhood-feel bistro in a pedestrian zone in the center of Paris is what L’Absinthe is.

Paige’s expert tip: This is the charming neighborhood bistro to dine at when you want a thick cut steak, a carafe of chilled Beaujolais and a side of roasted baby potatoes. You’ll find more than just comfort food here, though. They’ve got a crafted menu of absinthe cocktails and their own signature appetizer, too, Le Hot Duck, which, once you’ve tasted, you understand why they trademarked it.

Read more about L’Absinthe →

This is the kind of tucked away little bistro on a Parisian sidestreet in a chic quartier that inspires novels and pivotal scenes in French films. The young team of Jonathan Caron and Anne Legrand have the mentorship of Christophe Pele (2 stars, Le Clarence) in common, save for a passion pure of serving up excellence on a plate. Here at L’innocence, with its tightly fitted dozen tables, the food becomes the sole focus. Chef Legrand works in the open kitchen to craft her fixed menu dishes while Caron interacts with guests and selects wine pairings. Each evening differs, but you can expect delicacies of grilled cauliflower with minted fromage blanc and citrus condiments; toasted foccaccia with basil olive oil; white asparagus with smoked poutargue in a white butter sauce; lamb shank served with carrots from Annie Bertin’s gardens, and for the pre-dessert, tempura-fried acacia blossoms with Bruyere dipping honey.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: New talent with fresh, imaginative cuisine is a rarity. What Legrand and Caron serve up here will have you re-discovering what fine dining truly means.

Paige’s expert tip: This is the restaurant to take someone special for whom food is an art form. Yes, of course, ingredients are sourced from only the best producers who sell their products exclusively to only a handful of the top chefs. But even more than that is what Chef Legrand delicately does with her materials. And with Caron working the dining room, the partnership dishes up a superlative alchemy of food and wine. Perhaps it is the pedigree of chefs past such as Chef Rose who have left a bit of fairy dust inside these walls? Or, more likely, it is simply the absolute purity of passion and dedication to excellence in French cuisine that sets this young duo’s restaurant apart. It is one not to be missed and offers promises of a meal breathtaking in its delicacy, imaginative creativity, execution, presentation and service.

Read more about L’innocence →

Refreshing here is that the service is quick and pleasant and the staff is welcoming and warm. Duck is the dish here, so much so that it even embodies its mascot. Other classics on the menu not to miss is the Mimosa eggs which are a crab salad filled devilled eggs appetizer, heavy on the fresh crab. The foie gras is top quality. Sides – whipped mashed potatoes, full of cream and butter, a fresh green salad, roasted potatoes and sauteed crisp vegetables in, yes, butter come in dishes that you can share. Don’t even think about skipping dessert here. If you’ve never tried the French whipped, lightly toasted egg white in a sea of creme anglaise, otherwise known as Ile Flottante, I highly recommend you do. The portion here is more than generous and its done exceptionally to perfection. Or you can always go for the tarte du jour.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: During the warmer months, outdoor terrace dining here means looking out over the Seine onto the Cathedrale Notre Dame de Paris and the Ile Saint-Louis.

Paige’s expert tip: For your first visit to this bistro, stick with the classics and signature dishes. That means have a taste of the roast duck and the crab stuffed devilled eggs. The wine cellar at the sister ship (La Tour d’Argent) is ranked one of the best in the world. So even the wines by the glass here will be excellent choices for whatever you order. Sides are fun and are meant to be shared. A simple tapenade and country style bread is your pre-appetizer for whetting the palate as you peruse the menu. Under the recently assumed reigns of André Terrail, son of the famous Tour d’Argent restaurateur, Claude Terrail, the family’s gastronomic bistro La Rotisserie d’Argent offers delightful accessibility. The sizzle of the establishment’s signature roasting duck and farm-raised chicken greets you when you enter this red-checked tablecloth icon on the Left Bank. It is literally just next door to the shrine of gourmets the world over, La Tour d’Argent, but here what is served is the bistro version of French food of the highest quality ingredients. Claude Terrail acquired this bistro in 1989 with the intention that snobbery had no place within its walls.

