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kojinnie · 4 years ago

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tis is ranon! i wanna try the twisted match-up eventho it'll probably hurts. my worst traits would be

1. Not knowing myself well enough, having to ask others how i actually am from their eyes instead of looking through my own lense because I care of other's judgement better than mine.

2. I suck at handling compliment. Everytime anybody says anything good about me, I always get defensive by saying no, change the topic of the conversation, or saying "thank you, but [insert why i don't deserve compliment]"

3. Similar to the 2nd one, I have horrible horrible self esteem. I never really look at myself in a good light, I think I am horrible. Sometimes I feel like "im the worst" yet some of the times I feel like "woah I'm a queen". Even worse, sometimes I don't have the motivation to better myself in order to raise my self esteem.

My favourite(s) would be reiner and jean, you can choose the one with the worst(or whoever you prefer) compatibility with my traits. tears up already as I slip 1 dollar to your hand, whispering happy ending please..

Pairing: Jean x Reader

Summary: You accidentally meet Jean, your high school sweetheart, thirteen years later. While he has turned into a successful man whose face you'd see on TV a lot, you think of your life and what could have been with him, if only...

Tags: Angst/Fluff, coming of age, slice of life

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: Oh Ranon my sweet child, hereby I present to thee... hopefully an antidote to the despair Yams had given us with 138. Hope you like it love!

Song mentioned: Linger by The Cranberries

"It's nice to see a familiar face 'round here."

There was no word that could describe the feelings you had upon hearing that voice. A voice that was once the first sound you hear in the morning and the one you say goodbye to before falling asleep. A voice that you had not heard for what felt like forever.

You didn't have to turn around to tell who it was, "Jean?"

The two of you erupted in laughter, both surprised by the mere coincidence of meeting each other at this old and ran-down department store, on the outskirt of the town you both grew up in.

Jean was quick to pull you into a big embrace that you gladly came into. A familiar piece of warmth was his hug, and yet it had struck you as odd that it did not feel foreign at the closest, although it had been years since the last time you met him.

Jean had grown very tall. There was no longer his signature undercut as he had let his hairs to grow past his ear. His chiseled jaw hid beneath dark brown beard he now had. You pretended to check him out and be shocked with the view, "You really grew! Like grew, GREW!" as if you hadn't seen him on the news station or the daily mail. As if you didn't follow his Instagram with your second account. As if you never thought of him at all.

He held your shoulder and pulled away to look at you, "Thirteen years and you don't look any different."

Your face grew hot and the compliment sent an uncanny discomfort to your guts, "Ah the lighting sucks here - to my advantage, fortunately."

There was a disapproving look in Jean's eyes for a passing moment before he carried on with the conversation. He didn't expect to see you at the old department store the two of you used to roam in after school, he said. Neither did you to ever meet him again, especially here. A place so awfully ordinary for someone who had grown to be the best version of himself. Jean had finally achieved his dream to be a household name in the country as one of the rising young attorneys.

The celebrity status he had achieved, all the actresses and models he had dated - it all inflicted you with some kind of inexplicable pain. One that made you feel worthless, to say the least. Someone who used to be so close to your heart, had grown so magnificently, leaving you with the painful fate of being ordinary. Yet, still your face lit up in distant pride each time a mention of Jean’s name surfaced, be it from the passing conversation your friend had, or to see it announced by the news anchor for some big public case he was working on.

Jean said that he returned home for a funeral. His uncle died, and he needed a spare sandal. He didn't know any other store, as the area both of you grew up in had changed a lot. Leaving this old department store the only place he could remember.

You passed your condolence but he was more curious with what you were up to. You chuckled because he seemed so serious when he asked, "Didn't you move out to the city? Why the hell are you coming back?" as if the misplacement of seeing someone so glitzy in this boring, dilapidated town didn't apply to him.

So you answered, and Jean turned silent for a moment. He tilted his head downward, and you noticed that he was the same person with the same mannerism. Although he was no longer the 17-year-old boy who used to get all ruffed up in school fight, trying to defend you from some stupid jocks; nor was he still the tall, lanky kid from your Home Economics class that you gave your first kiss to.

Your mind couldn’t help but to race to all the what-ifs, and the presence of Jean before your eyes right now only made the wonderings more palpable.

Jean smiled faintly to your answer, “Congratulations,” he still made his way to pat the side of your head, something he used to do every time, “big step, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s scary.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I know from school?” Jean said, faking the enthusiasm in his tone, but you didn’t notice. Because in your mind, it would be an absurd idea to think that you would still have the tiniest bit of effect on Jean, for he had outgrown all the memories he ever had with you.

“No, no,” you tried to mask the bitterness that suddenly emerged on the back of your tongue, “we met at work. He’s a great guy.”

Indeed, he was. The reason why you returned home was because you were getting married, and your fiancée wanted to be close with your family, for he didn’t have one growing up. He was an exceptional man, he had this magnetism in him, with the way he perceived things, to the abiding tenacity he had in him.

Your fiancée was a man you knew you could lean on in the eye of adversity. That’s why you agreed to marry him. But then again, there was always a void inside your heart that had no resolve to it for so many years. Your fiancée was your foundation, and yet, perhaps selfishly, you still yearned for the childish laughter and the irreplaceable feeling of freedom you once had with the man standing tall before you. Whose glance never failed to make you feel the most at ease with.

“He must be a pretty great guy to get you,” Jean’s faint smile grew into a grin, he was trying to down play the commotion he started to feel within his chest, “what’s his name? So, I can picture him.”

You laughed, because it was only natural for you to do so in the presence of the first guy you had fallen for, the first guy to ever told you how pretty you were and how all your imperfections never mattered to him, the first one to bring your teary face into his embrace after a gruesome day, before saying, ‘I never thought it’s possible. But, crazy, seeing you cry hurts me too.’

However, you knew, that all those memories had passed by and you were happy with where you were now. “Reiner,” you smiled at the mention of his name, “my fiancée’s name is Reiner Braun. He’s… amazing.”

“Wow. Tough name. Probably someone I’d stay clear from in high school.”

Both of you laughed, and the two of you continued to talk, as you walked him through the desolated alleys to find the sandal that he wanted to buy, and Jean walking you to the towel aisle that you had meant to buy one for Reiner, only to find out that they had stopped selling towels since long time ago. The laughter and reminiscing persisted until the cashier row when Jean heard your stomach grumble. Both of you exchanged glances and broke into yet another laughter.

“Salerno’s?” Jean said, suggesting the pizza place off the highway, where you had spent so many dates with him back then.

“How could I ever say no to that?”

“Settled, then. Did you drive here?” Jean’s eyes gazed afar to the parking lot, strangely looking for the old car you used to drive back in school, before realizing that thirteen years had passed and there was no chance that sickly car could ever survive the time.

“No, actually Reiner dropped me and—” As if staged by the universe, your phone rung and Reiner was calling, “—right in time, it’s him!”

You walked away from Jean for a moment as he looked for his car key inside jacket. Across the line, Reiner was gruntling, his voice was hazy, “Babe—”

“Reiner, I bumped into an old friend!” there was a sing-songy tone in your words. Through the phone, Reiner chuckled, picking up the excitement in your voice, even though it was getting more apparent that Reiner was drowsy, “Anyway babe, can you get an Uber? I took the cough syrup your mum gave me, and now I’m sleepy as fuck. ‘Fraid I won’t be able to drive.”

You turned to Jean and saw him jingling his car key at you, before returning back to Reiner on the phone, “Rei, I think my friend can drive me home. I’ll be stopping at Salerno’s, do you want anything? The calzone maybe?”

Reiner yawned, “That sounds nice but—” yet another yawn, “I’m gonna pass out. Come home soon, okay? Tuck me in.”

You cackled at the buff man whining before you said goodbye and followed Jean into his car.

The trip to Salerno’s was nourishing with memories. The poplar trees along the avenue had been replaced by lines of billboards – from advertisement of real estate agent to divorce attorney, they all reminded you of how much the town had changed. Yet the sense of comfort you shared with Jean as you joked about all of the absurd things you saw along the way, had not changed at all.

If for one second you forgot that you were driving in Jean’s expensive car, and that you imagined he was wearing a shabby soccer jersey instead of a tailored-fit shirt – if you closed your eyes and thought that thirteen years hadn’t gone by between the two of you, it almost felt like you rode a time machine to a time when Jean was yours and you were his. And something about the thought of it just broke your heart.

When Jean pulled over at Salerno’s and found out that it’s past the time for dine-in, the two of you decided to eat at his car instead. Jean didn’t even ask what you want and he returned with exactly what you had in mind, the classic calzone, something you always used to have. He remembered.

The two of you laughed, bantered and joked at each other. It felt almost as if no distance had ever been laid out between the two of you, like you hadn’t lived an entirely different life, like he was the same person after all. He hadn’t once made you self-conscious like you thought you would, considering the amount of success he had attained for himself. You felt bad for accusing Jean of the worst, when all it was just a projection of your own insecurity.

“So, you’re getting married on the 15th, and your annoying aunt is not invited?”

“Yeah, thank God for the pandemic somehow. Legit excuse, when all I wanted was not to have her talk shit about Reiner on my wedding day,” you munched through your calzone, talking mindlessly, “as for you, sir, you’re invited. That’s a no-brainer. Hereby I invite thee to my humble dwelling. Bring your model girlfriend, please, so I can brag to my cousins.”

His grin subsided into a weak smile and then into nothing at all, as he sipped on his coke. Suddenly awkward silence loomed within the small space of his car.

“Jean,” you shifted in your seat as the guilt grew on you, realizing the error in your judgment, “sorry I was being presumptuous.”

“No worries, it wasn’t serious. None of it ever was.”

You nodded, engulfed in your own guilt for bringing a bad topic up. The silence let the radio’s murmur to become noticeable, and an old song had just been played through the local radio, a tune that you used to listen with him on the back of your old creaking car after a make-out session filled with enraging teenage hormones.

And I’m in so deep~

You know I’m such a fool for you~

You got me wrapped around your finger I—

Do you have to let it linger?

You sighed and finally looked at Jean with his head hanging low, “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Eventually.” Jean answered nonchalantly, “Not even sure about the whole relationship thingy.”

“Oh.” An acknowledgment you voiced, before succumbing to yet another silence.

Jean called your name softly and when you turned to face him, he was looking at you. Even in the darkness of the parking lot, you could see his honey eyes gleamed in a look that was so familiar to you—a look of disappointment, “Tell me, how could you never end up working where you’ve always wanted to be?”

You were pulled even deeper into your silence as you looked away. Suddenly a hot rash of sadness started to swallow you whole, “I—”

You tried to voice out a tangible reason, but you had realized that all of it was your own doing. Your insecurity, your self-consciousness, the thought that you were never good enough for the thing you once wanted so bad; all of it led to a life unlived, and to have someone finally putting you in your place was embarrassing, if not painful, “—wasn’t sure if I really wanted it and—”

“—wasn’t sure if I was good enough to pass the test.”

“So, after college, you never ended up applying there? Not even a try?”

You shook your head embarrassed, looking down at your shoes.

Jean sighed and laid his food on the dashboard, before reaching for your right hand and held it warmly into his grasp. He called your name which propelled you to look back at him, “Weren’t you the one who talked me into getting into law school? Even when I thought it was impossible? Weren’t you the one who wrote on my yearbook to-my-future-attorney when everyone was convinced that I’d end up working a mediocre office job? Or a mechanic in my Dad’s shop?”

Jean carried on, “I just… I just don’t understand. How could you have so much conviction for other people but—but yourself?”

You passed a grim smile, as vulnerability started to catch up with you, “Nevermind Jean, it’s passed. I am where I am now.”

“But, wasn’t it your dream?” Jean grew antsy on his seat, it was obvious that he truly didn’t understand, “The pages and pages and pages of diary you wrote about wanting to work there? What happened?”

You sighed, running out of words to say, until you caved in, “Maybe I never knew what I truly wanted.”

“Is that why?” Jean shot another look at you, there was an intensity in his eyes that you had never seen before. There you wondered what had happened to Jean’s life in all those years passed at your absence, had he led a difficult life before getting the success he was enjoying now? “Is that why you left me—because you didn’t know what you truly want?”

Jean understood the consequence of his action, he was a well-accomplished attorney after all. He also understood the vivid pain painted all over your face, but he was taking his shot. Years of wondering where had you gone, what kind of live had you lived – you never ceased to haunt him, all the what-ifs with you he always thought about whenever he broke off yet another meaningless relationship with yet another woman he’d never cared for in his life. Over the years, he’d taken a close look at you. He’d find you on the internet, he’d asked about you to friends of a friend that was still in touch with you, he’d ‘accidentally’ found your legal documents just to see that you had gotten your college degree one year earlier than him. He didn’t know why the thought of you lingered, you just did. Arriving into his dreams where he was seventeen again and unassuming, only for him to wake up disappointed at seeing a woman that wasn’t you in his bed.

For the longest time, Jean had fended for himself to be where he’s now. When survival had finally bore fruits, what else could there be for him? Still, he felt lonely in the embrace of another woman, still he felt the void persisted even if he spent his money on things he didn’t need. Jean never thought, that after years of dreaming to be the person he’s now, all he yearned for was to have a piece of simple, ordinary and innocent happiness he once had with you.

You were, after all, the only thing that could remind him of the innocence Jean had lost after years of grueling work as an attorney—seeing how corrupt and insidious men can be. So, when his wearied eyes landed on the sight of you this evening, in the alley of that long-forgotten Department Store, Jean had no choice but to finally face his haunting.

“Jean, it’s a long time ago,” you smile, cupping his hand with your free hand, “besides, I’m no longer your type, right?” A grin, a playful grin, painfully fabricated and Jean saw right through it.

You could feel the air had gotten thick in his car, and you shifted closer to the door. Jean let go of your hand as he moved closer to you, running his long fingers through your hair. His voice had gotten deep and you could sense a hint of pain in his words, “Maybe I never had a type.”

He dragged his gaze all over your face; your eyes, your nose, your lips – the way he used to reassure that you were so beautiful in his eyes despite the self-hate you inflicted upon yourself, “Maybe all I ever wanted was you and all I ever did with those girls was to try finding you in them,” he forced a smile, so stale, so painful, “to no avail.”

You could feel the air into your lung was compromised as you battled the tears, “Jean…”

“Out of so many things that I have been brave for, I was never brave enough for one thing that I needed the most: to tell you that it’s always been you,” Jean slithered his hands through your waist and pulled you into his embrace. He laid his head, heavy with loneliness and exhaustion on to the nook of your shoulder. For lack of better term, Jean was finally back home, as he muttered, letting go of all his inhibitions, “Baby, it’s always been you. It’s always been you.”

Your whole body was weak with emotions. The thoughts, the persistent ones – the what-ifs you could have had with Jean, the life you could have lived and the dream that could have been fulfilled. Without your permission, the tears fell to your dismay as you thought of one last thing remaining in your heart: Reiner. The way he smiled and listened all through your nightly despairs, caressing you close until you fell asleep, exhausted with tears dried up all over your face. The way Reiner whispered on to your ear, amidst your drowsiness, that he loved you and that he promised to make you whole, to fill the void you had always feared for. All the little things he had done without you asking, or the way he loved your family as if they were his own.

You cursed yourself for being surprised at how much you realized that you truly loved Reiner, even when you were in the embrace of someone you wondered about often. You realized, the best way to prove to someone that you love them was to stick around. And Reiner had stuck around, as much as you stuck around for him.

You left Jean long time ago for reasons you only vaguely remembered now, but life went on and sooner or later you should make it in your heart to accept it. You smiled and thought of your life. Sure, there was a lot of thing you need to patch up, but what is life if not persevering?

You pulled away from Jean, surprised to see a beaten look on his face. Far away from the dandy and sharp young attorney you would see on the news. Once, you loved this man, but years had passed and the one he wanted was no longer there. You were no longer the person you were thirteen years ago. You were no longer the girl Jean longed for, all he wished for was a passing ghost that you have left behind in your adolescence.

You caressed his cheek for the last time and landed a kiss to his forehead, “Jean, I’m so proud of you. How far you have gone. I’m sorry I wouldn’t be the one you’d share your future achievement with, but for all the things you have done to me, for seeing the good in me when I could hardly see it… I want to say thank you,” you smiled although pain was searing within your chest, “there’s a world out there where this would work out. But not this world.”

The unexpected rendezvous you had with the man whom you had given your first love to ended with both of you crying at each other’s embrace, until Salerno’s closed and turned off their lights.

When Jean finally dropped you at your childhood home, the place he used to spend all the times in, Jean smiled and pointed at your room with the lights still lit, “He’s waiting?”

“I think he’s asleep. He’s a deep sleeper, he forgets to turn off the lights every time.”

“Does he even fit in your tiny bed?”

“Well, you did fit.”

“For a time.”

“Yeah, for a time.”

“So, you’ll be Mrs. Braun?”

“Yep, Mrs. Braun I will be.”

Jean scoffed, pretending to be annoyed, but smiling nonetheless, “Lucky bastard, that Mr. Braun.”

#jean x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #aot jean #snk jean #aot fluff #snk fluff #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #kojins twisted match-up

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saiilorstars · 4 years ago

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Familial Bonds Pt. 1-One Shot

Companion to Dare To Forget Me || Montserrat’s masterlist

Pairing: Rafael Barba x OFC

Summary: Thanks to Casey Novak, Detective Montserrat and her brother have an argument over their family's hurtful past. While Casey tends to Montserrat's brother, Rafael has his go at Montserrat with the intention of helping her make a decision.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles @averyhotchner

“Montse, please, it’s ridiculous! Why should we even entertain the idea of visiting her? We don’t even know her!” the loud voice of a man pulled several customers’ attention from other tables.

“Gael, that’s the whole point of visiting her!” Montserrat tried to argue in a normal tone but her brother was just being plain annoying. Gael Novak had that talent since she could remember. “I don’t know how she got my number but I’m glad she did. She just wants to know us, Gael.”

“I don’t want to know anyone from her family,” Gael’s spat made Montserrat flinch in her chair. “And you shouldn’t either-”

“-now hold on-”

“-she’s her mother- ”

“-and your grandmother!”

“Only biologically!”

As the two siblings went back and forth, their loud voices progressively drew in customer’s attention. Just as the manager was going to go talk to them - since he knew the Novak family quite well - he spotted the third, eldest Novak coming in through the doors. He hated to have to call her in, especially when she wasn’t alone herself, but things were getting pretty rowdy.

“Casey,” the manager smiled with relief as he came up to her. “Rafael, nice to see you again.”

The two ADAs smiled at the man, but they both faded when they heard the ongoing argument towards the back.

Casey closed her eyes, letting a sigh slip through her lips. “Please don’t tell me those are…”

“Detective Novak and the contractor?” Rafael finished for her, still feigning thought about the voices. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. She’s shouted enough for me to recognize her.”

Casey inwardly groaned. She put a hand on the manager’s shoulder and promised him she would get the two to be quiet or leave.

“...I think it’s a waste of time! And honestly, the fact you’re not giving my opinion a decent consideration is offensive!”

"Bold of you to think I would care!” Montserrat’s shout was the last response of the argument.

“Would you two please be quiet?” Casey’s presence startled the two, even more so when they saw Rafael. “The entire block can hear you.”

Montserrat busied herself with a chip that she aggressively plunged into salsa. “If Gael wasn’t being so-”

“-oh, what? What am I being, hm?” Gael snapped but Montserrat purposely remained silence. She just took a bit of her chip and chewed. “Don’t give me the silent treatment! We’re not kids anymore!”

“No, you aren’t, so be quiet,” Casey warned the two to listen to her. “Just tell us what the hell are you two arguing over?”

Montserrat reached for another chip but instead of eating it, she just cracked pieces off. “Our...grandmother...called me. I don’t know how she got number, but...she called.”

“Grandmother? Wait, didn’t you mention…” Rafael trailed off when Casey made a cutting motion across her neck.

Montserrat looked up at the two suspiciously. “Mention what?”

Casey purposely ran a hand through her hair, gaze shifting on the ground. Rafael was just confused but he ultimately elaborated a little. “Casey mentioned something about a grandmother of yours earlier. The only time I’ve seen her happy after losing a case.”

Casey shot him a mock glare. “Thank you. I see why Montse complains about you.”

“I didn’t know it was a secret,” he shot back.

“Casey, what’s going on?” Gael asked from his cousin. She wasn’t usually one to get into familial problems like this.

“Nothing,” Casey tried to be casual about it but her awkward shifting was enough to put both siblings in further suspicion.

“Rafael, you seem to know,” Montserrat looked at him sharply. “And if you don’t tell me what it is I’ll make sure your time with me becomes even more unbearable.”

“That’s possible?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Try me.”

Now, the reason he decided to ultimately share was not because of the threat Montserrat imposed on him - maybe like 10% of his reason - but instead it was for the sheer fact that Montserrat looked genuinely upset. He’d seen her angry on occasions but it was always due to their challenging cases. This was something more personal, and he didn’t quite like seeing her this way. Besides, what Casey did didn’t seem to be bad in his perspective.

“She just...she just said she gave your grandmother your cell phone number,” his words may have well been the words of war. Gael fixated a deep glare on Casey but Montserrat stayed quiet, frozen even.

“Casey, what the hell!?” Gael shot up from his chair. “Why would you give that woman Montse’s number!? Tell me you didn’t give her mine !?”

“I thought it would do you well - both of you well,” Casey’s honest answer pulled Montserrat’s gaze up to the woman. “I know your mother’s side of the family isn’t one you speak to but she sounded genuinely curious about you two. I didn’t see any harm-”

“-you shouldn’t have done anything!” Gael continued to shout. “This isn’t your problem, Casey! Do us the favor and just keep your nose in your cases!” he grabbed his jacket off his chair and stormed towards the doors.

“Gael, wait!” Casey left her things on the table in a hasty manner. She put a hand on Montserrat’s shoulder, lowering herself for a quick moment. “I just wanted to help.” She pulled her hand back and hurried to catch up with Gael on the street.

