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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 11 months

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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 12

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

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CHAPTER TWELVE: KESLA

“My most sincere apologies, can we be of assistance?” The way the doorman says it sounds so much more like a threat than his words would ever suggest, but he delivers it with just the right kind of blank face I’ve come to know so well in professional security the world over. He’s real large for a human, significantly taller than I am and very broad across his shoulders, built like a particularly heavy orc in fact, almost wide as he is tall, and with no neck at all. The fact that the other man stepping out to join him is almost as big is not lost on me either, his expression as practiced blank as his colleague’s but form still radiating just as much threat.

They’re certainly real impressive as well as intimidating, their clothes the richest I’ve ever seen hired muscle wear, in fact. A mixture of robes and well-made, highly stylised martial uniforms, giving them a certain rakish flow as they move, but clearly made for ease of movement and some protection while still making them appear smart and professional. Silk and linen mixed with wool, but with a significant amount of tough leather in the mix too. And neither make any effort to hide the longswords hanging at their hips.

Doing my best to keep from frowning, I give Sonagh a sidelong glance and he coughs into his fist to clear his throat as he steps forward. “Maybe you could, we’ll have to see. We’re here to see Master Refik Hontiresk.”

The first doorman looks him over for a long beat, and while his expression don’t get any more readable, I get the impression he’s going over Sonagh’s response as much as checking him over. I learned long ago not to take folk on first impressions, but neither o’ these two look all that bright, ‘least not outside the pretty narrow requirements of their profession.

Sonagh certainly looks a good deal more impressive than he has any right to given he was nearly dead less than a week ago. His bugbear barman Dow, who was apparently once a corporal and most his trusted right-hand when he was a sergeant in the Regulars back in the War, certainly set him up well when he promptly answered his call from the temple. Not only did he bring his sword, which he’s wearing just as prominently on his own hip, but also a change of clothes. It’s not quite as striking as his old armour might’ve been, but the battered but well-maintained leather tunic and jacket certainly serve well enough to make him look tough as any old soldier I used to know. Together with his tight ponytail, steely gaze and strong, steady back, he sure don’t look like any kind of pushover right now.

I’m making the full effort myself, even though after last night I don’t feel much better myself. That fall into Big Man’s un-cushioned grasp sure didn’t do my back any favours, even if I did land on top of Shay, who managed to take the brunt of that hit, and even after Krakka and one o’ the temple’s clerics gave me a once-over I still been a little sore since. There’s a lingering stiffness in me, thankfully more in my back than my limbs, but it’s enough I reckon I might be a touch slower’n I’d really like if I had to proper move right now. I’m still really hoping I can just get by on bluffing here.

So I brought my best game here with me instead. I put on my spare jerkin and so Hefdred could hang good and proud at my side, and while I washed the grease outta my hair again I still tied what there is back the best I could to keep it out my face. What’s on top o’ my scalp still ain’t really long enough for a proper ponytail, instead just making for a messy topknot, but with the sides and the back o’ my neck still shorn close I should look suitably fierce, even without the black strip painted across my eyes.

Ain’t taking any chances with it, anyway. I got plenty o’ knives on me ‘well as da’s sword, and I got Yes to dig my spare jack-of -plates outta her bag of holding since the one I been wearing since we left Hocknar got pretty comprehensibly ruined by Tavarrat’s nasty little surprise in the Hardway. It’s the first time I really worn this one so it still needs some breaking in, a little stiff and itchy over my shirt right now, but I’m trying not to let it get to me. Maybe if it does come to a fight I can turn the irritation into a little angry fuel. Certainly with this under the rest o’ my gear I don’t need to worry so much about taking a sly knife in the back, at least.

Thel’s scrubbed up pretty well too, all things considered. I had a couple o’ the clerics give her one last little boost before we left, just to make sure she could stay on her feet and actually be able to carry her weapons without falling over, and it seems to have done a good enough job to at least make her look ready again. She changed into some of her less showy leather gear, but definitely ain’t scrimped on the armaments, bringing her battleaxe along with both handaxes and almost as many knives as I have. She ain’t quite lost the dark smudges round her eyes yet, but the way she’s scowling up at these two right now reckon it could probably be mistaken for smeared kohl.

Besides, it’s Tulen who’s the most uncomfortable one here right now. It was hard enough getting her out of Sessa’s recovery room, but then when she heard my plan she became even more reluctant. I’m not sure I can entirely blame her, she’s clearly deeply nervous about being part o’ something that could potentially blow up bad enough to become a major black-eye for the Silver Order, given we’re here largely on their behest. I wanted to bring her along to give this a little more official weight, but if it were to become an actual incident then it could look very bad for her indeed.

But this is as much for Gael as it is for Madame Daste and Lord Wralin and all their friends and confidantes that’ve been snuffed out this past day and night, and it was enough to get her on board after all. So she pulled on a fresh set of robes, something a little more businesslike this time round, and strapped her own sword back on, as well as finally bowing to Lady Naru’s advice and accepting a loaned staff from the temple. It’s quite a simple piece o’ work compared to most wizard’s staffs I’ve seen, just a simple wooden stave with a few bands of burnished steel beaten into the top, but it looks like it’ll serve well enough for her. And she’s brought her wand and components too, just in case she needs to work some magic after all.

Just as I’m about to clear my own throat and step in to back Sonagh up, the first doorman rumbles: “D’you have an appointment?”

“No, we don’t. But we do have business with him, all the same.” Sonagh don’t move a muscle this time, and his inflection doesn’t change at all. He ain’t giving nothing away.

This just makes the huge man frown even deeper. “Well I’m afraid Master Hontiresk couldn’t possibly see you without one, I’m afraid, whether you got business or not. He’s a real busy man, you understand, and it’s a matter of professional courtesy and propriety.”

Well that settles it, all these big ten copper mark words he’s bandying about speak to this fellow’s intelligence as much as anything else. He may be built like a bruiser, but he clearly ain’t all pure muscle in that skull. Maybe that’s par for the course, though, from what I’m learning about the man I suspect Hontiresk likely prefers to surround himself with smart henchmen. It’d would just make it easier.

“And yet, here we are.” I interject, keeping my voice level as Sonagh’s doing. I got my hands folded behind my back, my feet planted and my expression coolly neutral, not presenting an intentional threat but just letting my sword and size speak loud enough for me. “Trust me, fellas, it’s gonna be very much in his interest to speak with us. It’s better’n the alternative.”

The second one steps a little closer, his own brows knitting a little tighter too, and the first one rolls his shoulders a little as he straightens up to make himself seem even taller. “Now I’m sure that weren’t intended as an actual threat. Cuz that would be foolish.”

“Oh no, of course not. I’m just stating facts. Everything would simply go much smoother if we were allowed to speak to him. Other way’s where the problems start.”

Through the corner of my eye I see Tulen shuffle her feet a little as she moves a little closer to me, and she’s starting to look more nervous than ever. Like she can sense how much of a knife’s edge this is actually sitting on right now …

I really didn’t think the first doorman’s frown could grow any deeper, but it does as he cocks his head a little, looking me over once more, and this time I’m sure his eyes actually linger on Hefdred just for a split. Evaluating me proper now. His fingers flex and curl tight again for a moment as he ponders, which ain’t a good sign.

Honestly, I’d rather not have to follow through on any threats, implied or otherwise. Never mind that it’d be one hell of an incident, looking at these two I ain’t convinced me and Sonagh could actually take ‘em. I know full well Thel ain’t actually up to real violence. Tulen could probably turn the tide if it actually came to it, but that might just make things a whole lot worse.

“No, don’t reckon you will be seeing Master Hontiresk today, Mistress. As I said, not without an appointment. Now, I’d rather you were on your way. Perhaps you could catch the matinee. It’s a whole new production, I’m told.” He offers up a smile, like he’s doing us a favour with this recommendation, but it falls flat together due to the complete lack of change in his tone. Then he gestures to the curving, thickly-carpeted ramp back down the way we came, round the corner. “If you would …”

I just turn to Sonagh again, and he looks my way almost on cue. He simply shrugs, but the way he shifts his stance while letting his wrist hook over his sword’s hilt, only casually resting but with his hand right there if he did need to draw, makes a point on its own.

I just shuffle my own feet again, letting my weight settle onto my left foot while I give my head a cocked little tilt while I let my gaze return to the more garrulous doorman. “Yeah, like I said, ain’t gonna happen. Maybe you should just toddle on back inside and let your high and mighty boss know Kesla Shoon wants a word.”

His jaw tightens as his eyes narrow, and I think I see his composure slip just a little. He turns just enough to give his companion a subtle sidelong glance, and he moves a step forward too, moving out on the left, but his own expression don’t change at all, like his face ain’t even capable. I’m still not sure if this one’s bright as his friend, but he’s ‘least sharp enough to pick up on his cues.

Finally the first one steps closer, and even if his face weren’t clearly darkening the way he’s squaring up now tells me he’s contemplating violence. “Now look here, luv, don’t reckon you heard me, I –”

“That’ll do, Grib.” The voice that checks him is gentler, but similarly deep, richer in tone but carrying similar weight. “You heard the lady sure enough. Best run and give the Master her message.”

The effect this has on both the doormen is surprising, but the more verbal one in particular. They both immediately snap to attention, but he also spins on the spot to dip a very clipped, deferential nod to the newcomer who’s ducked through the door with uncanny stealth before stepping round him and folding himself the best he can back through. The other one stays where he is, but suddenly he’s being very particular about not paying attention to any of us now, like it ain’t his place to actually acknowledge what’s happening.

Curious about this intriguing change in both demeanours, I take a moment to look the newcomer over, immediately surprised to see he’s a full-blooded orc like Sonagh. That being said, they otherwise couldn’t seem more different if they tried.

Sonagh looks like a bone-deep veteran, a real fighter, it’s etched in scars over every inch of him, and ain’t afraid to let folk know he once fought for his country. That longsword at his side is clearly a soldier’s weapon that’s seen a lot of use, a long double-handed hilt with a thick, heavy pommel of simple dark iron and a similarly workmanlike cross-guard, somewhat like a bastard sword. The width of the sheath, though, makes it abundantly clear the blade’s a good deal broader, likely it’s one heavy weapon, well-suited for a true orc as it’s designed to be laid about in big, hard haymaking swings designed to cut foes down left and right in the midst of heavy battle. It’s not a finessed weapon any more’n he’s a finessed warrior, I suspect, but he never made any bones at pretending otherwise.

This one, on the other hand … looking him over, I get the feeling he likely served too, but he’s a good deal younger, likely didn’t see anywhere near so much o’ the battlefield before the Occupation, and for now looks to have mostly gotten by without many real marks. He’s also every inch a good deal smarter in his presentation than Sonagh too, dressed somewhat similar to the two doormen but his costume is a good deal more expensive, genuinely cut to fit and really rather dashing, actually. It don’t look like a uniform on him, these clothes are more like something he chooses to wear which just compliments the style o’ the rest.

This care in his appearance extends to his grooming, too. He wears his thick, naturally shaggy black hair trimmed fairly short for an orc that don’t just shave his head instead, cropped a little below his jawline and clearly slicked back with much more expensive oils than I ever use. His beard’s full but trimmed real close all the same, seeming less like a particularly thick scruff than something he obviously pays a lot of attention to curating on a morning. As he lets his hand rest in a very obvious conscious gesture on his own sword’s hilt I notice his nails are almost ridiculously well-maintained too, which is something I never heard of an orc doing. This is one seriously cultured son of a bitch, clearly.

But that sword at his hip … yeah, that’s a warning clear as his manner, all the same. In spite of all his fancy duds and fancy grooming, that sword speaks volumes about how serious he really is. This one is a bastard sword, like my own, guard and pommel looking like darkly polished copper ‘stead of steel but clearly well-worn as Hefdred, while the particular soft sheen o’ the leather on the hilt says it’s been handled a lot.

He looks at us all with a good deal more calm care than the two doormen did, one brow cocking just a little as he gives Sonagh a once-over, definitely measuring him up. They’re both of a size with one another, so it’s more like a younger man measuring himself up to his obvious elder. For now they both seem to be tolerant enough of each other, but I wonder how easily this could turn into a pissing contest, and how bad that could be for the rest of us.

Finally he turns to me, giving me a second, closer examination now, and Hefdred in particular. Finally he tips his chin up, cocking his head just a little. “You’d be Mistress Shoon, I take it? Doubt very much the daughter of Edhril Shoon joined the Silver Order, after all.” He shoots a quick glance at Tulen, and through the corner of my eye I see her cheeks start to darken a little again.

I just maintain my air of indifference as I leave my own hand where it is on my sword too as a counterpoint. “You reasoned right there, mate. That’d be me.”

Nodding, he shifts his own footing to match mine. Like he’s reading me as the biggest threat here, even though Sonagh’s bigger and very obviously an orc like him. “Seems about right. You’re definitely big enough. So I understand you have … business with Master Hontiresk here? But you don’t have n appointment, which does make things rather … difficult for me. Means I have to make it difficult for you.”

“You mean like us handing everything over before you’ll let us through, something like that? And I suspect you’re probably gonna request we leave Tulen out here, since you can’t trust a wizard won’t try anything anyway, even without any weapons, if we’re so inclined as to make things more difficult for you. We on the same page there?”

He tilts his head a little more as he waves his free hand off to the side in a little shrug. “That would be the smart play if I were to let you through. And yet …”

“And yet, that ain’t gonna happen. Not after what we been put through this past week at the behest o’ your boss and the hands o’ the people working for him.” I step forward now, brushing past Sonagh now as I get right up in front of the newcomer, and look right up at him. He may have five whole inches on me but I still give him the full force of my blank stare. “So we ain’t giving up our weapons, not for you, or anybody else you send. We see Hontiresk as we are. And we will be seeing him.”

The orc looks right back down at me for a long beat, not blinking, and I try my damnedest to do the same, even though it does start to niggle at my eyes some after a little while. Then he finally smiles, not quite stepping back but still shifting his footing again so he can give me a little space after all. “Yeah, reckon I like you as much as I thought I would. You really are his little girl.” He tips a respectful little nod now. “Gubal Spine-Render. I’m Master Hontiresk’s chief o’ security. Means what I say goes on that front. So if you won’t be handing over your weapons, but you still insist on this, then I’ll have your word you’re all gonna behave.” He gives me a particularly pointed look now, serious again. “You being his daughter, given what I know of the man himself, imagine you’re cut from the same cloth, so …”

Damn it … he’s got me there. Maybe I can at least trust it means he’ll make sure things go easier on us in there, so I don’t have to keep one eye wandering the whole time just in case. So I take a deep breath and step forward again, extending my free hand even as I keep the other right where it already is. “Yeah, sure. You have my word. And that’ll go for the rest of us too. Obviously. So long as you extend us the same courtesy, o’ course.”

This time he proper grins, not even needing to step forward this time as he just reaches out to give my hand a good, hard crush. Not tight enough to hurt me, but he definitely makes the point that he could if he wanted to. “I’ll do what I can. Long as you behave.”

As he lets go again and steps back, the original doorman ducks back through and lumbers over, still frowning up a storm. He gives me a particularly dark look as he arrives, his jaw clenched tight, then leans in close to mutter to this Gubal fellow: “Boss says all right, he’ll see ‘em. If you’re sure it’s safe, that is.”

“We just worked that out, yes.” He gives the big man a gentle tap in the side of his arm and starts to back up towards the doorway, gesturing for us to make our way inside as he opens some room for us now. “By all means, after you.”

Turning back, I step up to Tulen and lean close, lowering my voice to a whisper now. “Might be the best time.”

The dragonhalf frowns at me for a beat, flicking a look past me as she’s clearly watching Gubal and the rest of this particularly intimidating security force. “You’re sure?”

“Enough.” I give a little shrug, and turn away before she can answer, stepping after Sonagh as he follows Thel through the doorway. The fact that she’s a moment catching up with us after tells me that she did indeed bow her head for a moment and close her eyes with her hands folded so she could send Lady Naru the go-message.

Stepping into the long, curving corridor beyond, the light remains the same with more of those brightly burning oil-lamps lining the walls, not to mention more of that rich gold leaf detailing so much more of everything here, as it did on the way in. This whole place is just covered in the stuff, I noticed, an almost ridiculous nod to unapologetic highborn opulence highlighting vast stretches of intricately carved wooden moulding lining the walls. It picks up the lamplight and intentionally reflects it, seeming to make every inch of the place gleam and glisten around us, like we’re in some absurdly clean gold mine with thick red carpets under our feet.

Honestly, I never really been one for the theatre, but I’ve gone to a few shows in Hocknar since we set up our base there, mostly at the insistence of Gael, who enjoyed having an occasional opportunity to enjoy something of her old life back in Bavat. Granted, the few playhouses there are in that far more northern city ain’t no great shakes, they’re just poky converted warehouses filled with simple bench-seating with a stage set up at one end and backrooms for the cast and crew. And the companies that ply their trade there, they tell me, are somewhat amateurish compared to those in bigger cities, but they make up for their lack of training with enthusiasm, and I’ll admit the few times we been I’ve enjoyed myself well enough. I know Tabaphic has the biggest and most expensive playhouses in all of Rundao, but back then I never had time or taste for any of that, so it’s been an interesting learning experience for me.

I’m definitely getting an idea of what that’s really all about now, though. This place is nothing like those ramshackle, makeshift old buildings up north, it’s like I stepped into a whole other world. Something as strange and alien to me as any time I ever set foot in any rich estate or official seat of government during our business before now, but a whole lot more baffling, too. We’ve arrived a little before the matinee, I understand, pretty much muscled our way in before Sonagh guided us up here, but the place is already starting to come alive as folk get ready for the big show. Apparently this is the first matinee performance of a brand new play, just opened, and the whole place is alive with feverish activity to make sure the second performance runs as smooth as last night’s big premier.

Before we left Sonagh conferred with Sirsk, before they went off with Shay and Lady Naru, to work out the best way to go about getting hold of Hontiresk, and after we’d finally won ‘em over to this particular plan, at least dubiously, they came up with this place. Apparently while his main domain of influence here in Untermer is the docks, the Administrator prefers to defer much of the day-to-day business of running that to his various underlings, preferring to concentrate his own attentions on where his true passion lies. The theatre, particularly the Oceanic Playhouse, which is supposedly the true crown jewel of the arts in all of Tao. And he owns the place …

To be fair, his family has owned it for generations, but since he was the only child of his late father it’s essentially the same thing. He was raised around this place, as much as in their rich, expansive estate, and it permeated deep into his blood over the years, becoming the one thing that mattered the most to him in all the world. He spends most of his working time here, at least when he doesn’t have to be at Redarra House or the Transit House to take care of those aspects of Administration business that he absolutely must handle himself. Schmoosing with his richest investors, moulding the talent, or just indulging in his biggest personal vice – theatricality itself. He lords over every aspect of the Playhouse’s operation, making sure everything is operating at its most optimal setting at all times, and reaping the rewards that this then bestows upon him.

This place is a money-making machine, apparently. For centuries, his family have been living large off the profits they been able to squeeze out this place, even at the height of the Wars when the country was at its most fearful, although in a way that makes perfect sense. When shit’s at its worst folk will do anything to distract themselves, and what could be better than the evocative fantasy world theatre allows them to dive into for three or more hours at a time? Hontiresk almost don’t need an inheritance with what he can pull out of here in just a month …

Since they just opened a brand new play, there was nowhere else that he was going to be. Sirsk tells us he has a relatively modest apartment in the topmost level of the backstage for whenever he has to stay overnight, so he likely never even left after the premier. So we went to the temple’s private teleportation circles and Tulen worked her magic and dropped the four of us right outside, and now here we are.

There’s music coming from the main chamber of the theatre itself, but it ain’t like anything I ever heard. It’s not particularly tuneful, more like just rising and falling notes on various instruments, and it keeps starting and stopping. I asked Tulen about it earlier, when we were making our way round to this entrance to the box seats, and she said that it’s the orchestra warming up for their performance. That boggled me some, hearing that – an orchestra? An honest to the gods fucking orchestra? Bloody hell, back in Hocknar the places we went to had to make do with glorified tavern bands, and even then they’d mostly just strike up to accompany bawdy jigs or ballads the actors might strike up during the course of a play. She told me that here they play quite often throughout the performances, in order to create what she called “atmospheric ambience”. I never heard of anything like it, in fact it weirds me out. Music to accompany the characters living their lives, that’s just … wrong to me.

“Have you never been to an opera, then?” Thel asked me after that, and I had to shake my head. I understand the concept, Gael’s explained it to me, and I’ve heard snatches of some when I’ve met other wizards, they seem to enjoy weaving spells that let them play what they call “recordings” out of thin air. But even so that’s even more of a truly alien concept to me. Folk going round singing about everything they’re doing instead of just talking, or even just doing it … bloody rich people proper confuse me sometimes.

“So what’s the show?” I find myself asking now as Gubal catches up with me and falls into step on my left. He cocks a brow as he watches me for a beat, likely wondering what I mean. “The play. That just opened.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” He smiles again, and it’s a good deal more disarming this time. Honestly, he seems like an alright sort actually, despite the company he keeps, and his clear personal vanity. I could almost like him. “It’s the second of two plays we got from a playwright from Tektehr. He’s been taking much o’ the North by storm, I’m told, he’s real good. Dark and violent stories, like you usually get from up there, but I s’pose that’s to be expected. Ain’t seen it performed myself yet, I was pretty busy last night. Truth be told I’m looking forward to getting a chance to catch this matinee, see what all the fuss is about.”

“And the other one? You said you got two.”

“We did, yes. They’re a proper duo, they’re s’posed to be seen one after the other, they tell a larger story. It’s an entirely new concept, I hear, which is why all the fuss. First half’s been playing here for almost a month already, and it’s been one o’ the biggest smashes we’ve had in a real long time, I’m told.”

“But you have to see that one first, before this one? Otherwise you don’t know what’s going on?” I frown when he nods, having to shake my head. I don’t understand that, it sounds even more needlessly complicated really. Besides, it’s from Tektehr. Don’t sound like my kinda thing at all.

There’s a lot of guards in here, I notice. I feel their eyes scanning us as we pass, various large men in the same striking uniforms as the two we met outside, all conspicuously armed, and there’s as many half-orcs as big humans here. It’s becoming abundantly clear that Hontiresk ain’t a man who likes to take any chances in life, and seeing all this makes me worry about our chances if we did have to start something, or ‘least finish it.

Then halfway round Gubal takes a step to the side, moving towards a pair of open doors with another of his breezy, gesturing hands guiding us to follow him. “If you would.”

Shooting a look to Sonagh, I let him go ahead while I look down at Thelgaewynn. She’s starting to breath heavy, I notice, likely winded by the stairs when we were coming up and now suffering worse from the gentle slope of the ramp coming round here too. When she realises I’m waiting for her she looks up, frowning deep, looking distinctly unhappy, but she just shakes her head, as if to warn me off from asking after her. So I hold my tongue and just give her a reassuring pat on her shoulder as she passes me, turning to Tulen.

“How you doin’?”

This makes her frown too, and she has to think for a moment before answering. “I’m not sure … I mean I’m nervous as hell right now, I don’t like this at all. This seems like a very bad idea.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it probably is.” I lean closer still, so I can just breathe the words to her. “But don’t forget, it ain’t really about us, it’s about the others. We’re just the distraction, remember?”

Tulen looks down now, sighing deep, and when she gives the borrowed staff a good close grip to her chest it’s a gesture that reminds me of Gael. “Yes, I do. Of course, you’re right. I’m just … I don’t want to make things worse.”

“You make things worse?” I have to stifle a bitter laugh at that. “You prob’ly got the most level head here right now, I’m counting on you to keep the rest of us honest in this. Just watch our backs while you’re at it, yeah?” I reach out and give her shoulder a firmer squeeze. “You picking up on anything?”

“No, nothing that seems out of the ordinary.” She looks around us now. “Not that I really know what I’d be looking for. Gael’s the expert in this …”

“Yeah, but they ain’t here. We’re doing this for them. Might just be we get ‘em back doing this.” Letting go, I step back and turn away again, not particularly surprised to find Gubal waiting by the open doors, watching us both closely, his expression mostly expectant, but a little more complex besides. I wonder how well he’s reading the situation on his end.