Read more about La Rotisserie d’Argent →

This is one of Paris’ newest and most elegant restaurants. You may have heard of the Prince Robert of Luxembourg’s famous wine estate in Bordeaux, Chateau Haut-Brion? In 2016 he opened these doors to his private mansion in Paris not far from the prestigious Champs-Elysees. Devoted exclusively to the French Art de Vivre, dining here is a most memorable experience that transports you into a luxury cocoon of timelessness. Chef Christophe Pele offers his deliciously devilish take on French classics that marry a modern twist to the favorites. Each day he uses his 2-star Michelin prowess to create the day’s offerings. But of course you can choose from the menu as well. In terms of gastronomic dining, a phenomenal wine list and surroundings unparalleled even in Paris, Le Clarence with its friendly and welcoming team, offers you the kind of fairytale experience heretofore only a dream.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: When the occasion calls for chateau dining Le Clarence instantly transports you into that magic of French luxury and refinement, while retaining that at-home ease.

Paige’s expert tip: Fairytales do come true. That is what dining at Le Clarence will have you believe. The chateau’s decor was done by Prince Robert himself who tastefully recreated the atmosphere of his legendary Bordeaux estate here in the heart of Paris. For those exquisite wine pairings with lunch or dinner, you are in excellent hands here with Head Sommelier Antoine Petrus. There are over 120 outstanding winemakers to choose from on the menu representing mostly French but also international wine regions. And, of course, you have your choice of all the excellent Domain Clarence Dillon vintages as well including Haut-Brion, La Mission Haut-Brion and Quintas.

Read more about Le Clarence →

Set menus come in a range of three or four services for lunch and four or seven services for dinner. Rather than being seated in one large dining room, you are seated in one of several smaller dining salons, thus adding to the air of intimate dining. Many tables have views out onto the exquisite private garden surrounding the manor. Things to taste on the menu include ‘blue’ lobster from the Iles Chausey, pigeon de la Guerche on a bed of roses ‘eternelle’ accompanied by balsamic whipped beets. Delicate white cod served with raw slivered coconut over a fine glaze of lightly curried pumpkin purée. And the chocolate soufflé, so rich and velvety that it melts the bourbon vanilla ice cream and the créme chantilly it’s served with.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: The creative flair Chef Pacaud lends to his classically interpreted cuisine, maintains Apicius as a culinary temple.

Paige’s expert tip: I don’t always recommend Michelin-starred restaurants, but this one I do, and without hesitation. Apicius has long been a culinary landmark, a Parisian temple of gastronomy, and now under Chef Pacaud’s masterful touch, you not only dine on extraordinary finesse but experience the complete and whole pleasure of haute cuisine presented with excellent, friendly, professional service. The restaurant’s bar off to the left when you enter the private manor is a good way to begin or end your meal. Named after the Roman who wrote the first culinary book in the times of antiquity, Apicius is the Michelin-starred restaurant set apart in a world unto itself nestled in an 18th c. mansion just a few streets away from the Grand Palais. Helmed now by the young and extraordinarily accomplished Chef Mathieu Pacaud, within a year of taking over, he maintained this iconic temple of gastronomy’s Michelin star. He and his business partner, Laurent de Gourcuff have infused this park-like setting in the center of the city with a hip, fun, dynamic ambiance while not relinquishing a shred of the establishment’s elegance.

Read more about Apicius →

Located now at the Monnaie de Paris, this celebrated restaurant serves contemporary haute cuisine in a just redone – though historical – space overlooking the Seine on the Quai Conti. The Monnaie de Paris, France’s former mint, is the oldest French institution and was founded in 864 under the reign of Charles II. It offers, now, in this newest incarnation, spectacular views overlooking the Seine. The interior design has notes of the theatrical, with tables placed just so, to capture the natural lighting. Salmon, flown in direct from Scotland, is served on its bed of ice at table, seasoned before your eyes with a triad of citrus before gingerly being sprayed with a consomm– of citrus. One of the signature dishes you mustn’t miss is Chef Savoy’s savory use of brioche. It’s a recipe original to him and one that, with its homage to the simple mushroom, delights every time.

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: Chef Guy Savoy is one of France’s culinary ambassadors, hands down. This, his ultimate flagship restaurant, overlooks the Seine from its minted, majestic perch.

Paige’s expert tip: If the exquisite meal here has left you sated, and you absolutely must pass up the signature house brioche, don’t fret. Just down the street, Team Guy Savoy has opened up a Brioche Takeaway so now you purchase this lovely, doughy (sweet and savory) goodness to bring with you.