Montserrat shook her head and started dusting her hands off from the crumbles of chips. “I’m sorry,” she said so hushed Rafael could barely hear her. She was getting ready to leave, but she seemed nowhere near herself.

“Montse, hold on,” Rafael put a hand on her arm to keep her in her chair. He slowly took the chair next to her, motioning he was just going to talk, though she wondered if this was just going to be another session of poking fun at her like it usually was. “Whatever this whole thing is about, I can personally vouch that Casey did seem to have the best intentions. She was excited to know what you would say.”

“I don’t doubt that she did this in good faith, but Gael was right. It wasn’t her place,” Montserrat reached for her purse hanging on her chair.

“M-Montserrat, please talk to me,” Rafael’s request came as unusual for Montserrat. He knew that too which was why he added on, “I like to think that despite our...rockish...moments, we are indeed friends.”

“Rockish,” Montserrat repeated with the tiniest of smiles, but for Rafael is was a start.

“C’mon, talk. Casey’s coming back so we’re not going anywhere,” he made himself comfortable in his chair. As Montserrat reached for another chip he smacked her hand away from it, making her roll her eyes.

“This is our maternal grandmother we’re talking about-”

“-kind of figured,” Rafael said through munches. “Casey Novak loves to talk about her grandparents.”

“After my mom walked out on our family my Dad moved us to a whole new neighborhood so we wouldn’t have to see any of her family again, and much less her. That’s just the way things were until today,” Montserrat sighed. She finally grabbed a chip but she just toyed with it at the plate’s edge. “I acknowledge that my mother doesn’t love me nor my brother, but that doesn’t have to extend to my grandmother, right?”

“Shouldn’t have to, but you knew that already,” Rafael flashed her a smile. “It’s why you came to talk to Gael, right?”

“Correct,” Montserrat sighed again. “I thought maybe...maybe the both of us could visit her. She lives in the Bronx. She sounded sweet on the phone - but nervous, she was so nervous too. She wants to meet us. It caught me by surprise but...I don’t know-” she shrugged ever-so-casually, “-it felt nice. She spoke to me in Spanish, you know I don’t know that.”

“Oh, I know,” Rafael didn’t hesitate to confirm that. Despite her Latin side on her mother’s side, Montserrat didn’t own a drop of the Spanish language.

Montserrat smiled out of embarrassment. “She was so sweet I just...I couldn’t help feel curious myself. Who is my grandmother, you know? What can she teach me? Will she love me despite never meeting me?”

“Well, I have to be honest,” Rafael dusted his hands off from the chips. “It takes time to get used to you-” Montserrat sarcastically tilted her head at him, “-but after some time, you get to realize that you are a good person. And you deserve to be happy.”

Montserrat’s face softened, albeit a trace of surprise still made an appearance. “Who are you and what have you done with Rafael Barba?” He rolled his eyes at her but she swore she saw a tint of a blush on him for a second.

“I mean it, Montse. Take it from someone who’s already lost their grandmother. Don’t let a potentially good relationship slip from your hands. This woman found Casey just to find you. That alone should show good intentions.”

“But what if Gael was right? What if it’s just a waste of time?”

“Do you think it’d be a waste of time?”

Montserrat took in a breath while she thought. “My Dad said that my mom’s family was big. I have aunts, uncles, cousins...all these people I’ve never met before. I’d like to get to know them. And my grandmother…” she got lost in thoughts only to be pulled back when Rafael placed his hand over hers on the table. His warmth provided a support she didn’t even know she needed. It just felt pretty good. “Gael is going to be pretty mad at me for going…” she admitted it troubled her to know Gael would probably shout at her all over again.

“You don’t have to tell him right away if that makes it easier on you,” Rafael suggested. “Take your time, get to know this woman who - for some reason - wants to meet you…”

Montserrat rolled her eyes at his smirk. She tried to pinch his hand around hers but it ultimately turned into a tighter grip between them. She took refuge in it and wondered if it would be ridiculous to ask if she could talk to him first after meeting with her grandmother.

#ocappreciation #svu #rafael barba #svu imagines #rafael barba imagines #fd: svu #oc: Montserrat Novak

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idjitlili · 5 years ago

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Okay hear me out

Fili x modern!reader

Summary: imagine convincing fili to let you do his hair.

word count:3894 longest fic so far

a/n its my birthday tomorrow aka the 14th of july

You had been somehow transported into Tolkien's universe, at the time of hobbit, landing infront of Gandalf. The fall hurt your bottom, you had groaned and looked up to see Gandalf looking at you in shock. However he had decided you would accompany him to Bilbos house. You didn't have a choice you didn't know where you bloody were! Gandalf has seen pretty nice, he said he would help you, but didn't understand how on middle earth you had ended up in a different world.

At this point Gandalf had already been at bilbos house and left a mark on the door, so it was quite dark when you both arrived. When you had reached your destination , dwarves , lots had stood infront of the door pushing against eachother to get inside. You stood staring at the dwarves as the door was pulled open harshly ;by an annoyed hobbit.

stumbing down on each other with grunts and groans of frustrations ,plus pain. They evently all got up slowly ,your patience was low not as low as the hobbit who muttered 'Gandalf' ,before rushing further into the hole. Bilbo had realised that Gandalf was up to something sighing in defeat as Bombur scoffed down his expensive cheese.You felt bad for the dude these dudes were trashing his den and eating his food, you didnt really like sharing your food ,so you could imagine the pain Bilbo felt. Bilbo didnt even glance at you next to Gandalf he was too busy preventing his hole collasping inwards.

You and Gandalf had walked into the hobbit hole ,swiftly once the dwarves had. The warm air hitting your chilly cheeks,the warm light making your eyes blur for a spilt second ,the burst of loud laughter, clanking of plates and such filled your ear drums. You were going to have a huge headache by the end of the night.

You had hid behind Gandalf ,like a child would behind their mothers when talking to strangers ,as he led you to the dinning room. You were nervous there was no doubt about that ,you didnt want to be refused by this horin you had heard about,but Gandalf told you not worry. Apparently Thorin wasnt even here yet,a muscular dwarf told Gandalf ,he had glanced at you suspiciously before going back to getting ale.

Gandalf had asked a brunette dwarf to find you a seat and some food ,pulling you out from behind him. The dwarf had sent you a wide smile, lifting your hand pressing a kiss to you knuckles,doing a bow sorta thing. "Kili,at your service." his gesture had made you blush,no one had ever done something like that before.

"uh, y/n at yours." you had spoke quietly to dwarf,who smiled again still gasping your hand tugging you to a seat next to a blond dwarf. After he let go of your hand, you had sat ,while the brunette dwarf sat down beside you, there wasnt a lot of room so you were shoulder to both dwarves. The blond one had turnt to you eyeing you,which kili had shoved some bread and ale infront of you. You were starving so you didnt waste anytime eating it ,Kili had smirked looking towards his brother.

"y/n this my brother Fili,Fili this is y/n" you had looked up at Fili with a mouthful of bread,gulping it down quickly,sending him a smile. He was indeed very handsome like his brothr,he had smiled at you. "Nice to meet you" you had spoke quietly yet again. "you too." he had replied unsure of his words,he had taken in your clothing it was very strange to anything he had ever seen a human dress.

"so y/n, will you be accompanying us on our journey?" Kili had questioned you,making you break you gaze from Fili. "i-i dont know,Gandalf says i am ,but this Thorin dude sounds scary." even his name sent chills down your spin ,making you shake slightly,the brothers had broken out into loud laughter. You had looked towards them in confusion. "you are not worry ,uncle cannot refuse a wizard." Fili had spoke to you smiling.

"Yeah,plus we will protect you from him,wont we Fili?" Kili had thrown his arm around your shoulder,making you blush a little again. "Yeah,plus uncle will be too distracted with us causing trouble" You had smiled up at fili,chugging down the ale down that you were given. Soon enough Thorin had arrived ,and Gandalf had explained your situation,arguing with Thorin that you were brought here for a reason,eventually Thorin gave in.

You signed a contract, while Kili questioned about your world on and on,he even asked you if you had a boyfriend which you hadnt even had one real relationship. The Durin brothers were pleased with you answer, Thorin didnt hate you,but wasnt keen on a young women joining this quest incase you got hurt. Plus he didnt want to have to worry for you , like he had already did for his nephews,at least you werent an elf...

By the morning you were on a pony,sharing with Fili becayse no one had planned on a 15th member until you fell infront of Gandalf. You hadnt rode a pony for many years only a couple of times as a child,even though you werent going fast your arms were still wrapped around Fili waist/chest. Kili had smirked at his brother,raising his eyebrows,Fili rolled his eyes mouthing 'jealous' and that was that,of course you didnt know about the interaction.

"If I poppedmy cherry,while riding this pony ,i swear." you had spoken quietly,the phrase confused the other dwarves and Bilbo.

"uh, miss y/n what does that mean?" Bilbo had asked ,he was generally curious,you had smiled at the hobbit.

"it means to break my hymen while riding on a pony ,so basically lose my virginity." Bilbo's mouth gap open slightly in shock,but he slowly nods. Bofur,Fili,kili,and some other dwarves had laughed at your worry.

"you'll be fine as long as you dont ride him to hard" Kili had smirked at you sending you a wink,you had scoffed. Fili had smirked at you rjecteing his brother,it gave him some hope that you would eventually like him, he was developing a small crush on you. You had sent a blush to hus face when you had choosen to ride with him.

Obliviously you hadnt packet for this trip, you were lucky enough to fall into this world ,when you had your toothbrush and toothpaste in hand when you slipped and fell into a portal thang. You were lucky enough for the dwarves to give you any unneeded blankets,so you didnt freeze at night,and fili and kili shared their water pouches with you. When it came to night the brothers would set up their bedrolls either side of you ,and if Fili saw you were cold in the night he would pass his furs over you.

But that was months ago,the war was over ,erebor was reclaimed,apparently the reason you were sent here was to save the Durins line which you did. Thorin liked you much more now ,he had now given you a room ,near his and his nephews chambers. You felt lonely,useless even now ,your task was done you had nothing left to achieve in this world. However Thorin coranation ball was soon,he had already sent you dress makers to make you a dress,as gift for you. He wouldnt let it down that you saved his family ,basically he is your bank,he buy you anything you want,not that you wanted to take any of his money.

You had a dark green dress made ,apparently the tailors said it was best suited for you, it was simple ,busted your boobs a bit,and was to the floor,simple as that. avelvet material,shoulders showing with arms,you didnt want to be cold to be honest. You laid on you bed above the covers ,with a towel wrapped around your torso and upper thighs,covering your parts. Head on your pillow,wet hair spread upon it too,staring the celling.

That was until three brief knocks hit your pine door,knock,knock,knock. You didnt know who to expect probably Bilbo. "come in" you replied with a monotone voice. The door creeked open,closing shortly after as footsteps could be heard approaching you. You turnt your head to see Fili, with a blush upon his face ,seeing you in just a towel, you smiled at him ,before turning you head back to the celling.

"im sorry,y/n , I'll come back later"he spoke quickly,looking at you waiting for a response.

"no,no ,no, stay," you replied hurredly ,getting up from your bed quickly trying not flash the prince, grabbing your tshirt throwing it over your head ,so it covered your. You trousers the same just going under the towel, then removing the towel,you didnt know if fili had watched you but he wouldnt have seen anything anyways.

"uh..so why did you come here?" you had questioned the prince ,turning to facing him, he had his back to the door,from giving you privacy getting dressed. "you can face me now fili im not naked." he chuckled nervously ,before turning swiftly around to you. "I just came to see how you were, I havent seen you for days." he sent you a gently smile,walking closer to you ,inspecting you,for signs of distress.

"Im totally cool,don't worry about me." you didnt want to upset Fili by telling him the truth,but you knew he knew you werent ,you had been in your room for three days straight. He had risen an eyebrow at you. "i just don't know why im still here ,I saved your family,now I feel like im useless to be here anymore." you had spoken quietly , eyes looking at the floor which your bare feet stood. You sit at the edge of your bed ,shoulders lower as the bed dips next to you Fili pulls you into a bear hug his strong arms around your shoulders pulling you into him.

"You are NOT useless ,in the passed few days ,do you know how much I missed you,kili has been driving me nuts. I needed you there so i could punch him and you to say it never happened." you laugh quietly into Filis chest ,as your arms are wrapped around his waist tightly. "ill do it if you let me do one thing,please." you looked you from Fili's chest into his blue eyes. "depends what you wanna do?" he smirked at you,still holding you tightly. "Let me do your hair , like evan almighty." you smiled hopefully at the dwarf ,ignoring his joke,his eyes became wide ,he didnt think you knew about courting rituals.

"Y-you want to do my hair?" he was a little taken back ,you just nodded excitedly at the blond prince."okay,go ahead." he didnt want to call you out on it just incase you didnt know,plus he didnt want to face rejection. You jumped up out of his arms to run and grab a brush ,running back launching yourself on the bed ,making fili laugh at your excitement. You kneel behind the prince ,gently taking out his brides,you kept asking if you were allowed to do this he assured you that you could. After you had done that,you brushed out his blond locks ,before pulling it back into a low ponytail. You wish you could do that pony braid on his beard like in the movie but this will have to do. "hehe ,its done." Fili got up and went to the mirror on your dresser,smiling at you in the mirror as you watched. "i love it,thank you,but now its your turn."

Before you knew it he had picked you bridal style with ease ,placing you on a chair,grabbing a brush standing behind you. Bro it happened in 0.3 seconds ,before he started brushing through your h/c hair. Soon his thick dwarven fingers were lacing through your hair ,it was indeed soothing,ever now and then he would place in his beads at the ends of your hair. Once he had finished he had brought you to the same mirror,once you had looked,you realised he braided your hair exactly like he would.You had turnt around quickly,grabbing hisupper arms tightly,thanking him. "Oh my god fili,lets pranked kili!" he had smirked at you."how?"he was always up for playing tricks on his brother.

"Ill pretend to be you,i already got the hair even though its not exactly the same,i just need to borrow some clothes. And if he asks where you are ,ill be like im right here brother," fili had laughed at your plan argeeing to it.Thorin had gift you with many clothes and even makeup which is what you needed right now. You had drawn on a moustache,that fili had before he had led you to his room fetching you some clothes. Luckily kili nor anyone else had spotted you. You had taught how to do an a dance from evan almighty if he was to be caught. You had changed quickly ,keeping your own trousers just changed your shirt while fili faced away. He had given you one of his tunics and his coat while he just wore a tunic,you left yuor clothes on his bed before the both of you fled out the room, you rushed a head while he sneaked behind.

Soon enough you had ran into kili,who eyed your attire confused,at first he thought you had slept with his brother. "Y/n w-what are you doing?" he questioned you,you smirked at him. "Brother what are talking about? y/n is eating potatoes in bed>" you gripped kilis shoulders ,in a botherly manner eyeing him. He had reached up your braids ,touching the beads. "why are you wearing fili's beads? are yo-" "YOUR IT!" you tapped his shoulder ,running away from him,he didnt question you further ,but chased after you ,but you were simply to fast with your long human legs. You had made it to Thorins throne ,which he sat you jumped into his lap roughly,wrapping an arm around his neck

Before he spoke you had breathlessly taken that chance, "Uncle ,kili stole my last piece of bacon." he had chuckled at you, "now my sisters son ,you may have his dessert tonight." you had cheered,as you did Fili had ran into the room,Kili soon after slow coach.

"Fi;i what are you doing?!" kili shouted ,you smirked "no what areee ya doin'?" fili grinned as kili glared at you turning to his actual brother. Fili started doing the dance from evan almighty "uh,uh,uh" mving his hips with his arms in sync motion. You had jumped out of Thorins lap,to join Fili dancing. Before grabbing his hand ,running off into the gardens as it poured down with rain. The rain streamed down your face ,making the makeup do the same,okay so it wasnt really a prank it was just a little fun.

"Oh mister almighty,you do look very handsome."you spoke smirking at fili as the rain soaked you both.

"As do you ,but I think miss y/n is much more beautiful." he spoke to you making a blush rise on your face,you pressed a kiss upon his cheek. "oh my i just kissed myself." fili chuckled lightly ,you forced fili to give you a piggy back ride to his room,so you could both change and to wash your face , Leaving your clothes to dry however you both left you hair,making your way to dinner in which all the company were attending to you. As you walk in all eyes are on the pair of you,kili gestures for the two of you to sit next him ,exactly like when you both met,kili to your left fili to the right. The company kept galancing at you ,as you began to eat your potatoes and pork.

"y/n?" you had glanced up to see Bofur addressing you ,you nod at the hatted dwarf "did fili do that to you hair ,and you do that to his?" he questioned carefully as fili glared at him. "well.. yeah, i wanted to his hair as something different, but i couldnt because his beard wasnt long enough and yeah" you werent even sure what you were saying,because you knew they wouldnt understand if you said steve as even almight/noah.you shove a mouthful of mash into your mouth,you were hungry,your hair was still soaked.

"you are aware that touching a dwarves hair,is a a courting ritual,lassy?" Balin had questioned you making your face go red,choking on your mash,kili patted you back."shes even wearing his beads!" dori had interjected "and lass wearing dwarves clothes suggests that you get it on-" Dwalin began only to be cut off by Thorin "thats enough! shes human ,and from another world how on bloody earth would she know any of our courting customs? shes wouldnt now leave it NOw." Thorin had defending you sensing you were embarrassed,sending you a smile, which you return lightly."Thorin,may i go finish my food alone,in my room?please." It wasnt that you didnt like fili your crush grew huge over the months , its just you had felt like he had set you up for embarrassment by not telling you. Thorin had smiled at you nodding ,thats all it took for you to grab your plate and drink before rushing up to your room.

You couldnt eat your food now,you had shoved it a side before laying down like earlier ,staring intensely at the cream celling,it felt like it only minutes you had been laying there,but the sky was dark ,the month light shinning in through you window. However you didnt know right now kili was coaching fili how to express his feelings for you,to court you. Eventually they had came up with the idea for fili to ask you to walk with him in the gardens, but first he would have to apologise. Fili had basically became sonic sprinting to your room ,kili was currently hiding in a bush in the gardens. Fili he knocked hurriedly on your door, you had ignored his calls ,he had spoke "I'm coming in y/n." he had opened your door rushing to you,you had ignored him again ,pretty childish you know. "Im sorry ,y/n. I didn't mean to embarrass you,please let me explain." he had spoken sincerely,gripping your left hand. "go a head then." you replied still looking at the celling.

"walk with me." you had groaned,you werent mad with fili,you were just embarrassed about the confrontations,you had slipped your shoes back on ,fili held your hand walking you to the gardens in silence.

Bilbo had walked by kili,only to be pulled in the bush ,telling him to shut up ,and watch. There was a pond with breaks around it,fili had led you to sit on there with him,his rough thumb circled your palm whilst holding it gently. You looked into his ocean eyes whilst he stared back in your e/c ones. "y/n l/n I did not intend to embarrass you only to portray my feelings for you,because I am too much of a wimp to face heartbreak if your feelings werent returned.Also didnt mean for the others to think we slept together ,I saw the joy in your eyes when you wanted to annoy kili ,with me.I didnt want to deny that,okay pretty bad excuses I know but what I am trying to say is I love you." he poured out ,turning away from you red faced ,eyes watering slightly,you had pulled his face to you. "i love you too, seth rogen." you had blushed pressing your lips onto his before pulling away,before pushing him into the pond. You had moved out the way so he couldnt grab you had pull you in. He had went under before resurfacing, "hey when you fell in did you flounder?" you had smirked at your pun,it had matched the situation ,as hours ago you had forced him to impersonate steve carell,kili and bilbo were trying not to giggle. "what was that for?" he had gasped ,climbing out of the pond. "oi,dont be so koi ,you had that coming ,for not sticking up for me at dinner." you had pointed at him,still punning before he walked slowly towards you. "you are right maybe i should present my affection to you to make up for it." he held out his arms ,smirking you had widened your eyes muttering "no,no,no" about to run for it but you were too late,he had grabbed you,lifting you onto his shoulders before jumping back into the pond.

You had only been in the water a few seconds before fili had gotten out,lifting you out after,carrying you bridal style,you smiled up at him soaking wet, before walking towards the building. "lets go get dry then you can braid my hair ,hm?" he had finally gotten his love ,and there was nothing better, maybe a child but not right now,you finally felt you had a meaning to be in middle earth. There was a reason you were sent here to say fili,because you were meant to spend your life with him. "okay mister seth rogen?" he had looked down at you confused,as bilbo and kili stared in awe before sneaking off to tell thorin and the others. "who is seth rogen?" you had laughed "you are the seth rogen to my james franco," he didnt know what the hell you were talking about ,yet he smiled,he really was your seth rogen.

#the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit fili #fili x you #fili imagine #fili x reader #the hobbit imagines

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 4 years ago

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Day 4 Hobbit Plot Bunnies

Title: Just to See You Happy

Summary: Time Travel AU. Frodo has carried the Ring and deserves as much rest as any mortal can bear. He refuses to see his mission as complete until Bilbo finds his happiness. And if that happiness is found in a group of dwarves from long ago, Frodo will fight the Valar above to see it done. Along the way though, he may learn it’s not the ‘dwarves’ but perhaps one dwarf in particular.

POV: Frodo

Bilbo Baggins was many things in the eyes of his nephew both before and after the incident with the ring. He was courageous. He was kind. He was encouraging. He was everything Frodo needed him to be when suffering the tragedy of losing his parents. He could so clearly recall the memory of running out as a tween without a waistcoat in his eagerness to get to the market to get the first pick of raspberries for Bilbo’s tarts.