“In here, then?” I muse out loud for his benefit as I step past him, looking back to make sure Tulen’s still following me now. So when I step inside I don’t see what’s actually going on in here until I turn round again.

Obviously, I never been in a big fancy theatre like this, so I don’t really know what these fancy big private boxes are actually all about, but seeing it all now I think I get what these rich folk are actually about a little more now. This is all about getting to enjoy the big theatre experience while having as much privacy and security as possible, it’s perfect for someone who’s likely as understandably paranoid as Hontiresk. There’s a surprising amount of space back here, although given there’s four more big guards in here I ain’t really feeling the full benefit of it.

Breaking away from us at last, Gubal heads over to a trio of smaller, more normal looking folk stood just short of the collection of almost ridiculously oversized, softly-upholstered chairs set just behind the balcony. Beyond is the main open space of the theatre itself, a great gaping cavernous emptiness where I can vaguely make out a whole lot more seats spreading out below, and the stage itself below. Some of the most enormous thick, opulently rich red velvet curtains hang open on either side of it, while something vaguely resembling a forest scene seems to be set out on the open boards. I say forest only because it's suggested by what looks like wooden partitions with trees painted on them, but then I understand it’s s’posed to be more about what you can imagine than what’s actually there, anyway. Gael called it “suspension of disbelief”, which just sounds like a headache for me.

The three individuals seem to be deep in a somewhat heated conversation, but they break off when the orc steps up and ducks down to speak close and quiet to the one in the middle, who’s holding an open leatherbound folio in his hands. Like he’s been checking off details while they’ve all been arguing. He listens close, but after a moment his eyes turn my way while Gubal’s still speaking, and they narrow as they take me in.

Honestly, I don’t know if I’m just surprised or genuinely disappointed. Rekik Hontiresk looks younger and a lot more unassuming than I expected him to, in truth he’s one of the most average human males I reckon I ever come across, actually. In many ways he’s very much like most o’ the pompous highborn types I had to deal with in my line o’ work, but I guess I just expected something … well, more of the man who wants us all dead and out of his way.

Clearly Thel’s thinking the same thing I am, openly scowling as she looks the Administrator over. He’s of decidedly average height and growing a bit portly, although his rich grey silk robes have definitely been tailored well enough to mostly hide this fact. His ginger hair’s thinning on top and seems to be greying already, but he just brushes it back and lets it hang wispy like he don’t care what people think of him. He’s clean shaven, which to me seems a bit of a mistake given how weak his chin is, only accentuating his unpleasantly thin, cruel mouth, while his thin nose is hooked like the beak of a particularly vicious bird of prey. His eyes though … yeah, there’s definitely something a whole lot more striking about them. Pale, almost steely grey-blue, and deeply piercing, alive with a particularly fierce intelligence, I can see. And, from the look of it, not an ounce of mercy. This is a cold, ruthless man, and now I’m looking at him in a whole new light the rest of his appearance almost feels like a particularly clever disguise …

When Gubal finally stops speaking he simply nods, and the orc backs away while his boss frowns down at his folio for a long moment, working his mouth as he pores over the contents a little more, then snaps it closed before handing it off to the left. The man there seems almost surprised to have it simply shoved in his face, like he considers himself above such things, but the moment those freezing eyes turn to him and latch on sharp he balks, clearing his throat as he steps back. He averts his eyes fast, too, visibly paling despite the fact he's taller, clearly older and definitely more physically imposing.

The other man seems slower on the uptake, starting to speak now, but when Hontiresk raises his hand and lifts a single finger his words choke right off, shoulders visibly slumping while his eyes go wide too. Then he nods, clipped, and steps back too, also looking away.

“Thank you gentlemen, I believe there’s time enough for a small recess. Clearly there are more pressing matters for me to attend to at this time.” He turns away now, hissing: “That will be all.” over his shoulder before turning to a small table I now notice set just behind the back row of seats. Opening a large box, very rich, gleaming red wood inlaid with etched gold inlay. Seems to be a theme, I’m starting to notice.

As he starts rooting in the box, the two men hustle out of the room, barely registering us as they scurry on, clearly more worried about him right now. I notice Gubal smirking as he steps back our way, reaching up to give his chin an idle little stroke now with thoughtful fingers. “Well, you said you wanted to see the man, so …”

Giving him a particularly sharp look, I step aside so he can walk past me and take a few closer to the Administrator himself. He’s snapped the lid closed again, now rolling what I see is a particularly long, thick cigar between his fingers, close under his nose now, as he turns back to look us all over.

I’m about to speak up when another substantial guard steps in through the doorway and goes straight to Gubal, leaning close so he can whisper to him. The orc frowns immediately, flashing a surprisingly wary look at his boss, then just breaks away, hustling right out the door, the newcomer following close behind. I wonder what that’s about as I turn back.

To find Hontiresk still just looking me over in particular with a far more critical eye. He’s stopped fiddling with the cigar, now producing a small piece of silvered metal from somewhere inside his robe which he fits over some of his fingertips before giving it a little squeeze and snipping the tip off the cigar. “I am deeply curious what all of this is about. I never would have expected you to have come here. To be honest I can’t decide if it smacks more of immense bravery or misguided foolishness. Or perhaps it’s simply desperation.”

“That’s cute. Personally, I could almost wonder the same thing about you, mate. ‘Specially given what you let your pet psycho off her leash to do the past two days an’ nights.”

Cocking a brow, he slips the silver cutter back inside his robe and then produces another intriguing little object which he snaps open to reveal matches. He slips one out and idly starts to twist it about between his fingers, proving impressively adept considering he’s doing all of this while also holding onto the cigar. “Why, whoever might you mean by that?”

“Fucking creepy pale bitch, name o’ Vandryss, who’s been dogging us one way or another for more’n a week now. She’s now murdered half the Hill, from what we can tell. I wanted to know how you felt about that, if you thought that was any better an idea than kidnapping our friend. Or their father.”

Biting the cigar between his teeth, Hontiresk closes the clever little matchbox up and turns it over, striking the match against a section of crosshatching on the side before lighting up with a single stroke. He takes a few moments to suck on the cigar, clearly taking his time over it, and I get the feeling it’s as much to make me wait for his answer, which just irks me. His face is cool and almost unfathomably calm, and it fills me with a powerful itch to punch him repeatedly as he watches me through the billowing smoke.

“My dear Mistress Shoon, I can assure you that none of these … fascinatingly outlandish charges could possibly be levelled at my feet, for I am a simple servant of the people. Like all my fellow Administrators. Especially the poor, late Madame Daste. I was so upset to hear of her sudden passing. I don’t suppose you would have any idea what happened there?”

“Not so much as you do, I’m sure.” I chance a sidelong look to the others, who are watching him with similar closely guarded disdain, I can see. Even Tulen seems to be getting over her former awkwardness now, instead seeming mostly offended by this man’s mocking demeanour.

“Oh no, surely not. These things are so bad for business, after all.”

“That’s all it’s really about, of course. Ain’t it? Business. With the North?”

“Well, our friends from Tektehr can be surprisingly accommodating customers and business partners when there are opportunities to be had. Although I would, of course, understand your reticence, given past …” He muses for a long beat after sucking in a deep drag, then breathes out as he adds: “… associations.”

Ignoring the obvious poke, I have to clench my jaw to keep from snapping my response. “Yeah … not really what I was thinking about, there. I meant your other friends. A bit further north, if you will.”

Now he pauses, his brow starting to crease a little bit as he falters, although he covers well enough I almost miss it. Instead of responding this time he takes another big pull and when he breathes out this time he blasts the smoke directly at me, so that when it reaches me the spreading cloud envelopes me. I don’t wave it away, but it’s tough to fight the urge, this shit stinks. Never been a big fan o’ that weird Abharetian weed, folk actually burning it and then sucking on the smoke makes no sense to me, but the smell’s always been the worst thing for me.

“There’s nothing further north than Tektehr. At least nothing that anyone here deals with, I’m sure.” He says this with a good deal more conviction, almost like he actually believes it, and it makes me wonder if he really knows what Vandryss is actually about. He folds his arms across his chest now, and it feels like he’s getting defensive, despite his words and tone. “You might want to rethink your line of questioning.”

Cocking my head now, I try a different tack. “So the shipments that your man Jammund’s been sending up there, all that … live cargo … that’s just going to the Tektehrans, then?”

His frown deepens a little as he looks me over, tilting his head somewhat to get a fresh angle, looks like. “My, you are deeper in this than I gave you credit for, aren’t you? I won’t waste your time any more than I’d waste my own playing around, then, it’s clearly not doing either of us any favours, so I won’t bother warning you off anymore since you’re clearly of a mind to turn this all over after all. I imagine you wouldn’t be inclined to take your people and just leave the city, forget you ever heard about any of this after all, would you?”

“Not with one o’ my best friends being tortured or gods know what else by that sick, twisted cunt under your orders, I won’t. And definitely not after you lot tried to kill us a bunch o’ times now. Most of all though, cuz you killed some folk we all become real fond of, including a boy who barely got a chance at life. For Deriel Vezrim alone I’m tempted to snap your neck with my bare hands right here.”

Several of the guards still gathered around us start to move towards me at that, they’re impressively on the ball, but he stills them all with a single raised hand. He can read how empty that threat really was, ‘least under the present circumstances. But he can also tell I’m honest in my sentiment, nodding now as he loosens his arms again and takes another large drag as he starts to move to the side of the room instead, shooing one of his men out the way. Now I see the small wet bar he’s heading to.

“I don’t think I’ll offer you a drink after all, decorum can be damned.” Uncapping a decanter, he starts to fill a single cut glass tumbler. “Usually I’m far more lenient with my enemies, I play along with the perceived game of civility until I can find a point of weakness and then strike deep for a mortal wound. But with you I’m just going to be honestly and brutally straight.” Setting the cap back in the bottle, he lifts the glass and, after giving me a beat’s narrow-eyed look, knocks the whole thing back in a single gulp. Then he tosses the glass back onto the top of the bar without even bothering to see how it lands and just walks back, this time stepping right up to me as he licks his teeth clean. Looking right up into my eyes, despite our significant height difference.

“You’re all going to die if you stay here. Every last one of you. You may think you’re safe and secure in Minerva’s temple, but I assure you, hiding in the Gods’ Round is, at best, a bandage on an arterial bleed. You have cost me enough money already, and every moment you insist on continuing this ridiculous, misguided crusade of yours only succeeds in costing me more. I have more money than I could ever wish to count, but I value ever copper mark of it, so you are preying on my patience as well. And that is a resource of which I have a far more modest collection.” Reaching up now, he sucks another deep lungful from his cigar and blows the whole breath right into my face, and I really have to fight the urge to lamp him right here. “So you would do well to heed this last, most generous warning and just leave. Now. Or I will butcher you all, and every family member you have, everyone they’ve ever known too if you make it necessary for me to extend my wrath so far. Please, test me. I promise you’ll regret it before I send you to meet whichever god you favour most.” Stepping back, he gives me one more look down and up again, seeming more non-plussed than ever. “Given the look of you, it could only be Thorin.”

I’m worked up enough it takes me a moment to notice the raised voices approaching fast from the antechamber outside, and another to realise I actually recognise one of ‘em, too. A lot’s happened since the other night on the Heath but I’m sharp enough to remember that one. Turning to follow Hontiresk’s glance towards the door, I’m already stepping back towards my friends when two new figures shove through ahead of Gubal before stopping just inside as they take in the scene. More’n a little surprised by what they found, clearly.

Well shit … I almost can’t believe my eyes when I see the tall one looking me over now, even though it already occurred to me that I might be seeing at least some o’ that other mercenary crew here with the rest of Hontiresk’s people. She’s just as impressive now as she was when I saw her last, even if she is somewhat more dressed down this time.

So this is Dramrath Mallys, if Sonagh got it right after all. Seeing her in simple britches, tall boots and a lightweight buckskin jacket instead of her expensive leather armour is very interesting, it’s a striking difference, and now I think I understand what her appeal must be to that young half-orc she was with. She is sexy, exuding a lithe, vital athletic sensuality which I don’t doubt is an entirely unconscious thing for her, certainly with her much looser hair giving her a more feminine air. But she’s still got that lethal sword of hers on her hip, and just one glance tells me that ain’t all she’s carrying right now.

The short one I ain’t seen before, but even before I see how Thel reacts to her I know who this is. She’s the half-hob cleric that damn near killed her. She’s a little smaller than Art, and seems just as lean and lithe, the way she moves, and her entirely black wardrobe grants her a little more of a cosmetic similarity too. That being said, there’s something more priestly to her outfit, more like Krakka’s which marks her as a servant of Corvina, not least the decidedly on-the-nose mantle of her cloak, clearly made of actual raven feathers. But instead of a hammer she seems to favour a sword, although I’ll admit I ain’t seen one like this before, a strange, thin curved weapon which looks almost long as Thel is tall, which she’s just carrying round sheathed in her hand.

She’s a pretty little thing, too, but very young, from what I can see. Maybe Gael’s age, even. Just one look tells me she ain’t like any of our other enemies in this room, she ain’t a proper killer, even if she is a hired thug like Mallys. There’s too much softness in her face, still too much innocence in her big, dark eyes. Honestly, now I see her there’s no wonder she didn’t finish Thel off when she had the chance.

When she steps inside she stops dead the moment she spots the dwarf, her eyes going wide and her mouth falling open in clear shock. It’s a complicated look, too, I can’t tell if she’s feeling relief or sadness or a strong dose of guilt, but I think it could be all three at once. It takes her a beat to find her voice. “You … you’re … My Lady, I don’t believe it … you’re not dead.”

“No, I ain’t.” Thel growls, her face darkening instantly. “Not for lack o’ you fuckin’ trying!” She starts forward right away, and I can see the two guards closest to her starting to shift too, although their intentions are a little less clear while she just goes straight for the handaxe on her left hip.

Thankfully Tulen’s already realised what’s about to happen and she immediately lunges forward, crouching somewhat as she just lets go of the borrowed staff so she can wrap both her arms right round the dwarf from behind, trapping her arms as she hugs her close. Thel squawks in indignant surprise as she’s dragged backwards again, her feet peddling somewhat uselessly now to thump on the carpet, and she starts to thrash immediately, trying to wrestle her way out of the dragonhalf’s iron-strong grip.

“What … fuck, get off me! Tulen, let me go! Let me fucking … just let me kill this little bitch! I owe you blood! I fucking swear I will end you, you little shit!”

The young cleric’s backing away, clearly alarmed by this particularly strong reaction, and she almost seems hurt too, but not particularly surprised. Mallys, meanwhile, is just staring at me, her expression unreadable. But she’s got her left hand gripped tight round the top of her sword’s sheath, the fingers of her right working as she’s clearly itching to draw on me.

“Ah, yes.” Hontiresk steps forward now, surprising me somewhat as he stops right next to me. “Dramrath, good. Your timing is impeccable. Would you and your … interesting young friend be so kind as to escort our guests back out into the street? Whatever you do after that is entirely up to you, but I would encourage you to start doing the job I hired you for while you have this golden opportunity.”

This seems to snap her out of something of a trance as she blinks and turns to him. Now I can see there’s a definite tension in her, the stiffness in the way her head moves on her neck giving it away, while I see the fire in her eyes as well as tiny traces of dark smoke starting to curl from her nostrils. She was already angry, it seems, when she came, even before she saw we were here. Now, seeing me she just got wound a whole lot tighter still.

“What the … fuck are they doing … I can’t … what?”

“As I said,” Hontiresk deliberately adds a note of irritated insistence to his voice now, while his face visibly tightens in well-restrained annoyance. “Would you both please escort these four … unwanted visitors out so I don’t have to order my own men to ruin my private box trying to remove them instead? If you would be so kind?”

“What?” She practically snarls the word now, visibly foaming at the mouth now, and I wonder if her redirected anger might put him in danger instead. It’s certainly having an interesting effect on his bodyguards. “You want … but … no, I need to talk to you. Right now! This is more important. That fucking bitch that you’re –”

“Dramrath, I am holding onto my patience by the barest thread. I would advise you to do as you’re told, and remember that you have already taken my very generous down-payment on good faith. If you want the rest of that money, and for the rest of your miserable gang to live to see their next Winterheart festival I would urge you to do as you’re fucking told.” He crushes the rest of his cigar into a bent, crumpled little wad, despite the fact it’s still lit, and tosses it aside, the closest guard having to scramble to retrieve and extinguish it before it ignites the carpet. “Please.”

“Never mind.” I sigh as I step away from him, taking a circling path away from Mallys and her alarmed young friend as I head for the door, tapping Sonagh on the shoulder as I pass him. “We’re leaving anyway. It was no pleasure at all making your acquaintance, Master Hontiresk. Honestly, I’d be happy enough if we never met again.”

I don’t bother looking back to judge if that gets a reaction out of him or not, instead laying my hand on Tulen’s shoulder too and giving her a little nudge towards the door along with me. ‘Least Sonagh seems to have enough piece of mind as he starts moving himself to stoop to retrieve Tulen’s new staff before following.

“Fuck!” I hear Mallys growl behind me as I duck out the doorway, but by this point I’ve already come face to face with Gubal, who’s regarding me with an interesting mix of dubious concern and wry amusement.

“Back out the way we came, I s’pose?” I venture now, and the cocky half-smile I try on feels surprisingly solid.

“Prob’ly best, aye.” He nods as he steps aside and gestures round the gently curving way we previously came. “Might wanna make it hasty.”

“No need to worry ‘bout that.” I manage something like a wolfish grin this time as I grab hold of Thel’s arm as Tulen finally manages to manhandle her through the doors and she finally gives up resisting.

“For fuck’s sake … I was owed, you could’ve let me –”

“Just quit it, Thel.” I growl at her as I guide us round the gentle curving slope of the passage again at a brisk clip, and the dwarf has to trot somewhat to keep from losing her footing and getting dragged. “This ain’t the time, remember? Revenge really wasn’t the point o’ this.”

She don’t answer that, which tells me I finally got through to her, reminded her of the real plan. So she shrugs loose of Tulen’s grip at last and starts walking on her own, going fast to match our pace. I know full well that Mallys and her friend will be coming fast once they’ve extricated themselves from the box and the rest o’ the guards.

Shooting a sharp sidelong glance to Tulen, I lower my voice to a hissing whisper now. “Reckon you can muster up a quick jump for us soon as we’re outside?”

“Of course.” She collects her borrowed staff from Sonagh now as he falls into step beside her. “What about the others? Do you think they’re … you know …”

“I really don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 4 chapter 12 #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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empatheticxangel · 1 year

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Retired Veteran AU Info

The following info is for an au for Liam. This verse can also be applied to the trans verse however I will be typing it out referring directly to Liam.

The contents under the cut will be

About Backstory Extras

ABOUT

Name: Liam Incern Age: 21-32 (This verse will only apply to Liam as an adult Hair Color: Silver and Turquoise (Angel Form), Silver (Human Form) Eye Color: Gold with a light blue Sclera (Angel Form), Gold (Human Form) Height: 6′2 Orientation: Pansexual/Panromantic Nationality: British-American Occupation: Retired General, Aspiring Lawyer. Blood type: Unknown Blood Color: Bluish teal(at rest) Special Feature(s): Freckles, Eye Color, Hair color, Missing right arms, Eyepatch over right eye, Missing right wing Languages known: English, Aengel Weapon(s) of Choice: Cane, Formerly a sword, Magic

Written Appearance: Liam is a 6'2 tall male with a moderately athletic and strong body type though noticeably not as strong looking as he is in the main verse. As normal, in human form he has brown skin with light colored freckles over his body, however instead of long, light blonde hair and turquoise eyes, his hair is a medium silver color pulled back into a short ponytail and his eyes are gold.

His angel form is the same with whitish-silver skin with teal and turquoise markings and freckles, his hands only have 4 fingers instead of five, two-toed feet with a hook on the back, silver hair fading to turquoise, a white and yellow wing and gold eyes with light blue sclera.

However the most noticeable different is the lack of a right arm in human form, and both right arms in angel form. He also wears a medical eyepatch over his right eye and there is a missing wing on his right side, with the yellow feathers being noticeably short in length. There is also very noticeable scarring over his face and back.

BACKSTORY

Just like Liam in the main verse, he is the youngest child out of 16 of Leon and Diana Incern. His life up is relatively the same filled with constant training to eventually join the military, the family dynamics and all. However things changed once Liam had gone to war. Around 600 years in, Liam found himself ambushed by Demons and suffered incredibly serious injuries. He survived but only barely.

Both of his right arms were missing, he had several deep scratches and cuts to his body and face that damaged one of his eyes, and one of his wings was completely torn off while the other was barely hanging on. His right leg was also injured in the scuffle, requiring him to use a cane.

With an Angels’ wings being the source of their magic and their healing, he was not able to fully heal all of his injuries on his own and will now have permanent scarring unless his lost wing is retrieved and re-attached. Due to such serious injuries with no guarantee he would make it and even then the long recovery time, he was honorably discharged and sent home to recover for the duration for the war. All preparations he had made to potentially join the Angel Council after the war was void at this point, as Liam found him himself mentally struggling to adjust to his new physical limitations and felt he was no longer fit to join in his current state.

After recovery he resides outside of his own dimension, due to the Angels’ lack of consideration for handicapped Angels due to it being so rare.

Liam in this verse is far more pessimistic and sad, but often tries to not seem as “pathetic” as he deems he is even to the point of pushing himself too far and avoiding asking for help even when he really needs it.

EXTRAS:

Due to missing a wing, Liam’s hair and eye color do not fully change as they should when he is in Human form.

He keeps a cane on his person at all times.

He has declined use of a prosthesis in any form or fashion.

When his mental health improves, he strives once again to achieve his past dream of achieving a career in law.

Due to War and the Military being held to such high importance in the Angel Country, being discharged for such a reason is not looked down upon and once the war had ended he had been awarded greatly and receives compensation for his time served and to accommodate his inability to work due to his injuries.

#Shed Your Bloodstained Wings || Out of Character #Alternate Timelines Converge || AU #Honorably Discharged || Retired Veteran AU #Listen To Your Heart || About

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deexchanel · 3 years

Text

Vacation

Word Count:

Pairing: Avengers x BlackFem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, A tipsy reader, Fluff maybe?

Summary: the avengers finally have a break off from avenging the world. The first place they go for vacation? Maui Hawaii.

A/N: You guys liking my content means a lot💜💜. when writing one-shots why don't people put oufits? i wanna see wtf i be wearing since im y/n!😂 I got some long faux locs in my hairrr sooo ykk i had to put it in here🙂

Y/N stood in the kitchen pouring coconut rum into a drink that she found a recipe for on google. It was called a mermaid cocktail and it looked like something she could get away with, without any of her family members saying something. "I'm so ready to drink this, it looks so good." She mumbled stirring the rum mixture.

She is 23 years old but the team still treats her like a little kid. As of right now, everyone was taking a nap from their huge lunch. All those missions they work was eventually stressing them out so Y/N took it upon herself to plan a vacation for them. She rented out a huge beach house for them. Best idea everr!!

Seeing the smiles on their face made her feel so content with her main priorities being happy. "What are you making?" Loki's voice said from behind her. Y/N gave him a big toothy grin. "Oh, nothingggg!"

"You're up to no good, I know you are." Loki raised an eyebrow at her turquoise-looking drink. "I'm not going to even ask." He sat down at the island, shaking his head. Y/N could feel something was off with him. She put the pitcher in the refrigerator, then sat beside him in the chair.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm thinking Y/N."

"About? We're on vacation Loki, we can think when we're back at the tower doing boring missions." Y/N stared at his jet black hair, having the urge to run her fingers through it.

"No, you can't touch my hair." Loki knew exactly what she was thinking. Y/N pout her bottom lip, squinting her eyes. "That's not what I was going to do. Anyway, what are you thinking about?"

"I feel out of place. I just know they are still mad with me from the events of New York." Loki buries his face in his hands. "I want to go back to Asgard, I know they'll rather want me there than here."

Y/N removed his hands."What makes you think that Loki? If none of wanted you here then I wouldn't have told you about this trip. " She giggled making him let a small smile creep on his face. "You're right where you belong and if anyone isn't happy about you being here then just know that Thor and I are ecstatic to have you here. I'm glad you came, means a lot to me."