Read more about Guy Savoy →

Photo courtesy of photo by Pauline Le Goff copyright of Chef Alain Passard used with permission

When Parisians speak of Chef Alain Passard’s restaurant, Arpege, it is in hushed, reverential tones. Descriptions of meals enjoyed here invariably include mention of vegetables; also that it requires a good three hours of dining time spent at the table. Vegetables have become, since the early 2000s, the chef’s signature. He still serves meat and his preferred method of cooking is still over an open flame, a technique his grandmother taught him. But in the past decade he adapted this talent of flamb–ing, grilling and roasting to vegetables: “Learn how to travel delicately with your pan on the open flame guaranties texture, taste, color, light and transparency with your vegetables,” declares this illustrious French chef. He maintains three of his own vegetable and herb gardens to assure the highest quality ingredients: “Between the gardeners and me, we discuss carrots and beetroot like others speak of Chardonnay and Cabernet Franc!”

Recommended for Best Restaurants because: Long before ‘plant based diet’ became a buzz phrase, Chef Passard was dishing up veggies in his 3-star restaurant. They’re grown in his Normandy garden.

Paige’s expert tip: This is the only restaurant in the French capital today to manage all its own fresh vegetables, herbs as well as red and black fruit cultivation. The restaurant’s name is inspired by the chef’s second love: music. Makassar wood furnishings and Lalique crystal ware round out the clubby decor.

Read more about L’Arpège →

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What’s the most iconic food around the world? Let’s find out!

“Cooking is all about people. Food is maybe the only universal thing that really has the power to bring everyone together. No matter what culture, everywhere around the world, people eat together.”

– GUY FIERI –

What is the most iconic food around the world? The world is a gastronomic paradise; it harbours diverse culinary uniqueness in each corner. How many cuisines contribute to describing a particular destination and what would a local suggest to taste or where to find it?

If you look a little closer, you’ll soon learn that the best dishes in the world can be an up-close lens on the destination’s history and culture. Despite their ancient origins, the dishes have been modernised for the palates of today’s world.

Different food from around the world

Every foodie enjoys tasting their way around the world by indulging in traditional cuisines, by trying a new flavour for the first time or getting to enjoy an iconic dish they’ve heard about. We learn about different cuisines by tasting the most popular signature dishes and staple ingredients of each country.

A culinary journey across the globe is the best way to discover its culture and cuisine. This makes it the pure delight of culinary travel.

What’s even better than eating the best food in the world? You get to have a new food experience and enjoy another new dish. So, let’s take a look at the most iconic food from around the world. These are 10 different nations with their famous and traditional dishes, starting in the UK!

Warning: This list of food from around the world will make you hungry!

British Cuisine

Yes, one can’t really talk about Britain without mentioning one of the most well-known and distinct cultures on Earth: the British culture. With its own dialects, customs, art, literature and history; it is easy to see why many consider it to be one of the richest cultures in existence.

Britain has a wide variety of cuisine and holds an excellent culinary reputation. In fact, these dishes are some of the best food from around the world. However, culinary expertise in the UK is not new. Moreover, Influenced by the Romans, Anglo-Saxons, French and even other parts of Europe: In essence, a hodgepodge of diverse styles and traditions.

Fish and Chips – Fish and Chips are presumably the most popular British food known across the globe.

English Breakfast – English breakfast is served with bacon, sausages, egg, baked beans, black pudding, fried toast, hash browns, mushrooms, and egg. Best enjoyed with a cuppa or fruit juice.

Roast Dinner – A traditional roast dinner consists of different roasted meats like chicken breast, turkey, pork, and beef. This is accompanied by seasonal vegetables, roasts, potatoes, and gravy.

Bangers and Mash – A famous British pub food. A dish comprising sausages, mash potatoes, and onion gravy.

Trifle – A strawberry flavoured classic British dessert made up of layers of cake rolls, custard, jelly, cream, and fruit toppings.

Italian Cuisine

My personal favourite, Italian cuisine, is one of the oldest, most beloved cuisines and considered some of the best food from around the world. With extraordinary diversity of flavours, richness and depth, offering something for everyone’s taste buds.

Italian food varies from region to region and associates with various kinds of pasta and pizza. In reality, Italian food is ever-changing, from endless combinations and new adaptations. What makes Italian food one of the best food from around the world is not just its flavours but also its diversity and also an Italian meal can be expected to be structured as follows: Antipasto (appetiser), primo (rice or pasta), second (meat), and dolce (dessert).

Pizza – Pizza is a flat dough topped with tomato sauce, mozzarella, and basil. (More toppings are added to create different variants of pizza)

Risotto – An Italian version of creamy rice cooked in vegetable or meat stock, cheese and wine after frying it in sautéed onions.

Lasagna  – Lasagna is traditional Italian comfort food made in pasta sheets, meat, sauce, and cheese.