Of course, he had managed to run into Lobelia Sackville-Baggins who gave him such a scolding on the shame he brought his family name to be underdressed, running wild, with uncombed feet hair to top. Frodo could barely stomach the lashing, and ran back to Bag End, tears in his eyes, ready to never leave the hole again. Well, that certainly wouldn’t do for ‘Mad’ Baggins as he promptly stepped out in his bathrobe of all things! Returned Lobelia’s barb words tenfold making sure she knew just who the shame upon the family name of Baggins was, and then sent Frodo out into the woods where the ‘best wild berries’ lay hid.

It really was no wonder Frodo offered to walk upon the slopes of Mount Doom itself just to protect his uncle. He would do anything for his uncle’s piece of mind. And while the Big Folk may sit around and argue as to whether or not Bilbo could be faulted for picking up what he deemed a harmless trinket that turned out to be the singularly most evil item in all of Middle Earth, Frodo decided he could carry those invisible sins. All for Bilbo’s happiness.

Happiness. A curious word in retrospect. If one had asked Frodo prior to the whole mess with the ring if his uncle was happy, he would have said yes easily. After all, he had shared laughs and smiles with Bilbo. He had been subjected to tender hugs and kisses as a faunt. He knew the stories that could tickle him pink. What else could happiness entail?

However, in the weeks leading up to their departure to the Undying Lands, Frodo looked introspectively, and realized Bilbo had been happy in the Shire in the same way Frodo was happy now. A mask of contentedness that hid the drowsy emptiness inside. A phantom pain that couldn’t be explained, and that couldn’t be chased away. A sad thing that clings to the back of the mind once they were alone. Perhaps it was the way one felt after having witnessed true tragedy, and there was no cure. Or perhaps it was the lingering effects of the ring that refused to give up even after its destruction. Either way, Frodo hoped with his entire being that the Undying Lands were the answer. That sailing west with the elves would heal this hurt upon his and Bilbo’s minds to show them true happiness once more.

Frodo watched his uncle’s face light up in pure delight when he deemed himself ready for ‘one last adventure’. It was so nice to see Bilbo coherent once more. That was the one thing he feared the most as he grew older, the loss of his wits. Seeing that he found them once more gave Frodo hope as he climbed into the boat with him. That hope was dashed within the first hour of their voyage.

“As soon as we land in Valinor, we must stop at the Gardens of Yavanna and maybe the Lands of Lorien before we head to the Halls of Aule.” Bilbo began to murmur excitedly.

“The Halls of Aule?” Frodo questioned with a laugh. “What business do you have in the Valar’s Smithy?”

“The Valar’s Smithy indeed.” Bilbo huffed. “I’ll have you know that is where my dwarves are, and I intend to see them.”

“Bilbo, my dear fellow, you and Frodo are the first mortals to get to visit Valinor.” Gandalf pointed out delicately.

“Meaning what exactly?” Bilbo asked with a raised brow.

“Meaning you won’t exactly have free reign to wander into anyone’s afterlife. You will be treated as a mortal in an immortal’s land.” Elrond answered gently.

The joy that had been shining in his eyes swiftly left making the already old hobbit seem nearly decrepit. After that, it was hard to get Bilbo to engage with them again. He just sat there looking out across the ocean with that pained look Frodo knew only too well. However, now he was wondering if the reason behind that look had nothing to do with the Ring. What if it had to do with something that happened during Bilbo’s adventure?

Frodo went to sleep that night wishing for more than anything to just be able to erase that look from Bilbo’s eyes forever. After closing his eyes, Frodo actually began to dream for the first time in a long time. He was standing amongst the stars where several tall figures began to appear.

The first was a blind man with hair fairer than Lady Galadriel. He looked over at Frodo and winked before turning to the rest of the gathering. With a jolt, Frodo realized what he was witnessing. He was in a meeting of the Valar, and that man was Lorien, Master of Dreams and Desires. As he spun around, more names became associated with the faces above him.

Lady Yavanna, earthy and proud, next to her husband in the dwarven armor and long red beard, Aule the Smith. Manwe’s electric blue eyes practically radiated the power as King stood next to his wife and queen, Varda, shining stronger than the stars around them. Mandos, Nienna, Este, Tulkas, every lord and lady Frodo had ever grown up learning about was present, and not a single one of them was aware of his meager presence. Well, until Lady Yavanna had the gull to wink at him.

“Why have you summoned us, Lorien?” The impressive voice of Manwe bellowed.

“To answer the call of your Chosen.” The blind Vala answered.

“Yavanna and Aule’s children?” The shadowed persona of Mandos questioned. “Have we not already granted them asylum?”

Yavanna shared a look with her husband, giving his hand a squeeze of support.

“After the service they have done us, is it too much to give them an audience?” Aule gruffed.

“Oh yes! Please, let us hear Frodo Baggins out.” Nienna pleaded her Mercy with tears streaming down her face.

Frodo suddenly found himself the intense victim of the immortals’ weighted gaze. The fact that his legs hadn’t given out on him yet was a strong reminder that this was only a dream.

“Well, let’s have it.” Este’s sweet voice, as the Lady of Healing would have, carried down to Frodo making him feel almost giddy. “What would you desire of us, Young One?”

Frodo gulped struggling for a moment to find an answer for the Vala.

“You see, it’s my uncle, Bilbo Baggins. I just want him to be happy. He doesn’t deserve to be so burdened. The choice to Bear the Ring was mine and mine alone, but Uncle...he just thought he was helping thirteen dwarves get home.”

Eyes shifted to Vaire, the Weaver, as she pondered Frodo’s request.

“It’s true there were many paths laid out before Bilbo Baggins, but...it was the fall of the Line of Durin that sealed his pain. I cannot free him without going back nearly eighty years in the mortal’s lifetime.”

Yavanna gripped Aule’s hand in support as his face twisted into a pained grimace.

“The three deaths in question were young and unnecessary, but unavoidable when considering the proximity of the One Ring that Bilbo Baggins carried at the time.” Aule pointed out.

“And we cannot surrender that front.” Manwe interjected. “This mortal’s pain is unavoidable.”

“Not necessarily.” Lorien gave a tight grin. “I have called us all here because I have heard the calls from both Frodo and Bilbo Baggins, and I believe there is a way to fulfill their desires. Vaire, could there be a path to peace created from the presence of Frodo Baggins after what the mortals referred to as the Fell Winter?”

Gasps were heard around the room.

“That far back?”

“Can it be done?”

Vaire seemed to give this a considerable amount of thought, and as she thought her fingers glided through the starry landscape as if she were sewing a pattern in the vastness of the sky. Her eyes widened at whatever it was she saw, and she turned towards the rest intrigued.

“There is a pattern I see. It’s very risky, but it can be done.”

“You’re asking us to risk the fate of the world on the happiness of a single mortal?” Manwe scoffed. “Why would we ever consider such a thing?”

“Because if anyone deserves happiness, it’s the ones we burdened with our shame and inaction.” Nienna cried out. “We must give Frodo Baggins a chance.”

Varda took that moment to address Frodo causing silence amongst the rest of the Valar.

“Frodo Baggins, do you understand what is being asked of you?”

“Forgive me, My Lady, but I’m afraid I do not.” He admitted.

She nodded gently but her voice still rang firm. “If we grant this wish for you. To see your uncle’s happiness, you will have to carry the One Ring once more. Could you bear such a burden again?”

Frodo hesitated and the pain in his shoulder from the Nazgul’s blade throbbed as if in denial of the deed that lay before him. He was broken from the quest the first time. Would there be anything left if he had to carry such evil once more? He came to the Undying Lands in search of peace. Peace for himself and for Bilbo. This entire conversation seemed to counter that point. His anxiety must have shown on his face, because Este’s calm broke through his dark thoughts.

“I cannot see the future, Frodo Baggins. But I can feel out this timeline, and if you succeed, you and Bilbo will finally be free of the pain you carry.”

Frodo heaved a heavy sigh. There was really no question then, was there?

“I don’t know if I am truly the right person for such a monumental task as this. But for Bilbo...for myself, I would be willing to try.”

Tulkas laughed hard enough to shake the foundation upon which they stood.

“What did you do to these ones to make them so courageous, Aule?” He questioned.

Frodo stared at the smith in confusion as he just smiled fondly.

“I let my wife have some input in the design. She wanted them born with a healthy dose of hope.”

“Then let us carry that hope forward. Manwe, with your permission, I wish to send Frodo back in the timeline where he can make a real difference. He will remember much of his previous life, and he will know of the task that lies before him.”

Manwe sighed a gust that threatened to blow Frodo over. “So mote it be.”

“So mote it be.” Everyone else repeated.

Frodo looked expectantly up at Lorien who was gazing down at him softly. “Go Little One. May you fulfill all your wishes, and if you need guidance, may you always know where to find me.”

Slowly, the world faded around him until he was once again enclosed in darkness. Waking up instantly, Frodo found himself in a world much unlike the one he just left. And the first thing he noticed was how it was unbearably cold.

#7 days of plot bunnies #bagginshield #thilbo #frodo centric #birthdayplotbunnies #starterdrabble #that one time Frodo traveled through time #to be his uncle's wingman

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kookadoodle · 6 years ago

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Boy Next Door

PLOT: Living next to the Jeons has never caused you trouble, until a certain boy with curly locks moves in

PAIRING: Jungkook x reader GENRE: fluff, suggestive smut, angst, Neighbor!AU WARNINGS: a few bad words, sexual tension and stuff WORDCOUNT: 9k A/N: this is basically my life without any of the facts but all of the feelings T.T

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Living in suburbia has never bothered you much. All through childhood, you have been used to being close with neighbors and making friends across the street with the other kids around. Running in and out of houses, playing in each other’s yards on the best swing set or trampoline and sharing the joys of childhood together has made you comfortable with socializing along with securing you friendships for a lifetime. You have always been an only child but have never felt as one. It has its perks, indeed. It has never even bothered you that the house next door is so close that you could basically just trim the hedge between and share one big garden with them. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon probably would not even mind it as they always end up chatting with your parents by the hedge anyways, inviting you all over for a cup of coffee or homemade lemonade. They are the nicest couple on the street, and they have always made sure to have cookies or cakes for you, whenever you would visit them. They do not have any children but living so closely has made it almost inevitable not to visit them sometimes. It has made you comfortable with them, and you have never been bothered by the fact that they have a perfect view right into your room. Considering you can mostly be seen from their guestroom, it has never made you feel uncomfortable since there has rarely ever been anyone staying in there. Other than that, your yard is pretty closed in, shielding you from the eyes of your peers after you and your neighborhood friends have all hit puberty and self-awareness. It is nice to have that kind of privacy at home compared to everywhere else. However, all good things must end, and the privacy you treasure is compromised one day when Mr. Jeon’s troubled nephew moves in.

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That you are unprepared is an understatement. You are going about your day as you always do and coming home to your house feels no different than it has before. You are just returning from a sleepover at a friend’s house and dropping all your stuff on your bedroom floor before opening your window to let in some fresh air. The sound of it catches someone’s attention, yet you are unaware of that. It is not until you are taking off your shirt and are left in only your bra that you look across your backyard and meet eyes with a brown-haired boy next door. He notices that you have caught him staring, so with a faded blush he looks away and makes himself busy. You use your shirt as a shield, while you move over to your closet and grab a fresh one. Watching his window closely, you put on the new one as you are sure that he is no longer looking. Who on earth is that? you think to yourself. You have not seen him there before, so he is definitely new. You figure he must be a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Jeon since he is staying in their guestroom, but it worries you. As demonstrated, it means that he has a perfect view of your room. However, it is a two-way thing, and instead, you find yourself watching him as your curiosity overtakes you. Between the two of you right now, the creep would be you. At least, he has the decency to look away, while your eyes are glued to the window. He is around the same age as you, and it makes you wonder. Normally, whenever they have guests over, they are typically older than him. Since the Jeons do not have children, you find it a bit weird for them to have a young man in their home. He suddenly peeks over at you to see if you are still there, and it surprises you enough to make you drop to the floor, trying to avoid him. You then scold yourself, knowing he most definitely saw that. Why am I like this? you question. After spending a good few minutes on your floor totally embarrassed, you finally get the courage to check on him. Unexpectedly, you find his room empty, and you get up on your feet. Please, let his stay be brief, you pray, hoping for no more surprises or awkward encounters.

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“He what!?” you suddenly burst out, taking your parents by surprise at the dinner table. “He is Hyunwoo’s nephew, Jungkook, and he just moved in with them,” your mom repeats with slight amusement from your reaction. You cannot believe it. “I thought he was just a guest,” you say, and the news makes you forget the food on your plate. “No, no, he has moved in permanently. Apparently, he is too troubling for his mother, so they decided that he should move here for a while,” she explains, while cutting her vegetables. Permanently - the word that circles in your head. The brown-haired lurker is not merely a guest, but officially your new neighbor. Just your luck. “In what way is he troubling?” you ask, finding yourself starting to worry. Please, don’t say he’s a creep, you pray internally. Not that your prayers ever work. “I didn’t ask, but I have a feeling that he isn’t really the serious type. Maybe he parties too much and studies too little,” your mom starts. “It would make sense since they do care a lot about grades, where they come from. Maybe they pressure him too much,” she adds before taking a bite. “Mom, you can’t say that, it’s prejudicial,” you argue, finding her to be too blunt with her words. You know that she cares about the neighbors and does not mean it badly, but sometimes she speaks before she thinks. Luckily, it is mostly inside the house. “You know, I don’t mean it like that, but it is not entirely untrue,” she says back. It makes your dad chuckle. “Honey, we know, what you mean,” he says kindly. “But caring for your children to do well in school is not really a race thing, it’s very universal,” he explains, reminding her to see the bigger picture. You nod at that, finding it agreeable. You look up to both of them in different ways, but you definitely got your wits from your father. Unfortunately, for both you and your new neighbor, you got your clumsiness from your mom.

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A week goes by without too much of a fuss. You barely notice Jungkook next door, since he is rarely home, and it dims your worries. You try not to spend time thinking about it, but in a boring neighborhood like this one, where nothing new ever happens, it is hard not to get curious. You have seen him a couple of times, and you have already gotten a feeling of what kind of trouble he is. Yesterday you saw him smoking out of his window, despite having been told not to by his uncle. He spends most of his time out, but when he is home, he usually either lies around on his phone or plays video games. There are stacks of soda cans by his TV, and an empty pizza box on his desk. He is a mess, really, and his looks suit him. His hair is a bit long and curly, and he always wears oversized shirts and sweats. But despite it all, (and you hate yourself for admitting it) you find him damn attractive. Scolding yourself in your head might be a way of putting it off, but it all comes back to that. He is hot, you cannot lie. But you will not let yourself give in to that and be the girl with a crush on the boy next door. Not when he is clearly not the good type. You shake your head as you realize that you are thinking about him again. Just go to sleep, you tell yourself. It is late, and you rarely function with only a few hours. You have cracked your window, letting a light breeze in with the summer warmth, yet you slightly regret it, when you hear voices outside. Hushed voices that make you unable to sleep without knowing what is going on. You get up from your bed and peek out through the blinds. On their side of the hedge, you see Jungkook heading towards his window with a girl at his heels. Having left his window ajar, he can open it up enough for him to climb inside. He then turns to help her jump up and pulls her in with him. You hear her giggling, and him telling her to keep it down with a flirtatious smirk on his face. An expression far from the shy one you first encountered. You see him close the window almost entirely before turning to her. Pulling her in by her waist, pressing her against himself, he kisses her, and she kisses him back. The sight is icky to you. The tension grows between them, and when the girl moves her hands under his shirt to undress him, you decide to step back and look away. It would be really weird to watch, and you honestly do not want to. Just knowing alone makes you feel quite nauseous. You know what is about to happen, so you close your own window, hoping to block out what is next. For a second time, the sound captures Jungkook’s attention and makes him look over at you, but he cannot see you this time. He only has a feeling that he might have woken you up.

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The next day, you are home alone and decide to clean your room. To make it bearable, you put on some music and turn the volume up high, since your parents are not home to scold you for it. The music blasts through your speakers and your open window, reaching all the way into Jungkook’s room, who is trying to sleep off his late night. Following the make-out session and who-knows-what yesterday, the girl climbed back out the window and did the walk of shame home. Jungkook then finally went to sleep despite it being almost morning, and now, at noon, he is woken up way too soon by a sound much too loud for his current liking. He sits up and looks out his window to figure out where the music is coming from, and quickly, he discovers, it is you. You do not notice him as you are busy changing the sheets of your bed. You have not thought about it bothering him, so you are entirely in your own world, dancing around to your favorite tunes. Suddenly, someone rings the doorbell. You turn down the volume a bit before making your way to the front door. Opening it up, you are surprised to see him. Jungkook. “Oh, hi,” you say friendly and slightly out of breath, yet his expression stops you from smiling. “Hi, do you mind turning down your music?” Jungkook asks determinedly, barely getting his greeting out. His eyes are puffed, and his hair is messy. From his appearance and his slight impatience, you figure that you must have woken him up from his late snoozing. “Yeah, I will. Sorry about that,” you say apologetically as it was not in your intention to bother him. You give him a short smile, and it reminds him to do the same. “Thanks,” he says forgivingly before walking away. You close the door and head back to your room, adjusting the volume a bit. You notice him coming back into his room with his window cracked, sitting down on his bed. “Hey!” you say to him, making him look over at you. “Is this okay?” you ask, referring to the music. He listens for a second, and then he gives you a thumbs up. You close the window back in, and he lies down to try and sleep a bit more. Despite finding it inconvenient for him, it could just as easily have been the other way around, so no hard feelings arise.

Later that day, when you are sitting by your desk and laptop, you notice that Jungkook is finally up. As he is sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone, the door to his room is opened, and Mrs. Jeon comes in. Jungkook does not seem thrilled about hearing whatever she has to say. You can tell from the frown on his face. She sits down beside him on the bed, but he gets up, seeming frustrated. After exclaiming something, he leaves the room and then you hear their front door open and close behind him. Curious as you are, you rush to the kitchen to see him put in his earphones and walk off with a serious look on his face. You wonder what she said to him that triggered such a bad reaction. Knowing Mrs. Jeon as you do, you find it hard to imagine her being provocative or hurtful. It must be something that Jungkook does not want to talk about, but there are a million things it could be and no way of knowing which it is.

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Since your parents are taking a trip out of town, you decide to invite your best friends over for a sleepover one day. Today works for all of you, so you are setting everything up as you wait for them to get here. The music is on, the bonfire is prepared and the pizzas are ordered. You sit down with your matches to light the fire, but one match dies after the other without starting anything. It makes you sigh defeatedly, and you consider giving up. “How’s it going?” you suddenly hear him say. Looking to your left, you see Jungkook watching you from his window with an amused smile. You wonder how much of your struggle, he got to see. “Badly. For some reason, I can’t light it properly,” you confess, fighting the reddening of your cheeks. “Want help?” he asks, and you raise your brows a bit. “Yeah, sure,” you say somewhat relieved. “Give me a sec,” Jungkook then says and closes his window. He makes his way through his house and over to you, stepping out on your terrace, where you are sitting. You notice that he looks a bit neater today, wearing a button up and hair less messy. You wonder if he is going somewhere since he is dressed like this, but either way, he looks quite handsome. He squats down beside you, and you hand him the matches. Working his magic, it does not take long before a small fire is lit and growing beneath the wooden logs. “How are you so good at that?” you say amazed at his ability. It makes him smile humbly. “I know a few things,” he says without being too cocky. You find it interesting. “Well, thank you so much,” you say, and he nods in return. “Are you hosting something?” he asks, looking at you. The warm hue that the fire starts to emit kisses his skin beautifully. He looks so soft all of a sudden, making you forget his usual bad boy character. “Just a girls’ night, I guess,” you say, hoping it does not sound too silly. “Cool,” he says casually. “You’re welcome to join, if you want,” you suggest, yet the second it leaves you, you realize how it sounds. “Your girls’ night?” he asks with a smile of amusement. “Well,” you laugh a bit nervously, and Jungkook can tell, but he merely finds your offer sweet. “As tempting as it sounds, I actually have somewhere to be, so I have to take a raincheck on that one,” Jungkook answers with a grin. “That’s okay, thanks again though,” you say as he gets up. “You’re welcome,” he replies and starts walking back. Suddenly, he turns around again, making your eyes return to him. “I’m Jungkook by the way,” he adds, even though you already know. “I’m Y/N,” you say back from your place by the fire as you are poking at it with a stick. “Y/N,” he repeats with a slow nod as if to show you, he heard it. “Nice to meet you, Y/N… officially anyway,” Jungkook softly smiles, and you think, you might melt like one of the marshmallows for later. “You too,” you smile back before he leaves. Looking at the growing flames before you, you wonder if you will soon be calling him a friend.