"Means a lot to know that you want me here Y/N." Loki's small smile went to a big one. Y/N slowly moved her hand to his hair. He watched her slow movement in amusement "No Y/N." She huff playfully giving up.

"Fine, I'll try another time but I'm happy that I made you smile. You're way easier than Bucky's serious ass. Now that's out the way, it's hot girl summer so no sadness from no oneee!!" Y/N exaggerated getting out of the chair going back over to the refrigerator. She pulled out that now cold pitcher, chugging down the concoction.

"Did I hear Y/N say something about a hot girl summer?" Steve rubbed his eyes while he walked downstairs. Y/N rubbed her mouth from the leftover drink on her lips. Steve furrowed his eyebrows at the now half-empty pitcher. "What's that?"

"Nothing! Don't even stick your nose in it." Y/N put the pitcher back. Steve looked at Loki who just shrugged his shoulders with confusion still written on his face. Y/N placed a rushed kiss on their cheek so they wouldn't smell the amount of alcohol she just consumed. "I'm going to get ready so we can go to the beach. Steve wake everyone up for me please so we can leave in the next 30 minutes."

"Okay Y/N," Steve replied ready to question her but she was already up the stairs. 20 minutes later Y/N had music blasting from the speakers while she ready. From that consumption of alcohol, it kicked in about 10 minutes after she got ready. She was only tipsy, maybe. Y/N couldn't focus because she kept giggling at everything.

"Damn why is everything so funny!" Y/N said getting mad at herself. Her long black faux locs flowed down her back after she struggled to place them in a high ponytail. Meaning she broke 3 hair ties and gave the hell up.

"Y/N we're waiting on you!" Tony yelled up the stairs but Y/N waved him off. She grabbed her purse, pausing the music. Tripping over her feet a bit, she made her way downstairs. Bucky caught a glimpse and instantly spoke up.

"Oh hell no Y/N. Go change."

She waved him off too, purposely ignoring him. "I'm readyyyy". Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to agree with Barnes. Y/N that isn't a swimsuit, that's two pieces of cloths."

Thor smiled, "I like it Y/N and since I like it, we can leave." He picked up a beach chair but everyone yelled no in protest except Natasha. Thor rolled his eyes sitting the chair down. Loki moved her hair aside, closing the white and blue shirt that she wore.

"Now you need a hair thingy to keep it close."Y/N smacked his hand away lightly, going over to the kitchen to find some chips. "Y/N why aren't you saying anything?" Bucky followed still upset about her outfit.

"Her outfit is fine guys. Let's go because you guys are over exaggerating." Natasha placed her shades on her face. "I got your back Y/N!"

"It's not fine, she's showing too much," Steve said being overprotective. Still not phased, Y/N nodded her head from the kitchen. " That's why you my bitch, thank you!" Everyone was shocked by her choice of words. Bucky grabbed her waist.

"Y/N are you drunk?"

Y/N giggled,"A lady never drinks, she sipssss." She dragged out the s, kissing his nose. Bucky pressed his lips together, getting his answer.

"Guys she's drunk!"

Groans went around the room. Steve was in realization,"Ohhh so that was what she was drinking when I came downstairs earlier."

------

"And it's hard to keep my cool

When other bitches tryna get with my dude and

When other chickens tryna get in my coop

'Cause you're a one in a million

There ain't no man like you"

Y/N belt out the lyrics to Streets for the 13th time while Bucky held her in his arms while they were in the ocean. They had been at the beach for 30 minutes, and a biker went by playing that song in her speakers. Y/N haven't let go of the song since.

"Y/N if you sing the same lyrics one more time, I swear I'm going to drop you." Bucky scolded while she gripped his shoulder tighter. Y/N placed her head on his chest, the sun was getting rid of her drunkness. She was tired since she didn't take a nap like everyone else plus Bucky's heartbeat and the sound of the oceans was calming her down. "Sorry! It's stuck in my mind."

Steve, Tony, Loki, and Thor played on the beach with water guns. Natasha laid in the sun, getting a tan. Per Y/N's request, Bucky was in the water holding Y/N close. She was surprised that he even agreed to it.

"Bucky?"

"Yes Y/N?"

"I'm tired."

"I figured, let's get you out the water." Bucky turned around to walk back to the shore. Y/N just snuggled more to his chest. "Bucky?"

Bucky’s voice held slight annoyance, thinking she was playing."What is it Y/N?"

"I'm glad you came on this trip, I know this past year had been so hard on you and I thought this trip would help ease your mind. Plus I got to know you better, that’s a bonus.”

“Yeah at first, I didn’t want to come but I couldn’t turn down seeing you in a bikini.” Bucky laughed making Y/N laugh as well hitting his chest lightly. “Bucky!”

“What? I’m being honest. I just rather for only my eyes to see.”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“You going to have to get used to it. But for real though, this trip made me not think about things that's been haunting my mind. Coming on here was the best idea.”

“I’m glad I could help with that.” She tapped his shoulder for him to stop. He placed Y/N on her feet. “I’ve come up with the best plan though.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “What’s the plan?”

——

Y/N made herself sink underwater. Bucky waited a couple seconds before putting on his best acting voice. “Guys! Guys! Y/N she’s drowning!” Natasha stood at the shore, looking out at the water in concern. The team wasted no time running in the water.

“What?!?”

“What happened??!?”

“Oh god, Y/N?!”

“Shit!”

Steve was Y/N's victim, he hunched over in her area of the water. Bucky pulled at the ends of his hair keeping the act going. “She was doing alright until I couldn’t hear her anymore.” Y/N lurched up grabbing Steve by the neck, pulling him in the water.

Bucky's face of distress turned into humor. “Steve she got you good!” Both Y/N and Steve appeared out of the water. Y/N was laughing so hard she was clutching her stomach. Loki found it amusing while Tony, Steve, and Thor didn’t.

“That was a good one Y/N.”

“Don’t listen to Loki Y/N. You had us worried!”Thor huffed and Steve nodded his head in agreement.

“Yeah! I thought something really happened to you.”

“I’m sorry guys.” Y/N snorted trying to contain her laughter. “It’s not my fault, it’s Bucky. He came up with the idea. You guys should’ve seen Steve’s face when I came out of the water.”

Steve mocked her laugh, “Ha Ha Ha. It’s not funny.” Bucky held his hand in defense trying not to laugh as well. “It’s not mine! This was all her idea.”

“Capsicle is right, it’s not funny. Don’t scare me like that again.” Tony scolded her, he held out his arms. “Now come give me a hug so I can feel better.” Y/N gave him a hug, that humorous smile not leaving her face. When she tried to pull away, Tony held a grip. She realized.

“TONY!”

He laughed leaning forward and they both fell in the water. Soon it turned into a big splashing war between everyone, they were having so much fun.

————————-

At 7:28 p.m. both Y/N and Bucky walked back to the beach for dinner. The restaurant they chose for tonight’s dinner was there. Since Y/N is over the planning for the vacation and Bucky is attached to her hip, they were at dinner first.

“I know the wait is going to be minute so sit down while I talk to the hostess.” She reassured him. Bucky looked at her kind of worried because he wasn’t comfortable with crowds yet. She squeezed his hand, “You’re okay.”

Bucky nodded his head reluctantly. Y/N walked off to make sure this restaurant gave them a private table away from the crowd, preferably on the beach. After about 10 minutes of talking, something just told her to turn around. It was some woman that looked around Y/N’s age steadily talking to Bucky even though he looked so uncomfortable.

“Hold on one sec.” Y/N held a finger-walking away, not even waiting on the hostess's response. Y/N quiet appearance kinda scared them both. “Excuse me. Hi!”

The woman looked at Y/N with attitude. “Um, why are you speaking to me?”

Y/N took a deep breath to calm down. “ I’m speaking to you because you’re talking to my boyfriend and you obviously see him uncomfortable.” It was for the sake of the moment. Bucky and Y/N aren’t together, just a few flirts here and there. But since Y/N knew this bitch couldn’t take a hint she said, boyfriend.

“You might have him confused for”

Y/N cut her off, “No I don’t have him confused for no one. That’s my boyfriend so get your desperate ass out of his face before I embarrass you in front of everyone. We don’t want that do we? Now walk away miss.”

The woman turned her nose up walking away without saying another word. Once she was out of sight, Bucky visibly relaxed. “Thank you so much Y/N. She wouldn’t stop talking and my a-anxiety was getting bad because I didn’t know her and...” He shook his leg. Y/N sat beside him giving him a hug.

“Hey hey calm down, it’s okay now. I could see she made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t going to stand there and let her continue to do that.”

“Thank you Y/N.”

“Anything for you Bucky.” Y/N kissed his forehead then she stood up, holding out her hand. “Now let’s go get this table because I did cut the hostess off coming to help you.”

Bucky laughed grabbing her hand. As they walked back over to the stand, realization hit Bucky. He smirked.

“So I’m your boyfriend now?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, “No Bucky, it was in the heat of the moment.”

“What if I was to ask you out?”

“In your dreams Bucky.”

————

This took longer to write then what it supposed to be.

Hope you guys like it 🥰, I was trying to include a Loki moment because I’m starting to like him more.

Stay slutty my friendsss!

#marvel #bucky barnes fluff #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x poc!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #loki (marvel)#loki laufeyson #natasha romanoff #loki x black!reader #thor x black!reader #tony stark x black!reader #steve rogers x poc!reader #loki x you

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treasureswordsgirl55 · 2 years

Text

Pilot Proof

Character: Poe Dameron

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Fem!RebelReader

Inspired by: You Can Leave Your Hat On - Joe Cocker

Warnings: Nop. Fluff Fluff. Funny. Post!TROS. Leia and Ben are alive. Alternative final of the movie. Fluff. A little bit spicy. Mentions of war. TROS spoilers.

Author's Note: Hello! hello!

I'm here with one of all of my fic that I've written with Poe in the past years, 2021 especially and that was a something that I write with that melody in my head.

It's a pleasure for me write with Poe. By the way, I'm ending the novel that I write with him, so... If you wanna be tagged or something, just let me know in the comments!

Thanks for reading! XOXO 😘 Noe!

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

- Are you sure you're doing this? Do you think it's a good idea? - I ask while Rey and Rose walk me to my room. The corridors of the resistance base are quiet, there are no wars to end, no problems to face. The three of us walk in silence as we greet those who pass us with a smile, and just thinking about what is about to happen in less than an hour makes me nervous.

- This is the most important thing for you, you should be happy with it - The smile that Rey gives me gives me peace. I need much more than that right now.

- I'm not talking about that, Rey. I'm talking about the other - She nods without saying a word although she knows that inside she is smiling.

- Did you tell him? - I know what Rose means as soon as the question leaves her lips and I shake my head. As soon as the door to my room opens, both pass by and the image of the orange suit placed carefully on my bed makes a chill take over me, as well as the sensation of carrying a stone in my stomach makes fear want to take over. me, and not because of the idea of having to present myself in front of the entire commission with one of them, but because of the fact of thinking about what Poe's reaction would be when seeing me wearing one of these - He will not believe it when he sees you with this.

Rey sits on the edge of the bed and gently touches the suit as if it were something that would break at a single touch.

- I can tell you something? - I shake my head, nodding as I tie my hair into a ponytail and take a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully not to let my emotions overwhelm me. - I think he's going to go crazy.

- Because what you say?

- Look, it's awkward being in the same room with Poe without fighting, but it's much more awkward when you enter it - She smiles and I can see her roll her eyes as she lies on my bed, next to the suit as if it were a person who occupies the place - The air becomes heavy around him that sparks fly. I could even swear I've seen them.

- Don't exaggerate - Rose lets out a laugh and exchanges a knowing look with Rey when they notice that Poe's jacket and helmet are on my desk - Before they say anything, it's not what you think.

- Is there something you haven't told us?

- The only thing that happened was that Poe asked me if he could sleep here for a while after one of his flights, because he was too lazy to walk to his room - I take the suit and for a second I regret my decision. A few months ago I had discussed it with Leia and I expressed my desire to join the squad, so as soon as I accepted, I asked for one condition: Not to be in the same squad as Poe and not to know about this until I finished my training.

It was hard not to tell what I considered my best friend about the adventure I was about to undergo, but part of me wanted it to be a surprise.

I wanted him to be proud of me.

It didn't take long for Leia to realize that my feelings towards Poe were different, and with much more reason she understood my request: I didn't feel capable of keeping an eye on a battle if he was by my side.

- Let him know and ask him to wear his jacket.

- I don't have to do that.

If they knew I even have access to his room when he's not there, they'd scream like 10-year-olds.

- Do it the same, so at least he gets a wrong idea of what he thinks he will see. If we are going to made crazy the General, we are going to do it right - She hands me the small communication device that Rose had created for the five of us as a prototype of a terrestrial "cell phone", with a smile and I send a quick message before the attentive gaze of my companions .

"Poe, will you let me wear your jacket? You left it here in my room"

I wait for a few seconds and the screen turns blue as soon as the response arrives.

"You don't have to ask me, everything I have is yours, love"

I smile as I feel Rey's face resting on my shoulder, reading the messages in silence.

- It's so cheesy...

I walk away for a moment as I listen to them mutter something about Poe and see that Rey has her helmet in her hands. I really like the cutesy, laid-back way he has when there's no danger around. It makes him look more human and less "hero".

"Does that include you too?"

I write in a rush of thought, trying to play on the tension between us, and I send the message before I regret it. There's no answer, so I figure he must be with Leia or in some important meeting. His new life as a General left him exhausted in ways he didn't think possible, but in those where he had to use his brain and leave his emotions in a drawer. As soon as I turn around, the flash on Rose's cell phone lights up and she smiles as she looks at the photo.

- I'll tell BB-8 to record his expression - Rey's teasing makes me sit close to them and Rose helps me put on the suit.

- What's the matter with the jacket? - I ask while I see her holding the jacket as if it were a relic.

- A man is very excited when the woman he is attracted to wears his clothes. It's like a territorial mark. It's not the same for Finn to wear it as for you to wear it - Poe being territorial about Finn? I dismissed that thought the minute he arrived with a smile and I was reminded how territorial Poe is with all of us, but he's even more so with BB-8 - And coming from you it will be a blow to catch him off guard.

- Did you deduce that when Kylo Ren wanted to rip your head off or when you kissed Ben in Exegol?

I laugh as Rose buttons the top of the suit and Rey frowns, trying to look annoyed.

Despite everything they went through to get here, Rey and Ben were the perfect match. I aspired to have such a love.

- I reaffirm my opinion: He will go crazy - The idea of driving Poe crazy was never in my plans since it was more likely that the one who would go crazy with him was me, but I decided to play along, how bad could it be to provoke him? little bit? - How much do you want to bet that he will be speechless as soon as he sees you? - I roll my eyes and try not to think about the different images that appear in my head and make my heart race even more.

- To all this, what will Leia say? I don't want her to think that I'm not committed to this - I ask while Rose adjusts my neck and the minimum details - One of her new pilots trying to seduce her second General in command?

The two women exchange a look and Rey takes my arm, slightly calling my attention - And whose idea was it? - I'm speechless. I knew that Leia was a very funny person outside of her role as head of the Resistance, but I never thought that she would conspire with two girls to try to derail the integrity of her favorite pilot.

- Whoa. Even I would go out with you if that were the case - Rey murmurs short at the same time that he lets out something similar to a whistle. I blush at his words and even though the jacket was a bit too big for me, it was too warm and comfortable to turn down. Now I could understand the "Territorial" it seemed that he was with me.

- Rey!

- Don't tell Ben that I said that - He indicates to Rose and she raises her hands smiling, while we hear the footsteps in the corridor become louder, indicating that the meeting was just a few minutes away from starting. As I walk to the door, Rey pulls the band that holds my hair and my waves fall due to the effect of gravity between the constant fight of frizz and neatness.

- You look really good - A "Thank you" leaves my lips while I feel too comfortable with the outfit. I hold out my hand for her to hand me the hair tie but she shakes her head.

- I'm afraid he'll have a heart attack - I hear the concern in the Jedi's voice and I know it's sincere - I'm afraid his heart is too fragile to bear it.

- Did you know? The only thing I'll get once he sees me come in is the longest, most complaining talk of my entire life about why I didn't tell him about this. Also, he's not as fragile as it looks.

- You're not exaggerating, Eileen. You'd need red lipstick and you'd look amazing for a calendar photo, the kind used to raise funds for worthy causes - Did she just call me a model? Before I can even think to answer him, Rey reaches across the bed and opens the little drawer that's on the side of the nightstand and pulls out that red lipstick he had given me for last Christmas. He extends it to me with a smile and those sparkling eyes that we all loved so much.

- Do it for us - I look away to try not to fall for the trick of those abandoned puppy eyes with which she sees me and knows that I will end up giving in, but that's Rey, she gets what he wants, by hook or by crook - Just once?

- Only one photo and I take it off - They applaud and I paint my lips in front of the full-length mirror, and I let them take a couple of photos of me, until the three of us take one together. When I go to remove my lipstick, it doesn't come out - Rey?

- Yeah, maybe I forgot to mention that it's not coming out... for a couple of hours. Or more... - A knock on the door makes me jump, I approach the bed and take Poe's helmet. He won't mind if I borrow it, plus the hair band Rey took from me - Looks good on you.

- This is not the time, Rey. We have to go - I open the door while wearing Finn, who walks away holding me by the arms and looking at me as if he had seen a ghost - I'm sorry Finn.

- Eileen? What the...? You look... Whoa - She glances between us a little surreptitiously and looks at the helmet I'm holding in my hand - You know that she's going to kill him with that, right?

I let out a sigh as I listen to the beeps of BB-8, who stops as soon as he sees me and lets out a beep that seems endless. - Thanks BB, you look good too - I blush and listen to Finn's murmurs that he's scared for his best friend, Rey's excuses about Leia and Rose's idea, and BB-8's beeps that fill the air about the number of people in the meeting room.

- It's time BB-8.

...

General Organa smiles at the arrival of the new pilots who join the new ranks of the Resistance.

As soon as his eyes detect the young men who faithfully fought at his side, he automatically turns, looking for that brown-eyed boy who has been anxious all afternoon to know where his best friend was. Her brow furrowed at not finding him, so she turns to her loyal droid who does nothing but enjoy the murmurs around her.

- Treepio. Have you seen Poe?

The droid turns as she looks for her grumpy commander but finds no sight of him. She knew that the Commander used to get overwhelmed on certain occasions so she assumed that he would be out of the room.

- He was here a moment ago - Leia looked back at her second in command and she didn't find him, which made her worry, but she knew how important this moment was to Poe.

As if by magic, the two pieces of the puzzle they wanted to put together appear along with a fluctuation in the Force that made her smile: Poe's passion with

Eileen's Shyness were complementary opposites that were meant to be together. She knew it from the moment she saw them, but she didn't feel so confident about intervening. Until her dear King of her talked about it.

She felt like Cupid, but she knew if Poe didn't get a push, he wouldn't do anything about Eileen.

On the other hand, Poe greeted everyone in his squad with hugs, nodded politely to his superiors, and smiled at the new recruits who would likely be part of his squad. As that insecurity washed over him, she took a deep breath and thought of the only thing that could reassure him: Eileen's voice.

A silence accompanied his words about courage, loyalty and the search for the Freedom they so longed to protect. Poe was still trying to make her voice convey experience and wisdom, which he had acquired in part from her various mistakes, but which was nowhere near Leia's. His dear General saw him with pride, since the Raddus he had tried to be better, to be everything Leia needed: He wanted to win her trust again, and even though he had already done it, he still felt guilty for his bad decisions.

And that is what he wanted to convey to those new riders, that emotions were not always the best allies at a time that could be decisive for everyone.

- I want you to record this in your heads: Here, we are all a family. We protect each other and we are willing to give up our lives for it. And if you decide to do something, that will stay with you until the last day of your life.

Leia smiled as she watched as her second-in-command watched the pilots intently as she spoke but suddenly she fell silent and knew he had seen her.

Poe felt his heart stop as soon as he saw her standing there among the new pilots, in that orange jumpsuit he had grown accustomed to wearing when she was still flying. She made her stand out among the others even though her outfit was the same as everyone else's, the only thing that differentiated her from them was that she was wearing his jacket. And a feeling of belonging took over him at the same time that he looked for his words to come out and no word formed in his head. But he was proud that they understood that she was with him, implicitly, of course. But he liked the idea more than he wanted to admit.

She was so beautiful that she had put him out of business. Leia noticed her nervousness and took charge of the rest of the speech - I'm sorry but General Dameron is speechless with the emotion of seeing you here.

Poe silently thanked the intrusion, knowing that Leia did not miss any detail and when he wanted to go down the small stairs where they were, the Communications alarm sounded at the same time that Jess entered the room quickly - Sorry, General But there's trouble on the outer edges of the Galaxy, they say a faction of the First Order is trying to kidnap children.

- Unfortunately this will be the first flight, go and may the Force be with you - Everyone began to disperse before Poe's gaze and he lost sight of Eileen without taking his eyes off her. He looked around her and didn't find her, tried to spot Finn or Rey in the crowd and didn't either. He let out a heavy sigh as he thought about running to the hangars, where she might be.

- Poe? - The young man turned at the call of her General and she threw him from her side with little delicacy - What the hell are you waiting for to go after her? She is in the hallway on the way to the hangars. Get out Poe! It's an order.

...

As soon as I left the meeting room, I ran into Jess, who told me that I should use the first X-Wing that was available. BB-8 lets out a few beeps telling me that he can accompany me on this first mission, but that I should talk to Poe first. I frowned at the droid's words and didn't have to wait long, because in all the crowd of people rushing towards the hangars, a hand grabbed my arm and pushed me against the nearest wall.

- How the hell are you wearing that? - Poe's agitated voice made my body turn like jelly. The closeness of him and the heat that his body gave off made him not think clearly - Why didn't you tell me?

- I didn't want to worry you... I wanted to surprise you - he moves away enough without letting go of my arms and releases a heavy sigh, as if he had trouble breathing. I let go of his grip and I get a little closer, moving my hands up his arms and taking his face, looking for him to look at me - Poe?

- Well, you gave it to me, little one. You look amazing in the suit - his voice starts to sound breathy and his breathing becomes more ragged. I notice him nervous and I smile, I like to think about the effect I have on him - I wish we weren't doing this here, but if it wasn't for the emergency call we would already be talking about this.

- I don't like the idea of talking - I blurt out as I push him away and hear BB-8's beeps in the distance telling me that I should go - Maybe, when I comes back, we can do something about it.

Poe moved away when he understood the meaning of my words and smiled, blushing. - And what do you suggest?

- Perhaps, if you want to wait for me when I return, we could take this to a field that we both know.

- You're not helping, Eileen.

- Are you nervous General? - He shakes his head and brings me a little closer to the wall, leaving a minimum space between them. R2-D2 walks past us and his sounds let us know that Leia is on her way, looking for Poe.

- I will go with you. It's the only way I have to make sure you come back here with me - I lift his helmet and move it away, leaving it behind me, while I take him by the waist and bring him a little closer - Eileen... Don't made me get down of that ship.

- I'm sorry, but this time you have to stay on the ground, Flyboy - Look at my lips and sigh again. That was going much further than I expected - I like that you are aware of me.

- I like you so fucking much, darling. You don't have an idea that what are you making me - He admits as he pulls away and looks in the direction of the meeting room - Damn, why now?

He cursed the emergency, the First Order, and everyone involved in it. I let out a laugh calling his attention and I move away a little placing my hand on his shoulder - Stay calm, I'll be back when you least realize it.

In a moment of distraction, he wanted to take off my helmet but I move away enough so that it is not within his reach - Stop there, Dameron. This time it's my turn to have fun - I take him from the lapel of his jacket and press my lips against his, trying not to sound like a goodbye but a promise. I pull away as soon as I feel him try to intensify the kiss and I already miss the softness of his lips - You must stay Poe. See you in a bit.

I walk away with a smile as BB-8 lets out a variety of beeps where he talks about Poe, the First Order, and Leia as I put on my helmet and my nerves take over again. The green screen lights up and points me the way under the coordinates sent to BB-8.

- Are you ready, BB?