Ossobuco alla Milanese – Ossobuco is slow-cooked veal in white wine, meat broth, and vegetables seasoned with lemon zest, garlic, and parsley.

Gelato – Gelato is a rich variant of ice cream in terms of density, texture and is more intense in flavour.

French Cuisine

Like Italian food, French cuisine was also one of the world’s first cuisines and has taken its flavours around the globe. Admittedly, French cuisine is an art, so rich in regional variations. The French take great pride in their traditions of cooking. The modern way of cooking takes a lot from roots in France, and for decades, French food has been an elegant cuisine. This ranges from sylvan, robust, and healthy to the finest meals. A typical French meal would consist of bread, cheese, and wine.

Boeuf Bourguignon – Boeuf Bourguignon, a classic French beef stew made with red wine, pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon.

Croque Monsieur – A sandwich is taken to the next level! Grilled ham and velvety béchamel cheese sauce sandwich.

Croissants – Croissants are crescent-shaped buttery, flaky pastries perfectly crisp on the outside, tender and moist on the inside.

Coq Au Vin – A version of red wine chicken stew, cooked on a low heat to perfection.

Cherry Clafoutis – A popular cherry dessert in France! Juicy, sweet cherries wrapped in a rich batter and baked into a mixture of a cake and custard.

Chinese Cuisine

Some of the best food in the world, Chinese cuisine has taken over many parts of the world by storm! I mean, I’m sure you’ve had a Chinese take-away meal at least once in your life. This particular cuisine classifies its regional diversity into different styles: Cantonese, Szechuan, Hunan, Zhejiang, Shandong, Anhui, and Fujian. Each food tradition is formed by the regions’ history, climate, geography, and lifestyle.

Sichuan Pork – Sichuan Pork is spicy poached slices of pork coated with egg-white and starch to preserve its freshness and tenderness.

Dumplings – Dumplings comprise a filling of minced meat and chopped vegetables wrapped in a thin dough skin.

Peking Roasted Duck – Peking duck is a duck roast savoured for its thin and crispy skin, a world-famous dish from Beijing.

Chow Mein – Chow mein is a stir-fried noodles dish consists of meat (chicken, beef, shrimp, or pork), onions, and celery.

Kung Pao Chicken – Kung Pao Chicken is a famous Sichuan-style dish made with diced chicken, dried chilli, and fried peanuts.

American Cuisine

The best way to explain American cuisine is that it is a blend of different cuisines. In other words, it is a mongrel, where different ethnic groups contributed to the nation’s food traditions. American cuisine has drastically changed over the years, as have American lifestyles.  Some of these dishes were contributed by Native Americans, Colonial Americans, and Modern Americans. These were adapted, changed, and invented, becoming all-American dishes. Similarly, many dishes are regionalised, such as soul food in the south, Tex-Mex cooking in Texas, etc.

Hot dogs – There is no need for a special introduction for the “All-American” hotdog, a hotdog (sausage) wedged between a bun.

Philly cheesesteak – A Philly cheesesteak is a sandwich made by grilling chopped beef, onions, and cheese then laid into a long Amoroso bun.

Grits – Grits is a creamy porridge-like dish made with whole dried white corn kernels that can go plain, savoury, or sweet.

Mexican flat enchiladas – Mexican or Tex-Mex style enchiladas smothered in red chilli sauce or green topped with an optional fried egg.

Apple pie – Apple pie is a sweet dish that features a sweet apple filling and a flaky butter crust with a shimmering lattice pie crust.

Indian Cuisine

It’s hard to put Indian cuisine in a nutshell because of the country’s regional diversity and vast history. The early Indian cuisine relied heavily on a class system which dictated what people were able to eat. However, in more recent times, the cuisine has been a combination of traditional dishes and many international influences. The most common misinterpretation about Indian food is that many of us think it’s all curries. But in reality, it isn’t. An essential factor of Indian cuisine is that the blends of spices are designed to bring out the ultimate flavour.

Murgh Makhani (Butter Chicken) – Murgh Makhani is by far one of the deliciously best dishes in the world. This hot dish made with chicken tastes great with flatbreads.

Rogan Josh (Red Lamb) – A delectable spicy dish, Rogan Josh, is a red lamb stew prepared with a long list of spices, red chillies, and coconut cream.

Palak Paneer (Spinach and Cottage Cheese) – A popular Indian dish Palak paneer, a mildly flavoured dish made with spinach and cottage cheese with Indian spices.