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The night goes by pretty quickly, when sitting around a fire, roasting marshmallows and drinking wine. The three of you girls tell stories and talk about everything on your minds, including one mystery boy that has caught your attention. “Is that his room right there?” Jenn asks, pointing to his window less than six feet away from where you are sitting. “Yes, it’s a bit weird,” you say as you cuddle into your blanket. The embers might emit warmth, but the late wind is chiller now. “He can see everything I do in my room,” you add, finding it almost too intimate a thought. “That means you can see him too, right?” Sarah points out as she wiggles her brows, making you all laugh. “Well, since he had that girl over, I haven’t seen anything weird. He is basically just sleeping or watching TV,” you explain, trying to make the whole thing less dramatic. Ever since you shared the gossip with them, they have been waiting to hear more, yet hearing yourself talk about Jungkook makes you feel like a stalker. “I think it’s only fair that you get to see some skin since he saw you in your bra that first day,” Sarah says, and Jenn immediately agrees. “When he gets home, I’ll tell him to take his shirt off for you,” Jenn says, and Sarah gives her a high-five in approval. You eat your freshly melted marshmallow instead of commenting on it, not really knowing what to think. You would be embarrassed if she actually asked him to, but a part of you wants to see his reaction. A part of you wonders if he would do it for you if you asked. You internally scold yourself for your creeper-thoughts. The three of you suddenly go silent as you hear a car approaching, listening in on who it might be. The car door is opened and closed, and just as you hear his voice say goodbye, your eyes widen. “It’s him,” you say hushed, and the girls smile as they listen closer. The car drives off, and you hear him step towards his house. The idea of him near makes the three of you giggle like schoolgirls, and you hope that he does not hear you. He enters his room and turns on the light, making himself very visible to you without noticing it, since it is dark out. Jenn and Sarah both drop their jaws, seeing him. He truly is a sight for sore eyes. His window is closed, so he cannot hear the way that Jenn whisper-shouts at him to do a show like she is a girl at a male strip club. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and sighs with closed eyes as if to shed the day off of him and finally relax, totally oblivious to the three girls watching him from the sidelines. You fear that he might look out and find that he is being watched by you again, so you start collecting your stuff. “We should go inside…,” you start, but Jenn interrupts you. “Look now! Omg!” she says with a wide grin, making you return your gaze to him. You see him pulling off his shirt above his head and throwing it onto the bed, revealing his bare chest and toned arms. His wavy hair falls down over his forehead as he runs a hand over his slim waist, closing his eyes again and turning his head to crack his neck. The satisfying release shows in his face as his expression softens, and you cannot help but find it mesmerizing in a way. You no longer notice the girls beside you, quietly wooing at him to keep going. You just watch him in awe, finding him absolutely breathtaking like a piece of sculpted art. At this moment you realize that you are totally fucked. Jeon Jungkook truly is troubling. “Okay, enough,” you laugh, forcing yourself out of your addictive trance. “We should give him his privacy,” you add to that, cleaning up around you. Rising from your seat causes the girls to do the same, though they want to stay put and watch the eye candy next door. “I can’t believe, you haven’t done him yet,” Sarah chuckles bluntly, and it makes you scoff. “He’s my neighbor, not a male escort,” you state back dumbfoundedly at her crass thought. With it, you whack her on the arm, making her laugh in pain. “Okay, okay,” she surrenders. You carry the stuff inside, and the girls go get their PJs from their bags in the hall. You close the bag of the leftover marshmallows and put it in the cabinet before cleaning the used tools in the sink. Realizing you left your blanket behind, you make your way out on the terrace once more to get it. Picking it up from your seat, you lift your eyes and see Jungkook as the light is still on in his room. The bonfire is out now, making your surroundings completely dark. He would have to look closely to notice you there, so you let yourself watch him for another moment alone, thinking pretty thoughts of him. He is picking at his lip, looking to be deep in thought. He then decides to turn his gaze to peek at the window to your room, stretching his neck a bit for a better view. He is looking for you, but when he sees that your lights are off, he retracts his gaze. Nodding to himself, he tables whatever he was considering in his head and walks over to turn off the light. You realize that once his lights are off, he will be able to see you, so in panic, you rush inside with your blanket and shut the door, hiding behind the curtains. You see his room go dark, and with relief, you put a hand over your beating heart to calm it down. He did not see you. You saw him, however, and the sight brings you warmth that the blanket in your arms could not.

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The next day, after the girls have gone home, you are cleaning up the house from their visit. While running a cloth over the kitchen counter, you notice that some of the neighbors seem to be out on the street, making you curious as to why. You go outside to check yourself, finding a black smoke rising into the sky just a few streets away. You see Mr. and Mrs. Jeon standing by their garage as they look at the smoke, talking to each other about the cause of it presumably. Behind them, their front door is opened by Jungkook. He zips up his hoodie and tugs his hands in the pockets as he walks out. “What’s going on?” you hear him ask his uncle, who then explains what he knows. Jungkook makes a mildly interested expression before pulling out his earphones to untangle them. As his hands are busy, his eyes wander around to eventually land on you, but he does not catch you looking at him. He only sees you watching the sky like everyone else. After what you did yesterday and almost getting caught, you are not taking any chances. To your surprise, though, you see him walking towards you anyways out of the corner of your eye. It makes you rethink yesterday, wondering if he did actually see you guys and is coming over to scold you for invading his privacy. You cross your arms, yet try to play it cool, acting as if you are unaware of him getting closer. “Should I not have left you alone with the fire last night?” Jungkook asks you as he comes to your side. You turn to meet his eyes in panic. Shit, you think to yourself. “I-- we--,” you stutter awkwardly, not knowing what to say. The expression on your face causes Jungkook to laugh. “Relax, I know you didn’t cause it, I was joking,” he says, and you realize that he is referring to the black smoke in the sky, not your stalker-moment. “Oh, that!” you laugh relieved. “Yeah, funny,” you add with a forced chuckle. Finding your reaction a little off, Jungkook tilts his head with a confused smile. “Are you okay?” he asks, making you freeze for a second. “Yeah, I’m fine. It got a little late last night, so I’m just tired, I guess,” you play it off, and Jungkook seems to buy it. After all, he does not know you that well yet. Having gotten his earphones untangled, he sticks one in his ear and unlocks his phone to prepare his music. “Nice to see you guys getting along,” Mr. Jeon suddenly says as he comes over and puts an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders. “Hi Y/N, how are you?” he asks kindly, looking at you. Jungkook seems a bit surprised at his uncle’s sudden presence, yet comfortable enough with his closeness. “I’m good, thank you,” you smile politely. “Your parents are out of town, right?” Mr. Jeon asks, and you nod at that. “We are actually visiting some friends of ours later, so maybe since the two of you kids are both alone, Jungkook could cook you guys dinner tonight?” Mr. Jeon suggests, causing Jungkook’s brows to shoot up in surprise. “I could what?” he asks as he turns to look at his uncle directly, who only meets him with a smile. “You told me that you didn’t have plans today, so unless Y/N has, it would be silly for the two of you to cook two meals, when it could be one,” Mr. Jeon elaborates with a pad on his nephew’s shoulder. “So, do you have any plans today?” Mr. Jeon asks you. You look at Jungkook to read his face, but he does not give much away. You do not know him that well yet either. “Uh, no, not really,” you say a bit hesitantly since you are unsure of what Jungkook is thinking. Mr. Jeon smiles wider at that. “Well, then it’s settled. It will be nice for the two of you to get to know each other a bit more, being new neighbors and all,” he then says, looking mostly at Jungkook, who gives him a brief nod. “Sure,” Jungkook answers with a soft sigh. “Good then,” Mr. Jeon says happily before stepping back to his wife, leaving the two of you in the slight awkwardness, he created. “Guess I’m going grocery shopping then,” Jungkook sighs again with a smile, showing his disbelief of his uncle’s intrusion. “You really don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” you tell him, offering to let him off the hook. Jungkook shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, really. He just surprised me, that’s all,” he says, scratching his head. “Okay, good,” you smile. Finally starting his music on his phone, he locks it and slides it into his pocket. “I’ll see you later then,” Jungkook says to you as he starts walking off, and you nod in return. The black smoke has turned white, meaning the fire is out, so you head back inside the house as well.

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For the first time, you are actually nervous to go to the Jeons’ house for dinner, since Jungkook is now the one cooking. You usually make no fuss of eating there but having to be alone with Jungkook causes you to try on several outfits and a crazy amount of deodorant that you hope will fade a bit. Texting Sarah and Jenn is also a bad move since their responses are to ‘put on a slutty outfit’ and ‘bring a whip, so he knows, who’s boss’. You are not sure when your friends got so crass, but it is not helping you at all. You end up choosing a normal outfit and treat the day as any other. The most normal thing is to just be normal, so you are going with that. You knock on the front door and wait for it to be answered. As the wait drags out a bit, you tap your foot against the steps, feeling your nerves coming alive under your skin. For a second, you consider coming up with an excuse and going back home, but before you get to think of one, Jungkook answers the door. Wet and in a towel. The first thing you see is his abs, and the sight steels your words away. “Hi,” he says calmly with a smile as he is drying his hair with a second towel, looking at you as if he is not half-naked right now. You tighten your posture in slight shock, doing your best to control your face. “Uh, hi,” you say and smile wider than you should. “I’m sorry, I made you wait, but I just got out of the shower,” he explains, stepping back to allow you inside. With his back turned as he leads you in with him, you cannot help but let your eyes wander down the soft curves of his toned back. How you are seeing him like this for a second time, you do not know, but you internally thank the gods for sending you this gift. Last night was one thing, but this you would call an upgrade. Up close and within reach. However, you control yourself despite your mind wondering how it would feel to run your palm over his skin. Jungkook suddenly turns around to face you, and your eyes shoot up to meet his, hoping that he did not just catch you getting lost in the view of him. “I was just about to start dinner, would you mind helping out?” he asks, seeming unaware of your acts. You nod at his request, accepting any offer to distract your mind. He leads you to the kitchen counter. “If you could start by cutting these,” Jungkook says as he places some green onions on the cutting board. Taking a knife, he aligns them and cuts through, showing you how he wants them done. “Just like this,” he says. As he is working, your gaze slips down to watch his arms flex with the movement. Being so close to him, you can almost feel his warm skin from here. “Wanna try?” he suddenly asks, and you lift your eyes to meet him. He holds out the knife for you, and you take it from him. Jungkook steps back, allowing you to take his place, and you take over for him. “While you do that, I’ll go and put on some clothes,” he says, and you hear him leave. You frown lightly at that but determine that it is for the best. It would be pretty hard to focus on anything else if he walks around in nothing but a towel around his waist. Soon after, he comes back in a white t-shirt and shorts, covering his yet slightly damp skin. Jungkook turns on the heat beneath the pot on the stove and adds the water. While waiting for it to boil, he grabs the bottom of his white t-shirt and fans himself with it a few times to cool down. “So, was girls’ night successful?” he then asks, wanting to start a conversation with you. He says it so casually that you know, he is still oblivious, which is good. “Yeah, it was great. We talked, drank wine and roasted marshmallows,” you say. “It was pretty cozy,” you add. “Did I miss out on anything?” he then asks, giving you a look. It suddenly makes you question again what he knows. “No, not really. Nothing eventful happened,” you reply, avoiding his eyes. Jungkook nods in return. As the water boils, he adds the ramen. “What about your night? Was it successful?” you ask, wanting to move the focus onto him. It causes him to bite at his lip in thought. “Uh, well,” he starts, seeming hesitant to answer. “Could have gone better,” he says with a sigh followed by a friendly smile at you. “Sorry about that,” you say apologetically. He shakes his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he answers. Finishing up the cutting, you put down the knife and show it to him. “Perfect,” he says and asks for them. You hand him the cutting board with all the vegetables, and he slides them into the pot along with the seasoning. “Have you tried Korean ramen before?” he asks you when you peek down into the pot. “I’ve had instant noodles, but never like this,” you say. Standing so close allows you to smell it, and you sigh with content. “It smells so good,” you tell him with excitement, and it makes him grin. “I’m not the greatest cook, but I make good ramen, promise you that,” Jungkook states confidently. Seeing your positive response makes him feel less stressed. His worries about you not enjoying the food fades away. After setting the table, you sit down across from each other with the food between you. The steam rises up, and the scent of the dish makes your mouth water. Despite having been over for dinner at the Jeons’ before, they have always made sure to make food that you and your parents are used to. You have only tasted their Korean dishes a few times growing up, but ramen has not been one of them. Therefore, you cannot wait to give it a taste. Jungkook digs in first, and you follow his lead. Luckily, you know how to use chopsticks, so you do not feel entirely out of your comfort zone. “This is so good,” you say honestly when tasting it, and Jungkook immediately lights up with pride. He bows his head thankfully. “How did you learn to make this?” you ask before filling your mouth. “My mom has a very time-consuming job, so I’ve had to make myself dinner a lot,” he answers. You nod while you chew. “Ramen is pretty easy to make, so I’ve practiced it to perfection,” he states. You smile at his confidence, finding it endearing. “What about your dad? What does he do?” you ask. The question seems to change the look on his face. “I don’t know, really. He moved out years ago, and I don’t see him anymore,” Jungkook says bittersweetly. “That sucks,” you say back, and it makes him meet your eyes. Being so used to people feeling sorry for him, he likes the way you say it. You show that you understand but without pity. It makes him want to smile. “Yeah, it does,” he agrees with a soft chuckle. You keep on eating as he watches you, determining whether or not to share further. Wanting to test the waters, he decides to give it a shot. “Actually, I was meeting up with him yesterday, so that’s why I couldn’t hang out,” Jungkook explains, and you furrow your brows lightly, remembering his mood about it earlier. “He didn’t show up, though,” Jungkook adds. It makes you sigh with a frown that tells him you get what he is trying to say. “Well, then next time I offer you to join girls’ night, you say yes,” you tell him, making him smile. “Deal,” he grins, and the mood lightens.

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Weeks pass, and after having eaten dinner together, Jungkook and you have gotten much closer, and things are no longer as awkward between the two of you. From small chats by the mailboxes to late night walks around the neighborhood together, the two of you shape a friendship pretty quickly. You tell each other things that no one else knows, and Jungkook finally feels comfortable sharing more personal stuff with you, mainly about his parents and their terrible split. It is casual between the two of you but as natural as such a friendship can be. One day, when he is mowing the Jeons’ lawn, Jungkook offers your parents to mow yours as well. You bring him a soda, and you talk for a bit, finding out that you are both going to be at Katy’s party. The party that arrives soon after. Katy lives on the street as well and has been a close friend of yours growing up. You choose a black outfit for the night and do your hair and makeup before heading to her place. Your parents are both working night shifts, so they will not be home until tomorrow morning, meaning you can get plastered drunk and come home without being scolded for it. The party is already quite wild when you arrive, yet the first thing you do is look for him. You chose to come a bit late on purpose, hoping to find him waiting for you. However, you find a sight that is quite disappointing instead. Jungkook is sitting outside on a lawn chair, drinking a beer and smiling at a girl in a short dress. She is laughing at something he says, and it seems to amuse him. It confuses you, but you convince yourself that you have misread him. He wants to be friendly neighbors with you, nothing more. Returning inside, you shake it off and turn to your friends instead. You dance, listen to music and drink everything you can get your hands on. It does not take long before you reach your capacity and find yourself on wobbling legs with an arm around Katy’s shoulders. Katy is drunk too, which means that she is not any help in terms of balance, and you soon lose your grip and fall on your butt. You huff and wipe your hair out of your face when you feel a pair of strong arms lifting you back up on your feet. He turns you around to face him, looking at you with worry. “Are you okay?” Jungkook asks over the music and pulls your hair behind your ear with one hand as the other keeps you balanced. “Hi,” you say softly, smiling at him with stars in your eyes. Having him look back at you makes you forget the girl he was with. You just feel really happy that he is here. “Let me take you home, okay?” he says more as an order than a question. He holds you against him with an arm around your waist, leading you out of the house and onto the street. It is only a few houses down from yours, but the music fades pretty quickly, making it more convenient to talk. “Thank you for saving me,” you say, placing your head against him as you are walking, which makes it harder to do. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook chuckles while trying to keep you walking straight. He gets you inside the empty house and sits you down on your bed. “You shouldn’t drink so much,” he says yet finds it utterly amusing to watch. He kneels down before you and removes your shoes. “You should drink more,” you say back to be funny. As he tries to get you to lay down, you suddenly shoot up. “Wait! I have to remove my makeup,” you exclaim and grab your products from the drawer of your desk, where you keep them. You grab a cotton pad and douse it in makeup remover before dragging it across your face. Jungkook watches you struggle with it, smearing your makeup out instead of cleaning it off. “Come here,” he then says and leads you back to sit on the bed again. He sits down beside you and takes the pad from your hand. He has never done this before, but it seems pretty straight forward. “Close your eyes,” he says softly, and you do as you are told. Gripping the cotton pad properly, he starts to gently wipe your face with it, removing the black patches you have caused by doing it yourself. Your breathing relaxes in his hands, feeling him comforting you. Jungkook is so focused on the task that his breathing starts to match yours. “There you go,” he says quietly as he is finished. You open your eyes again and smile at him, causing him to smile back. “Now, lie down,” he says, and you do that too. He leaves the room for a second but returns with a bottle of water and some pills for the morning. Placing it on your desk within reach, he sighs as there is nothing else to do. “Get some sleep, Y/N,” he says and steps back. “Jungkook, wait!” you say, sitting up and grabbing at his shirt. He looks back at you with raised brows from the surprise, when he is halted in his step. You pull him towards you, and he ends up at the edge of your bed with your hands on him. He squats down before you to get a better look at your face, while your hands move up to find place around his neck. Oddly enough, he is comfortable with that. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you say, and he nods. “It’s okay,” he says. Jungkook is unsure of what you are doing, but he decides to go along with it. He has nowhere else, he needs to be. Suddenly, you sigh with a frown, and he waits for you to say why. “How are you so hot?” you ask out loud in frustration. Jungkook does not pick up on it at first. “Well, it’s pretty warm out, it’s summer,” he answers with a chuckle, finding the question odd but figuring that you are referring to the touch of his skin. “No, that’s not what I mean…,” you pout as he misunderstands. “I mean sexy, how are you so sexy, Jungkook?” you ask with your hands gently rubbing at his neck, and he is taken aback by the act, almost losing balance. It causes a blush to dust across his face and make him red. “You- you think, I’m sexy?” he manages to get out. The thought alone makes him smile, yet it goes unnoticed by you. “Of course, I do. And you’re sweet, too. And funny. And you cook amazing ramen,” you go on as your drunken state leaves you no filtering. Jungkook starts to laugh with his eyes crinkling. You remove your hands from him and pull back, finding it rude. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” you pout further, scooting back on the bed to sit against the headboard. “I’m not, you’re right. I think it’s really sweet,” Jungkook smiles and moves to sit on the bed to face you. “Do you like me?” you ask, meeting his eyes. “I do,” he says. “Would you kiss me?” you ask again. This time, he takes a second to think. “Let me tell you this,” he says and sits closer to you. So close that you feel the mattress dip beneath you and shift the weight towards him. With his hand, he cups your face and makes you look at him. His thumb gently moves across your bottom lip as his eyes follow its movement, studying it up close. Picking back up his eyes, you are afraid to blink as you might miss it. You hold your breath, and suddenly, you feel sober beneath his gaze. “Tell me all of this again tomorrow,” Jungkook states. “and I’ll kiss you then,” he says with a soft smile at his lip. He then pulls back and gets up, allowing your breath to return to you. Standing up, he takes one last look at you before he goes. “Get some sleep, Y/N,” he says again, repeating himself from before. He then leaves you without words to speak and lips yet unkissed.

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

Your hangover is not too bad. You expected worse, but the pills work pretty fast and all you feel is slight discomfort. It might have something to do with your distracted mind. All you can think about is last night, the things he did, the words he said. You cannot believe that you confessed to him in such a cheesy way, but then just as the embarrassment tries to kick in, you hear him making his promise to you. Jungkook promised to kiss you. You sit up in your bed and look over at his room through your window to see if he is there. He is not. He is gone, and his bed looks untouched. Weird, you think to yourself. He usually sleeps in, especially after a late night. It seems off. Getting up and out of bed, you decide to go and bring the mail in. That way, you can maybe see him in their kitchen. To your disappointment, he is not there either. You consider going over and asking for him, but you do not want to seem too clingy, so you decide not to. You bring the mail in and try to put the thought of him aside for now. Hours later, his room is still empty, and you have no clue of where he is. Most of all, it worries you. You cannot help but think if he maybe went back to the party last night to the girl in the short dress. You start questioning his promise, thinking it might just have been a delay. His way of rejecting you, hoping you would not remember the next morning. But you do remember, and the thought of him having been insincere with you provokes your hangover forth. You feel sick and choose to try sleeping it off.

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

“Don’t you know how worried we’ve been!?” you hear someone exclaim, waking you up. You check the clock on your desk. It is 3.15pm. You look towards Jungkook’s room as the yelling is coming from there. You see him, sitting on his bed with his head bowed as Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand beside him, Mrs. Jeon with her arms crossed. “You can’t just stay out all night and not let us know!” Mrs. Jeon says. “Your uncle has been worried sick! We both have!” she adds to that. It makes you sit up, looking over at them, and your heart drops. In a way, you are happy to see him safe, but you also feel bad that he is getting yelled at. But knowing he has not been home at all, does not put your worries to rest. Where could he have been? you think. After a few minutes, the Jeons exit Jungkook’s room, shutting the door behind them and leaving him be. He runs both hands through his hair in frustration, looking at the floor. You are not sure what you should do. You want to go to him, but what if you are the last person, he wants to see right now? You cannot know for sure. As if he reads your mind, you meet eyes with him when he lifts his head, looking straight at you through the window and across the yard. You sit still, looking at him and waiting for him to decide what he wants. Then, he gets up and walks towards the window. Standing in front of it and looking at you, his shoulders slump. With a sigh, he reaches out and pulls down his blinds, shutting you out. It hurts. It hurts a lot.