A beep fills the cabin and we are ready to go

"Lieutenant Barnes, are you ready to take off?"

- Ready

"Authorization granted. Good first flight and may the Force be with you"

I smiled at my communicator's words and went out into outer space. I prepare to jump and communication is enabled again, this time through a private channel. I didn't have to wait for him to speak to know it was Poe.

- What do you want Dameron?

"Wish you good luck, you'll do great out there"

I blush at his words and look at the space around me

"Just breathe and let the Force guide you"

- You always know what to say and when to say - BB-8 indicates that he is ready to jump and I see that the others begin to enter Hyperspace - I must go.

- I know. Take care of you because I want us to clarify to what extent we are involved in this, because I told you that everything that is mine is yours, including me whenever you want.

- At your order, General - Before cutting off the communication, I let out a laugh - How involved would I be in this if I let you take my suit off when I return?

The last thing I hear before jumping into Hyperspace is a curse on the other end of the comm.

#star wars fandom #star wars fanfiction #star wars fluff #star wars fic #post tros #the rise of skywalker #poe dameron x ofc #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #poe dameron x oc #star wars sequels #star wars sequel fic #i write for myself but you can read it too

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anaiswriterr · 4 years

Text

The Dragon Kings Queen

Pairing: Dragon King!Bakugou x Queen!Reader

Rating: M

Warning: This is part one, I’d like to point out be aware: 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐠𝗼𝐫𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐭𝐜. Please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it, and if you’re under the age of 18+ I will give a warning when it becomes NSFW but at the moment it’s SFW.

Synopsis: ➪ When the word marriage crossed your mind, you believed you'd marry someone you loved. Not this brute of a King. So here you are standing at the end on an alter, pushing away the urge to run and fight. Possibly start a new life, instead of being dragged into a loveless marriage. But for the sake of your people.. They say he's not what rumors make him out to be, but how can you believe that when his eyes burn into yours; just as fiery as before. How could you, ever love someone as barbaric as him...

- chapter one: wedding of peace -

•

"May I introduce you, to my daughter, Princess Y/N of Airkin Kingdom."

"We are looking for a suitable suitor for her."

"You are doing your people a public service; think of all the possibilities that will come from this.. arrangement."

"You will soon be a Queen; start acting like it."

You wipe a tear away from your cheek as you soak in a bath of milk and honey; handmaids all around you scurrying scouring for jewels and expensive lace to dress you in. You clutch your knees together; pulling them into your chest as the bath water soaks into your skin. Quiet muttering of the handmaids pulling you out of your thoughts.

"M'lady would you allow me your hand; I must prep you for the ceremony." She gives off a gentle smile, her voice so small and soft; her hair is in two ponytail braids just separated by red satin ribbon. You nod, moving your shaky hand from the milky water; another handmaid coming to your side to prep the other hand. You hadn't realized somebody sat behind you combing your hair; brushing through your roots like silk.

You watch as they hang your dress up in awe, clapping their hands in cheer.

In another life, on another day you probably would've liked the dress. Maybe even fantasize about it, walking down the isle, eyes fixated on the love of your life as you smile. Ruling together as King and Queen; but most importantly as husband and wife. You frown at their smiles. Feeling bad that you couldn't share the same excitement towards them, you realize that the people of the Dragon Kingdom were much more proud people. From travelers and trades, you learned about the people from your kingdom by the royal bookkeeper; she had explained to you that the people of the Dragons were prideful and loud. Something you weren't quiet used too.

You were far more gentle and outspoken, quiet and kind. Your Kingdom was quite the opposite.

Tales of the dragons say that they are barbaric, and don't care what others have to say. And so did the tales of their people.

A part of you wonders why you were placed in this arrangement seeing that both kingdoms are extremely different from one another.

You sigh, it's for the best. This wedding will end the war between both kingdoms and more trade will come into the markets with many more jobs available for your people, it's important that you brush your feelings aside. You flinch as the handmaids drop your hands back to soak in the bath before being pulled up and quickly covered by a towel. Patting down your supple skin and moisturizing, applying expensive lotions on you and lathering it up your body.

You weren't used to being pulled in different directions. Soon enough a much younger handmaid, who seemed to be in training, came up behind you. Placing a silk robe over your exposed skin, you ask for them to leave the room for a while in order to gather yourself.

"Composure." You inhale.

They seemed annoyed but quickly wiped the fake expression off their faces and proceeded outside, following the orders of their future Queen.

You decided you would put on your undergarments yourself, keeping the last of your dignity. And later waving them in to help fit you in the dress, you feel the rough tug of the corset they had placed on your waist. Tightening it till you were nearly pulled to your feet; they apologized in advance as your hands grip the end of the counter. Grimacing at the nearly unbearable tightness, the handmaids at your kingdom were much more gentle and apologetic with you.

You missed them terribly.

They were finally finished with you.

Stepping back to admire their work, you smile weakly towards them.

The tiny white flowers that were gently placed into your hair, the vale.. all so perfect. So beautiful, the white and small blush on your cheeks radiating the innocence of a woman. You take a deep breath, your hands running down the bodice of your dress and smoothing it out. You wipe the last tear that dared threatened to escape.

"Don't you dare start crying, don't you dare show weakness."

***

You watch as the waves crash against the rocks from the castles window, awaiting for your father. You smile, at least this kingdom was near the ocean and mountains. Such beautiful serene for a kingdom known for its brute and prideful attitude. You feel a tightened grip on your forearm, a man leaning down kissing your forehead. Your father Y/F/N, King of Airkin Kingdom here to give away his daughter.

"What a lovely Queen.." His voice comes out in a trembled whisper, you nod in agreement. Though you thought instead you'd be the Queen of your own Kingdom, your baby brother ended up taking over that role. You clutch onto your fathers bicep, staring off onto your gloved hand. You've never even had a single conversation with this man, you didn't know his name till last night, and you've never kissed anyone in your life besides your parents.

But those were most definitely not real kisses, those were cheek pecks and forehead pecks.

You feel your heartbeat start to pump faster as the wedding march played, hundreds of guests attended to see the ceremony. People from the kingdom and even other royalties attended the wedding, you exhale and start to walk beside your father. Feet moving on their own, you thought about running.

But the guards at each possible exist popped your thought of escape and pulled you into reality, if you were suicidal you'd most certainly throw yourself out the nearest window and allow yourself to plummet onto the pavement below, in order to runaway from this arrangement.

You look up from the bouquet of flowers in your hand, and notice the former Queen Mitsuki, bright eyed and smiling. Her Crown on a small velvet pillow, nodding in approval. The former King Masaru also seated beside her, holding onto her hand in pride and happiness. And suddenly yours eyes meet the man of all the rumors.

With long spiky hair, decorated with tooth necklaces, feathers, scarlet red tooth earrings, and tribal arm sleeves, a tribal tattoo imprinted onto his arm. With piercing ruby red eyes, not a smile in sight. The upper half of his body fully exposed, your eyes slightly widen. Noticing almost everyone on the Dragon Kingdom side wore very revealing clothing.

You surpass a small gasp, woman wore light fabric with exposed stomachs and legs. Meanwhile men were too show off tribal tattoos. You realize the reason why the kingdom was so prosperous. All dazzling in jewels, you didn't even notice your handmaids were dressed in similar wear, but with more decoration. The closer you got the more of him you saw, his lips pressed into a fine line.

The both of you truly did not want to be there.

As soon as you reached to the end of the isle, your father gave you away to the man that you'd now forever be wed too. And rule beside, you pass the bouquet over down to the small flower girl beside you. Giving her a soft smile and placing the tiniest flower behind her ear, earning a tiny giggle from her and large toothy grin.

You turn around and reach down to his hands, traditionally the two of you were obligated to hold hands as the ceremony commenced. They were so rough against your tiny soft ones, his eyes a crimson red finally reaching your soft E/C ones. You start to chew at the inside of your cheeks, drowning out the words of the preacher finding the floor as the most intriguing thing other than his burning eyes.

"Our father who art in heaven.."

He begins the prayer, holding out his hands, chanting prayers through the cathedral. You shut your eyes and bow your head down in prayer, following after the man in front of you. The wedding continued, and your eyes still refused to reach his. Though, you could feel his heavy gaze on you from to time. "Now we are granted the pleasure, of witnessing the matrimony of two young souls. Soon to rule this Kingdom, King Bakugou, do you take this woman, Y/N L/M as you lawfully wedded wife. Crowning her Queen of your kingdom?"

You almost forgot that you had no say in this.

"Yes."

The answer was simple, emotionless and short. You give a small nod and allow for the ceremony to continue, hand in hand with a man you had only met once. Dreading each second, the preacher raises his voice holding his hands up, declaring "the love" these two share in sake of their kingdom.

"I now pronounce you, King and Queen, husband and wife. You may now, kiss your bride."

You prepare yourself for a short kiss, something simple. But are hit with a searing kiss, long and burning passionately against your virgin lips. The side of the Dragon Kingdom roaring in excitement, it's former King and Queen nodding in approval. Meanwhile the Airkin side had only resorted to small cheers of happiness. His hand cups your jaw, a small growl erupts from his throat until he pulls away. You are taken aback but quickly replace the face of sudden surprise to a smile you practiced in the mirror hundreds of times. Waving off to the kingdom, and fixing the crown a handmaiden placed on your head.

You fight the tears that pooled on the outer corners of your eyes.

"Aw look! The Queen is crying of happiness!"

What a statement so far from the truth. Don't you know, I've practiced this smile since I was six?

***

"M'lady? You've had such a long day, we have a handmaidens awaiting for you with a hot bath. She will be in charge of clothing you for tonight.."

Your hands run through your hair smoothly, brushing out the flowers and placing them in a small basket. You nod, thanking her as she left.

Tonight..

Tonight you were expected to give yourself to the King in tradition of matrimony. With your assigned duty to birth a son or daughter for the next of kin. This thought had clearly blown over your mind as you suddenly realized tonight was the night. For years you thought you'd give yourself to the love of your life someone who'd cherish you forever. Sighing you are pointed towards the direction where countless of handmaidens are awaiting to prepare you for the night.

Silk robes and a black night gown that you thought was far to revealing for your liking sat neatly on a chair. A bath of milk and honey with rose pedals awaiting for you, and an assortment of creams and lotions and expensive soaps sat beside the counter. They strip you away of your clothes and lead you towards the tub.

"Your Majesty, we are so happy to have you as our Queen. We assure you you'll love it here, and the King. What a lucky woman to be able to represent our Kingdom. Tonight's going to be a night to remember." They rave on, startling you with how loud they were. You gasp as they place a cool cotton ball in your hand, wiping away any dirt with the rose water infused ball, scrubbing away at you hand. Then neatly wrapping your hand in a fist.

You nearly tell them to stop when they begin to pull and tug at your hair.

But it was their jobs and you wouldn't dare scold them for trying to help you, for years you promised you wouldn't be a mean Queen, you'd always be loving and kind. Even if it meant you had to endure few minor inconveniences.

Dreading each minute that went by, the time just edging closer and closer to the moment you'd be in a room with him. You bite at your lip, tugging the bottom piece not noticing thirty minutes had went by and it was time for you to leave the bath water. They tug you by your wrists and cover you with a towel, leading you into a changing room by yourself, leaving you to change into your undergarments before you wave them over.

Allowing them to finish their preparations.

You are seated back in your room, grateful you were provided your own room till you were finally settled to sleep with your “husband”. Facing the vanity mirror your body covered in a silk robe when a women knocks on the door.

"Hello, I'm Toga. I'll be your head handmaid, I'm tasked with preparing you for tonight's events." She grins, walking towards you and combing out your hair.

It's quiet for a while, an eerie feel swells in your chest. Her smile yells to not trust a single word that escapes her mouth, she's grinning like a slithering snake. Eyes slanted and dark, her voice chirps up to fill the silence.

"I heard you're pure.."

A gasp escape past your lips, her smile only getting larger by your expression.

"You know what's to be expected by tonight, I wouldn't be surprise if you wouldn't be able to walk the next day. You know what they say about the Dragons, barbaric.." she grabs your jaw and forcefully tugs you near her, whispering into your ear, "rough too. But I'm sure you'll be fine."

"H-He's not a-"

"Oh sweetie, of course he's not. Which makes it better for him... he'll know what it's like to fuck a virgin."

You slap the hairbrush out of her hand, kicking your vanity chair from beneath you.

"How dare you speak to me in such a malicious tone! Get out, immediately. Or else I'll be forced to hire another head handmaid. I'll prepare myself!" You sneer, pointing your finger towards the door.

She bows, and tsks kissing her teeth, “Whatever you say, your majesty.” She grins, her fingers trailing on the bed spread as she exits your room. Leaving you fuming at your vanity. You throw on the stupid night gown, huffing and running your fingers through your hair. You barley notice the figure standing at the end of your room, leaning against her door frame. You gasp, startled at the reflection of his ruby red eyes.

You turn around, hand on your chest. Walking backwards till your back meets your desk, his eyes aimlessly wandering over your body, tracing every dip and curve. He knocks on the door frame, “C-Come in...” your voice wavers.

His boots clank against the mahogany wooden floorboards, as he approaches you. Arms crossed over his chest till he’s finally only inches away from you, your heart is racing and a part of you wants to tell him to go away. To never come in here again, allowing Togas words to bounce around in your head. He takes a strand of your hair in his hand, admiring as it aimlessly fell through his fingers, draping over your shoulders. A finger tracing over your exposed shoulder.

“I thought you had Toga helping you out get ready.” His voice is firm, yet calm.

“I-I decided I wanted to change myself, tonight.” Your voice comes out in a stutter, you didn’t mean for it to sound so small and unsure. He nods, noticing your stature. He arches a brow, before stepping back.

“No harm, will come to you in this Kingdom. I won’t force you to do something you are clearly not ready for, nor will I make you perform an act we clearly don’t want to do. So sleep tight, and stay out of my way.”

Your breath hitches as he leaves your room, closing the door shut behind him. Your heart rate increasing by the second, you finally release the breath you yourself didn’t notice you were holding.

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

bar maid (b.w.)

prompt: a long night at the leaky cauldron and the late shift can only mean one thing: a boring night. but when a new face pops into the bar, the mood shifts drastically.

pairing: bill weasley x fem! reader

warnings: drinking, mentions of the war, language (literally once), sexual references

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @harrysweasleys @gcdric @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @another-lonely-heart-blog @starlightweasley @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @vogueweasley

“Another round of ale, Albert?” you ask with a smile as you wipe down a section of the bar from its previous attendants. The damp dish towel wipes across the mahogany bar, leaving streaks that shine underneath the bar lighting, the faint smell of chemical lemon lingering in the air mixes with the overwhelming scent of lager and spirits.

Albert flashes you a toothy grin and gives you a shrug. “Eh, why not. It’s a Friday, isn’t it?” Albert laughs before sliding you his brass mug down the length of the bar as you stealthily catch it in your hand. You fill the mug with amber ale, teeming with white foam, smelling of wheat. “You’re too good to me, (Y/N),” Albert tells you with a grin before taking a sip of his usual drink of choice.

You were a bar maid at the Leaky Cauldron and Albert was one of your regulars. Now, you didn’t think that you would be a bar maid after graduating from Hogwarts and trying to become a professor, but the world had a funny way about it, didn’t it? Being a bar maid meant you got good tips and had the luxury of creating your own schedule, but it also meant when you worked, it was long hours of standing on your feet and serving cheap ale and lager to annoyed businessmen and exhausted workers from the hours of five o’clock to two o’clock in the morning. Work was grueling, but you tried to make as much fun of it as you could.

“It’s the least I can do, Al,” you sigh, flopping the dish towel over your shoulder as you lean over the bar. “Any juicy gossip for me today? I’ve been bored out of my skull since I clocked in and I still got another five hours ahead of me. I need some entertainment,” you groan, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the bar. The thought of another five hours dealing with more alcohol, more grumpy patrons, and another tired night made your head ache.

Al takes a long sip from his mug, wiping the foam from his upper lip before speaking, “Not much gossip, I’m afraid.” You throw your head back and groan, taking an annoyed sip from your water. “Nothing interesting has happened, my dear,” he huffs in just as much annoyance as you. “We’re living in dark times, all news is usually disappointing, scary, or both. I’m looking for something hopeful just as much as you are,” Al confesses.

You tighten your ponytail and push your baby hairs away from your face, hands flopping on your shoulders as you slump over. Albert was right. The thought of a looming wizarding war over everyone’s heads was enough to keep everyone living in fear of when it would all come to a head and pop. At least working at the pub took your mind off of things, even if it was just for a few hours of the day.

“However,” Albert’s tone changes as you dart your eyes to him, curious. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the name Fleur Delacour? I heard through the grapevine that she has recently started working at Gringott’s. Desk job, but people were confused as to why should would come all the way to London for a silly desk job,” Albert explains before sipping from his ale again.

Your eyebrows furrow as the name does ring a bell. “The name sounds familiar. I certainly didn’t go to school with her or else I would know who she was. But the name is oddly recognizable...I’ll ask my younger sister when I speak to her next. She’s at Hogwarts now. I’m sure she’d know,” you tell Albert. “Anyone else take up a job? Familiar names or faces?”

Al searches his memory for anything else. He presses his tongue to his cheek. “Yeah, there was someone else. William...I don’t remember the surname for life of me, but it was William something...” he trails off.

You think for a moment, trying to scan your brain for a William that you might know. But you drew blank. It had been so long since you saw anyone from your graduating class. You had spent most of your time in the pub or studying or applying for new professor jobs. But no one was looking to hire an under-experienced professor in these times, no matter how good your marks were at Hogwarts, regardless that you were top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. The thought makes you infuriated because you knew you could teach this new generation of wizards better than anyone else.

Shaking your head, “Well, whatever, if he was important, you would know his name.” Albert shrugs. “I need to go bring in some kegs from the back, I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before go around the bar, walking to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, hearing snippets of conversations here and there, most people talking about the news or their families. It was sad; just two years ago people would be roaring with laughter, telling stories and jokes, recounting happy times. Now, everyone was so focused on how the world as you knew it may be crumbling around you.

The cool fall air wraps around you as you push the door to bring the kegs from outside in as you pull your jumper over your hands to make some make-shift mittens. “Bloody hell,” you whisper to yourself as you see three kegs lined up outside for you to bring in. “Seriously, Tom?” you groan as you grab one keg and start dragging it. “I don’t get paid enough for this, I swear,” you grumble.

“Need a hand?” a voice interrupts you as you drag the steel keg across the cobblestone.

You look up and your eyes meet a pair that you haven’t seen in years. An instant smile rises on your lips as the all too familiar red hair is swept in the wind. “You’re kidding,” you laugh as you stand up straight, brushing off your jumper as he smiles widely at you with a chuckle. “Bill Weasley as I live and breathe?” you laugh as you run towards him, Bill engulfing you in a large hug. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he picks you up, your feet leaving the ground as you giggly madly as Bill sways you back and forth.

It had been years since you had seen Bill Weasley. The two of you had attended Hogwarts together in the same year and became fast friends. You had always admired how Bill was so smart and confident in himself (borderline arrogant, but in the sexiest best way). Bill was a popular one at Hogwarts, but through it all, he always managed to make time for you since you liked staying out of the lime light. Bill was well-loved and revered at Hogwarts, so it was obvious that he became a prefect during your time. And that’s when you two started to drift apart. He became busy doing his things and you became busy with your own studies. After graduation, the two of you went your separate ways, but you always wondered where he had gone.

Bill sets you down on your feet, his hands still on your hips as he smiled brightly down at you. He looked so mature now, longer red hair tied back in a ponytail, but he was still tall, thin, and undeniably handsome. The hunter green jacket he sported clung onto his tall figure, underneath a button down that was unbuttoned just enough so you could see the chest hairs that poked out from the loose material. Hanging from his ear lobe was a fang earring that wasn’t there before. Bill had changed, but in a way that caught your eye in a way that has never happened before. You gulped.

“Godric, (Y/N), you haven’t changed one bit,” Bill laughs as he takes a good look at you as you mentally curse that you had been wearing something different than your old blue jumper and leggings with stained boots from the bar. “How long has it been? Seven years?” he speaks as you nod. “Bloody hell, it feels like yesterday we were at Hogwarts,” he recounts the memories fondly as your heart warms to the same memories.

You smile brightly, “Time flies, Weasley.” He chuckles. “We can talk more about it if you help me bring in these kegs and I’ll treat you to an ale on the house. Or are you more of a lager man?” you ask as you walk back over to the steel kegs that wait to be dragged into the pub.

Bill chuckles as you grab one keg, starting to drag it into the pub. Without any hesitation or effort, Bill picks up the remaining two kegs in each of his hands, muscles flexing underneath his jacket as he shakes his head. You gulp and avert your eyes, trying not to focus on the way he so effortlessly carried the heavy steel kegs as you pushed yours in. “More of a whiskey kind of guy if you got any of that,” Bill tells you as you push the kegs towards the back of the bar, Bill places his two next to yours. “I didn’t know you were working at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Walking back to the bar with Bill by your side you speak, “Yeah. Been working here for a while now since there seems to be a hold on hiring newer, younger professors,” you roll your eyes as Bill laughs. Bill remembered how badly you wanted to be a professor and teach the younger generations of wizards and witches magic. It was your dream, but now it was on pause. “What about you? Why are you back in London? Last I heard of you, you were in Egypt!” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He gives you a smile, happy that you had been keeping your tabs on him. “I was in Egypt for a long while. Loved it, really. But I came home to help my family out with the Order and such. I’m working at Gringott’s now at a desk job. Very exciting, I know,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle, making your way behind the bar.

A William working at Gringott’s. I should have known, you think to yourself. “Hey Albert,” you call over the man who sits just a mere stool away from Bill. “That new William who's working at Gringott’s now? It’s not just any bloke, he’s a Weasley,” you smile at Albert who looks over to Bill with a look of realization. “Bill, this is Albert, one of my regulars. Al, this is Bill Weasley, we went to Hogwarts together.”

Bill gives Albert a firm shake shake and warm smile. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Bill beams. “You’ve been in good company with this one, I’m sure,” Bill winks as Albert chuckles lowly.

“That I have been. She’s great company and serves an even better mug of ale,” Albert speaks as you smile sweetly at him, Bill laughing. “I would love to stay and chat longer, but I gotta get home to the family,” Albert tells you and Bill, putting on his coat before digging into his pockets and places and handful of coins on the table to pay for his drinks and tip you generously as he usually did. “I’ll see you on Monday, my dear,” Albert calls as he walks towards the door, you giving him a salute goodbye.

Bill speaks, “He seems like a good guy.” You nod as you take out a glass and start to pour him a generous glass of Fire Whiskey before placing it front of him. “How did you know I take it neat? What if I wanted it on the rocks?”

You give him a knowing look. “I know you, Bill. Last time I checked, you were drinking Fire Whiskey straight from the bottle at your graduation party,” you recall with a light chuckle as Bill groans at the memory. “You were off your rocker that night, I’m tellin’ you,” you start to laugh harder, remembering how Bill stood up on the dining room table of the Burrow, singing along to music that he blasted as everyone laughed and sang along with him. Graduation was such a happy time in your young adult life, you wished you could go back and relive it.

He rubs his face with one hand and speaks, “We were a mess that night, weren’t we?”

“We? Don’t drag me into this, Weasley! I was perfectly happy having one drink, but it was you who made me drink bloody Daisyroot Draught! The smell now makes me sick,” you contort your face with disgust as Bill laughs. “I will admit though, I’ve missed you quite a bit,” you confess, playing with the edges of the dish rag in your hands as you look up at Bill.

Slowly, a smile finds its way onto Bill’s lips as your heart flutters gently as his eyes look into yours. He still had the same eyes that you adored so fondly as a child and teen. In his eyes contained all the memories of Hogwarts and late nights and sleepover at the Burrow. His eyes had laughter and joy in them that you so missed during times like this. You missed Bill Weasley. For more than one reason.

“I’ve missed you more than quite a bit,” Bill reveals as you allow heat to rise to your cheeks. “I missed having my partner in crime around. Sneaking into the kitchens and then getting caught by McGonagall,” he recalls.