Naan (Indian Flatbread) – Naan, a flatbread traditionally cooked in a tandoor oven, goes with anything, including curries and stews.

Gulab Jamun – An Indian sweet delight, a festive favourite made with milk solids, fried until golden and doused in saffron induced sugar syrup.

Japanese Cuisine

Food in Japan is plausibly one of the unique cuisines. The reason being that many ingredients used in their cooking can very rarely be found in other cuisines. It’s not all about sushi and tofu. The art of Japanese cuisine is prepared meticulously based on the proper seasoning and fresh ingredients.

Sushi – Sushi is some of the best food from around the world. This traditional Japanese dish consists of vinegar-flavoured rice rolls served with vegetables and raw seafood.

Sashimi – Sashimi is similar to sushi, but raw fish is sliced into small bite-sized pieces without the rice.

Tempura – Tempura is a dish prepared with seafood, meat, and vegetables covered in flour and egg batter then deep-fried in oil.

Soba and Udon – Soba or buckwheat noodles and Udon or wheat noodles are made by immersing the noodles into broth enjoyed hot or cold.

Wagashi – Wagashi are traditional Japanese sweets made using mochi rice cakes, Anko paste, agar, chestnuts, and sugar.

Lebanese Cuisine

Cuisine in Lebanon food includes many fresh ingredients like vegetables, fruits, seafood, and little animal protein. These ingredients are meticulously prepared in a fusion of Mediterranean and Arabic influences. The most significant feature of this fantastic food is the mezze, a selection of salads, vegetable dips, pickles, and Arabic bread. In recent years, people have come to celebrate the extraordinary flavours of Lebanese food.

Baba Ghanoush – Baba Ghanoush is a hummus-like dip made from eggplant served with pita bread and drizzled with olive oil.

Manakeesh – The Lebanese version of pizza, Manakeesh, is made with meat, cheese, zaatar. Manakeesh is served with tomatoes, cucumbers, fresh mint leaves, and olives.

Falafel – Falafel is made from deep-fried crushed chickpeas, served in a pita pocket with vegetables and tahini sauce.

Fattoush – Fattoush is a traditional Lebanese salad.

Baklava – Baklava is a golden flakey pastry made of filo dough, honey, and assorted nuts.

South African Cuisine

South African cuisine is extensive, culturally diverse, nourishing, and hearty, very much like the locals. Traditional South African cuisine is downright authentic, with influences induced by each culture. With the freshest ingredients from farm to table, the food here is amazingly delectable, making it one of the best foods from around the world!

Chakalaka – Chakalaka is a spicy vegetarian dish of tomato, beans, peppers, onions, and curry. This can be enjoyed with anything — rice, meat, bread, or other veggies.

Bunny chow – Bunny chow is a world-renowned dish made up of a hollowed-out loaf of bread filled with a chicken, pork curry, or a lentil and bean combo.

Bobotie – Bobotie, made up of minced meat, is cooked in curry, herbs & spices, and dried fruit, topped with a milky-eggy custard, and baked until golden brown.

Potjiekos – A dish of potjiekos features meat, potatoes, biltong, and vegetables slowed cooked over an outdoor fire.

Malva Pudding – Malva Pudding is a sweet, spongy cake made with apricot jam and a cream sauce poured on top.

Caribbean Cuisine

Food from the Caribbean is a delicious mix of French cuisine, African cooking, and local foods! Caribbean food is delightfully spicy, warming, and eloquent. Food staples include peppers, sweet potato, coconut, plantain, mutton, tropical fruits, and leafy green vegetables, all prepared into a heady concoction.

Jerk chicken – Chicken marinated with hot Jerk spice and served with rice and peas. Jerk chicken is one of the most traditional food in Jamaica.

Ackee and saltfish – Ackee and saltfish, Jamaica’s national dish, is prepared with ackee fruit and salted codfish, suitable for mealtime.  

Macaroni pie – Macaroni pie is comfort food in the Caribbean; a cheesy baked pasta dish is delicious with stewed or barbecued chicken.

Lambi – Lambi’s main ingredient is Conch. The dish is prepared with a combination of Conch, curry powder, coriander, thyme, and marinating with other spices.

Jamaican Rum Cake – A Bundt cake with a moist and tender crumb smothered in sweet butter and rum syrup.

Oh boy! That’s a long list of the best food from around the world! So, if you would like to go on a culinary adventure and taste your way around the globe, give Travel Center UK a call or drop us a line, and we’ll be glad to assist you in planning your next trip.

Read More:- What’s the most iconic food around the world? Let’s find out!

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