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

The next few weeks are hard to get through. His blinds are always down, making you unable to see him and check if he is okay. You hear nothing. You pass him once on the street, coming home from Jenn’s just as he leaves, but he says nothing. He looks at you, then looks away. Your parents tell you that he scared the Jeons by being out all night without telling them, and that he has been moody ever since. Other than that, you have no idea what is going on, and you definitely have no idea what you did wrong. But clearly, you did something, since he is avoiding you like this. You try to shake him off, focusing on getting ready for school to start again, but it is still a month away. It is merely an effort to keep yourself busy, but the effort fails. Sarah thinks you should get a rebound guy, but you and Jungkook were never even a thing. He is not an ex. He is just the troubled boy next door. You almost manage to convince yourself of that until one night, when things suddenly change. You lie in bed, trying to fall asleep when you hear tapping against your window. At first, you think it is the rain that causes the noise, but when it plays a little melody, you realize the sound is not random at all. Sitting up in bed, you see it is him, Jungkook. He is standing outside in the rain, waiting for you to open the window and hear him out. You get up and open the window, making him step back to make room. Once the window is opened up, he can stand beneath it like it is a glass canopy. Even with him standing outside, he is still tall enough to look you right in the eyes. “What are you doing? You scared me,” you scold him. His black t-shirt is drenched, and his wavy hair is dripping from the tips. “I’m sorry, but it couldn’t wait. I’ll just get cold feet,” Jungkook says apologetically. You cross your arms at that. “Your feet look pretty cold to me,” you say, gesturing to his bare feet in the wet grass. Looking down, it makes him laugh. “I see your point,” he says with a grin, meeting your eyes. “What do you want, Jungkook?” you ask, not feeling like small talking in the middle of the night. “I want to apologize,” he says. The way he starts biting at his lip suggests that he is nervous despite his cool façade. “Will you please let me?” he asks, adding it before you speak. With a sigh, you nod. “After the party, when I took you here, you asked me to kiss you, and I didn’t because you were drunk. I really wanted to, trust me, but I didn’t want to take advantage of you,” he starts explaining, and you roll your eyes. “I’m not mad at you for that,” you say, but he interrupts you. “No, but you see, that isn’t like me at all. Normally if girls ask me to kiss them, I do. If they wake up the next morning and regret it, that’s their problem, not mine,” he says. “But with you, I didn’t want to take that chance. I didn’t want to ruin things with you, so I decided to wait,” he adds. You look downwards with a frown, still not convinced. Jungkook keeps going, hoping to make you understand. “After leaving you, I realized what I was doing, and I got really spooked. Seeing my parents split up like they did, made me cynical about love, and feeling these things for you scared me,” Jungkook explains further, and you sense his sincerity. “But how does that explain being an asshole to me over the last few weeks?” you ask, still finding it unsolved. It makes him sigh deeply as he looks at your face. He sees the hurt in your eyes, and it hurts him too. “I’m sorry, okay?” he apologizes, and you hear the crack in his voice. Looking back up at him, you see that he is tearing up. “I needed time to think things through properly and seeing you would just make me want you more. I tried to not make it about what I want,” he says. He is trying to explain things without crying though it seems to be hard to control. You did not expect him to be this emotional, but it makes you adore him a whole lot more. “I really am sorry, Y/N,” he repeats. You cup his face in your hands and use your thumbs to wipe his cheeks from the leftover rain still coating them. It makes him tear up a bit more, and you smile. “Don’t cry, please,” you plead him, and he starts laughing. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “And stop apologizing now,” you add, making his eyes crinkle. You notice how cold his cheeks feel, and it makes you pull back a bit. “Jungkook, you’re cold. Please come inside,” you say with worry. He nods at that, and you step away to allow him room to climb in. Once he is inside, he closes the window behind him. He pushes his hair back to stop it from dripping on your floor. The act shows off his toned arms, and he notices you ogling at him. “Do you mind if I take off my shirt? It’s really wet,” Jungkook says, and you nod without words. Pulling off his t-shirt, he reveals his bare chest to you. He hangs it on your radiator to dry, and you watch him in adoration. Looking back at your reddened face, he smiles at the sight. Jungkook then steps over to you and pulls you towards him by your waist. You stand flush against him as he cups your face and looks into your eyes. “Ask me again,” he says. Having been taken by surprise, you are speechless. His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, and the words leave your mouth all by themselves. “Would you kiss me?” you ask with flushed cheeks, and finally, he does.

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atamascolily · 5 years ago

Text

The cover of Junior Jedi Knights #5: Vader's Fortress by Rebecca Moesta features Anakin and Artoo dodging blaster fire while Tahiri does a bad-ass leap and Darth Vader looms in the background. So I guess this next field trip is to wherever the hell Vader's fortress is located... and given that this book was published in 1997, I'm pretty sure it isn't Mustafar.

Readers, I squealed with delight when I realized they were actually going to Bast Castle on Vjun.

[cut for length and discussion of Dark Empire]

Vjun's first appearance was in Dark Empire, but it's the main setting for Sean Stewart's Clone War-era novel Yoda: Dark Rendezvous (2004), which happens to be one of the best Legends books ever. Period. Drop everything and go read it now. Stewart's Vjun is a Dark side Gothic horror wonderland full of crumbling castles, crazed nobility, and flesh-eating moss. I love it, and you will, too.

Vjun also appears in various video games, with no less than Kyle Katarn describing it as "a big, dead, important rock". High praise, indeed.

Oh, and if you're curious, Wookiepeedia says Vjun is "pronounced as "VAH-JUHN" in Star Wars: Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy, but in Star Wars Battlefront: Elite Squadron, it is pronounced as "VUHN"".... so anything goes, really.

Anyway, so having dealt with his heritage by going to Dagobah in the last book, the logical next step is for Anakin to actually go and visit Vader's castle in person. You know, exposure therapy. Right?

Okay, let's see what the text says.

Anakin, Tahiri and Uldir are hanging out on the landing pad on Yavin IV waiting for Tionne to show up. Tahiri loves Tionne so much, she doesn't mind waiting around, and she wishes she could have gone with Tionne on this latest trip to Borgo Prime and I just... I love their relationship, okay?

Tionne has a new ship - the Lore Seeker! Anakin uses the Force to determine it's in great shape despite its odd appearance. (It has sails to harness solar wind, lol!)

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” the Jedi instructor said with a smile. “I thought so, too. But because the ship was so old, I was able to buy it from a Randoni trader for a song.”

“How much did you really pay?” Uldir asked.

Tionne shrugged.

“Just a song. Really. While I was looking for Jedi legends, I came across an ancient song that told about the very firstRan - doni merchants and the vaults where they hid their wealth. The trader was so interested that she offered me the Lore Seeker in exchange for the song. Now come help me unload my cargo, and I’ll show you some of my other treasures.”

DID I MENTION I LOVE HER???

Also, Tionne got some other stuff, too:

“You may carry this Twi’lek story-chain, Tahiri-each link tells a different part of a story. Please be very careful with it. Uldir, here is a holodisk. It holds a recording of some very old Jedi songs. Anakin, would you please carry this scroll? I’ll take the tapestry.”’

AHHHHHH, I LOVE THIS.

But Tionne found out something else important "in an old fortress on a planet called Vjun" and this is where I started SCREAMING because I know exactly where this is going and this is such a great set-up - especially since none of the kids have a clue.

Of course, they want to go, and Tionne's trying to be diplomatic about it.

“Does anyone live in the fortress?” Anakin asked.

Tionne shook her head.

“Not anymore.”

“Well, if it’s really that important, don’t you think you ought to go find it?” Tahiri said. “And don’t forget that you promised to take me with you this time.”

“I’d like to go along, too,” Anakin added.

“Yeah, it sounds like fun,” Uldir said.

Tionne frowned.

“I’m not sure Master Skywalker will approve. It could be a bit dangerous."

LOLOLOLOL, since when has that ever stopped anybody in this series?? But according to Tionne, the danger isn't Sith ghosts or anything like that - it's other people trying to snag a certain treasure first.

And what is this special object? the kids want to know.

Tionne’s face lit with a wondering smile, and she gave a happy sigh.

“It’s Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber!”

ITS A MACGUFFIN! Also, given all of Vader’s issues with Obi-wan, the fact that he kept his old master’s lightsaber in his hidden Gothic Drama Castle is... something. But I digress.

Cut to Luke, being Luke.

Luke Skywalker, dressed in a comfortable black flightsuit, sat on the stone floor in the room where he meditated and did his office work. At the moment, though, Luke was not meditating. Before him in the center of the room stood his barrel-shaped blue and white droid, ArtooDetoo. It was time for Artoo’s routine cleaning. Anakin’s older sister Jaina often helped Luke with this chore, but the Jedi Master didn’t mind doing it himself. He actually found it relaxing. With his tools neatly laid out on the floor and fresh packets of lubricant beside him, Master Skywalker opened ArtooDetoo’s front panels and got to work.

After checking the droid’s numerous electrical connections, Luke added a few gadgets and upgrades Jaina had scrounged up for Artoo: a retractable mirror attachment, a power booster for the comm unit, and a new focusing lens for the hologram projector.

I'm sure NONE of these upgrades will come in handy later on in the book. Nope. Nope. Nope. Move along, nothing to see here, just a boy and his bro-bot.

Ikrit is hanging out on top of Artoo's head during all of this, when there's a knock at the door. Luke asks him to open the door and Ikrit DOES and I don't know why I find this so adorable, but I totally do. More of this, please.

Luke looked up from the packet of slippery lubricant he held in his hand, then smiled when he saw who his visitors were.

“Come in,” he said, “all of you.”

His words seemed to open an invisible dam, because people and noises instantly flooded into his quiet room. Luke laughed as everyone tried to talk to him at once.

“Master Skywalker, I have wonderful news,” Tionne said. “You’ll never guess in a million years,” Tahiri added.

“Can I go with them?” Anakin asked.

“Yeah, me too!” Uldir said.

News of Obi-wan's lightsaber makes Luke have all kinds of Feels (and a handy flashback for those who have forgotten the movies). Luke's like, Oh, yeah, Bast Castle, I've been there before back in Dark Empire when things got weird, and Anakin FREAKS OUT. Tionne's like, huh, maybe that's why my contact said only family had a right to claim the lightsaber then.

Tionne wants Luke to come with her, but Luke is meeting with Leia for pressing NR business, so Anakin volunteers to go as the family rep. I love that Luke looks at Ikrit first, and only says okay when Ikrit nods. Of course Uldir wants to come too, and Luke is about to say no, but Tionne's like "he's just going to stow away, so you might as well and the cargo hold on my ship is too small for him plus our stuff" so Luke caves. DID I MENTION HE'S A SOFTIE?? And with Artoo and Ikrit to help, Luke feels good about it, but again, he insists on the parental permission first.

[Oh, no, I just realized that Luke might not want to go back to Vjun after all the traumatic shit that went down in Dark Empire, and that's ALSO horrifying to contemplate. Like, it's not dangerous anymore, so he's okay with sending Anakin there with supervision, but he might not be eager to re-visit it? MY HEART.]

We skip that scene, though, and jump immediately to everyone in the Lore Seeker, and Tionne teaches them about lightsabers. Nomi Sunrider is namedropped (queen!) but overall lightsabers are reified, and I don't know how I feel about that tbh, even though they are admittedly SUPER COOL LASER SWORDS BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ.

Fortunately, Ikrit's there to say "Not All Jedi," since I am not, which catches Tionne off guard, since she didn't know he was a Jedi master. Tionne is apologetic about treating Ikrit like a pet, but Uldir continues to be a jerk, especially when Ikrit starts sharing his own personal trauma. And then Ikrit declaims about Anakin and Tahiri's powers, but graciously includes Uldir once Uldir pokes him about it.

The skies of Vjun are stormy, so it's a bumpy ride down. They land outside the castle instead of on the landing pad at the top because the weather is so awful. Anakin did his homework, and explains the situation (Dark Empire recap!):

“Did Uncle Luke tell you anything about the fortress itself?” Anakin asked.

“I don’t know much about it.”

“Well, I found out as much as I could before we left. Apparently Vader built Bast Castle as one of his private strongholds; he was a powerful man. After both he and Emperor Palpatine died, some of the Emperor’s followers brought a copy of Palpatine’s body here-a clone. This second Emperor was defeated too. Since then, the fortress has been abandoned, as far as we know.”

“I still don’t get it,” Uldir said to Anakin. “Why would your grandfather choose to build in such a desolate place?”

Oh, you sweet summer child.

They spy another shuttle, and Tahiri is forced to wear shoes again so they can climb up in the rain. It's basically the Stairs of Minas Morgul from LOTR, only the rain is turning to sleet. Artoo hates stairs and Ikrit rescues him when he falls off - but he can hack the door open, so that's good. The hall has a giant, larger-than-life statue of Darth Vader toppled over on the floor, because... drama.

Then the laser fire starts, and everybody ducks for cover. Artoo uses his newly-installed reviewed mirror to deflect the laster bolts, so they can disarm the automatic security system. Tionne steps in with her lightsaber when Artoo gets shot, and she and Ikrit start tossing random objects to block them while the kids race for the control panels and it's epic. The statue explodes and Artoo manages to hack the system right before he powers down.

Uldir clapped one hand down on Anakin’s shoulder. “Not half bad for a kid,” he said.

Quiet, you condescending fuck. Yes, I know, he's like 14, but he's still obnoxious as hell here.

Anyway, they repair Artoo, except he can't climb any more stairs (I'm so confused how he did it earlier, but okay), and they debate whether to split the party. The smart answer is always "No," but they eventually do anyway, because plot. Tahiri's just happy not to wear shoes. You'll be happy to know that the bathrooms still work. This whole thing feels like an RPG dungeon crawl and I'm HERE FOR IT.

Tahiri notices the floor's texture shifts and that turns out to be a clue and I LOVE THIS. There's a secret pit trap full of spkes, and then suddenly they're attacked by monsters. But eventually, the others find them and deduce that they're holograms. Anakin IDs himself to a door and it opens into a secret chamber... and then this happens:

At the same moment, a puff of smoke erupted in the doorway, and a dark-haired man with a neat beard, tawny eyes, and a deep purple cloak stood before them. The man threw back his head and laughed, although Anakin couldn’t see what was so funny.

“The powerful Mage of Exis Station thanks you,” he said. “I would never have found the lightsaber without your help.” He snatched the weapon from Tionne’s hand. “But I’ll take it now.”

Tahiri starts pestering this guy with questions and he is startled enough to admit he's the Mighty Orloc. Tahiri realizes he's a stage magician, but even so, he manages to open a trapdoor, sending Tionne and Ikrit elsewhere. The kids rush him, but there's smoke and when it clears, Orloc has vanished.

Ikrit and Tionne are fine, and they start looking to rejoin the kids, who are searching for them and/or Orloc. Artoo and Uldir take a tunnel while Tahiri and Anakin go up stairs. Everyone keeps tossing the stale Imperial ration bars they picked up earlier to test for traps, and the RP gamer in me approves.

“What’s this?” Tahiri asked, pointing to a raised platform that held a huge tube made of black plasteel. Wires and hoses snaked out from the cylinder in all directions. She ran a hand along its smooth side and found some sort of control panel.

“This looks like the tubes they use to bury dead people in space,” Anakin said.

It's actually Vader's bedroom! They find a little hidden hologram of a young Luke and I just... can't even...

Anakin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The little hologram of a young Luke Skywalker turned in a slow circle, so that they could see it from every angle.

...Anakin felt a lump form in his throat. “My mom keeps holograms of me and Jacen and Jaina on her desk at work, and Dad has one of me and the twins in the Millennium Falcon. I think Darth Vader was just doing the same thing.”

“So maybe he wasn’t all bad,” Tahiri said in a soft voice.

Anakin starts to feel better about coming to Bast Castle, which is good, because he has Deep-Seated Issues that need to be resolved.

Meanwhile, Uldir sees the lightsaber as a magical talisman that will help him become a Jedi. He abandons Artoo and confronts Orloc, who draws the blade on him. Orloc offers to teach Uldir his powers if he'll come with him. Orloc's looking for the Holocron in Vader's private quarters, and Uldir is tempted, but ultimately turns him down because he realizes Orloc is a fraud.

Anakin and Tahiri find Orloc and Uldir and Tahiri slides down a pole to confront him. Orloc attacks her with the lightsaber. Tionne and Ikrit show up, and Artoo uses a high-frequency blast to distract Orloc long enough for Ikrit to yank the lightsaber with the Force. Orloc disappears, and Uldir mentions the Holocron in Vader's private quarters. So Anakin and Tahiri take them back there.

Tionne's like, let's GTFO, but Uldir suggests they test it, which is a mistake, but Tionne agrees. OF COURSE Orloc comes back and snags it. They chase Orloc through the castle, and there's a lot of trap door shenanigans, but ultimately Artoo helps save the day and they get the holocron back, even though Orloc conveniently escapes.

(Maybe I've been watching too much Scooby-Doo, but I honestly expected Orloc to say "And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids and your talking [lagomorph]!" ...maybe in the next book?)

Ikrit suggests they use the ships in the hangar to fly down to the Lore Seeker instead of walking. Anakin suggests Ikrit keeps the ship, since he seems to enjoy piloting, and I don't know how Ikrit is piloting this thing since he's a lagomorph, but it makes him happy, and they all make it back to Yavin in two ships without incident, which means it's time for the inspirational moral!

“It feels good to be back,” he said with a sigh. Tahiri giggled. “That was certainly more of an adventure than I had bargained for.”

Tionne looked at her two students.

“Are you sorry you came with me?”

Anakin shook his head.

“The trip was worth making. I learned some interesting things about Darth Vader.”

“I learned to trust the Force and not just my eyes and ears,” Tahiri said.

“And we did find a lightsaber and a Holocron,” Anakin said.

“And a new ship for Ikrit,” Tahiri added. “So I think we’re glad we came along, but it may be a while before we go looking for adventures again.”

HAHAHAHA, right, kids. You just keep thinking that.

Ikrit names his ship the Sunrider after Nomi Sunrider, because he, too, stans a legend. Anakin and Tahiri ask if they can take the turbolift up to the Great Temple when Luke starts walking up the outside stairs, and Luke has NO IDEA WHY THEY HATE STAIRS, and... on that note, the book ends, with Luke being VERY confused. [I like that Moesta remembers the Great Temple has outside stairs, but... THE LAYOUT STILL MAKES NO SENSE!!!]

So, I don't know how to feel about this book. PROS: I love the character details with Luke, Ikrit, Tionne and Tahiri, and I like how all of the adults continue to be responsible while still allowing opportunities for the children to be competent and show initiative. It's great to see Bast Castle, and the whole thing has the feel of a classic RPG dungeon crawl. Yay for Artoo saving the day ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS, lol.

CONS: Uldir is annoying, and I wish he'd stop being such a jerk. None of the characters have ever played RPGs and it shows in their lack of genre-savvy. And I guess we'll see Orloc again in the next book, because... it feels like there wasn't much resolution of that particular plot in this book... no resolution to who Orloc actually is, or what or why. I feel like this book is part one of a two-episode plot, and I wasn't expecting that, but okay.

It's unclear if Obi-wan's lightsaber has any further plot significance or if it's just a macguffin. Ditto the holocron. But given the next book is Kenobi's Blade, I suspect Orloc's going to try and snag both, and Uldir is going to have a Not-So-Secret Test of Character about it. (To be fair, he passed the one in this book, so he's not all bad, but he's so obnoxious, it's challenging for me to give him credit where it's due.)

This book also kinda sorta falls into the "Jedi lightsaber fetish" trope, which I hate. Don't get me wrong, I love the laser swords and they are freaking awesome, but I hate how everybody latches onto "Jedi = laser sword" business as a symbol of identity. I know, I know, Star Wars is really ambivalent about whether the Jedi are Space!Samurai or Space!Monks, and I just... lean more towards the latter than the former, I guess?? But like I said, the lightsaber is more of a macguffin here, and Ikrit at least lampshades the issue a little bit, so I feel better about it.

Also, it just occurred to me it's unclear whether Tahiri hates shoes, sand, or stairs more, lol.

#star wars legends #junior jedi knights #book reviews #darth vader gothic drama castle

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shreddedparchment · 6 years ago

Text

To Be Seen Extra

380 Years Seen

03/23/2019

Pairing: Thor x Reader Word Count: 17,796

*Masterpost in Notes Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, language, angst, fluff

A/N: Man, oh man! I’m sorry this is so long but this is definitely the conclusion that they deserve and I’m glad I gave it. Also, please be very kind because I just finished writing it now and read it through once because I am exhausted and have made only small fixes so if you spot something, just ignore it for now? I’m sorry! xoxo If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. This is truly the end for this story. I hope you all have loved it as much as I have. I’m sad to see them go. Enjoy!

*The kids will take after Thor and the Asgardian line primarily in looks to keep the reader’s ethnicity flexible. Just consider Thor’s gene’s too strong to be influenced?

Oh man, this never gets any easier for Ben. In fact, each time he has to approach you he gets so nervous that on a few occasions, he’s spontaneously summoned some magic and scared the shit out of you.

The worst it’s ever gotten was that one time he chased you into the corner of an alley and with you crying your eyes out brought you back to him. It always hurts for Ben, those weeks, days, hours, or minutes when you don’t remember being his mom. It always makes him remember the day you first left him. He’d told you goodbye, Dad sitting on your left side, while he and Rosie held onto your soft and withered right hand.

It had been terribly sad to watch you fade away. You’d lived a long life—for a human—and gently drifted to sleep to never wake up again.

Rosie had been inconsolable for weeks and Dad, well, Dad had holed himself up in your shared room. For the next year it was almost as if he weren’t even on Earth. People wondered why Thor hadn’t been seen in a year when he’d been so present all those years before.

The only consolation had been his few friends, those still alive.

Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper had passed away a few years before as had many of the other human Avengers leaving behind various descendants and an ageless Vision, Bruce—though really, Bruce’s aging is more complicated than Ben ever realized as a kid—Steve, and Bucky.

For that empty year when Dad didn’t know what to do with himself with you gone, Uncle Steve had given him the most comfort. Sometimes Ben had stood outside the door, listening to them talk about everything from missions to funny party memories.

Ben was surprised one day to hear them talking about you. They both sounded very sad and Uncle Steve asked Dad a strange question that for a few very confusing moments, Ben didn’t understand.

“Did she ever do that ear thing with you?” Uncle Steve asks gently, cautious with his query.

Thor huffs a light laugh. “Do you mean that thing where she grabs hold of your earlobe and very softly massaged it in a clockwise motion?”

“Yeah.” Uncle Steve’s voice is lighter, relaxed as the subject doesn’t seem to be off limits.

“You said it had only happened once?” Thor asks, curious.

“Yeah. We only slept together once but I was here in the middle of the night often, to help with Ben. We only crossed that line once, but I held her many times. I…I’m sorry, Thor, if talking about this-?”