You laugh, “Stop, and then she asked if she could join us!” The two of you are in hysterics at the memory of eating leftovers and sweets in the kitchens with Minerva McGonagall as third year students, chatting about school and life after Hogwarts. McGonagall had always taken a liking to the two of you. She always said that you two were peas in a pod.

Bill smiles and takes a sip from his whiskey before speaking, “How long are you working tonight? I’d be happy to stay with you until you clock out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m the closer and we don’t close the bar down until two in the morning.”

With a cheeky smirk, Bill huffs, “Well, we’ve got a lot to catch up on and we got...” he looks at the clock on the wall, “four and a half hours to kill. So, start talking, (Y/N). We’ve got all night,” he speaks, dropping his left eye in a wink as you smile with a blush.

-----------

For the next four hours, you and Bill caught up on everything. And by everything, you mean everything. His life after Hogwarts sounded much more interesting than what you had been doing to keep busy. Bill had been spending his time as a Curse-Breaker for Gringott’s, going on missions throughout Egypt, coming home to London here and there. You smiled as he recounted his stories with such passion and love in his eyes. It was evident that Bill loved what he was doing and he was sad that he couldn’t continue doing his job, now being stationed back in London at a boring desk job. Quite the downgrade from fighting and defeating mummies to working an office job.

Soon, people were filing out of the bar as closing time approached until it was just you and Bill in the pub. You had moved from standing behind the bar to sitting on a stool next to Bill, leaning on the bar as you listened to his deep baritone voice speak to you.

Bill placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “(Y/N)? Tell me something,” he speaks.

“Anything, Weasley,” you smile at him, sleepily.

Bill chuckles, “Why are you working as a bar maid when you could be going out and doing what you love? Teaching. You’ve always wanted to teach students magic and it doesn’t seem fair that you are parked behind a bar pouring ale and lager to lazy blokes.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I’m serious. What’s stopping you?”

You sigh and recount everything that has held you back from doing what you want. First off, no wizarding school in the United Kingdom was hiring any professor right now due to the climate of the wizarding world. The only other option was moving to America and maybe teaching there at Ilvermorny? Maybe Beauxbatons in France? But it wasn’t a guarantee that you could find a job with such little teaching experience under your belt. “Besides the hiring freeze? I have no experience teaching, Bill. Plus, I want to make money for myself right now so I can save it up and move into my own place rather than living in my small flat with a bunch of my mates. The only other jobs are abroad and I do not have that much money to make a move like that. Besides, my whole family is here. My friends. And you’ve just come back now and leaving just seems illogical,” you sigh, knowing that your dream would have to wait.

He shakes his head, “Excuses, excuses.” You shake your head and take a sip from the whiskey that you had poured yourself, the amber liquid warming up your chest and stomach. It tasted like graduation. “If I can teach a year at Hogwarts, then you certainly can. Besides, you were just as good, if not better, than me in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m sure they could use your help more than ever right now.”

Looking up at Bill, you see how tender and soft his gaze is on you. He really meant every word he spoke to you with genuine honesty. Looking at Bill now was like looking at someone who you had known forever. He really hadn’t changed one bit. He was witty and kind and smart and sweet. Your Bill. But at the same time, he was different. He had become so mature and ruthless and brave. It was a new Bill, a Bill you could get used to.

You look down and see that his hand was still placed on your knee. Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat and Bill retracts his hand, digging it into the pocket of his jacket again as you take a sip of your whiskey. “Well,” you start, “I know I would be a better professor than you...I’m better at a lot of things than you,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Do I smell a challenge?” Bill laughs as you shrug. “Ah, ah, don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he leans back in his chair, tongue pressed to his cheek as you gulp, the nickname making your palms sweat. “Go on,” he speaks, daring you to challenge him. “You chose.”

Trying to ignore the rapid increase in your heart rate, you swallow hard. “Fine,” you smile before reaching over to the other side of a bar, grabbing a jar filled with a red liquid and multiple bright red cherries. Twisting the cap open, you pluck out two maraschino cherries, one for you and one for Bill. “I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue faster than you can,” you smirk, flirtatiously biting the cherry of its stem as Bill’s eyes widen and he gulps, shifting in his seat.

He clears his throat, “Yeah? How much you wanna bet?”

You think for a moment, trying to find a wager that would make this worth your while. “If I win, you pick up the tab from tonight,” you smile.

“I thought this was all on the house?” he scoffs with a smirk.

“Not if you lose,” you sing song, making him roll his eyes. “And Albert told me about a new worker at Gringott’s. Fleur Delacour? Yeah, you’ve gotta ask her out on a date,” you smirk.

Bill’s eyes widen. “Fleur?!” he exclaims with a laugh. “She’s my co-worker! Plus, we’re just friends. Nothing’s there,” he reasons as you shake your head.

You laugh, “Well those are my terms if I win. Gotta get you out on the dating field, Weasley.” You tease him as he smirks, looking down at the whiskey glass in his hands. “And if you win?”

He thinks for a moment, swirling the whiskey around and around in his glass, pondering what his terms would be. Bill bites the cherry off the stem as you watch his lips move carefully, like you were in a trance of some kind. You quickly shake it off, trying to keep yourself from getting distracted by him. “If I win,” Bill huffs, “then first of all, the drinks are on the house. Second, you’ll have to stop by the Burrow because once Mum hears that you’re in London, she’ll have a cow,” he laughs as you giggle. Molly Weasley, what an angel. “And third of all,” he speaks, leaning forward on his elbows so he’s closer to your face as you inhale sharply, “I’ll ask whoever the fuck I want on a date.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your whole body tingles as the words all from his lips. You can’t take your eyes off of his you are frozen. Bill smirks at your reaction before slowly leaning back in his chair, biting down softly on his lower lip as you gulp. “O-Okay then,” you manage to make out, trying to reorient yourself as Bill chuckles. “Count of three?” you speak before placing the cherry stem in your mouth as Bill does his. “One...two...three.”

With that, the two of you start twisting your tongue around the cherry stem, trying to tie it before the other could. Your heart is racing a mile a minute and your stomach is doing flips as your mind is screaming what the hell is going on. The entire time Bill doesn’t take his eyes off of you, staring into yours. The act felt so inherently sexual that you could feel your palms sweat and a second heartbeat between your thighs grow. This was a terribly good idea.

You can feel the cherry stem in your mouth finally slip into a knot as your eyes widen in victory, hand flying up to your mouth so you can show Bill the work you have done. As you hand reaches your lips, Bill’s fingers slyly pull his cherry stem out of his mouth just mere milliseconds before you. “I win,” he speaks.

“You cheated!” you instantly accuse him, pointing your finger at him.

Bill chuckles, “How did I cheat? I won fair and square and you know it, you sore loser.”

You shake your head, “I clearly won, you saw me! You had to have cheated, just so you could get free whiskey out of it!” Bill just shakes his head and grabs your chair, pulling you closer to him as you fail to notice as you keep rambling nervously. “Admit it, Bill, you just don’t like to admit that you’re not Hogwarts’ golden child anymore. You’ve out grown that title. Step aside for the new winner which is me, of course. You know I won, come on, Bill. I def-”

“(Y/N)?” he asks softly.

You realize that you are mere inches away from Bill now, his hands resting on either side of your stool. You inhale slowly and gulp, trying to calm yourself down to prepare for the inevitable. “Yes, Bill?” you respond just as softly.

“Shut up,” he whispers with a smile.

“Okay.”

Without further hesitation, Bill leans forward and connects your lips together as you inhale deeply, kissing him back and wrapping your arms around his neck instantly. Bill’s hands slide around your sides before hoisting you onto the bar, him standing between your legs as he kisses you deeper. You wrap your legs around his torso, drawing him closer to you, needing to feel his body pressed against yours. His lips move against yours with deep desire that he had been saving for so long and finally, you both were getting what you wanted for so long. His mouth tasted of the whiskey as you took more and more of it, drunk off of his kiss.

His hands held onto you tightly, not daring to let you go as you lightly moaned into his lips, making him smirk. Bill’s tongue was cool against yours as he massaged yours with his, snogging you right in the middle of the bar. Your mouths moved together, lusting after the other’s touch. You hands ran down his chest and his abs as he groaned gently into your mouth, making your stomach flutter as you smirked softly. Bill’s hand cupped your cheek before making its way to the back of your neck, pressing your lips harder against his.

You wanted to take him in this pub just like this, but Bill pulls away before you can push off his jacket. The two of you are breathless from kissing, chest heaving up and down, a smile on both of your faces as you blush a wild crimson. “You win,” you surrender to Bill who chuckles.

“I always win, sweetheart,” he winks before kissing you again, this time short as you whine when he pulls away. “And since I won, that means that this whiskey,” he points to his glass, “is on the house, you’ll be joining the Weasley’s for Sunday dinner, and on Monday night, you’ll be taking the night off so I can take you out on a proper date rather than just snogging on the bar of the pub,” he speaks as you laugh.

You run your fingers through his hair, “You mean you do like snogging me on the bar?” you tease him.

Bill furrows his brows, “Hey, hey, slow your roll. Don’t put words in my mouth now.” You laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than snog you in every location of his pub,” he winks as you roll your eyes. “But I reckon a girl like you should be taken out on a proper date by a bloke like me, eh?”

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you speak against them, “It’d be my honor.”

“Wicked,” he smirked, giving your sides a squeeze before hoisting you down from the bar. “How about you lock this place up and I’ll walk you back to your flat. Can’t have precious cargo like you roaming the streets alone,” he speaks with a gentle tap on your bum as you roll your eyes.

You shove his shoulder teasingly, “Hey, just because you came back from Egypt, Mr. Big Shot, doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me.” Bill chuckles as you smile, “But yeah, I’ll let you walk me home, Weasley.”

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x reader imagine #bill weasley x fem! reader #bill weasley x feminine! reader #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley fic #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley x mc #bill x reader #bill x y/n #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #harry imagine #bill weasley smut

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xkaileo · 3 years

Note

For the one shot request:

Sasuke coming back from his first redemption journey a couple of years after the war. He meets naruto at ichiraku, then Sakura happens to walk by. Naruto insists she join and she’s so happy sasuke is back, but keeps the interaction “friendly” not “young girl talking to her crush”. Quickly after she gets a scroll from a bird and has to go. Naruto then explains that Sakura is in really high demand and basically brags about all of her accomplishments and everything she does for the village as a medic but also as a jounin. Sasuke is proud and happy for her but it’s not until later when he sees her sparring someone really good (Tsunade, Kakashi, Yamato, anyone from Anbu) that he is s t u n n e d. Like jaw to the floor. He can’t resist watching and maybe activates his sharingan by accident. It is not until like 10 minutes have gone by that he notices her ANBU tattoo for the first time.

So of course canon-divergent. I know it’s super clunky the way I laid it out (can you tell I’m no author?) lol anyways I thought it would be really nice to get a look inside Sasuke’s head the first time he’s gotten the metaphorical wind knocked out of him by Sakura haha.

Ask and you shall receive, nonny! This one was fun to write, having Sasuke sort of be stunned by her and feel just the need to do something about it; it was fun to put him in a position where he had to push a little to get something out of Sakura. Enjoy!

She's A Hot Commodity

It was amazing how much the Hidden Leaf Village could change over two years. More than Sasuke had expected, honestly; he'd thought the village was done with its constant renovations after multiple attempts for it to be destroyed. Well, they'd nearly come close one time, though he'd stepped in to assist. Meteors falling off the moon… who would have thought?

His first stop was Ichiraku, as he'd made one promise: he was going to treat Naruto to a bowl of ramen when he got back. His blonde friend was already there, waving wildly as he approached.

"Sasuke! You're back!" Naruto gave him a hug in greeting, to which Sasuke begrudgingly allowed. He wasn't one for physical affection, but one hug from his best friend wouldn't be the end of the world. Plus, he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't. Naruto would spend their entire lunch pouting and whining about it if he was turned down.

As they were seated, both boys heard a familiar voice behind them, and it was… None other than Sakura. Sasuke couldn't help but stare, just for a moment. It'd been a long time. She'd grown out her hair and seemed to be wearing it up in a ponytail. When had it got so long? Now that he thought about it… It'd been a little longer when he left, but now it had to be almost to her waist. He hadn't seen it that long since they were kids. He… liked it, if he was honest.

"Sakura." He nodded in greeting, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. He was glad to see her. Maybe now he'd be able to take things… a little further, to put it simply. He'd left her with nothing more than a promise, and this was the start of it. He was here. He'd returned. Whether he would stay for an extended period was another question, but he did plan to offer for her to accompany him this time. He just had… a few errands to take care of before he left again.

"Sasuke! It's been so long!" Sakura came up between them and threw her arms over his and Naruto's shoulders, giggling as she was hanging out between them. "Would you look at that? My two favourite dorks are having lunch together. You know, Sasuke, if he's got you here against your will, all you have to do is ask." Well… Ramen usually would have been against his will, but this time, it wasn't. He was surprised when she leaned closer to his ear, her voice no more than a whisper.

"There's a new place that opened that serves rice balls if you need an escape." She clapped him on the back before turning to Naruto, who'd caught her attention.

"Sakura, join us!" He encouraged, and her expression went thoughtful for a moment before she agreed. Naruto shifted down one seat, allowing Sakura to sit between them. Sasuke didn't want to admit he was glad Naruto had shifted down; he wanted to sit next to Sakura, but he wasn't sure if she would have done that of her own accord. He couldn't blame her; it'd been a long time since they'd spoken, and there was… a lot they needed to talk about. She seemed… different. Not unfriendly, but there was something different about the way she was talking to him. No more blushing or bashful looks in his direction. He'd expected that much from her, but… was it possible something had happened?

Maybe… maybe she'd moved on. He didn't want to think that, but it seemed to be a possibility. Nevertheless, if that were Sakura's decision, that would have to be how things were. Friends were better than absolutely nothing.

Just as she was about to order, the sound of a messenger hawk could be heard, interrupting their conversation. Naruto and Sakura had been chatting animatedly, Naruto having made some dumb comment that Sakura was reaming him for while Sasuke chuckled at their antics. At least some things never change. He's still opening his mouth when he should be shutting it, and she's putting him in his place… as usual.

"Oh… I'm sorry, guys." Sakura's expression turned to a frown. "This is for me, and it's urgent. I have to get going. Sorry again. Let's pick another day to get ramen together as a team, though, okay? And… it's good to see you back, Sasuke." She gave him a smile that lit up her whole face, and it made his heart skip a beat. She was different, sure, but it was… nice. It made him feel a bit giddy.

"Yeah… Shoulda seen that one coming," Naruto admitted.

"Does that happen a lot?" Sasuke was genuinely curious. He knew Sakura was a hard worker, but she always knew how to make time for her friends. It seemed out of the ordinary for her to disappear so suddenly. If it was the hospital, wasn't Tsunade there to help out?

"Yeah, it kinda does. Sakura's kind of a big deal around the village now. It makes me a little jealous." Naruto, jealous? Sasuke wondered just how important she was, but as always, Naruto had the explanation. "She's done so much stuff! She opened a clinic for all the kids in the village that lost parents during the war, and she's been working with Ino and some professionals to get them the help they need. Just so they don't feel alone, ya know? You and I both know no one deserves to feel like that." After all, they were the very same kinds of kids that that clinic was helping. Sasuke was shocked and also touched. Had Sakura done all that in two years?

"Oh yeah! And she works super hard at the hospital. She's one of the only medical ninja in the village who's allowed to take missions alone, and that's a huge deal! She's been going to all kinds of places on missions, mostly deliveries or to provide medical help, but I swear she's always gone on a mission! She keeps asking me to water her plants like… every week." Naruto didn't mind her asking that, though. He liked taking care of them. Gardening was oddly calming.

"Wow," Sasuke remarked. It was not what he would have expected out of Sakura… not precisely, that is. He knew she was brilliant, but looking back to how they were as kids… no, when they'd first been put on a team, he never would have expected that much out of her. "Has she been doing anything else?"

"Oh yeah! She mentioned somethin' about taking on a team of genin, too. I think she'd make a great teacher, don'tcha think?" Naruto elbowed Sasuke gently, earning a grunt out of him and a nod in response. Sakura would make a stellar teacher. If she took on a trio of genin as their Jounin sensei, then they would undoubtedly be a force to be reckoned with.

He was… proud of her, honestly. To think she’d come so far from her capabilities when they were kids… she was so incredibly talented, it even made him a little jealous. He’d been a prodigy, but to see her hard work coming to fruition was exceptional. She was amazing. More impressive than he was expecting.

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

It’d been days since he’d last seen Sakura, and after only briefly meeting her, he decided the best way to pass the time until she returned was training. He liked training; it kept him in shape, allowed him to practice living life with just one arm, and helped him clear his mind when it got too tumultuous to handle. Making his way to the training grounds, he was stopped by a flicker of familiar chakra that crossed the vision of his left eye.

Sakura? She was… Training? He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. That, and he found himself deeply intrigued. Like a curious cat, he made his way to the edge of the trees, remaining at a safe distance where he could watch. It looked like she was training with Kakashi, whom he would have considered a force to be reckoned with. He was a former ANBU, after all.

Wait… no. It wasn’t just Kakashi there. Yamato was there, too, and… wait, was Sakura taking them both on at the same time? His curiosity was piqued enough that he activated his Sharingan, using it to track her movements; in high-speed fights like these, it was a necessity. He would've never been able to keep up with Sakura's motions otherwise.

He watched her, amazed beyond belief. Every movement she made was fluid, each motion flowing into the next like an unbreakable chain. There was no hesitation or consideration; she moved without thinking, her body reacting with an impeccable natural flow. He’d never seen such fluid movements before, not even back during the war. What had she done since he’d been gone? He knew she was a Jounin now, but this… no, she had to be more than that. She was well above the level of a Jounin. It was almost an insult to put her that low.

He stared for longer than he’d expected, watching as she evaded both Yamato and Kakashi’s tactics, dancing around them like they were nothing. He watched as her long, pink hair flowed with every movement, even the occasional piece sticking to the sweat that formed on her brow. Even as she turned, he could see the concentration in her gaze, focusing on every motion. There was strength and power in the way she moved. There was one thing that bothered him, though, one thing he couldn't shake.

When had Sakura become so beautiful? He remembered her being cute when they were kids, though he hadn't been in the right state of mind to say anything about it. He'd also noticed she was prettier as they got older, but he'd never been able to take the time to appreciate it. Now, staring at her, he realized how attractive she was. He was taken aback by what he was seeing. It made his cheeks flush, made his heart race, and also made his heart wrench. Maybe… maybe he'd have to say something to her: something direct, this time.

It wasn’t until Sakura stopped, calling a halt to her training with Yamato and Kakashi to take a breather, that he noticed something else. He knew that symbol. Other Jounin he knew and had met bore it too. This wasn’t friendly training between three Jounin. It was so much more than that. But it made Sasuke wonder…

When did Sakura decide to join the ANBU? That was undoubtedly one of the last things he'd expected of her. As he stared at her training, he hadn't realized her gaze had turned in his direction; once he did, he ducked behind one of the trees, heart beating rapidly. Had she seen him? Had she caught him staring so openly at her? He hoped not. The last thing he wanted was to seem weird or creepy. One thing he did know was that Sakura's temper was terrifying, and he would have preferred not to be on her bad side.

"You're not doing a very good job of hiding, Sasuke." He looked up to see her above him on one of the branches, a smile teasing her lips. He startled at the sound of her voice, grumbling under his breath and turning away as the faintest shade of pink dusted his cheeks. Damn. She really was good. She'd caught even him off-guard.

"I wasn't hiding," he lied. Oh, he knew he was hiding, all right. He simply refused to admit it. "I thought this training ground was empty. I was mistaken." He heard her feet land in front of him, which urged him to keep his face hidden from her; he didn't want her to see just how much his cheeks had coloured at her appearance. It was all he could do not to look back and stare, admiring every inch of her toned figure.

"You're also not very good at lying," she teased further, taking a step toward him. "What's got you all flustered?" Damn. She hadn't missed it.

"It's hot outside." Technically not a lie; it was a scorching summer day, and he was wearing a heavy cloak. "I'm just flushed from the heat." Definitely a lie. His cloak was designed to keep heat in and keep cooler air closer to his body, like a cat's fur coat. It kept him comfortably thermoregulated.

"Liar," she accused.

"Tch." He wasn't going to dignify that with a response. She giggled in response to his gruff comment, leaving him to straighten as if he were on his way. She… was in his way, though, which meant he had to brush past her to leave. As his eye opened, he realized she was closer than before. He could smell her from where he stood. Her skin glistened with the faintest layer of sweat from her training, hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead. It didn't bother him; he was used to much worse sights.

Nevertheless, her skin was glowing from the exercise, and the way her green eyes sparkled made her look prettier. So pretty, he could feel his heart racing. He couldn't bring himself to move. If he so much as touched her, he knew what he'd end up doing.

"Sasuke, are you… okay?" Her head tilted to the side, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Stop it, he tried to scold her mentally, knowing it wouldn't work.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Liar. With one sharp breath, he took a step forward, his hand reaching to brush her out of the way gently. She stepped in front of him, stopping him and grasping at his wrist. He remembered that grasp; it was the same way he'd done it to her years ago, a firm but gentle grip. She released it after he stopped moving. Their gazes drew together instinctively; no words needed to be spoken between them. Sasuke felt a growing sense of worry after what he'd realized. Sakura was ANBU. That meant she put her life on the line every day, every mission, everything. It meant that at any moment when she wasn't on a mission, the Hokage could call her for one, and it could be the last time anyone would see her.

He couldn't wait. The moment Sakura released his wrist from her grasp, he reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair as need took precedence over logic. His lips crashed against hers fiercely, years of restrained emotions flaring in his chest as he kissed her. She seemed surprised for a split second but was quick to reciprocate; he felt her hands lock around his neck, leading him to skim a hand down her back, pulling her body tighter against his. At some point, he turned, pressing her back against the tree as they continued their motions, eventually breaking apart to breathe, staring at one another with wordless affirmations.

#sasusaku #sasusaku oneshot #sasusaku fanfic #sasusaku fanfiction #sasukexsakura #sakuraxsasuke #sakura haruno #naruto shippuden #anbu sakura #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sakura #sakuraharuno #harunosakura #sasukeuchiha #uchihasasuke #sakura uchiha #sakurauchiha #uchihasakura #xkaileo oneshots

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zukoszukhoes · 4 years

Text

Don’t Speak- Zuko x Reader

// Soulmate au- Zuko x reader

// summary: In the Fire Nation, when you turn 16, the first words your soulmate will say to you appear on your wrist. Just after y/n’s 17th birthday, they don’t think they’ll ever find their soulmate. Until a certain prince, back from his banishment, comes to stay at their family’s estate on holiday. Suddenly, y/n is faced with a complicated problem; after all, what do you do when your soulmate is the crown prince of the nation you hate?

//part 2 here

//warnings: none, just some angst and a little threatening

// (Y/M/N)= your mother’s name

“(Y/n), the royal procession is here! Come quickly!” The head maid, Lotty, cried into your room.

Shit! You thought, lurching up from your bed. You’d gotten so engrossed in your book you’d forgetting to keep track of time. And now your hair was a mess, your clothes were wrinkled, and you still couldn’t find your shoes. Your father was going to kill you when he saw you.

“Lotty, have you seen my shoes? The ones we got last week for the procession?” You shouted, throwing on your banquet wear as fast as you could.

“It’s in the closet!” Lotty called back from the other room, her voice panicked. Having visitors always put Lotty on edge.

“No, they’re not!”

Lotty rushed in your room, face scrunched up with stress and hair resembling a bird’s nest. “What do you mean they’re not in the closet?” She screeched.

“I checked the closet and I’m telling you they’re not there!”

“Spirits, child! Could you at least try and be organized?!” Lotty cried, digging into the closet. She emerged a minute later with the shoes held triumphantly in her hands and shoved them into your chest. “Now, go, quickly! The prince will be here any minute!”

The prince. The words echoed bitterly in your mind. Despite being the child of a powerful Fire Nation government official, living in the Fire Nation brought you no joy.

Growing up, you’d watched as the Fire Nation conquered the rest of the world. You’d been taught that it was the right thing to do, that you were sharing your success to create a better world. But when your father told you of the lives lost-on both sides- you couldn’t help but hate the war, and the Fire Nation. To you, it was all senseless killing, poorly disguised under the name “progress.”

When you heard about the prince’s banishment for speaking out against the Firelord’s war plans, you’d hoped it meant that he was a fair, wise, and just person. And, that maybe, one day, he would come back and be the Firelord the world needed him to be. However, when you learned he’d killed the avatar in Ba Sing Se, you knew in your heart that he was just as evil as the rest of his family.

Still, your reservations about the royal family did not deter your own family from idolizing them. After all, the Firelord had given your father a respectable job, a good home, and a steady living. Being a high-ranking government official had opened all kinds of doors for your family. So when the Firelord asked your father to host his son, Prince Zuko, while he was meeting with his war generals, how could he say no?

“You’re late.” Your father grumbled as you fell into line in between him and your mother. “Why, on today of all days, did you choose to be late?”

“I’m sorry, father.” You replied, fixing your shirt surreptitiously. “I lost track of time.”

A horrified gasp escaped your mother’s lips. “(Y/N)! Your mark!” She whispered, grabbing your wrist.

In the Fire Nation, everyone had the first words their soulmate would every say to them imprinted on their wrist. However, it was considered improper to display your mark in public. Anything having to do with soulmates was considered private, intimate, and extremely personal. To show your mark to the public, when you haven’t met your soulmate yet, would be considered betraying your soulmate’s trust before you’d even met them. Your parents seemed to believe in this idea more than most. They’d gone to extreme lengths to make sure no one other than themselves, Lotty, and yourself had seen the mark.

You glanced down, reading the words you’d read a hundred times over: “Your shoe is untied.”

“Here,” your mother huffed, handing you her own wrist cuffs. Her mark was gone, disappeared the first day she had met your father. You slipped on the cuffs, watching the words disappear under the bronze metal. “And next time, be more careful!” Your mother scolded you.

You rolled your eyes. But before you could respond, the front gates opened. A palanquin, painted blood red with regal gold detailing, appeared through the gates. Held up by four exhausted-looking palanquin bearers and flanked by guards, it was a statement of royalty that could not be ignored. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the pomp of it all.

“It’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?” You snorted. Your father glared at you, but cracked a smile nonetheless.

Gauzy white curtains fluttered in the wind as the palanquin bearers strode their way up to the house. In between the curtains you caught a glimpse of a high ebony ponytail, a flaming crimson scar, and two golden, piercing eyes. Eyes widening with surprise, you quickly averted your gaze, a shiver racing down your spine. What was that? After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the palanquin finally stopped in front of your family.

“Please bow for Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation!” One of the guards barked, dropping to one knee. Immediately all of the other guards followed. You slipped into a low bow, watching out of the corner of your eye as the palanquin bearers parted the curtains for the prince to descend.

You’d expected to find the prince revolting. When you imagined meeting him before, his image only conjured anger over the war, anger over all of the injustices you’d heard of over the years. But when the prince emerged from the palanquin, you didn’t feel anger; instead, you felt your heart skip a beat.

Tall and regal, Prince Zuko had a commanding presence that seemed to wrap around your heart and squeeze. You’d always heard that the royal family was cold and calculated- but the prince reeked of raw emotion. He did not smile- or show any expression at all- but his presence emanated raw angst. And those eyes. Once again, the flash of molten amber met yours, one eye haloed in dark red, and sent a jolt down your spine. Looking into his eyes, you felt as if you could watch the gears in his head turn and twist as he studied you. All of his turmoil, rage, and sorrow swirled in those pools of amber, shaking you to your core. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze of liquid gold seeming to find something interesting in you.

You knew it was improper to hold his gaze for so long, but you couldn’t look away. He was incredible, yet turbulent; beautiful, but terrifying. Part of your brain saw him and thought he was nothing more than a teenage boy. The other part screamed that he was nothing but another killer.

“Prince Zuko, it is an honor to have you with us,” your father greeted in a booming voice. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood to attention, looking very much like the important official he was. “I am Executive (L/N). This is my wife, (Y/M/N), and my child, (Y/N).”

“Thank you for hosting me. It is a pleasure to meet all of you.” Zuko replied, his voice quieter than you expected.

“We hope the home is to your liking. If you need anything at all during your stay, feel free to take full advantage of the staff,” your mother said with a gracious smile.

The prince dipped his head in a subtle nod. “I appreciate your hospitality.” He paused, gaze sliding to yours once again. His eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. “You’re (Y/N)?”

You simply nodded. It seemed better not to speak than to speak and say something out of turn (which, as your mother liked to complain, was a frequent and annoying habit of yours).

The prince walked forward until he was standing just a few paces away. He continued to study you up and down, face devoid of emotion. Finally, he remarked in a flat tone, “Your shoe is untied.”

Immediately all of the blood drained from your face. Underneath your cuff, your wrist burned. Your mother let out a small gasp, her excitement palpable. But you felt nothing but dread.

This is impossible. It has to be! Your thoughts raced frantically. Your heart began to thump loudly in your chest, fueled by panic-induced adrenaline. It had to be fake. It had to be.

Because if it wasn’t, than that meant that the crown prince- heir to the throne- of the nation you hated was your soulmate.

You glanced to the side and caught Lotty’s eye. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement, coaxing you to say something. Of course, she, your mother, and your father all knew your words. They knew that Prince Zuko’s first words to you were the first words your soulmate would say to you. No doubt they thought this was a good thing, a cause for celebration. How could they not realize Prince Zuko being your soulmate was the last thing you wanted?

A bead of sweat traveled down the back of your neck. Your father nudged you inconspicuously, prodding you to say something. But you couldn’t. Because those words would cement you as the crown prince’s soulmate.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. If speaking would make you Prince Zuko’s soulmate, then you just wouldn’t speak at all.

You clamped your mouth shut, choosing to nod again instead of replying. The prince raised an eyebrow, tension thickening in the air as he waited for a response.

“Excuse my (Y/N).” Your mother laughed suddenly, breaking the tension. She placed a hand on your shoulder in a seemingly harmless gesture, but her nails dug into your skin. “They can be so forgetful sometimes!”

The Prince’s eyes never left yours. “I understand.” He said flatly. His gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he turned away, towards your father.

“You must be tired after your journey. Let me show you to your quarters.” Your father said, lowering himself into a bow.

“Thank you.” The prince replied. He nodded to the palanquin bearers to bring his luggage forward.

“Come, right this way.” Your father directed him towards the entrance. They walked inside, thankfully releasing you from the prince’s presence.

You exhaled slowly, feeling some of your anxiety melt away that the prince was gone. However, your mother’s tension was clearly rising.

“What were you thinking?” She hissed, nails digging deep into your shoulder. “Refusing to speak to a royal! Spirits, (Y/N), I knew you could be headstrong but- but- this!”

Quickly, you looked around for the prince before turning back to your mother. “You heard what he said to me. It matches.”

“I know!” She squealed. “All the more reason to speak to him! You don’t want to insult your future husband more than you already have, do you?”

“Future husband?!” Heat rushed to your cheeks. “Spirits, mother, I just met him!”

“Darling, he’s your soulmate.” Your mother’s voice softened along with her grip on your shoulder. She smiled gently, her other hand raising to caress your cheek. “You two will be together, whether you want to or not.”

You swatted your mother’s hand away, a furious blush scorching your cheeks. “We don’t know that he’s my soulmate. After all, I haven’t even spoken to him yet.”

Your mother’s eyes narrowed and she leaned back, crossing her arms. “So that’s why you refuse to speak to the prince?”

You simply looked away. Lotty caught your gaze, concern swimming in her eyes.

Your mother scoffed. “Don’t be a coward, (Y/N). You have a great opportunity here. You could rule alongside the Firelord, and bring glory to our family!”

You turned away, anger simmering inside of you. “I’m not a coward. And I don’t want to rule beside the Firelord.”

Your mother opened her mouth to reply, face red with rage, but before she could, a servant came out of the front doors and rang the dinner bell.

“This is not over.” Your mother glowered, sweeping past you towards the dining hall. You sighed, about to follow, but stopped for a moment. Glancing down, you groaned. Your shoe really was untied.

~~~

The night was cool and clear. A breeze drifted lazily through your open window, bringing sounds of toad-crickets and beetle-sparrows with it. The last embers of a dying fire crackled in the fireplace. Under your mountain of blankets, you should have been fast asleep. Instead, you were wide awake, the day’s events replaying over and over again in your head. Having a soulmate was terrifying enough, but having the prince of the Fire Nation as a soulmate? That was something else entirely.

Throwing back your covers, you slipped out of bed, abandoning your futile attempts at sleep. You lit a candle and silently left your room, making your way towards your favorite spot in the house. It was a small balcony situated just off of the hallway leading to the servants quarters. Small and hidden from outside view thanks to some nearby trees, it was the perfect place to hide and think. You often found yourself seated there on nights you couldn’t sleep, listening to the cicada-frogs until you were tired enough to go back to your room.

You quietly opened the door to the balcony, looking forward to the solitude, but that night it seemed you had company.

Prince Zuko sat on the weathered stone, staring up at the stars with a dying candle next to him. His head turned as you opened the door.

Panic flared in your chest and you immediately receded, but before you could retreat fully, the prince’s voice called out to you, “Wait!”

You paused, your heart hammering in your chest. Your mind screamed at you to ran back to your room and forget the interaction had ever occurred, but something compelled you forward. Slowly, you opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony.

Zuko was staring at you inquisitively, like you were a puzzle he was trying to piece together. A slight blush colored his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take your spot. I couldn’t sleep.”

You didn’t respond.

The prince’s face suddenly soured and his hand curled into a fist. “Why won’t you speak to me?” He yelled, features scrunched in rage.

Your eyes widened, a jolt of fear electrifying your heart, until you remembered who you were. Yes, you were technically one of Prince Zuko’s future subjects. But you were also not one to be bullied.

Crossing your arms, you glared at the prince, daring him to yell at you again.

It seemed to work. The rage melted into annoyance. Zuko huffed, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, and turned his attention back to the stars. “You’re very frustrating.”

You cracked a smile and slowly relaxed a bit.

“You have a nice house. Do you like it here?” Zuko asked, doing his best to appear nonchalant.

You grinned and shook your head, as if to say, Your tricks won’t work on me.

Instantly, Zuko’s demeanor changed. He become more guarded, more shrouded in angst. “Do you want to know the real reason I’m here?” He started suddenly. He waited for your slow nod before continuing. “My father thinks there’s a spy here.”

Shock sliced through your chest despite your attempts to appear indifferent. A spy? At your house? You shook your head. It was impossible.

Zuko turned to you again, his gaze suspicious. “Maybe I should be looking at you more closely. Maybe you won’t speak to me because you’re the traitor.”

A laugh burst out of your mouth. You, a spy? You certainly had your qualms with the Fire Nation, but your town was tiny and your father barely let you talk to anyone outside of his own circle.

“I know you hate me!” Zuko snarled. “Everyone knows you hate the Fire Nation and the royal family. Who else would betray their country but you?”

You stayed silent, unsure whether to be afraid of Zuko or laugh at him. His anger was impressive to be sure, but it was all bark, no bite. It was a facade to protect himself from his true feelings. You could see that it in his eyes.

Finally, Zuko looked away, a frustrated groan escaping his lips. He leaned against his knee, his other leg sprawled out on the cobblestone. He radiated nonchalance, but there was an uneasiness in his stature that betrayed the turmoil raging beyond his perfectly-measured exterior. Slowly, you reached out with your hand and placed your palm on his shoulder, trying to convey as much compassion as you could in the touch. You knew Zuko didn’t really think you were the spy; if he did, you would have already been in a Fire Nation prison.

The prince shrugged your hand off, still refusing to look at you, but you could see some of the anger dissipate from his frame. Cautiously, you sat down against the opposite railing, keeping your gaze on Zuko. For a minute, the two of you simply sat in silence, you waiting for Zuko to say something and Zuko too proud to do so.

Finally, Zuko broke the tension with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Things are just a bit... complicated, at the moment.”

You found yourself nodding in agreement.

Zuko glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “You can talk, can’t you?”

You smirked teasingly. Zuko grunted and looked away, running a hand through his unkempt raven hair.

“Good. Glad to know I didn’t just yell at a mute person for not being able to speak.”

A quiet laugh escaped your lips. Zuko whipped his head to you in surprise, his blush deepening. Despite your determination to hate the prince, a blush of your own warmed your cheeks.

“I’m... glad I was able to talk to you tonight. Even if you didn’t talk back. Lotty said you’d probably come out here, but I wasn’t sure if you'd be here,” Zuko said.

You frowned. Of course Lotty had told him where to find you. She may not have been your parents, but she definitely thought highly of the royal family and would be thrilled if the prince was indeed your soulmate.

“Don’t blame her. I asked her to tell me,” Zuko reassured you quickly, seeing your frown.

You nodded; of course you didn't blame her. Suddenly, you yawned, a wave of fatigue washing over you.

“You’re tired.” Zuko stated, regaining the calm, princely demeanor he wore earlier in the day. You nodded again, crossing your arms to keep yourself warm in the cool night air. “Let me walk you back to your room.” He offered, standing up and holding out his hand. Quickly, you shook your head, launching to your feet. If one of the servants saw, rumors would no doubt spread like wildfire. Besides, you were trying your best to dislike Prince Zuko, and every second you spent with him was waning away your hatred. It was better to stay away.

Zuko’s outstretched hand fell to his side. His face settled into a steely glare and he raised his chin slightly, trying his best (but failing) to appear unaffected. “Fine. Until tomorrow, then.”

You paused, part of you wanting to stay back. Instead, you bowed hastily and retreated from the deck, quickly walking back to the safety of your room. When you were safely nestled under your blankets, heart racing from the encounter, you finally allowed yourself to breathe fully.

In the matter of a few hours, your life had become more complicated than it had ever been before. There could be a spy in your midst, you may have found your soulmate, and that soulmate may have been the crown prince of the Fire Nation. Despite the thoughts running through your head, however, you found yourself yawning. Burying yourself deeper into your pillows, sleep slowly tugged at your brain, sinking you deeper and deeper into darkness. But your thoughts of Prince Zuko spiraled with you, until, when you finally tumbled into sleep’s warm embrace, it was Zuko’s amber eyes that watched you fall.

~~~

The next morning, you decided you needed to do whatever possible to avoid the prince. You couldn’t risk another meeting with him, especially after your meeting from the night before, which had left you with certain... sympathetic thoughts towards Zuko. So when Lotty came into your room that morning, you proclaimed sudden illness and told her to leave you for the rest of the day. “To prevent the sickness from spreading to the prince,” you had claimed. Lotty, thankfully, had obediently left you alone and promised no one would come to see you. However, you still felt defenseless in your room, susceptible to a visit from Zuko. Thus, you found yourself following a path towards the back of the gardens, searching for seclusion. The gardens, lush, green, and sprawling across a whole acre, provided plenty of solitary clearings and hidden grottos to hide in. As you walked through a tunnel of trees towards the back edge of the gardens, you felt the tension from the past day melt from your shoulders. Vines spilled from trees and onto the path, dotted with Fire Lilies in bloom. The intoxicating smell worked its way into your muscles and dissipated the stress. Finally, as you reached the end of the path, you pushed through one last wall of leaves, feeling the last of your anxiousness fade away with the promise of solitude-

You gasped and immediately withdrew, your heart beginning to thump in your chest. Where you were sure you would find solitude, a moment of peace and quiet, you found something else entirely- Lotty. And, to make matters worse, she was speaking with Prince Zuko.

Luckily, the pair didn’t notice your presence. They were too busy arguing to notice you behind the wall of vines.

“Please, your Highness, have mercy!” Lotty was saying, a tremble in her voice. Peeking between the vines, you watched her sink to her knees in front of the Prince, her head bowed and hands clasped together.

Zuko’s face was scrunched up in anger, cheeks red. Faint wisps of steam curled outwards from his clenched fists. “You are a traitor to your country. How dare you ask for mercy, after all you’ve done?!” He shouted.

“I know I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t deserve your kindness. But, please, your Highness... for the sake of the girl... for the family... spare me!” Lotty whispered, face wide-open and terrified.

“When I was thirteen, my father permanently scarred me for speaking out of turn. If I didn’t receive mercy, you won’t either,” Zuko snarled. “Espionage is a far worse crime than foolishness.”

Your eyes widened. The spy. Lotty was the spy!

Lotty, the woman who had practically raised you. Lotty, the woman who had cooked for you, cleaned for you, and taken care of you your whole life. Lotty, who loved the Fire Nation so ardently- had betrayed your family to the rebels.

You sagged against the tree, shock paralyzing your limbs. She had betrayed you. And now, she was going to receive her punishment.

You forced yourself to look back through the curtain of vines, hands shaking.

“I’m sorry, Prince Zuko-” Lotty gasped, shielding her face. Zuko had a blazing fireball poised in his hand.

“Apologies won’t save you now.” Zuko growled. Raising his arm to strike, the fire cast monstrous shadows over the scene, highlighting Lotty’s terrified expression. You watched as her eyes widened, fraught with the knowledge that she was about to meet her doom- and before you knew what you were doing, you were running towards her, screaming at Zuko to stop.

“Don’t you touch her!” You cried, skidding in front of Lotty just as Zuko prepared to strike.

Zuko’s fireball disappeared.

Chest heaving, you glared daggers at Zuko. “If you want to get to her, you’ll have to go through me.”

Zuko’s mouth dropped open in horror, his face becoming pale. “No,” he whispered, a look of horrible realization dawning over his face. He ripped off the cuff on his right wrist, exposing his pale skin and the black words inked into his flesh:

“Don’t you touch her.”

His eyes met yours, panic filling his gaze. “What does yours say?” He whispered, his voice eager yet terrified.

You slipped your cuff off and your own words came to light. The words on yours and Zuko’s wrists began to turn golden from the inside, shining brighter and brighter until the words vanished from your wrists in a blaze of light, confirming the worst.

You and Prince Zuko really were soulmates.

Except, after seeing what he was capable of, you knew you'd never love him.

#atla #avatar aang #hello zuko here #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko imagine #imagines #atla imagine #soulmate au #atla soulmate au #zuko #atla fanfic #atla zuko

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lady-of-the-lotus · 3 years

Text

Xuexiao Goes to the DMV

Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen go to the DMV (aka Where Hope Goes To Die) and share a kiss.

That’s it. That’s the fic.

Xuexiao - T (just for some cursing) - Read on AO3!

“If you hear about someone going berserk in a DMV on the news, that’ll be me,” the mechanical text-to-speech voice reads aloud, and Xiao Xingchen turns to Xue Yang questioningly.

Xue Yang reaches over and turns the volume down on Xingchen’s phone. “Meant to send that to A-Qing.”

“Are we going to be escorted out? Again?”

Xue Yang grins and looks around the room. They’ve already been at the DMV for over an hour. Dozens of people are draped limply over the hard orange seats, eyes glazed, going down for the third time in a sea of government bureaucracy.

“Ticket 4352, now being served at window thirty-three,” announces the robotic voice over the loudspeaker.

“It would take an alien invasion to wake these people up,” Xue Yang says as a man in overalls shuffles past. “You should see these people. This must be what a lobotomy post-op recovery room looks like.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Like the world’s most incompetent deli, filled with zombie customers waiting to eat the brains of whatever the opposite of employee of the month is. Well, ‘brains.’ They work at the DMV, after all.”

Xiao Xingchen adjusts his sunglasses. “Let's not be mean.”

“And we can all hear you,” adds a woman on his left. “Not that it made much sense.”

Xue Yang makes a face at her and turns back to Xingchen. “If they make me come back a third time, I’m going to go postal. You know, going postal should be called ‘going DMV.’ It’s catchier, for one thing, and I’ve never so much as stepped foot in a post office—”

“I’m keeping you far away from post offices. Those poor people have suffered enough.”

“How so?”

“Well, there must be a reason they go postal, right?”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “If the post office has the same taste in music as the DMV, I don’t blame them. Who picked this station? If it’s not Justin Bieber it’s whoever inflicted ‘Kiss Me Through the Phone’ on the world. I’d like to do something to them through the phone, and it won’t be a kiss, I can tell you that much.”

Xiao Xingchen takes a Snickers bar out of the fanny pack Xue Yang has vainly begged him not to wear. “According to the television commercials, this will improve your mood.”

“My mood?” Xue Yang takes a bite. “If I have to hear ‘Baby’ one more time—”

“Ticket 9753, now being served at window fourteen.”

“ ‘Served.’ Ha. As if.”

Xiao Xingchen feels around for another Snickers bar but comes up empty. He should have planned this better. He’d sensed Xue Yang’s mood coming on last night as Xue Yang went through his documents. He’d been cheerful enough until he found his birth certificate in the bundle of papers he’d been given after leaving his last group home.

Then he’d grown strangely quiet, and wandered aimlessly around their apartment for an hour, carrying his phone around with him and switching between a half-dozen different YouTube videos before deciding to bake brownies at 1am and burning them when he got distracted playing video games. He wasn’t paying much attention to the video game, either, going by his cursing as he got repeatedly blown up by what Xingchen suspects was a twelve-year old somewhere in Japan, and eventually gave that up to go take apart their toaster in the interest of “fixing” it.

Now he sits beside Xingchen, jiggling his leg. Xiao Xingchen wants to ask him about his birth certificate, but he hadn't dared to last night, and doesn’t dare now.

“Ticket 9755, now being served at Window 26.”

“Weren’t you 9754?” he asks Xue Yang.

“Oh, crap—” Xue Yang jumps to his feet and rushes to Window 26, brushing past a mohawked man holding a ticket marked 9755. “I’m 9754.”

The woman behind the glass may as well have been carved from wood. “You missed your number.”

“There was no announcement!”

“Or your number isn’t working. It’s not showing up on my computer.”

“What the hell does that mean? I’m on the screen! Look!” Xue Yang jabs a finger at the screen above the booth. At the bottom of the list it reads Ticket 9754 – Window 26. “9754! Window 26! All you need to do is take my picture—”

“Get back in line. Get a new ticket. Window 13.”

“Get back in line?” He looks over at the line for Window 13. It wraps around the entire room. “I already have a number! I’m on the screen!”

“Back. In. Line.”

“Just take the damn photo—”

Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll get back in line.”

“Like hell we will! I’ve been here since 5 o’clock—I made an appointment! I even brought my own pen! You ever watch Monsters Inc.? You know Roz? Are you her evil older sister? Because you look exactly like—”

“Back of the line.”

“Younger sister, then. Happy?”

The woman doesn’t bother shrugging. “You’re blocking traffic.”

Xingchen begins to move, heading in the wrong direction. Xue Yang has no choice but to follow or else let him walk into a column plastered with posters emblazoned with, Make your visit easy - download the forms at dmv.gov! , Streamline your visit - make an appointment online today!, and We’re here to help!

“Let’s just go home,” says Xue Yang. “The gray, water stained walls are starting to close in. At any second I expect a giant ball to roll towards us. Well, wrong movie—whatever. I’m sick of this place. It’s cursed.”

“We’re just going to have to come back, and you’ll have wasted the hour we already spent here.”

Xue Yang groans and gets in line behind a woman with three small screaming children. “This whole thing is stupid. We can barely afford rent, let alone a car."

"We will, one day. Besides, it's good to have a license."

"We’ll just take trains and buses everywhere, or you can learn to drive. We'll fudge the vision test."

Xingchen laughs. Xue Yang relaxes slightly at the sound. After a moment, Xingchen slips his hand in his. He’s not one for public displays of affection, but there’s an edge in Xue Yang’s voice that has nothing to do with his return to Window 13.

Xue Yang’s hand tightens in his, and Xingchen rubs it reassuringly with his thumb.

“You again?” says the woman at Window 13 when they finally make it there, twenty minutes later.

“That power-mad dictator at Window 26 wouldn’t take my picture.”

The woman tilts her head at Xue Yang. “She wouldn’t?”

Xue Yang tilts his head back at her, as if to say, I know! Who wouldn’t want to photograph me ?

She smiles, a synthetic smile that reminds Xue Yang of his friend Lan Xichen’s dimpled little fiance. “Strange.”

“ ‘Strange’? I knew she could have just done it had she wanted to—”

The woman blinks at him, her smile growing faker by the minute. “I’m sure what she told you was accurate.”