“No, no. It’s quite alright. I wasn’t here. Y/N and I did not start well. She told me after Rosie was born that things ran a bit more deeply between you two for a while. I have no one to blame but myself for what transpired. I was the one that left her.”

Ben’s heart pounds as he wonders whether he should be listening at the door to this particular conversation. This isn’t like the others. These aren’t happy memories or funny stories of your time here with them. This is serious and what was Dad’s fault? When the hell had he ever left you?

“You loved her.” Thor acknowledges. “I made that happen.”

“I did love her. Not the way you did. Not as strongly and she never even came close to loving me the way she loved you but you’re right. I was there for her. She needed someone to invest in and I felt so guilty about what I’d said to you that I threw myself at her. I wanted to help.”

“I’m glad that you did. I am glad that she was not truly alone in that time.”

“I miss that ear thing she used to do.” Uncle Steve admits sadly with a gentle fondness in his tone.

“As do I.”

“But you got to live with her Thor. You had her for a long time. For us humans that is.”

Thor sighs heavily. “I know. And I am grateful. She loved me passionately. She gave me two beautiful children. They’re both grown now but I can see her in their eyes. She looks at me through them and chastises me for retreating from the world.”

“Then get out of here. Go outside. Fly to Norway and visit with your people. Or just go to some far-off planet, just get out of this room, Thor. She wouldn’t want you sitting in here moping.”

Ben agrees with Uncle Steve. He loves his dad, but he’s been cooped up in that room too long. He comes down to eat but then he comes back up to mourn.

“I just miss her so much. I miss her voice. I can hear her calling me stubborn and a coward for hiding in here but when I turn to argue she is not there.” Thor pauses for so long that Ben thinks maybe he and Uncle Steve have fallen into one of their famous comfortable silences, but then a sniffle rips the silence. “I lived for fifteen hundred years before I met her but now, I don’t know how to go on living without her.”

Ben’s heart breaks as he hears the hitch in Dad’s voice. He’d seen him cry the day you left them. A few heavy tears accompanied with soft loving smiles as you stared into his blue eyes and then shut them forever. This isn’t that. This is pure, heaving, sobbing.

Dad…

“Thor…” Uncle Steve says gently.

Ben listens to his dad cry for what feels like an hour. The room goes silent after that for a few minutes before heavy feet walk into the bathroom and then back towards the bed where Thor likes to sit.

“Have you told Ben yet?” Uncle Steve asks.

When Dad answers again, his voice is strong again, powerful but soft.

“I only came across the information four months ago. I did not want to bring it up until I was sure.”

“And are you? Will it work?” Uncle Steve asks hopefully.

“I am. There is only one way to know for sure, but all signs point to it working. I will need Ben as I cannot summon the magic required. Rosie is still not strong enough, but Ben has always shown such prowess.”

“He’ll help, Thor. No questions. He’s Ben. He loved Y/N more than anyone.”

Help? Help with what?

Dad laughs, pulling Ben out of his confusion. “Yes. He was always very protective over her. Did I ever tell you about the time he kicked me?”

“No.” Uncle Steve says with a chuckle. “When you first got back?”

“Yes. Y/N began crying, emotional from watching me with Ben and also because she was angry at me for leaving her in the first place and then trying to romance her so quickly.”

There’s that leaving thing again. Ben can only remember you and Dad together. When had he left you?

“Somehow Ben knew that I was the source of her sorrow and he marched straight up to me and kicked my leg. It was piercing. Even at three years old his veins coursed with strength. He was always so careful with her. I could see it in his expression when he was around her, always so gentle and careful in his touch. I had never and have never seen anything like the relationship that she and Ben shared.”

Uncle Steve chuckles once more. “Ben…he was shaped by your absence. I know he doesn’t remember it. He was still a baby, but his heart is shaped around the effect your leaving Y/N had on her. To make up for it, he was always trying to shield her, protect her. He’ll do it, Thor.”

“Shall we ask?” Dad says in a mock whisper. “Come in, son.”

Ben’s cheeks flush in embarrassment as he pushes the door open and smiles in at his dad sheepishly who is indeed standing at the end of the bed, and Uncle Steve who’s sitting in your old armchair leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Hey, Bud.” Uncle Steve says.

“Hey Uncle Steve.” Ben moves inside and stops just past the doorway.

“I have a proposition to pose to you, Ben.” Dad’s looking a little pale.

He’d always had a nice tan and though he still has his full beard and his hair is slightly grown out, he looks smaller somehow without the pride he’d always exuded from having you at his side and it breaks Ben’s heart to see how your absence affects him.

Ben steps further into the room, his own heavy steps making the wooden floor beneath his feet creak.

“What is it, Dad?”

“We’re going to get your mother back.” Dad says and Ben, stunned into silence, just stares at his father as if he’s finally done it.

He’s lost his mind.

“Dad…”

“Wait, hear me out.” Dad rushes to say, and Uncle Steve gets up.

“It’s real, Ben. We can get your mother back.”

“Uncle Steve, how the hell are we supposed to get mom back? I miss her too, Dad, but she’s gone. She died. If we just get out of the house for a little while, you’ll see that things are just as they’re supposed to be.”

“No. Ben, listen…” Dad sighs, his wide but slightly thinner looking shoulders heave.

Uncle Steve moves over to Dad and Dad responds, turning to look at his old friend. Uncle Steve pulls Dad into a hug and the two clap each other’s backs affectionately before pulling apart.

“I’ll leave you to explain. I have to go meet with Howard. Apparently, he’s bringing Ginny over and I promised her a ride in the jet.”

“Of course. Please tell Stark and his daughter hello for me.”

“Benny.” Uncle Steve says, caressing Ben’s right shoulder as he passes then leaves Thor to explain to Ben exactly how they’re going to get you back.

It’s been so many years since he and Dad had begun this process. Sometimes it took years to find you and Ben had learned pretty quickly what the best ways to approach you were.

This time he found you quickly. He observes you on stone park bench nestled amongst flowers and trees, looking immersed in your book.

You’re still very young however, and Ben is always wary about how young he should try and get to you. This is by far the youngest. At eighteen years old, you’ve still got some growing to do.

You look like you, though, and even Rosie can’t seem to wait to get you back.

“Today, right? She’s been eighteen for two months. You’ll do it today, right?” Rosie asks impatiently.

Ben looks down at his sister. She’s beautiful of course, and Dad often says that she looks like Grandma Frigga. Her hair is darker than his own, almost brown with the smallest hints of golden highlights in her long flowing hair. Her eyes are dark, her lips full and pink. She’s slender but strong. Ben knows first hand how hard she can punch.

His sister kicks ass. He knows that, however she’s impatient as hell and sweet. She’s strong, reliable, like Ben remembers you being. Most of all, she’s very loving. Especially with her family. With Dad and himself, Rosie is very protective and clingy at times.

“I don’t want to scare her.” Ben argues.

“Benny, I miss her.” Rosie whines.

“Rosie, this is the youngest we’ve ever found her. I’m sure Dad’ll like it-”

“Yeah, imagine the stamina she’s gonna have.” Rosie says with amusement.

“Rose!”

“What?! Dad never gets any unless Mom’s home. Why do you think he kicks us out for a few months every time we find her?”

“Yeah, I know but…you’re just like Mom! Why do you have to talk about it?”

“Hey, we wouldn’t be here if Mom and Dad didn’t like getting it on.” Rosie points out.

“Rose!”

“Fine, fine. Prude. We’ll see how shy you are about it when you find your one.”

“I’m three-hundred and eighty-four years old, Rosie. If I haven’t found them by now, then I don’t think they exist.”

“What about Patrick? He was pretty sweet.” Rosie offers.

“And he couldn’t handle the whole I live forever thing.” Ben sighs, remembering the redhead fondly.

He’d been such a beautiful man.

“What about Lane?” Rosie asks. “You were with her for forty years.”

“And she left me for a Kree Warrior.” Ben reminds his sister.

“She might come back. Anyway, it took dad almost two thousand years to find Mom, did you think it was gonna be easy?” Rosie teases.

Ben sighs as he continues to watch you, staring at the way your fingers flip the pages of your book and the sparkle in your eyes as you enjoy whatever story you’re reading. When Rosie’s gentle hand takes a soft grip on his hand, Ben tears his eyes away from you to look down at his baby sister.

“You’ll find someone, Ben. We both will. It might just take time. Look at what Mom and Dad go through to be together.”

Ben smiles down at her before looking back at you. “Kinda makes it hard to settle when we have such a clear example of how much two beings can love each other, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t wait, Ben. Mom’s never told you but she’s always sad when we don’t find her when she’s young. She misses him too. She feels the time.”

“What?”

“She told me when you found her in Rome. She hated that she’d gotten married and that she’d missed out on so much time with Dad. Then the cancer came and made their time together shorter. She wants to be with Daddy. Don’t make her wait.” Rosie pleads.

“I’ll do it right now.” Ben assures her.

“Right now, right now?” Rosie asks startled.

“Yes.” Ben tells her firmly. “It’s a miracle we don’t have any half-siblings running around.”

“Maybe not, but Eggy and Lo are more than enough extra family. You notice how only when Mom and Dad meet on their own, that’s when they end up having more kids?”

Ben does find it interesting that Mom and Dad have only had two more kids since she first left them. It’s been almost four hundred years and all they have to show for it is Egil and Lok. Four children. Mom’s always so excited to see everyone together when Ben finds her.

Ben laughs lightly. “Egil hates that nickname. If he hears that you’re still using it, he’ll throw a fit.”

“Well, too bad for him. I like it. And Lo would never tattle on me.”

“Is she at home?”

“No. She left just after you did. You’ve been tailing mom for too long. She gave up. She’ll be back in a few months.” Rosie promises. “If not, I’ll go find her. She promised dad she’d stay close.”

“Good. Mom always likes us together when she wakes up.” Ben begins to move around the shelter of trees the two of them have been hiding in, but Rosie reaches out and stops him.

“I’ll meet you all at home. I can’t bear to watch.”

“Okay. Wish me luck?” Ben asks then watches as Rosie smiles at him and releases his arm, bends her knees slightly, and pushes herself off the ground to fly into the sky.

Damn. Yes, Ben has his magic, but he’d give anything to be able to fly like that.

He waits until Rosie’s out of sight before he slowly, with his heart pounding and his stomach in nervous knots, heads towards his you. He moves at a slow pace, walking casually, with his arms swinging at his sides.

You’re still too busy reading to look up. As he gets closer, Ben can see that you’re smiling. Softly at first but then your smile widens, and you laugh out loud which prompts him to stop a few feet from your bench.

For Ben, it’s amazing to watch you be a woman in your own right with no family to tie you down. No husband to claim you. You’re so free. Sometimes, like right now, it almost makes him hesitate. You have your whole future ahead of you, thousands of possibilities. You could live to have more kids though you never have. You could become a doctor or a lawyer or a writer or maybe even a stunt double.

Dad would say you’re too clumsy to be a stunt double, but Ben has always believed you when you’ve told him that he can do and be anything. Why should the same not apply to you?

He stops beside you, looking down at you as you reach up and bite your thumb’s nail as you read on, chuckling lightly before turning the page.

“May I sit here?” Ben asks you but you don’t seem to hear him. “Excuse me?”

“Hm?” You ask, absentmindedly.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” He asks again, this time leaning down slightly.

“Uh…yeah.” You reply, off-hand and way too distracted to look at him.

“Funny book?” Ben wonders, leaving plenty of space between you.

He doesn’t want to scare you like last time.

“Hm?” Finally, probably just annoyed with the constant interruptions, you look over at him and he watches your eyes scan his face and then the rest of him.

Ben knows what he looks like. He’s not stupid. For most girls here on Earth, Ben is…well, if they’re into guys, Ben’s kind of the dream. Yet, somehow, every time you look at him, it’s like you don’t see him.

“Do I know you?” You suddenly ask him and for a moment Ben’s heart goes into arrest. “You were at that coffee shop last week. Are you stalking me?”

Ben blushes, then laughs nervously because yes, in fact, he has been stalking you for two months.

“No. I-I just moved here. Maybe that’s why-?”

“Oh.” You reply, unconvinced, but not afraid either. “What brings you to the park?”

“I was meeting my sister here. This park is kind of an important place for us. This is where our parents met.”

“Wow. That’s sweet. Is it some big romantic story?” You ask him eagerly, shutting your book and resting it gently on your pink skirt covered lap.

This youngest version of you that he’s found has nothing but pure and positive expectations from the world. He can see the light in your eyes at the prospect of hearing some grand romantic story and it makes Ben smile. He’s always known you were a hopeless romantic, but he’s never seen your heart this fresh. Unbroken by loss and hurt.

“Yeah, actually, it is. My Mom got dumped here by some guy she’d been crushing on and my Dad happened to be walking by when he found her crying. He offered her a handkerchief and then asked her out to get a drink and they were together ever since.” Ben shrugs his left shoulder. “I think they might have broken up for a bit, but they got back together and got married. Had us. Then a few years later,” Yeah, right. More like two hundred years later. “They had my younger siblings and then my mom passed away.”

“Oh…” You sigh, suddenly saddened by the shift of tone. “I’m sorry. You must miss her a lot.”

“I do. She was everything to me. She was my rock. But I think my dad misses her more than I do. He always gets really depressed when she’s not with us.” Ben explains.

He watches your face carefully, looking for the right moment as you listen to his story. And here it comes.

Your expression, saddened by his story of losing his mother, suddenly shifts into confusion.

“When she’s not with you? You make it sound like you can get her back.” You realize.

“Because I can.” Ben says quietly and just as your eyes glaze over with deeper confusion, he reaches out and places his hands on either side of your head.

His soft golden magic flows from the center of his palms and the tips of his fingers wrapping itself around your crown tracing lines that he doesn’t understand fully. He knows it has something to do with your brain but even he doesn’t understand the way this works completely.

You don’t struggle. You don’t move. Your face is frozen in that look of befuddlement as the wind shifts around the two of you, blowing a soft cool breeze that didn’t exist before. As the golden light flows down along your arms and neck, Ben hears you sigh lightly. He pushes himself harder, focusing his magic into the deeper recesses of your mind until that soft golden light is then reflected in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Ben whispers.

He knows it doesn’t hurt be he’s always so scared that something will go wrong. What if he messes it up? What if he’s really stealing your life from you by bringing you back? All these doubts are all that matter in the thirty seconds that it takes for his magic to work its way into your system but when the golden lights fades from your eyes and the veins of magic recede into his hands, Ben forgets them as your eyes shine with pure recognition.

“Ben?” You whisper, searching his familiar face.

“Hey, Mom.” He answers, his beautiful blue eyes spilling over with tears.

“Oh, my baby boy.” You sigh, reaching up to place your hand son the sides of his face.

He’s always larger than you but this time he feels especially big. He’s still tall, slightly shorter than Thor, but wide shouldered, thick arms, long legs with wide thighs. Your boy is massive, and it makes sense seeing as Thor is massive too. His cheeks are covered in rough golden fuzz, a beard still growing in and hiding his squared jaw. His hair is blonde, with darker brown streaks along the thicker patches, flowing in the breeze softly as his peachy skin glistens with the sweat of his effort to use his magic.

“Mom…” Ben cries, placing his right hand over your left. “I missed you so much.”

You slip your arms around his neck and scoot closer as Ben wraps his large arms around your torso softly, always your baby boy is careful not to hurt you. You can feel the hesitation in his hug as he tests his strength around you.

“I feel like it’s been a long time.” You admit and reach up to stroke the back of his head.

Your baby boy is a man. And he has been for a long time. You know this. Every time you see him again for the first time however, it feels new and you want to mourn for the baby boy that you held in your arms, his head cradled against his left shoulder as he clung to you and asked you where his daddy was.

Thor!

“Your father?” You ask him, suddenly eager to see Thor.

Ben pulls back and you reach up to wipe the tears from his cheeks as he pulls your hands down against his lap. “He was at home when I left. I’m not sure where he is now. We should go. He’ll wanna see you.”

Ben gets to his feet and pulls you along, but you yank back on his arm and pull him to a stop. “Wait, wait, wait. What am I wearing?”

You look down at your outfit, a short pink frill skirt which is actually a skort. The shorts part of the skirt extend slightly past the frilly skirt portion which is perfect for a warm spring day. Your shirt is a simple loose white tank top, tucked into the skirt.

“Mom, you know Dad doesn’t give two shits about what you wear.” Ben argues.

“Hey! Language.” You chastise him and Ben laughs. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just, you’re a lot younger than me right now and it’s funny to hear you tell me to watch my language.”

This brings your attention to the small stature of your body. Or smaller would be the more appropriate word. You do feel a lot younger than you’ve felt with these memories in your head before.

“How old am I, Ben?”

“Your body’s age? Eighteen. This is the youngest we’ve ever found you. Should I have waited a few years?” Ben asks, unsure and clearly worried he’s made a mistake.

“No!” You protest, fear gripping your heart. “No, sweet pea, this is great. It’s perfect.”

“Mom,” Ben whines. “Do you really have to call me that? I’m super old!”

“So what? You are my sweet pea. I pushed you out, I will call you what I want.” You argue but despite his complaining, Ben is smiling.

“Come on, let’s go home. Dad’ll be so happy.” Ben says excitedly as a golden portal opens before you through which you can see a large modern home with brown wood and gray stone accents.

You can still kind of see the old structure, your small bungalow where you’d raised Ben and Rosie with Thor, through the uplifted house. When Eggy and Lo had come, you and Thor had added to the house, making it big for all six of you though Ben and Rosie had their own lives and came and went as they pleased. It had been nice to have a house with babies again.

Thor had been so happy.

“I bet he will.” You reply, taking note of your much younger body.

“Mom, you know I mean for you remembering, not how young you are.” Ben assures you, reading you well.

Just like Thor, Ben can always read you.

“Whatever.” You wave away his assurance but then reach forward to grab his large hand. “Let’s just go. I can’t wait to see him.”

Ben takes your hand, softly squeezing it as he pulls you through the portal.

“Dad?” Ben calls out as you follow him into the large house.

The entry way is still the same only slightly larger. The dining room to the right had been expanded, the kitchen also given a facelift and more counter space, but you can still see your small kitchen at the center, where you and Thor had reconciled after he’d been gone those first four years of Ben’s life.

Your ears and neck burn as you remember him pressed between your legs, sweating, panting, eager to be inside of you almost as much as you were to have him there.

“You okay?” Ben asks you, turning to give you a look.

“Hm?” You clear your throat, this body, young as it is and flooded with hormones makes that memory vivid. “Yeah, I’m great.”

You giggle stupidly, overcome with what your body is making you feel as opposed to the sensible woman’s memories you have.

“Mom…?” Ben stops, grabbing your hand a little tighter, knowing you’re not being completely honest.

“It’s just…this body is really young. I forgot what it feels like to be this hormonal.” You admit feeling a little embarrassed to be admitting this to your baby boy of all people.

“Oh.” Ben replies, blushing under his beard. “Right. Let’s get you to dad.”

He releases your hand and ignores the large living room to your left and instead bounds up the widened stairs taking them three at a time before disappearing down the longer and wider hallway. Your room and the balcony are still the same, and Ben’s old room had been made into a small office for you to work in a long time ago while the kids all had rooms on the opposite side now. Four decently sized rooms that none of them stayed in for more than a few months at a time.

You wander into the living room, ignoring the large TV display on the far wall and the new seats that had obviously been purchased after the last time you’d left them. You turn towards the nearer wall, the one adjacent to the stairs where picture upon picture hangs of you and your family at different times in your life.

There’s one from your first one with them. This is the largest one at the center with you and Thor sitting on your old sofa with a five-year-old Ben on Thor’s lap while you cradle a one-year old Rosie. The four of you look so happy and you remember that day so clearly. Your heart aches from the happiness you can remember feeling with them and your poor young heart can’t take it, never having felt that kind of ache before.

It makes you cry. You sniffle and reach up to wipe your tears, but they continue to fall as your eyes pass over picture after picture of you, Thor, Ben and Rosie through the years, then two more beautiful babies appear—Eggy with a full head of blonde hair but Lo, your youngest girl, has stark raven hair which Thor had explained might be his fault. His sister Hela had raven hair—and slowly they grow in each photo until they’re beautiful adults too.

“Mom?” Ben’s voice interrupts.

You reach up and try to wipe your tears away quickly, but you know he’s already seen you.

“Mom? Are you okay?” He moves towards you slowly, careful and gentle in his approach.

Smiling at him, you nod. “Of course. I’m just…so happy to be back. I missed all of you so much.”

And your stupid young heart breaks a little as you remember leaving them the last time. You sob a little and Ben crosses the room to you in two large steps to wrap you up in his arms.

You hug him back, your hands splayed out along his back. He’s so huge.

“Why did you have to grow?”

Ben laughs. “I’m so happy you’re home, Mom. I never feel right unless I know you’re here.”

He leans down and kisses the top of your head but holds you for another five minutes, the two of you staring at the pictures on the wall.

“I’m gonna go check the compound. See if Dad’s hanging out with Uncle Steve.”

You pull back in slight shock, happy to hear that Steve is still around. “You’re Uncle’s still alive?”

Ben nods. “It’s only been forty years, Mom.”

Oh, right. It always feels like so much more time when you wake up. “Right.”

“He’s got some grays though.” Ben says, highly amused by this fact. “Just around the temples. He’s really self-conscious about it. You should ask him about them when you see him.”

You chuckle as Ben pulls away and nod. “I’ll do that.”

Graying Steve, cute.

“I’ll be back.” He promises. “Please, don’t go far?”

“I promise.”

Ben turns and runs out the front door leaving you to your house.

You wander the house slowly and take in all the smaller changes. A chair here a table there. New throw pillows, a few new pictures. The fridge is, as always, completely stocked with food. As is the pantry. The dishes haven’t been done, which makes you sigh heavily.

“Welcome home, Y/N.” You smile despite the mess and quickly wash the two plates and glasses.

As you wash them, you can’t help but wonder who might have been eating this morning. It wasn’t Ben since he’d been looking for you. It could be Lo, Eggy, or Rosie. Still, even though you know that the odds of the person having breakfast with Thor is more than likely one of your kids, you can’t help the sudden lurch of jealousy as you wonder if maybe he might have found himself someone?

Even after all this time, you still worry that he might find someone else. What if he gets lonely waiting for you? You wouldn’t blame him, but you’d be lying if you pretended like it wouldn’t hurt.

“Stop being stupid, Y/N.” You dry your hands on a towel and wander upstairs to your room.

You stop just inside and give the room a look over. Everything is still exactly the same. Your vanity looks the same as the day you left them and has been well dusted. The sheets, though different in stile, are still light blue. Your pillow is untouched and the same pictures of just you and Thor rest on his bedside table and the dressers and decorative shelves around the room.

Feeling emotional, you move to your vanity and look down at your hairbrush. It’s the only thing out of place and you know that it’s probably because Thor has been holding it.

“Sometimes I come up here and I sit and hold your hairbrush. It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

“Isn’t that kinda creepy?” You tease Thor and he smiles that wide goofy smile you love, his blue eyes shining adoringly up at you from his seated spot on your bed.

“Perhaps it is, but I miss you so much when you’re gone that it’s the only thing that keeps me going some days. The kids take turns staying with me to make sure I’m not lonely though they really do not have to, but they cannot be with me all the time. I miss you the most then. When the parts of you that you passed to our children are beyond my reach.”

“I miss you too, puppy.” You sigh, gently stroking the handle of the brush.

You move towards the balcony doors, they’d been replaced with full glass French doors instead of your old sliding ones when the renovations to add rooms had been done which is nice. You don’t have to open the doors anymore to get a look outside.

Maybe you’re too wrapped up in your own memories, but you don’t hear the door downstairs open. You don’t hear the heavy footsteps that make their way up along the stairs. What you do finally hear is a slight gasp from behind you.

“Hey,” The deep booming voice says. “Who are you and why are you in my bedroom?”

You can’t blame him for not recognizing you. Thor has never seen you this young before. It only makes you smaller than him and less recognizable. You turn to look at him and nearly faint at the beauty before you. How the hell does he look better and better with age? Sure, he doesn’t exactly age the way everyone else does, but his full beard, his furrowed brow, his wide chest, his peachy tanned skin, those well-filled jeans, that white over worn t-shirt, and that dark blue jacket all only serve to make him look like the God among mortals that he is.

As you turn to face him, his expression softens. You can see his entire body visibly fall slightly, relaxing as he loses all the tension he’d been holding. His brow softens and disbelief settles into his eyes as he moves slowly towards you, taking careful steps as his hands swing limply at his sides.

You’ve forgotten how to breathe. How the hell does he still have this effect on you? After so much time, after all the fights and all the distance, after every death, after every insecurity, and after all the lives spent living together, how does he still manage to take your breath away?

“Are you really here?” He asks, uncertain. “This is not a dream?”

He’s so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. As he finally reaches you, he doesn’t hesitate as he places his left hand on your hip and then trails it back to rest on the curve of your bottom. You sigh heavily, overcome with pleasure, relief, and a powerful thirst for him.

He wraps that arm around your waist then hooks his hand under your thigh as he ducks down and lifts you up into his arms. You respond instinctively, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lifts you to bring you up closer to his level.

“Tell me this is real.” He pleads, almost near tears.

Placing your hands on either side of his face to scratch at the scruff of his beard, you smile and lean down until your lips meet his.

He responds hungrily, pulling you tighter against him as his mouth moves with yours eagerly, slipping his tongue into your mouth in a fervor as he steps back until his knees hit the bed and he sits himself down.

You kiss him until you’re both out of breath and when he pulls away, he stares up at you, his large hand slipping down along your spine making you shiver as he stares past you and into your soul.

“My dove…” He whispers.

“I’m here, puppy.” You reply.

He brings his hand down, resting it on your bottom as he suddenly swings you around towards his left until he’s got you settled on the center of the bed, pleasantly sandwiched between soft mattress and his hard, heated body.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He admits, reaching up to trace the line of your cheeks and jaw.

“Show me.” You whisper, reaching up with soft fingers to caress the curve of his ear while you lift your right leg and gently press against the flesh of his hips with your knee.

Thor doesn’t even hesitate. He’s pulling back, tugging your pink skort off quickly followed by your undies which he tosses onto the floor before stripping his jacket, shirt, and jeans off. In less than thirty seconds he’s got you both naked and he settles himself over you once more.

You spread your legs for him, giving him room to lay between them as his hands gently palm your breasts. Very quickly he abandons touching them in favor of tasting them, wrapping each perked bud with wet lips. He traces circles around your nipples, sucking softly as his hands trace the curves of your body, worshipping each bend and shift.

You’re breathing raggedly, trying hard to contain yourself because this body has never experienced love like this before. You suddenly realize what’s going to happen when all of a sudden it does.

You gasp loudly, shaking your head as the pain of a first shocks your system. Thor freezes at the sound of your pain and pulls back, his eyes frenzied with worry as he looks down at your arms and torso.

“I’ve hurt you, where?” He gasps, looking for a break but that’s not where your pain is.

You look down at where your hips are joined, he’s still buried within you, pushed too far in too quickly. His girth has spread you and you can feel yourself pulsating around him as his rod only grows harder. You’re so wet that he slid in easily. Damn these hormones!

He follows your gaze and startles at the small stain of blood.

“Oh.” He realizes and begins to extricate himself from you but freezes when you gasp again and grip his shoulders hard.

“No.” You plead.

“I’m sorry.” Thor gasps. “I’m-”

With wide eyes, he looks at you as your body begins to shake. You can’t help yourself. You’re laughing and you’re laughing hard.

You can feel Thor relax against you, still within you.

“What is so funny?” He demands, only slightly annoyed.

“I just…I mean, shit, this again?” You hate that you’re a virgin again.

All of the other times you had already been with men before meeting Thor.

“Should we stop?” Thor asks, gently caressing your cheek. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

“This is going to hurt whether we do it now or later.”

Thor frowns, hating that this reunion is not turning out to be as perfect as he had probably been imagining.

“I’m sorry, puppy, I’m just…this body is really young.”

Thor suddenly pulls back. “How young?”

“Not that young. Don’t worry.” You laugh again as he relaxes. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m sorry that I did not approach this more gently.” He blushes.

He’d been so eager to make love to you he’d just rammed himself in without waiting for you to give him the go-ahead.

“Don’t be.” You whisper and pull on his ears to bring him down closer. “I like when you’re a little rough with me.”

Thor grins at you, his cheeks blazing red now, and his hard shaft suddenly twitches making you shiver. He sees your quiver and leans down to kiss your lips softly. He trails those open-mouthed kisses down along your jaw to your neck where he bits on the skin and nibbles salaciously, licking at the salty skin.

Shutting your eyes, you moan, and prepare your body for a fight. A quick one you hope. You want to enjoy him soon.

“Fuck me, puppy.” You plead with him and he pulls back to narrow his eyes down at you.

“Are you sure?”

“Please…” You beg.

Thor meets your mouth with his own again, muffling your groan as he finally pulls his hips back a bit and then once again roughly rams himself into you.

It hurts. It hurts a lot, but you don’t care. You want to get the pain over with. You want to enjoy being with Thor already. You’ve waited so long and so has he. You can feel it in the way he thrusts, his arms constricted around you, his hand fisting the sheets by your head as he tries to contain himself but also give it to you. He starts thrusting hard and slow at first. Then he shifts into faster pumps, moving himself a little less while he grinds himself down against you as his mouth explores your body.

The pain never really leaves this time. It hurts but as he moves closer to you, rubbing his V-cut pelvis down against your nub, pleasurable pressure begins to build.

You force your mind to focus on that instead of the pain and soon the pain becomes an afterthought.

“Yes…” You mean into his ear and Thor responds with a growl as he realizes that you’re actually enjoying yourself.

“How do you want me?” He asks you, eager to please you but you can hear by the strain in his voice that he’s close too.

“Hold me.” That’s what you want most.

You want to be in his arms, where you belong.

Thor obliges, suddenly stopping to your disappointment but only so that he can sit back on the bed to pull you down onto his lap. He wraps both of his arms around you, slowing down for a moment so that he can hook his hand behind your neck to pull you down for one long, loving kiss. As he breaks it, he brings his left hand down to grab a fistful of your bottom’s flesh and then he pulls you towards him hard.

You moan loudly and Thor’s eyes sparkle with joy.

“Shh.” He chuckles. “Ben and Rosie are not far.”

You struggle against a smile but as Thor pulls you towards him again, harder, your smile falls as you shut your eyes and bite down hard on your lip.

“I’ll bite that for you.” Thor tells you and he mashes his lips to your own, his teeth grazing against your lip before he tongues your mouth deeply effectively muffling your moans as he drags you against him harder and harder, faster as he buries himself deep with in you over and over.

You and Thor have made love in many ways, many situations, many places, but it has never been this needy or rough. He pulls you against him harshly, as if he can’t get enough of your skin against his own. His groans are guttural and unrestrained though quiet as your hands grip his shoulders tightly and your nails dig into his skin.

You both want it so much that as he pulls you against himself his body is shaking; his arms are bulging. You can see the veins in his forearms press against his beautiful skin as he struggles to both get you there and hold off for himself.

“Come for me, my dove.” He pleads as you shut your eyes and throw your head back, finally tightening your legs around his waist to hold yourself nearer.

He pull you against him four more times, each pull burying his rod deeper within you until he stops, groaning deeply as his heat floods you and his body sizzles around yours, shocking you with that scorching blue electricity.

You gasp in shock but it’s all you needed to push you over the edge and your own body explodes with your climax, washing you with blinding glow. You cry out, moaning aloud but luckily Thor’s own orgasm is on its way out and he has the sense to pull you down to kiss him so that he can swallow your moan with his own.

Your two bodies, still connected, collapse sideways onto the bed. Thor tightens his arms around you, feeling you over with his large, warm, and calloused hands. You know that he’s memorizing your new curves, the softs folds of your body as you stare into his blue eyes, memorizing his glorious face again.

There have been times before this when you and Thor hadn’t even spoken upon seeing each other again. Making love when you were reunited is not new, but this level of connection is. Something small is different and you’re not sure what it is. Maybe it only feels new because you’re so young this time? Whatever the change is, this has been the best reunion sex so far and judging by the smirk on Thor’s lips, he must be thinking the same thing.

The reflection staring back at you is disconcerting. Not that you don’t like being young again, but to have your memories and experiences and to know that this body has experienced so little feels strange.

Thor had successfully claimed your body again and although it's still aching from his intense loving, when he comes up behind you and places his hand on your left shoulder, your hormones respond readily.

You lean back, shutting your eyes and humming lightly as his fingers trace the skin of your shoulder. Slowly he wraps his arm right arm around your torso, bending over so that he can slip it under your bust as he reaches around the back of your head to guide your head back so that he can lean down and kiss you.

His lips are warm, soft as they move against yours to the quiet sound of smacking lips and the faintest groan of enjoyment.

“Thor…” You interrupt and he ignores you, shaking his head as he pulls his right arm up a bit more, squishing you back against the chair and his chest.

“No.” He complains, deepening his kiss.

You know how he feels. You just want to wrap yourself in him. You want to kiss him until your lips are raw and chapped and have him hold you tight against his chest until you can’t breathe. You want him to devour you and you want to devour him right back.

Laughing against his lips you pull back forcefully. He tries to hold you in place a few more seconds but when you continue to pull against his hold he groans and lets you pull back a little.

“They’re waiting downstairs.” You remind him.

“We don’t need them. We can make more.” He offers, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he begins to lean in again.

“Thor!” You complain, laughing loudly. “We have time. And Rosie’s going to kill you if she hears you talking about not needing her.”

Thor groans again but keeps moving towards you only to rest his forehead against the side of your head. “Will you tell on me?”

“No. But only if we go down right now.”

“But you’re mine. I do not want to share you yet.”

“Thor…”

“Fine! Alright. Come on before I change my mind. It’s time for dinner anyway.” Thor stands up straight and fixes the steel blue button up shirt he’d put on before moving towards the door and without waiting for you walks out.

You watch him go, smiling from ear to ear because you know he’s only throwing a fit because he wants to be with you alone. However, your children are waiting, and you miss them so much too.

With the thought of seeing your other three children, you get up, pin your hair back, and straighten your flowing, sheer navy floral dress, the pink blossoms soft and pleasant.

As you move out of the room and move to head down the stairs, you’re tackled gently by a wide chest pressed against your back—through which you can feel a heavy thumping—and large beefy arms enclosed around you. The embrace is gentle but full of desire and you very nearly cave and drag Thor back into your bedroom.

Because you know that you can’t do that, you lean back against him and chuckle.

“It’s getting harder and harder, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Thor says deeply, his voice rumbling in his chest and into yours. “I have some news.”

“Good news?” Thor shakes his head.

“I’m not sure.”

You turn in his arms to look up at him. “What is it?”

“Later. As you said, my dove; we have time.”

Now you’re worried however, and you don’t budge as you stare up into Thor’s face with that worry plain on your face. He’s so much taller than you right now. You know you’ve still got a little growing to do but damn him for being so huge. No, you don’t budge until Thor himself places his large hands on your shoulders and turns you around slowly until you’re facing the stairs then leads you down them slowly.

Your feet have barely touched the lower landing when you’re suddenly wrapped up in two thin arms. The air around you is suddenly awash in the crisp scent of strawberries, linen, and ocean breeze but you know this body well and you wrap your arms around your little girl. You have to reach up a little higher than normal to hug her. Your girl is tall thanks to Thor.

“Rosie,” You gush as Rosie cries against your shoulder.

“Oh, Mom!” She cries. “You’re so much smaller.”

She sobs and you embrace her gently, rubbing her back with your hands and enjoy her in your arms. You only get a good five seconds before she’s pulling back to look at you.

“Well? Did you enjoy her, Daddy? Look at her.” Rosie teases.

“Rose!” You chastise your daughter who laughs at her own joke.

“I told Ben that he’d be happy.”

“Of course, I am happy. I have my wife back. No matter what state her body is in or how old she has become. I will love her always.” Thor reaches down to grab hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

Your heart swells about four sizes as you listen to Thor’s sweet words and watch your two eldest, Rosie holding tight to Ben’s hand as she leans against his arm, also appreciating the sight of you and Thor the way you appreciate looking at them.

“But you’re right, Rose. I did enjoy her.” Thor adds, reaching back to pinch your butt making you jump.

“Thor!” You complain as he laughs heartily then moves into the dining room and then the kitchen.

“I’ll get dinner started!” He declares and disappears from sight.

Rosie is laughing her head off, tossing her blonde head back as she enjoys the sounds of an almost full family at home. Ben shakes his head, shutting his eyes as if trying to shut the image of Thor pinching your bottom out of his head.

“Dad!” Ben calls out and moves after Thor probably eager to yell at him for pinching you.

You slide over to Rosie, reaching down to take hold of her hands before pulling them up to your lips to kiss them.

“Come on, Momma. Let’s let the men cook.” She pulls you over to the sofa and pulls you down beside her before resting her head on your lap.

She fixes her hair so that she’s not laying on it but cuddles in against your legs. You know what she wants, and you smile as you run your hands through her hair, scratching her scalp softly.

“Mmmmmm.” She purrs, relishing in the comfort. “I missed you so much, Mom.”

“Oh, bunny, I missed you too.” You lean down to kiss her head quick then continue to stroke her hair. “Where are your brother and sister?”

You want to see Lo and Egil too, why are they never home when you get back?!

“Lo left shortly after Ben went to look for you and Eggy’s been gone for almost a year. He checks in every few weeks, but he hasn’t stayed for a while. I’m gonna go get them tomorrow. I’m sorry, Mom. I know you like everyone here when you wake up.”

You sigh heavily, settling back against the sofa more comfortably as you wish your two younger children were more homebodies than your two eldest as you see them less.

“As long as they’re safe, that’s all that matters.” You explain but Rosie can hear your sadness

“They didn’t think we'd find you this fast, Mom. We never do. This time it was kind of like you wanted us to find you.”

“Yeah, it kind of felt like that when Ben found me in the park. Your dad and I met there, you know?”

“I know.” Rosie smiles. “Do you really love Daddy this much, Mom? To keep doing this over and over?”

“Oh, bunny, yes. Your father and all of you. I would gladly suffer a million deaths if it means that I can find you again. Nothing can change that.”

“And I think Daddy would wait a million years for you to find him.” Rosie admits, grinning up at you angelically as she contemplates this bond that you and Thor have.

“Mmmm.” Ben hears you whisper.

He’s almost asleep but he’s still very aware of your falling and rising stomach, his head nestled against it as he dozes off slowly. He can feel Rosie beside him, on your other side, where she’s no doubt stolen his favorite spot on your left shoulder. She’s got her arms wrapped underneath your bust, cuddling close against you probably inhaling your scent.

Ben finds it a little odd how you always turn out the same. You already have the same smell and although you’re not the right shape yet, you’re still you. You’re always you eventually and today, this time for some reason it seems like you’re you more quickly than ever before.

Sometimes it takes a day or two but today it was so instant. Though he won’t admit it to anyone, especially you or Dad, he’s worried that maybe it means something is changing.

Is for the better? Or does it mean something’s going wrong?

“What are you moaning about? We have not got to that part of the night yet.” Thor’s voice whispers back.

Ben’s head is softly jostled up and down as you laugh, beautiful popping bubbles of amusement slipping through your lips.

“Thor, shut up.” He hears you chastise Thor and the deep chuckle as Thor laughs too.

Ben’s lips involuntarily curve upwards at the corners, happy and pleased to hear your banter.

“I’m just full.” You explain. “Those steaks were so good, puppy.”

“I’m glad. I put extra care into each steak. Those mashed potatoes were a bit lumpy. Your son was distracted.”

“Oh, so he’s my son when his mashed potatoes are lumpy?”

Thor chuckles again and you follow suit. “Yes. He’s your son when he makes lumpy potatoes and he’s my son when he takes down an entire Hydra facility on his own.”

You suddenly stop laughing, “They’re back?”

“We cannot seem to keep them down. They are like an infestation. It’s as if we eradicate them and then they reappear a few years later.”

There’s a heavy silence but then when you speak again, your voice is light and full of pride.

You’re impressed. “He really took down an entire facility on his own?”

“Yes. Our son is quite extraordinary.” Thor’s voice is also beaming with pride and Ben feels his chest warm that he’s making both of you so proud. “I am so terrified when he and Rosie come with us on missions. They leave my sight and all I can see is that three-year-old toddler in my reworked cape, pretending he’s flying, kicking me in the leg for making you cry.”

“Oh, puppy.” Ben can almost picture you stroking the left side of his father’s face.

“And Rosie, remember when she’d come into our room in tears? Clutching that teddy bear, all ripped and re-stitched because Ben kept pulling on it too hard?”

“I remember.” You assure Thor. “But they’re not babies anymore.”

“I know. I just worry.”

“But you’re right, the mashed potatoes were lumpy.” You relent and he feels the bed shake as both you and Thor burst into silent chuckles.

Ben doesn’t know how to begin to explain the joy that your laughter accompanied by his father’s makes him feel.

Ben hates to admit it, but he had been distracted when making those potatoes. He’d been listening to you and Rosie laugh in the living room, wishing he could be there with you. He’d missed you so much. And it’s true that Dad had indeed paid extra attention to cooking your food. He always does when you’re home.

Today he’d pulled no punches with his honey and bourbon glaze and his salted lemon veggies. He knows you enjoy his cooking so when you’re here, he pours his heart into it.

“What about our other two delinquents?”

“Don’t call my daughter a delinquent. She is an angel. And Egil-Egil’s helping the Xandarians with some viral outbreak.” Thor argues though Ben has a hundred stories to prove him wrong.

“Fine. Egil’s an angel but Lo broke into the Stark vault and stole Tony’s old armor, Thor. Come on.”

“She was only curious.”

“She was eight.” You say half-laughing, picturing your beautiful girl who apparently looks a lot like her disowned Aunt Hela.

“That is besides the point. My Lo is nothing but the purest of Goddesses.”

“We named her after Loki. We should have known that she’d be a troublemaker.” You whisper but Ben can hear the fondness in your voice.

“He would have loved her. She would have made him laugh.” Thor admits, sounding slightly sad talking about Ben’s uncle.

“Hey, what was that thing you wanted to talk to me about?” You suddenly ask Thor.

“What? Oh, no. Nothing. We should not talk about it right now. We’re together.” Ben feels his father’s large hand press against the top of his head, soft caresses to his hair. “Another time.”

“Thor…”

“It will keep for another time, my dove. Not now. I just want to enjoy you and our little ones.” Ben smiles at the term of endearment because he and his siblings are not little anymore.

“Thor, I can’t, you know I can’t stand waiting. Just tell me.”

“Y/N…”

“Please?” Your voice hitches as you beg, and Ben knows immediately that Thor will cave.

That voice of yours, especially with you being so young, the fear in it almost makes Ben sit up to cuddle you so that he can maybe chase away whatever is making you sound like that, but he pushes it down as Thor’s hand disappears from the top of his head and probably moves over to land on your cheek as he offers you comfort this time.

Rosie also seems to respond to the distress in your voice because Ben feels her shift beside you, and she groans lightly.

You and Thor freeze and after a long minute of silence Thor sighs heavily.

“It is not good news.” Thor whispers even more quietly than before.

“Shit, what, Thor?”

“I…I have failed you. I have failed our children. I have failed us.”

“What are you talking about, baby? What?” You demand, close to tears as you respond to sorrow in Thor’s voice.

“I cannot, no matter how much searching I do, find a way to keep you with me. I want you forever but the only options that I have come across are two that I am unwilling to expose you to. If we tried a scientific serum like the one that Steve took, we might extend your life, but it could bring other problems. It is a volatile science that might raise consequences that I will not chance, that might change you forever.”