“Sure, and there is no war in Ba-Sing-Se—”

Xiao Xingchen squeezes his hand, and Xue Yang stops talking and passes her his form. She stamps it a second time and hands him another ticket.

He and Xingchen return to the waiting area. Xue Yang puts his boots up on the seat next to him, resting his head on Xingchen’s shoulder.

“Describe the room to me again,” Xingchen says, trying to distract him from his brooding and, with any luck, keep him from taking out his Swiss army knife and carving his initials into the seat and get them kicked out again. Xue Yang has a talent for describing things, and Xingchen has been trying to encourage him to start writing.

Xue Yang begins to play with his long sleek ponytail. “Purgatory’s antechamber. Humanity’s lost-and-found. A void where time has no meaning. Pit of despair and industrial cleaner.”

Xingchen chuckles, making sure it’s loud enough for Xue Yang to hear.

“If their posters were honest, they’d all be in Comic Sans font, with things like, Where hope goes to die; This is your home now; Nothing escapes our pull, not even time; Human sacrifices while you wait—”

“Human sacrifices?”

"Yeah, I think so."

A crackle of static over the speaker as a new song comes on. “You know you love me, I know you care...Just shout whenever and I'll be there….”

Xue Yang starts up violently, but Xiao Xingchen gently pulls him back down beside him. “Some kind of cannibal conspiracy?” he asks, hoping Xue Yang’s knife has remained in his pocket and is not seconds away from being embedded in a blaring loudspeaker.

Xue Yang settles back against his shoulder. “I’m positive Overalls Guy never returned from Window 17. He’s probably in the office barbecue pit.”

“This must go all the way to the top. Shift supervisor too, I’d guess.”

“Baby, baby, baby oh….Like baby, baby, baby no….”

Xue Yang stops playing with his hair and starts picking at his black nail polish. He’s feeling a bit better, Xingchen’s shoulder warm and solid. “I swear that Roz lady put a curse on me. They all probably dance in a circle around a stack of burning Social Security cards every night, chanting.” He squirms, suddenly bored. “You got any more food? I’m starving.”

Xingchen rummages in his fanny pack. “Just a burned brownie.”

“I swear I set a timer!"

The timer had gone off while Xingchen was in the shower last night. Xue Yang had simply ignored it, too absorbed in trying to virtually blow up his twelve-year-old nemesis. He tends to ignore timers while cooking, usually followed by a mad rush to the kitchen to salvage dinner. “You know dinner is ready when the smoke detector goes off,” he likes to say.

Xue Yang sniffs the crumpled foil surrounding the charred black brownie chunk. “Is this the same foil I wrapped your tuna sandwich in yesterday?”

“We only have one earth!”

“Xingchen, I swear—” Xue Yang stops, rolling his eyes fondly. He’s never met anyone who can be so annoying and endearing at the same time.

Xingchen takes the brownie back. “I'll eat it. I like the burned bits.”

"It's all burned bits."

"Exactly. Perfect."

“She knows she's got me dazing, 'cause she was so amazin'....And now my heart is breakin', but I just keep on sayin'....”

“Who wrote this? I swear I won’t hurt them. I just want their address.”

Xingchen knows he shouldn’t laugh at that, but he can’t help it.

They sit there for another half hour, talking. Xue Yang has succeeded in denuding the nails of his left hand when his number is finally called. He gets his photo taken by a man with glazed eyes and no chin, and is shuffled off to the next waiting area.

“They refused to show me my photo,” he says as they settle back down. “I swear the camera stole my soul and is using it to power the fluorescent lights. I feel at peace now. Kind of floating.” He discovers a piece of gum in his jeans pocket and begins to loudly blow bubbles, making full eye contact with the annoyed Bluetooth Guy and irritated Woman With Facial Tattoo Of Bugs Bunny. “I am one with the DMV demigods, part of something larger than myself.”

“Like joining the army.”

“Or drowning in the ocean.” He lays down with his head in Xingchen’s lap, boots on the edge of Bluetooth Guy’s seat. “Why does your fanny pack smell like patchouli? Have you been burning weird hippie incense again? You promised you’d stop after you set fire to your curtains.”

Xingchen would rather Xue Yang didn’t semi-cuddle him in public, but Xue Yang’s energy is calmer when he’s touching Xingchen, and he lets him stay. “It’s that new candle you bought me, remember?”

“Right. Bought you.”

“What do you—”

“I thought it was peppermint.”

Xingchen bites his lip. Xue Yang is…well, he can read well enough to pass a driving test, but his education was…slipshod at best. Next on Xingchen’s list is encouraging Xue Yang to get his GED.

“You smell like a music festival,” says Xue Yang. “I must have grabbed the wrong one in the store. I sniffed all of them. My picture is probably hanging beside the register of every Bath & Body Works in town: ‘Beware the Candle Perv’—”

“At least someone was willing to take your picture.”

Xue Yang laughs. Xingchen rests a hand on his chest, heedless of the people around them. He likes how Xue Yang feels when he laughs, his whole body shaking, making no attempt to hide his feelings. Xue Yang makes him laugh so often, it’s a special joy for him to return the favor.

They’ve been there almost two and a half hours when Xue Yang’s number is finally called. As if the DMV curse is kicking in again, the loudspeakers creep up another few decibels.

“Like baby, baby, baby no, like baby, baby, baby oh, thought you'd always be mine, mine….”

“Xue Yang—” Xingchen starts before Xue Yang can say anything.

“I know, I know. This is penance for my putting that egg in Song Lan’s shoe last week. The DMV knows all. The DMV was here before us, and will be here after we are gone. The DMV—”

“—The DMV will make us wait in line again, if we don’t hurry.”

Together they go to Window 10, where a drab little man sifts through Xue Yang’s documents. “Fifties, balding, completely dead inside,” Xue Yang whispers to Xingchen.

“I’m thirty-nine,” says the man in a monotone, not looking up, “and you’re missing a birth certificate. And what’s this stain on your Social Security card?”

“Definitely not blood.”

The man stares at him with eyes that, had his life force not already been sucked out of Xue Yang by an afternoon at the DMV, would have done the job. “Current passport, or birth certificate.”

Xue Yang hesitates, then slips a folded piece of pink paper under the glass partition.

The man unfolds it with the sterling speed of a drugged snail and spreads it over the counter. He lines up Xue Yang’s Social Security card, bank statement, and birth certificate, and examines them line by line as if he’s a Bletchley Circle analyst and Xue Yang’s documents are intercepted enemy transmissions.

He looks up at Xue Yang. “Is this a valid birth certificate? There are no parent names listed, and the date of birth has an asterisk—”

“I know what it has!”

“What’s your date of birth?” The man slowly pushes his chair back. “I’m going to have to get a supervisor—”

Xue Yang slams the counter. Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. It’s a miracle Xue Yang’s knife isn’t out. “Don’t you fucking dare! This is what they do when—just Google it, okay? I don’t know what day I was born, they just put whatever date they thought was accurate—”

Xingchen swallows hard.

He had known Xue Yang had grown up in foster care, but had assumed he had been given up by his parents as a child when they could no longer take care of him.

Not—not abandoned as an infant—

“And change the fucking station!” Xue Yang adds. “If I have to hear that stupid fucking song one more time I will go fucking berserk —”

The man’s dead-eyed stare intensifies. “Sign here,” he says after a moment, pushing a slip of paper at Xue Yang.

“You want my love, you want my heart….And we will never, ever, ever be apart…”

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Xingchen asks as they step outside. The words sound hollow, and he wishes he had simply remained silent.

Xue Yang takes a deep breath. It’s almost cool out, a welcome change from the week’s heat. “Well, we escaped. Now we just have to get help for the others. Or do we abandon them to their fates? I vote we abandon them. You should have seen some of the looks I got. It’s like they never saw someone threaten a DMV employee before, something I’m willing to bet happens a dozen times an hour.”

Xingchen takes his arm as he begins to walk. It’s easier than using his stick in the crowded city. “Xue Yang…”

Xue Yang’s muscles tense beneath his arm. “What?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lip. He’ll have Xue Yang feeling better soon enough. “What street are we on? Turn in on 33rd.”

“What’s on 33rd?”

“Just let me know when we’re there. 33rd and 7th.”

“The train’s on 36th.”

“But the restaurant’s on 33rd.”

“The what?”

Xingchen wants to smile, but is afraid Xue Yang might take it the wrong way after what happened at the DMV. For someone who does his best to project an I-don’t-care attitude, Xue Yang is surprisingly sensitive.

“What’s today’s date?” He already knows the date, of course. It’s been on his mind for weeks now.

Xue Yang’s arm grows even stiffer. “Is this a ‘you-don’t-know-when-your-birthday-is-so-every-day-is-your-birthday’ thing? Because—”

“Not at all… Remember the day we met? You made fun of my shirt—”

Xue Yang frowns at this sudden change of subject, but goes along with it. Better than talking about that damn birth certificate. “It was white, and ruffled. You looked like an escapee from a high school production of Hamlet. What was I supposed to do?”

“You crashed a motorcycle not three feet from me. An unregistered motorcycle with stolen plates.”

"I bought you coffee to make up for it, didn’t I?”

“You had them put four sugars in my cappuccino. It was undrinkable.”

“One was a Splenda, and anyway I took you to dinner to make up for the coffee, didn’t I?”

“Pizza at one of those dollar-a-slice places you have to stand at a counter to eat. I paid for it.”

“And I paid for your kombucha, whatever the heck that is.”

“And I paid for the band-aids we had to go buy after you cut yourself after playing catch with your knife.”

“You were distracting me!”

“I was quietly eating my pizza.”

“The light reflecting off your shirt ruffles got in my eyes.”

“Four dollars for the band-aids. You insisted on Hello Kitty.”

“Spongebob was also on the table." He wrinkles his nose. "I've got about three-fifty in my pocket, if you want it. But what’s your point, exactly?'

Xingchen smiles. He enjoys winding up Xue Yang, and it’s by far the most effective way to distract him when he’s in a dark mood. “Just that you better not put extra sugar in the fondue.”

“The what?”

“A-Qing read me the dessert menu. Chocolate fondue with bananas, blueberries, pineapple, and cherries. Strawberries, too, I think, and marshmallows, maybe even non-charred brownies—”

Xue Yang stops walking. “Xingchen—”

Xingchen lets go of Xue Yang’s arm, takes his hand instead. Kisses him soundly, right there on Sixth Avenue.

“Forget your birthday," he says. "We have a new date to celebrate every year." He gives Xue Yang's hand a little squeeze and kisses him again. “Happy anniversary, Xue Yang.”

Liked it? AO3 👉👈

Ruffle shirt reference

Obviously, Xue Yang was simply distracted by how pretty Xingchen was.

#xue yang #xiao xingchen #xuexiao #mdzsnet #I finally write something not cursed that I can put in the tag!#uttterly plotless fluff #cql #the untamed #untameddaily

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r0zez-in-bl00m · 3 years

Text

~ 𝓒𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 ~

Chaotic parents

🦇Lilia Vanrouge x fem!reader, WORD COUNT : : 2K

Description- Lilia's wife comes for a visit but leaves a trail of destruction behind.

Placed under the cut for length!

It was yet another quiet day at the dormitory founded on the elegance of the fairy of thorns. The morning was greeted by Sebek and Silver’s bickering about whose training routine was better while Silver occasionally dozed off leaving Sebek to jerk him awake every single time with his thunderous voice. The dorm leader of Diasomania, Malleus, stared out of the window in the common room, finding the outside world much more interesting than the leather stiff book he had read a countless number of times or the ongoing talk across the room.

Yes, it was indeed another normal, boring day for the residents of Diasomania. Well, far too normal.

The one-sided quarrel between Sebek and Silver ended abruptly when the sound of an explosion came from the kitchens (did they even have that?), breaking the second-year’s slumber instantly as he looked around quizzically. “WHAT WAS THAT?!?!” Sebek thundered, the obvious surprise plastered on his face as he faced Silver. The second-year shrugged his shoulders as a response as he removed Sebek’s hand on his dorm uniform. “Maybe the old man is in the kitchen again,” Silver said, staring at the hallway to the kitchen worryingly.

Silver knew how experimental his father was in the field of culinary arts. The variety of weird, foul-smelling dishes he had tasted (and dreaded) as a little child was a prime example of it. As the knight had feared, not soon after, Lilia stepped into the common room, his clothes a little burnt, face covered in soot, with a burnt dish in his hands. “Oh my, this stew took longer than I had anticipated!” He said as he dried the non-existent sweat off his brow. Sebek retracted the moment the blasted dish’s smell reached his nose. That dish could barely be categorized as food, let alone be eaten under normal circumstances. Was the dressing covered in slime and worms?

“I-I see . . . it’s an excellent looking dish, Lord Lilia!” Sebek complimented, but his reaction betrayed his words greatly. “May I ask which stew is it?”

‘Better not ask if you don’t want to be the first victim Sebek,’ Silver thought but refrained from speaking it out loud. Sebek was always too fond of his seniors. The old fae, on the other hand, seemed giddy and unusually excited to tell Sebek about his extra special dish. “Well, it’s my specialty dish which I only make on the rarest of occasions, and mind you it’s really hard to persuade me to make this dish even if you ask a million times,” Lilia giggled while continuously shoving the otherworldly stew at Poor Sebek’s face.

Who would be in their right mind to actually persuade Lilia Vanrouge, the most horrible cook humanity has ever seen?

Lilia’s body shivered from giggling as Sebek guessed various stew names he had known. In defeat, Lilia finally disclosed the name, “It’s my legendary ‘slimy beef casserole’!!”

Silver almost choked at the name of the dish alone when he thought he was about to doze off again, finding it hard to breathe as he stared at Lilia as if he had grown another head.

Malleus, from his window, had his ears perked up as well at the unusual excitement. “Beef-Tomato stew?” Malleus questioned, “Don’t you usually make it for-”

POOF!

Before he could finish a puff of green smoke encircled the room completely. Silver’s dread turned horrendous as his aurora eyes traveled up to see the person coming out of the clearing green fog.

Those (e/c) eyes, that hair tied in a ponytail, and the familiar scent of raspberries. Hauling the heavy travel bag in her hand, the apparently young-looking girl smiled brightly and exclaimed brightly, “Family reunion!!” tackling Lilia to the ground, eliciting a chuckle from the latter. All the while Silver pinched the bridge of his nose in worry.

Indeed, it was going to be a long day.

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

“All I had heard that it was a famous school for kids with magic, but I didn’t know that its campus was this big!!!” His mother chirped happily, skirting around here and there like a newborn baby bird. It had taken everything for Silver to not sink and die. To actually think that his own mother would show up at the school where he and his father were studying, and in summer clothes on top of that. That tank top concealed under a modest button-up shirt wasn’t doing her any favor. He had to persuade his stubborn mother to wear something modest enough to not get any weird glances.

Aside from Silver’s anxiety and protectiveness towards his mother, Lilia was extremely ecstatic.

“My sweet, you hadn’t mentioned that you had taken a trip to the southern islands in your recent letters,” Lilia said, strolling side by side with his beloved, arms linked and fingers intertwined. “Judging by your complexion you sure had a great time!”

(Name) giggled, “Of course, unlike you who would turn into a mummy just after an hour under the sun, I am always up for a swim on a hot summer beach and getting a tan!” She rolled up her sleeves and showed her changed skin color with pride, a smirk adorning her adorable visage.

Silver sheepishly scratched his head, “So, what made you come for a visit mom?” It’s not like he wasn’t happy, of course, no child could ever be sad to see their mother after a long time, but the question was- why now?

(Name) shuddered at the question, as if it was something too painful to talk about. Nonetheless, she shared her part of the story. “Staying in the Valley of thorns with nothing to do but tric⸺ I mean, play with neighbors was getting tooooo boring.” She said, twirling around in her summer dress, “That was when Sebek’s mum suggested me to go on a trip like old times! Gosh, I had missed the sights! But, traveling with my sugar daddy was much more fun, and I kind of started to miss⸺”

Silver’s eyes widened like two satellite dishes as he subconsciously cut of his mother, “Sugar what?”

He heard his father laugh heartily, smacking his arm slightly as if it was normal, “I told her to call me that, cool right?” Lilia asked, his lips occasionally curving upwards. Silver didn’t know what to do in this awkward situation. It was getting hard to keep a poker face when his cheeks were getting redder by the goddamn second. Unlike him, Malleus and Sebek were not even a little fazed by this.

“Nowadays people call their partners with such flowery nicknames,” (name) curiously reminiscence the one time she had heard someone calling their lovers in an odd fashion while at the beach. “Uh! Time flies by.”

Lilia chuckled at his beloved’s innocence, “Sweetheart, it’s good and all that you are learning new things and accepting the changing times, but” he gestured to Silver’s tomato face amusingly. “Other students will notice us, look, even our son is getting all embarrassed even after hearing our romantic exchanges a million times.”

Sebek, initially confused about what the great seven was happening, seeing his fellow guard show vulnerability, screamed at full-throttle, “SILVER!! Be ashamed of yourself!! It’s unbecoming of Young Master’s escort to show his blushing face in public!!!!”

Silver held the bridge of his nose for the umpteenth time. “No one hadn’t even noticed until you brought it up for everyone to hear.” He pointed out to the two first-year students who were curiously eyeing the Diasomania group, only to scramble away laughing when Silver had noticed them.

Pushing all the hue and cry away, the prince of thorns conversed with Mrs. Vanrouge, his eyes glimmering with child-like fondness. “How has everything been in the Valley of thorns, (name)? Well, I presume?” His questions were cute just like his expressions!

The female couldn’t help but smile giddily, “My Prince, it hasn’t been long since your last visit to the land. What more could change in a few months’ time?”

The old fae nudged the prince’s arm a little. “You know Malleus, sweet. Always insatiably curious, this young lad,” Lilia added, earning a glare from the dorm leader. Before he could retort and start one of his ‘I’m not a child’ monologues, (name) asked– “Where are Silver and Sebek?” The other two fairies looked behind them and found the two of them vanished from sight.

“They must have stopped because of their argument again, those two.”

“I’ll go look for them if you’d like,” Malleus offered, but the old man shook it off. “Knowing those two, it’s better if I come too, just in case Sebek takes it to arms and marches on to war,” Lilia said. “(name), could you please wait a minute over here?”

As if she was a child who needed parental consent, (name) pouted at the irritating behavior of her husband only to earn a million mandol smile in return. The promise of getting back in less than a minute had triggered a few options in the female’s mind, none of them were in goodwill. Would she actually be Mrs. Vanrouge if not as much of a trickster as her husband?

A devilish smirk appeared as soon as the duo’s backs disappeared from her sight. Cracking the knuckles of her hands, she gazed around the vacant vicinity.

“Sooooooooo, what to do next?”

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

The half-silent walk towards the rendezvous point was broken when Lilia had opened up his mouth to speak- “It’s good that the two of you didn’t wander off too much, it would’ve been far too much troubling to search the entire school.”

“I DEEPLY APOLOGISE LORD LILIA!!” Sebek pleaded, or more like screamed for mercy, “If Silver hadn’t fallen asleep, we would’ve come back sooner.”

“And we wouldn’t have become lost,” Silver added apologetically. “It’s alright, it was all in goodwill and we found you in time before dinner,” Malleus reassured. Sebek seemed to calm down at his lord’s words but nonetheless continued to rant and reprimand himself for being an incompetent vassal and what not.

But it stopped the moment all of them found (name) to be missing. “Didn’t we leave (name) here?” Malleus asked, confused as to where she could’ve gone. “My little honey drop likes to play hide and seek a lot, surely she mustn’t have gone too far!” Lilia reasoned but internally dreaded inside. Something of a horrible memory was coming back to him but he couldn’t place his finger on it . . . .

“Father,” Silvers said, serious, “We need to find Mom before she gets herself into trouble.”

“Yes, Silver is absolutely correct, or have you forgotten what happened during the Queen’s birthday?” Lilia’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shaped as the realization dawned over him. “Right! How could I forget?” (name) had planted a party bomb inside the cake that it exploded and its contents spilled everywhere. It wasn’t that big of a prank but the look the Queen had thrown afterward spoke volumes.

“In that case, the sooner we find her, the better it will be.” At that, the group again moves out to search, the expectancy to loads of trouble ahead humming in their minds.

On the other side, many weird occurrences happened at NRC that day. Students found the cafeteria benches levitating in the air with Rosehearts screaming ‘OFF WITH YOUR HEAD’ at the anonymous person who had hanged him from the ceiling. The Lion of Savannah was in a sour mood all day after it took him 2 hours to remove all the girlish accessories which had magically adorned his hair and chased Ruggie to have the evidence removed from existence. The ever-charismatic Vil Schoenheit seemed to have wanted to pop a blood vessel in his body after finding that someone had let Heartslaybul’s Flamingos loose in the dormitory. The clean-up in itself was a big task, the aftermath even more terrible.

All the while (Name) treated herself to some roasted marshmallows (courtesy of the cafeteria ghosts who mistook her for a child). The female never quite understood why her husband detested such a delectable snack. At the thought of Lilia, she wondered if he was looking for her while she was creating chaos in the school. She giggled at the illustration of his panicked face came to her mind.

Leaving the train of thoughts, she turned her focus back on chomping down the white snack. “Oh, a child has wandered into the campus?” a suspicious voice came from behind her, a shadow looming over her and blocking the sunlight. (Name) immediately turned to see a man with a bird mask glowering from above. The female wanted to scoff at the impudence of the idiot in front of her. Child? She was even older than the ancestry line of the top hat he was wearing. But, still feeling a little devilish, she decided to go with the flow. The headmaster crouched down in front of her, “Are you lost?”

“KIDNAPPER!!!!!!!!” The scream was so hard that it had rendered his hearing senses, which was a first for him given that he had already heard a different variety of screams. “My, dear child you have a loud voice!” Crowley held his head, still trying to shake off the effect, “and I’m not a kidnapper. I may appear suspicious but I’m a very generous person and the headmaster of this school!”

Even more, fun to trick you then.

“Oh really! Then prove it, Mister Crow!” she said faux excitedly.

Crowley cleared his throat, finding the nickname to be cute, “Alright, Alright! How about some ice cream and a little tour of the school?” The female’s mouth immediately watered at the word ‘ice cream’. She nodded vigorously in approval. Suddenly, she felt glad that she came to visit. Having a delicious treat on top of that a good laugh was like icing on a cake. Maybe she could demand a cake too.

“Headmaster Crowley!! Right on time!”

Oh damn.

She dreaded what was about to come next. The sight of her beloved husband with a teasing smile on his face poured water all over her future plans! Goodbye ice-cream.

“Everything has been upside down today . . . . oh, who’s this?” curse his impeccable question ‘who’s this?’

“This is a child I found roaming the gardens,” Crowley explained. “And by what do you specifically mean by ‘upside down’, Vanrouge?”

“You’re requested in the cafeteria, there you might get what you need, for the time being, I can look over after the child,” The damned fae knew what he was doing and was enjoying every bit of it! He smiled, showing more teeth than required, his magenta orbs glowing, “We will have lots of fun, won’t we little one?” It sent shivers down her spine and marked as the queue that she had overstayed her visit and best be off now.

With a puff of smoke, she vanished into sight, leaving the headmaster confused as the green air cleared. “What just happened Vanrouge?”

Lilia smiled peacefully, exhaling a sigh of relief, and said, “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

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

“Father, you’re going to mail the stew?”

“Yes! She came for a visit but forgot her favorite dish. I hope that the Thorn delivery service can handle the stew, the worms bite a lot.”

#twst imagines #cruel to be kind #lilia vanrouge #disney #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland #silver #diasomania #twst lilia

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muselexum · 3 years

Text

CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYAL

PORTGAS D. ACE - FIRE FIST ACE - WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

His post-timeskip AU is his main verse.

When Akainu went to attack Luffy, Ace stepped in at the last second to shove Luffy out of the way. While Ace didn’t suffer a direct hit through his chest, magma still made contact with his back thus severely burning his skin, muscle tissue, destroying his Whitebeard mark, and injuring his spine.

His crew stepped in as fast as they could to defend the brothers, and Ace was carried off to Law’s submarine alongside Luffy. He slipped into a coma which lasted close to two months and when he awoke he was bed-ridden, disoriented, and separated from his brother and crew. He kept asking for information on what had happened, to which the Heart Pirates finally told him that Whitebeard had died at Marineford.

Ace survived, but at the cost of Whitebeard giving his life protecting his sons to the very end. Whitebeard dying in a war that was started because of him was Ace’s worst nightmare, and he carried the guilt of that as he self-exiled from his crew. Where he was once eager to return to them, he was now ashamed about his continued failures and felt he didn’t deserve to see them again until he made things right.

Ace was devastated, but his physical injuries were so severe that he could not do anything about it even if he wanted to. To add to this guilt and feeling of helplessness, one day through newspapers he learned of the Payback War that essentially wiped out the rest of his crewmates. Guilt and helplessness turned into furious resolve as he made the decision to hunt down and see Blackbeard killed by any means necessary.

Close to two years after Marineford, Ace was finally able to travel on his own again. It was to his shock when he heard about the rising officer in the Revolutionary Army who became the Chief of Staff. Determined to confirm it for himself, Ace made contact with the Revolutionary Army and reunited with his long lost brother Sabo. The two are very close now and keep in touch, both looking out for Luffy and ready to step in if they’re ever needed.

To the rest of the world, Ace’s status is a big question mark. He has not been seen in the public eye since his intended execution and there is debate on whether he survived that day or not. Even many of his former crewmates are unsure. There are a select few that know for certain he is alive like the Heart Pirates, members of the Revolutionary Army, and Luffy who has it confirmed by Law, Robin, and Sabo on different occasions.

PLEASE NOTE: Due to Ace being alive, the fruit Doflamingo presented in Dressrosa was either a SMILE or a different devil fruit entirely. Due to Luffy and Sabo knowing he is alive, their circumstances for being in the fights would be different, though I will leave the details up to you. Sabo would still need to participate in the tournament as he knows the factory is beneath the colosseum.

[ BASIC INFO ]

NAME: Portgas D. Ace

EPITHET: Fire Fist Ace

GENDER: Male

AGE: 22 (post-timeskip)

IDENTIFIED ORIENTATION: Graysexual, Heteromantic

BIRTHDAY: January 1st

ZODIAC: Capricorn

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

AFFILIATIONS: Whitebeard Pirates (former)

BIRTHPLACE: South Blue, Baterilla

CURRENT BOUNTY: 1, 000, 000, 000 Beli

DEVIL FRUIT: Mera Mera no Mi

[ APPEARANCE ]

HEIGHT: 6'8" / 193cm (post-timeskip headcanon)

BODY TYPE: Broad-shouldered, “inverted triangle”, muscular

HAIR COLOUR/TYPE: Brunet, wavy, almost shoulder-length

EYE COLOUR: Honey-brown

SKIN TONE: Sun-kissed

NOTABLE FEATURES: The freckles adorning his face, the massive scar on his back though often hidden

STYLE: During his travels Ace wears a heavy cloak that covers his torso and a plain brown leather hat similar to his former orange one. His hair has grown out a bit and can be put into a little ponytail. Click [here] or [here] for a general idea.

[ PERSONALITY ]

TRAITS ->

POSITIVE: Loyal, protective, fun-loving, polite

NEUTRAL: Sentimental, predictable, self-sacrificing

NEGATIVE: Reckless, short-tempered, explosive, vengeful

INTELLIGENCES ->

Bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, spatial

SUMMARY ->

Ace tends to come off as very intimidating at first glance, yet when he is approached he is overall a very polite and friendly individual. He has a general care for others even if he may not know them, especially children, as he is seen allowing kids to eat his food before wanting to go off and find them dessert on top of it.

After the loss of Whitebeard and the rest of his crew, Ace has become quite a bit more solemn on his outlook on life, but otherwise retains his kind demeanor with others. He does not laugh as much anymore, but there are rare moments where he is able to forget more negative thoughts.

Before he met Sabo and Luffy, Ace’s childhood was rife with rage and self-loathing. He grew up in the mountains with Dadan and her crew of bandits who provided the very basics, but he was otherwise left to raise and care for himself.

He was a very rough child. He knew he was the son of Gol D. Roger, and thus took all the terrible things he heard people say about the Pirate King and projected it onto himself. If his father was a demon, what was he? What helped change him was his relationship with Sabo and Luffy, who over time became like brothers to him. When Sabo was presumed dead, it was the first time Ace felt the loss of a loved one and grew even more protective of his loved ones that day onward.

Ace first set sail at the age of 17. It was not long after when he became stranded on a deserted island and encountered who would eventually become his first mate, Deuce. It was on this island that he also gained the abilities of the Mera Mera no Mi. The two faced some conflicts, but it concluded with the creation of Ace’s boat Striker that helped get them off the island.

From that event onward, Ace started building the Spade Pirates. His sole goal was to challenge Whitebeard and take his head, and thus turned down otherwise impressive offers like becoming the youngest ever Pirate Warlord. Ace loathed that Roger’s name hung over his head, so his way of breaking free from those chains would be to overcome the opponent who even Roger could never defeat. If Ace could kill Whitebeard and become Pirate King, it would prove to himself that he was more than Roger.

Very soon after entering the New World, the Spade Pirates were overwhelmed by Jinbei and subsequently Whitebeard, who had heard of the rising rookie that wanted to take his head. The emperor proved to be too much for Ace, yet instead of killing him, Whitebeard saw something special in Ace and asked him to become his son. Ace fell unconscious after the fight and was taken aboard the Moby Dick along with his crewmates.

Ace made continued attempts to take Whitebeard’s head while on the ship, all to no avail. His persistence eventually waned and he felt hopeless. It was one evening, with the kind words of Marco, that Ace made the decision to willingly become a son of Whitebeard.

Ace bore Whitebeard’s mark proudly on his back and grew to respect him more than anyone else. The self-loathing he felt for being the son of Roger would wane away as he finally found a father he could look up to.

[ ONE PIECE - MAIN ]

#ACE ( VERSE: survivor’s guilt )

Ace survived Marineford, but at what cost? All he feels he has left to do is to kill Blackbeard by any means possible. He cannot rest until Blackbeard is six feet under.

#ACE ( VERSE: before disaster struck )

Taking place within the canon timeline, Ace is the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. He appears much more laidback here, still unknowing of the cataclysmic war ahead. This verse can range anywhere from his time on the Moby Dick to his search for Blackbeard after his betrayal.

#ACE ( VERSE: spades )

Age ranging from seventeen to nineteen, in this verse Ace is the captain of the Spade pirates and a rising super rookie. Powerful, ambitious, and reckless, Ace sets off to take Whitebeard’s head.

#ACE ( VERSE: problem child )

Ace is a young child, his age varies depending on the thread which in turn largely affects his behaviour and personality.

[ ONE PIECE - AU ]

#ACE ( VERSE: family matters )

After Ace’s survival, he fell into a coma and subsequently spent many months rehabilitating his body after he awoke from it. It was only after the Payback war that he could bring himself to go out and search for his family.

It was to his shock when he learned that Akane was on Sphinx with their son, and he made a beeline for the island to see the truth for himself. [read more]

Ace’s full tag list can be found [here]. You can choose to block specific tags, or block his general tag to avoid his content entirely.

#FOR ALL ( ooc. )#FOR ALL ( muse profiles. )#ACE ( general tag. )

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moonctzeny · 4 years

Text

The Bet

au+trope+prompt game: coffee shop!au Mark + enemies to lovers + is that the best you can do?

pairing: mark lee + fem!reader

other members as background characters: lucas

genre: fluff (only some suggestive stuff)

word count: 3,796

warnings: slight objectification of reader, suggestive stuff, heavy making out, a boner, i guess a stockings kink

summary: “When you took that part time job as a barista at your local café, you only cared about grabbing your check while doing the least work possible. But when your supervisor, Mark Lee, keeps getting praised and winning ‘Employee Of The Month’, you offer a bet, to prove him that he’s no better than you. The outcome? Your relationship changing forever.”

a/n: hbd baby <3

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It started off as just a little part time job.

College life was not easy to cope with financially, and eating instant noodles for a week straight could only save you so much money. So when you saw the ‘Barista Wanted’ sign at the cafe that was just a block away from your house, you didn’t miss your chance for a few extra bucks. And that’s all that job would be for you. Doing the least work possible for the minimum wage you were given, if it wasn’t for him. Mark Lee.

Mark was sweet, honestly. He greeted you with a smile when you first came in and showed you around. He was a bit shy when he awkwardly stated that he was kind of like a supervisor there. But the way that the boss would go on and on about how great he was, every Monday morning, was starting to get annoying. So was his ability to always save your ass whenever you made a mess in front of your boss. So was his picture hanging in the “Employee Of The Month” frame right from across the bar. That kid won that title every.single.month. And no overtimes, sweeping or mopping from your part seemed to change your boss’s mind.

It all began when you and Lucas, another part-time worker whose shift started right after yours, were talking about whether you would make rent this month. Mark was sitting next to you, occupied with organizing some cups by size, but decided to chip in.

“Well”, he sighed “guess we’re just gonna have to eat the rich. Or take that pole dancing class you mentioned, Lucas.”

The taller boy found it funny, letting out his signature giggle and you would too, if Mark’s damn “Employee of the Month” picture wasn’t staring right into your soul, mocking you.

You rolled your eyes. “Not all of us are lucky enough to get that sweet I-love-kissing-the-boss’s-ass bonus every month, Lee”. Lucas whistled at your comment, used to your bickering but still very entertained.

“Careful how you speak to your supervisor, y/n or you’ll never get to be employee of the month”.

“Oh please”, you scoff “having extra keys to the back exit and cleaning the coffee machine twice a week? That’s wayyy too much responsibility”.

Sarcasm was dripping from your voice, but you were only half lying. You didn’t give a flying fuck for the position. You just wanted it because he had it. And that certain “he” was starting to get a little tired from your constant degradation. Mark smirked at you, but anger was evident on his expression.

“You should be thanking me, you know. At least you get to mooch off of my tips”.

Lucas yelled a drawn out “ooohhh” but you could barely hear him. Your eyes were piercing Mark’s, too busy keeping yourself from blurting out every profanity that came to your head in that moment. Instead, you took a deep breath.

“You think you make more tips than me?”, you asked calmly. Cockier than ever, the boy instantly replies with a “I know I do”, never breaking eye contact. This was your chance, you thought. The chance to prove yourself and shut him up for good.

“How about we make a little bet?”

Mark raised his bow-shaped brows, focusing his attention solely on you.

“Let’s put separate tip jars next to the cashing machine for the rest of the week. If I make more, you’ll convince the boss to remove that horrible frame for good”. He followed your eyes to his picture on the wall, and nodded.

“And when I win?”, he asked curiously and you chose to ignore his little play on words. You furrowed your brows, trying to think of a good motivation for him, as if his competitive nature wasn’t enough.

“OH! OH!” Lucas interrupted, “she can go on a date with that creepy friend of yours that always comes to the cafe to see her!”

Mark’s eyes instantly lit up at the idea. He handed out his pinky, looking to seal the deal with you.

“Bet’s on”, he said, with a seriousness that looked foreign on his cute features, and motioned to his pinky with his eyes, urging you to intertwine it with yours.

You sighed and walked away, muttering a “God, you are so lame”, but the next morning you came to work with a jar with your name written all pretty on it.

You didn’t really have a strategy per se. In fact, you had completely forgotten about the bet, too busy preparing orders and running around. You were cleaning up for Lucas to take your place in the shift, when you felt Mark looking down at you from the other side of the counter that usually separated you from the costumers. “May I be of help, sir?”, you asked him mockingly, not bothering to spare him a glance.

“You should wear those white thigh highs. You look cute in them.”

“Huh? What?”, you ask in confusion, still cleaning the surface carefully.

“In your date with Jason”, he explained with a teasing tone in his voice, Jason being his ‘creepy friend’ as Lucas calls him. Why did he have to piss you off right when you were ready to go home?

You continued to ignore him, only muttering a “I’m not going on that date”, when you hear a clinging sound and finally look up at Mark.

“You sure?”

He was holding the two tip jars, swinging them around. To your horror, Mark’s had more than twice the money than yours.

“WHAT??” you let out and immediately regretted it when some costumers looked at you like you were crazy. You continued with a whispered yell, “How the fuck did that happen??”

Mark grinned at you and lifted his shoulders innocently, before walking away. He must have cheated by slipping in coins when you weren’t looking, that sly motherfucker.

That’s it, you decided, on Wednesday you were going to spy on his every move.

After watching him intently for the whole morning, you came to the conclusion that Mark had a way of making everybody like him. Whether it was him memorizing the regulars and their orders, or asking them if they knew some random Will Smith song about Miami, he was always the textbook example of an eager, smiley and pleasant barista. Even you smiled at the sight of him fumbling with the pen when two pretty girls gave him their names to write on the coffee cups. He flashed them a smile and mumbled an apology, and you watched as they cooed at him and left a very generous tip. You were almost convinced by his adorable act, when he turned around and winked your way.

Ugh, you hated Mark Lee.

You decided that making a better connection with the customers was the way to go. You weren’t the type to start a conversation about the weather out of the blue, nor did you know any Will Smith songs, so you decided on drawing a little doodle on the cup next to their names with every order. The younger ones thought it was a nice addition to their snapchat story, the older ones found you cute. And as they came back for a coffee refill, your jar started filling up as well. It wasn’t much but you were getting closer to reaching the 3/4 of Mark’s tips, so you were pretty happy with yourself.

You were drawing a little heart for a latte when you smelled his cologne. You felt his breath pushing away at the hairs that were sticking out from your ponytail at the nape of your neck. You hated how it sent a shiver to your spine, how it made your hands a little shaky and how the heart drawing turned out a little wonky.

Mark was your “enemy” and your supervisor and Mr. Annoyingly Perfect but Mark was also hot. You would never admit it, but you even had a little crush on him when you started working there. You might pull a disgusted face every time Lucas tells you that the solution to your constant bickering was to “just fuck already”, but you wondered whether it was his oblivion to your crush that made your little hatred towards him grow. And you’d be lying if you said that you never stared at his cute ass sticking out of his apron a second too long, or that it didn’t turn you on when he got pissed at the ice getting stuck in the blender.

So now that he was almost pressing against you from behind, closer than ever, you wouldn’t mind at all. That is if he didn’t open his god damn mouth.

“Really?”, he scoffed “Is that the best you can do?”

His tone was so condescending that it made you furious, pressing your nails in the paper cup, and you were surprised that the liquid didn’t spill everywhere. He gave you a victorious smirk from getting that reaction out of you, and you wanted to punch it right off of his face.

Oh, that meant war.

On Thursday morning, you walked in looking the best you’ve ever looked for a morning shift. You had your hair in pigtails, hair bands matching the color of your lowcut dress. Your lengthened the straps of your apron, your cleavage not leaving much to the imagination.

It was ridiculous, you thought, how many tips a push up bra can get you. It only took a couple customers for the word to spread and the horny men to line up at the cafe. You batted your eyelashes at them, the “Good morning, I’m here to serve you, how can I help you sir?”driving them nuts. You had to say it every time, shop’s policy, but now it sounded more suggestive than ever. You were disgusted by their gawking eyes and terrible attempts at flirting, but you had a goal.

And hell were you winning. You weren’t sure if it was your jar that was filling up at an amazing rate or your outfit, but that was the first time you ever saw Mark make a mistake in his orders. You swore you felt his gaze following you around all day, murmuring something to himself every time a customer asked him if the pretty girl could serve them instead.

It was the end of the shift, and you were happily chatting with Lucas as you were cleaning up the counter. He was doing a terrible job at keeping his eyes away from your chest, but when it came to someone as good looking as him, you really didn’t mind the attention. You took your apron off and started folding it neatly when Mark took your wrist and dragged you into the storage room.

He held a bunch of wrinkly paper towels in his hands. You noticed something was written with a pen messily on each of them.

“This is the seventh phone number that a dude has given me today”, he told you as he stared into your eyes, careful not to move his gaze any more south. It was your turn to mess with him.

“Well good for you”, you said with a smile, “Didn’t know you were so popular with men, Mark”

He closed his eyes, trying to control his temper, and shoved the towels towards you.

“They’re for you. They asked me to pass them to you. After the third guy I forgot what their names were but you can figure them out yourself”. You took them from him with a quiet “oh, thanks” and he sighed.

“You can’t come in here looking like that. This is a workplace.”

You looked at him with wide eyes and fake innocence. “Like what? What’s wrong with my outfit?”. His patience was running short.

“Why don’t you ask Lucas” he replied, with a tone that started to piss you off.

“If you can’t control your hormones like you’re some teenage boys, that’s not my prob-“ you start but he cuts you off. You had never seen him act so stern.

“We have a dress code. Maybe the boss can remind you, if you want”.

It was the first time Mark had actually pulled the supervisor card on you and you felt a little hurt by the coldness of his voice. You swear you saw a bit of instant regret in his eyes but you decided to leave the matter alone, and left the storage room after ostentatiously throwing the phone numbers in the bin next to the door.

Friday was the last day of the bet. You didn’t show up with a flashy outfit, because 1) you didn’t want to risk losing your job for a stupid bet and 2) because straight men were annoying and so were their pickup lines that you didn’t want to deal with. You did wear the white thigh highs Mark mentioned though, with a skirt whose length followed the dress code, just to tease him a little bit. You had never worn them in work before, but when you ran across Mark one day on your way home from a girls’ night out, both a little drunk and disoriented, he didn’t hide his admiration towards them.

He noticed right away when you walked in the café this afternoon. Fridays were the only days when you took the later shift instead of the morning one. You hated it because that meant having to work with Mark until closing, and due to his perfectionism you’d always be staying with him overtime, cleaning every inch of the place, and never participating in any Friday parties that your friends hosted.

You were a little worried that things would be awkward between you after your little argument yesterday, but when he pointed at your stockings and asked if you were “dressed up for the date already”, you knew he didn’t keep any hard feelings and neither did you. What you didn’t expect was his jar to be as full as yours, if not more.

You panicked, and took Lucas to the side, making him promise that he would tell you if he had cheated while you were gone or not. He shrugged.

“Sorry, pretty, no cheating. A high school visited the park across the street as a field trip. The girls went crazy over him. Pretty sure they spent all their allowance here”.

At that you dropped your shoulders in defeat and worked your shift with a pout on your face. You wouldn’t take the humiliation of losing the bet, especially after the little stunt you pulled on Thursday. The hours went by agonizingly slow, and the moment you were dreading finally came.

You turned the “Sorry, we’re closed” sign at the glass entrance door, as you were mopping the floor. All the costumers were gone, and your boss had left the keys to you and Mark, asking you to lock up instead as he had ‘an errand to run’. You wished that your coworker would somehow forget about your bet and spare you the embarrassment, but instead, he gave you a devilish side smirk and motioned you to come closer.

He emptied his jar first, and started counting out loud in front of you, insisting that you do it out together so as not to pull any “funny business”.

40 bucks. It wasn’t bad, it was good actually, and you groaned, now feeling more nervous than ever.

Mark on the other hand, relaxed his shoulders and happily started counting your tips this time. His smile started to wear off, though, as you did much better that he thought. You were neck-to-neck, figuratively and almost literally, as your heads nearly bumped together in deep concentration.

“37,38,39,40…41,42,43” he whispered out and you couldn’t believe your eyes.

You won. You actually won. You never had to see that stupid “Employee Of The Month” frame ever again and most importantly, you were finally better than Mark at something.

You let out a high-pitched squeal, jumping up and down excitedly on your spot, strikingly different that the boy next to you, who was frozen in place.

“I woooon” you teased him with a sing-song voice “and you looooost, loserrr”

It was an understatement to say that Mark was fuming.

“It’s not fair!” he yelled and pointed an accusing finger towards you. You rolled your eyes and walked further back, next to the counter with the coffee machines, happily swinging your hips.

“Don’t be a sore loser Mark, I won fair and square”

“I’m not a sore loser!”, he whines, “I was at a disadvantage!”

You raise an eyebrow and turn towards him, to see that he had taken a few steps at your direction. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”

“You’re hot!”, he groans and rubs his hands over his face. “Hell, I would die from a caffeine overdose if it meant seeing you with your little pigtails and that top and that smile, ready to ‘serve me, sir’”

You could feel your ears and cheeks turning on fire and you’d blame it on the flattery, but his horrible high-pitched impression of your voice was what made you too angry to fully process what he said.

You grabbed a syrup bottle from the counter behind you and pointed it towards his face.

“Ugh, Mark! You’re so annoying! Why do you always need to be the best at everything!”

You barged into him, squeezing the bottle over his face. With his quick reflexes he swiftly grabbed your hand, successfully immobilizing you, but you had already managed to get a big, fat line of syrup right across his lips.

In a moment of clarity, you stopped resisting and became aware of the position you and Mark were in. You had moved backwards as a result of your fight, the countertop digging in your lower back. His one hand was grabbing at your lifted arm by the wrist, the other resting on the marbled surface behind you in an effort to detain you. To top it all off, you stared at the mess you made on his lips, coupled by the unreadable look on his eyes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you thought. This is your supervisory/n! You know, the guy in charge when the boss is gone? The guy that you basically jumped because of a stupid bet? That you actually won? But will still get you fired?

You were getting ready to move away and profusely apologize to Mark, your eyes frantically moving from his eyes, to his lips, to his “Employee Of The Month” picture from across the room. He, however, stayed still, only releasing your wrist to now place his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Clean this mess”, he demanded, in a tone you would have never expected from Mark, “immediately”

In the seconds that followed his demand, the tension between you two was thicker than the drizzle that still decorated his mouth. He came even closer, your noses only a centimeter apart, his fingers pressing on your face lightly.

You were worried whether you read the room wrong or not, because if you did, your next move would most certainly get you fired.

He could barely hear your whispered “here to serve you” before you finally closed the distance between you.

You pulled his bottom lip between your lips, your tongue shyly sweeping across it, collecting the syrup that was starting to dry into a sugary paste. He was soft like a cloud and tasted like caramel. You repeated the motion for his top lip when you felt him melt into your kiss. The moment was sweet like the taste in your mouth, but it changed as soon as you felt him grab the back of your thighs, lifting you on the top of the counter.

You matched his hunger by sucking on his bottom lip this time, determined to clean him up as best as you could. He moaned your name into the kiss, his fingertips digging in the inside of his favorite thigh highs. Your skirt had well ridden up, allowing him to pinch the fabric of one of them.

“These” he started, his lips now sucking on your neck, “almost cost me my supervisor’s position with all the messing up they made me do”

He let the elastic snap against your thigh, earning a small gasp from you and you decided to tease him a little.

“Is that so huh? Because I’m so hot? With my boobs and my pigtails and my willingness to serve?” you ask with a laugh, and you feel him smile against his deep kiss over your pulse, grabbing your legs to scoot your ass and pull you closer.

“Because you’ve been driving me crazy ever since you got this job. And because you look so fucking sexy when you’re mad”

His boldness made you desperate as you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him back up into a passionate kiss. It was sticky and hot and full of tongue, and you felt something poking on the inside of your thigh before a loud noise made you snap and pull away from each other in shock.

You looked at the floor to see a, thankfully not broken, but dismantled blender, that you must have pushed off the counter in the heat of the moment. You stare down at Mark as you both laugh at the situation, his hair messy and lips swollen and you know you definitely mirrored his look.

He cleared his throat. “Uhh, not that I don’t enjoy this, cause I really do, but if we keep at it Lucas is going to be the next Employee Of The Month, and not only is that ridiculous, but we would both basically lose our little bet”

You laughed at his comment and let your feet dangle awkwardly, your cheeks heating at the thought of what might have happened if you two had kept going.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch about your framed picture” you said with a small voice, avoiding his gaze “you don’t have to take it down”

He smiled at your attempt at peace as he picked up the blender pieces and skillfully riveted them in place. Your eyes suddenly widened before adding, “I will NOT go on a date with your creepy friend though”

Mark giggled at that and shook his head before returning his eyes back at you. His cheeks were flushed a crimson red, deep in thought.

“How about me?” he blurted, “I mean, how about going on a date with me instead?”

You nodded your head, reaching a hand out to fix the messy locks out of his eyes.

“Yes. I think I’d love that”

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