“Then we don’t-”

“There are the Infinity Stones but never, I will never bring you close to them. They are even more dangerous than a serum. They are out of the question.”

Ben feels your stomach fall as you exhale suddenly, deeply, as you relax. “Thor…you scared me. Is that seriously what you’re worried about?”

“I promised you that I would find a way to make you immortal, so that I would never have to leave you again, but I have not been able to. I have failed you.”

“Ugh, I could kiss you, you big hunky meatheaded fool.”

Ben hears some smacking, obviously you are kissing his Dad and so as not to interrupt he keeps as still as possible.

“I’m hunky?” Thor asks, his voice hitching as you laugh.

“Of course, that’s the only part you hear. You know I love you.”

“And you obviously think I’m the best-looking man in the universe.”

“You already knew that, dummy.”

“I know.” And like a switch, Thor’s voice switches back. “Please, tell me that you forgive me for failing.”

“Thor, you didn’t fail. We knew that idea was always a long shot. It’s not something that I ever really expected. That first life with you was such a blessing and then when you brought me back, I thought I was dreaming. You and Ben, what you did for me, for us—we are so lucky to have had so much time together since. It’s more than any of us thought possible. So, I don’t get to live forever, so what? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“What if something goes wrong? What if some day we can’t find you? What if restoring your memories doesn’t work? What if-?”

“Thor, Thor, stop. Baby-” You sigh deeply, your stomach rising and dropping once again. “We can’t waste time thinking about the possibilities of what might happen if one day things don’t work out. We need to appreciate the time that we have together now. I don’t want to contemplate a future where you and I aren’t together. I just want to be with you and our babies, right now. Here. In this bed. Can’t we just be together in this moment?”

“Do you not think about the possibility of our time together coming to an end?”

“Of course, I do. Thor, yes. I do. Every time I wake up, I think about the fact that maybe you got tired of waiting for me and found someone else to love. I think about the possibility that too many years pass, and you might not love me like this anymore. I know that every time I die, I might not come back but I don’t like thinking about it Thor because every time that I wake up and I’m here with you again, I just count myself lucky that I found you again. So, yes, I think about it, but I don’t want to. Can we just not think about it? I don’t want to think about it.”

Ben can hear your voice strain against the rising insecurities that he didn’t even know you felt. He knows now, after prying some more since overhearing Uncle Steve and Dad talk about you as if they both knew you intimately, that things hadn’t begun easily for you and Thor. In fact, Thor had made some pretty big mistakes and you’d spent some time in a short relationship with Uncle Steve.

“Alright, I’m sorry. Forgive me.” Thor hurries in a hushed whisper, and Ben feels him shift closer as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. “Forgive me.”

Ben can hear you sniffling as you sob softly. He really wants to punch Thor for making you cry but he knows that this is a conversation that Dad had been meaning to have with you and this conversation also has Ben thinking. Thinking hard. What can he do to help?

As your sobbing evens out, and Ben feels more awake than before, he hears a soft hum as Thor kisses you again.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s have more babies.”

You suddenly laugh, louder than you intend because Thor shushes you in amusement.

“More babies?” You ask, lowering your voice again into a whisper.

“When we had Ben and Rosie, I took your first time, remember?”

“Yeah.”

Ben shuts his eyes tight. He really doesn’t need to know about Dad taking your virginity.

“And when we had Lo and Egil, you had not been touched then too.”

“That was also the only time that Ben didn’t find me first.” You recall.

“That is true. I found you in that garden by that church, freshly left at the altar.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me.”

“A blessing to bring us together, my dove.”

“Tell that to my poor broken heart.”

“Did I not mend it?”

“Yeah. You did. If that’s true though, if you finding me and us having kids is somehow tied together, then obviously we can’t this time.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t find me this time. Ben found me, in our old park.”

Thor’s silence is loaded.

“What? Why are you smiling at me like that?” Ben hears you ask, a small uncertain laugh in your voice.

“I uh…I actually did find you first, but I kept my distance. It was about six months ago. But when I saw you, you were so young that I thought maybe you deserved a few more years to grow into yourself? I didn’t want to rob you of your youth, so I kept my eye on you but at a distance.”

“Stalker.” You tease.

Thor chuckles. “I did stalk you, I’m sorry. But you are my wife.”

“So, Ben didn’t know that you found me?”

“No. He found you two months ago on his own. I’m not sorry he brought you back to me. I’m liking this body.”

“Hey!” You chastise him. “Down, big man. Keep your hands to yourself until these kiddos are in their own beds.”

Thor growls. “They’ll never leave us alone.”

You chuckle and Ben smiles, despite the disturbing imagery, he likes that the two of you always seem to find your way back to each other.

“You just asked me for more.” You laugh again.

“Well, having babies with you is one of my favorite things to do.” Thor assures you.

“You mean making them is one of your favorite things to do.”

“Should we have more?” Thor asks.

“Don’t you want more?”

There are two loud smack and Thor’s hand grazes Ben’s shoulder as he slips it around your waist.

“Should we get started right now?”

“Thor, I will kill you if you don’t stop touching me with these babies in my bed!”

Thor growls again but then falls into silence as Ben also drifts off to sleep.

It can’t have been more than an hour later when Ben slowly opens his eyes to the dimly lit room. Slow, heavy breathing fills the silence as Ben sits himself up to look over the large bed. You’re right at the center, Thor spooned up behind you, his face buried against the back of your neck. Rosie is still laying in your arms but loosely. It’ll be easy to get her up.

With a new determination, Ben pulls himself up off of the bed so easily and lightly he doesn’t jostle the bed. He reaches over to shake Rosie awake.

“Wake up.”

“Ugh…what?” Rosie groans, swatting at his hand before turning away from him.

Ben bites his lip and squats down beside his sister. “Shh. Keep your voice down or you’ll wake up Mom and Dad. Get up, we need to go.”

“Go where? Let me sleep.”

“We’re gonna go find a way to make mom immortal.”

Ben watches Rosie’s form as his words sink in and after a silent moment, Rosie lowers the arm she’s got pressed against her eyes and stares up at her brother’s face.

“Are you serious?”

“You wanna see her die again?”

“Of course, I don’t!” Rosie exclaims in a harsh emotional whisper.

“Then come on.” Ben turns and heads out of the room and down the stairs to grab his coat the slips it on over his white t-shirt.

“Where are we going?” Rosie asks, following him down and pulling her own jacket on looking exhausted.

“The compound. We’ll get our suits on and then head out.”

“Okay, but to where?”

“The only place I can think of that Dad hasn’t already tried.”

“And where’s that exactly? He’s been scouring the Universe for years trying to find a way to make mom live forever.”

“Asgard.”

“What? Don’t be stupid Ben, you heard Dad, Asgard was destroyed by Hela.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s nothing left.”

“He said it exploded. And we don’t even know where it’s at. Dad’s never taken us there because it’s too painful for him to go back.”

“We have to try, Rose.” Ben growls at her. “Are you going to come with me or not?”

“Of course, I’m coming with you. Mom would kill me if I didn’t try and stop you and since I’m not going to try and do that, I’m gonna be there to at least watch your back.”

“Good. Then Asgard it is.” Ben says with finality as he summons his portal to keep from opening the front door and possibly alerting you and Dad of his plans.

“Mom? Mommy?”

You stir, groaning as you shift on your bed, the massive warm body normally beside you absent. Thor’s been on mission for two days and you hate it when he’s gone but finally, after four glasses of wine, you’d finally fallen asleep.

“Nnggggg,” You wine. “No!”

There’s a small giggle and more shaking to your shoulder. “Mommy, wake up.”

“Oh, no, my little girl is not trying to wake me up on a day when she knows I have trouble going to sleep to begin with.” You whine.

“Mom, being this dependent on Daddy is not exactly healthy.”

“I’m not dependent. I just miss him.” You explain as you open your eyes to find Rosie sitting on your bedside.

Startled by the sight of her in her sleek, deep plum Kevlar Avengers uniform, you sit up straighter.

“What is it? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I just-I need you to come downstairs. Ben’s waiting for you.”

“Ben? What’s wrong? What’s happened?!” You ask, in panic already at the idea of something having happened to your baby boy.

“Nothing, Momma.”

“Hey. When’d you get back?” A slightly more even toned voice drifts in from your doorway and Rosie turns to look towards it.

Standing in your bedroom doorway is your youngest, petite with long raven hair that reaches her waist, pale peach skin, and dark eyes wide with surprise at finding her older sister on your bed.

“Just now.”

“We got a fight?”

“No, Lo. I’m just getting Mom downstairs. Ben’s gonna take her somewhere.”

“You mean-?”

“Yeah. Dad’s in Wakanda helping them out with some unsanctioned visitors from Ankara. Can you go tell him that we’ll need him home?”

“Is it gonna work?�� Lo asks, a hopeful yet pained hitch in her voice.

“I don’t know, Lo.”

“What are you two talking about?” You ask suspiciously, staring at your daughters in turn.

“Nothing, Mom. Come on, get up and get dressed. Something simple. Just some jeans and a shirt. Ben’s waiting.”

Rosie turns back towards the door and hurries to usher Lo away and down the stairs.

“Finally?” Lo asks excitedly.

“Will you shut it? You’ll scare Mom.”

“I’m sorry, I just want her back and-”

You don’t get to hear what else Lo wants as they head down the stairs, but your curiosity is peaked. You move into your bathroom to wash your face then pick out a pair of plain light blue jeans, a navy t-shirt, tucked in, and your brown hiking boots before heading downstairs.

Ben stands at the base of the stairs, wearing his own dark red Avengers uniform, looking so much like Thor it only makes you miss him more. As you approach him, he turns around and smile up at you.

“Hey, Mom, you ready to go?”

“Seriously? That’s all I get? You’ve been gone for six months. Where the hell have you and Rosie been?” You pause at the bottom, hands on your hips as you scowl at all three of your children.

The fourth is with Thor in Wakanda.

“Mom-” Rosie begins, sitting on the back of the sofa with Lo between her legs as she hugs her from behind.

If you weren’t so angry at them, you’d probably gush about how cute your girls are.

“Nuh-uh. No, Rosie. No excuses. You and your brother got up and left the same day I got back, and I haven’t seen you since. Where were you?”

“Mom, if you’ll calm down, I’ll show you.”

“Did you just ask me to calm down?” You look at Ben, the past six months of worry flooding back rapidly.

“Mom,” Lo starts, moving towards you and wrapping her arms around you.

She’s the only one of your kids shorter than you but only just. She’s tiny, compared to your other buff children who have taken after Thor in their muscle development, but Thor has always said that Lo is very similar to Loki’s stature. Lean and quick.

You hug her back because she’s your baby and she hasn’t left since Rosie sent her back home wherever they’d been when they’d found her.

“Trust us. Just go with Ben and he’ll show you what he and Rose have been doing. Please? Just…trust us, Mommy.”

You stare down at your little girl’s pleading face and then look over her shoulder at Rosie who’s standing again, sighing lightly with an apologetic smile on her face.

“Of course, I’ll trust you.” You assure them then turn to look at Ben who’s leaning up against the front door looking slightly ashamed.

When he looks up and meets your eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom. I should have told you we were leaving.”

You frown at him but shake your head and gently pull Lo back so that you can push her dark hair back and kiss her cheek. “Go do what your sister told you to do.”

You might not understand for what reason Rosie asked Lo to go and bring Thor back home but you’re not going to complain. You want him home.

“Okay. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, honey. Go on.” You urge her towards the stairs, and she bounds up to go change.

Rosie moves towards you and wraps her arms around you, holding you tight. It surprises you, the strength and the emotion in her embrace that your worry is renewed, and you hold her back with just as much concern.

“Rose, what’s the matter?” You stroke the back of her golden head gently.

“Nothing. I just…”

“You two are scaring me.”

“No. Mom, please don’t be scared.” Ben hurries forward and wraps you both up in his arms which make Rose laugh for some reason but you’re still terrified.

“It’s good, Mom. I’ll explain when we get there but we do need to get going. The location changes often, drifting through space and I can kinda guess where it’s going to be but-”

“Wait, what? What changes often? What location?”

Ben chuckles and releases you and Rosie. Rosie steps back and Ben reaches down to cradle the sides of your face as he continues to laugh.

“Mom, do you trust me?”

“You know I trust you with my life, Benny.”

“Then come with me. I promise, it’s all good.”

You stare at him, considering his words. Moving locations, drifting through space, trusting him? Of course, you trust him. Your little protector has never let you down.

“Where are we going?” You finally relent and almost in the same moment Ben smiles.

“Come on, Mom.” He takes your hand and opens the door.

As he heads out, he turns to look at Rose, pointing at her and giving her a stern look.

“Try and keep Dad calm. He’ll probably freak out.”

“You take care of Mom, I’ll handle Dad.” She promises then throws you a kiss as Ben shuts the door.

Ben walks you halfway down the yard before he raises his hand and frowns, trying to concentrate.

“Benny?”

“One sec, Mom. I need to focus.” He pulls you back behind him, half hiding you as he widens his hand, spreading his fingers gently as a small circle of his golden magic sprouts in mid-air.

Why is he struggling to make this portal?

“Ben?”

“Mom, please.” He begs.

The golden circle grows until it’s as tall as Ben and wide enough for two through which you can see the drifting image of what looks like golden walls and beautiful white limestone, or maybe it’s marble?

“Hurry!” Ben suddenly shouts and races forward, pulling you along behind him so hard that he almost clearly pulls your arm from its socket.

You gasp but run when he does and as you cross through the portal you feel a rush of dizziness hit you. Your head spins until you can’t breathe and then as the breeze of the shutting portal fades, you let go of Ben’s hand and hurry to a half broken jade colored pot in the small crumbling circular room you find yourself in and hurl.

All of your good dinner, your wine, all of it comes up and out.

“Mom!” Ben hurries after you, grabbing your hair to hold it back as you empty your stomach. “Damn, sorry, I forgot about the distance. I’ve never brought you this far before. I’m sorry.”

As you cough and gasp, you stand yourself up slowly, pressing your hand against your stomach.

“Ben, where are we?” You cover your mouth, wiping it with the back of your hand.

“In Asgard. Or what’s left of it.”

“But I thought-?”

“It was mostly destroyed. It’s just a small island left over. There’s hardly any atmosphere now which is why you’re so dizzy. I’m sorry I should have got you something to help you breathe. Stand still okay?”

Ben reaches around the sides of your neck and presses his hands flat against it. Warmth flows through you and your lungs stop aching, your head stops spinning, though your nausea doesn’t vanish completely.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

Ben smiles down at you then reaches to take hold of your hand again. “Come on.”

“Why are we here, Ben?”

“I-I heard you and Dad talking that night we brought you back. I know both of you are worried about this life maybe being your last-about each life you get to live with us being your last.” Ben confesses.

“Oh, sweet pea, no.” You hurry to say, afraid of what your and Thor’s fear of the future might be causing your kids to feel.

“No, Mom, it’s okay. To be honest with you, I don’t know what my magic does every time I use it on you. What if it’s hurting you? It’s not normal, bringing you back the way we do. And sometimes we go so many years between finding you that we do start to worry that we might not find you and the idea of what that would do to Dad scares us. He was lost without you, Mom. That first time when we thought that we’d lost you forever, he stayed in your room for a year. He only came out to eat. It’s like he wasn’t alive. The newspapers and media were putting out stories like, ‘God of Thunder Vanishes’ and ‘Where is Thor? Avenger Missing.’ We don’t want that to happen again.”

“Your Dad is not going to do that again, Ben. He and I have talked about that. I know what happened when I died. I know how he feels every time I die because I feel it too.” You try and concentrate on your steps as you cross cracked floor through a large golden archway into what looks like an indoor garden only the plants are dead, and all the vases and pots are broken.

There’s a few walls and floors charred black from what must have been a massive fire.

“Maybe you do, but Mom, you don’t have to sit and watch him go through it. And…I don’t want to keep losing you. Neither do Rosie, Lo, and Egil. It kills us each and every time we have to tell you bye again, never knowing whether we’re going to find you again.”

“And I’m sorry about that, baby, I really am. But that’s the way things are supposed to be. I am human. I live for eighty years, maybe a hundred if I’m lucky which that first time around, I was but that was the end for me. I’d lived a good life. I loved your daddy very much, more than some people ever get to love anyone and I had two beautiful babies and I got to see you and Rosie grow up and become amazing people. It was a good life.”

“What are you saying then? That you regret that we brought you back? What about Lo and Eggy? You regret having them?” You can see that Ben’s getting upset, his brow furrowed in a frown looking so much like Thor that your heart aches. “You had them almost two a hundred and fifty years after that first life.”

He lets go of your hand as he motions towards the room where his portal had brought you two to Asgard, his poor heart breaking because he thinks that you regret all the sacrifice that he and all of your beloved family has made bringing you back time and time again.

“Of course not, Ben! I love all of you. You all are my heart and soul. I could never regret having any of you or any of the lives I’ve been able to share with you all.”

“Then what are you saying, Mom? Because it sounds like you’re telling me that you never wanted to come back and be with us to begin with.”

“What I am trying to tell you, Ben, is that I never asked for immortality. I never wanted it. I love you and your brother and sisters, and I love your dad and every moment that I get to spend with all of you is more precious than the last but this dream, this idea of me living forever was always just that, a dream. You don’t remember because you were so little, Rosie wasn’t even born yet, but your dad and I were fighting. We were fighting a lot.”

“Because he left you, right?” Ben offers and it stuns you into silence.

When the hell had he learned about that? “I-”

“And you hooked up with Uncle Steve. I know all about that, Mom.”

“Ben…yes and no. We weren’t fighting because of your Uncle Steve but yes, we were fighting because he left me. He lied to my face and told me that he didn’t love me and broke my heart then showed up four years later and expected me to just forgive him and love him like nothing had happened. The only reason I kept him in my life in the beginning was because you needed him around. You loved him so much and I wasn’t going to take him away from you.”

“You seriously almost didn’t even get back together with him?” Ben asks, heartbroken.

“Ben…it’s in the past. I was very angry at your dad, but I did love him, and I would have found my way back there no matter what. The point is, while all of that was happening, you dad made these declarations of how much he loved me and how he would never leave my side again. He made sure to tell me that he’d find a way to make sure that I would always be with him. He promised to make me immortal, but I took it for what it was, Ben. It was an empty promise made out of love. I never-” You sigh as Ben looks down at your feet, his face crestfallen, his wide lips pouting handsomely as his eyes shiver with grief. “Ben, I never expected him to keep it. I knew that one life would have to be enough so I made that life the best that I could, and it was such a good life.”

You reach up and place your hands on his cheeks, tilting his head back so that you can look into his beautiful face, those shocking blue eyes spilling soft tears. Your heart breaks for your baby boy and with a gentle thumb you sweep his tears away.

“I will never regret the lives that you and your dad have given me, Ben. You have always been my Knight in shining armor. You even kicked your dad around for me once because he made me cry. I know that you want to protect me and keep me with you but if this stops working, then that’s okay, Ben. I need you to know that even if this is the last time I get to be with all of you that I have spent hundreds of years loving you and that will never change.

“You remembering me and loving me and cherishing the time we have been able to spend together is all the immortality that I need. I don’t need you to save me, sweet pea. You did that for me when I first heard your heartbeat over the speakers of an ultrasound machine. When your dad left me, I didn’t think there was any reason to keep going. And then I saw you and heard you for the first time and just by existing you gave me a reason to keep going.

“I love your dad, Ben. More than words can say but you and your brother and sister, you all are the loves of my life.”

Ben sniffles, reaching up to grab onto your wrists as he cries a few more weighty tears. They splash onto the limestone floor with barely audible thuds in the silent vacuum of Asgard’s ruins.

“But Dad is still your soul mate, right?”

You laugh too, trying hard not to cry yourself because your baby is hurting, and you really hate that you’re the cause.

“Of course, he is, Ben. I’ve been falling in love with your dad for over a thousand years apparently. Does it really matter that much to you that we be together?”

“You and Dad are like, my goal, Mom.”

You laugh at his cuteness and pull his wide shoulders down towards you and wrap your arms around him. He stoops down, hunching over so that you can reach him and wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tight.

“Why didn’t you just stay three?” You demand, emotional now to the point that you are finally crying.

As Ben pulls back, he kisses your cheek and you finish wiping the tears from his face.

“What are we doing here, Ben?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “There’s like a temple or something through this doorway. Dad had already tried everything, and we thought that maybe we might be able to find something here on Asgard. There’s this weird box thing inside with inscription and a scroll inside of it. It’s made out of gold. Rosie’s been teaching me how to read it and I know how to say what’s on it now. We thought, maybe, it might be like a spell or…I don’t know, Mom. Can we just give it a look?”

You stare at him, itching to say no because a quest for immortality seems like such a bad idea. You’ve made your peace with your existence but that look on Ben’s face, it reminds you of the one on Thor’s when he’d been apologizing for failing and after rolling your eyes, you nod. “Okay.”

“Thanks, Mom!” Ben exclaims and pulls you into another quick hug.

“Which doorway, Ben?” You look to your right and find two, one shut, the other wider and open.

“The bigger one.” Ben points and you move towards him.

“If this doesn’t work, Ben, we drop it, okay?”

“Okay.” He agrees and with you crosses into a long and tall golden room with large stone pillars, embellished with golden runes and strange Asgardian designs that you’ve only ever seen in drawings.

There are chiseled designs into the floor, swirls and swishes in repetitive patterns extending all the way to the far end of the room.

“Wow.” You whisper, impressed by the gleaming beauty. This room almost seems as if it were caught in some time bubble where the destruction of Asgard hadn’t touched it. “This is so weird. Is that the box?”

You gesture towards the far end where stands an ornately carved pedestal on which sits a small shoe-box sized container with the same carvings on the pillars all around the box.

When Ben doesn’t answer, you turn to look for him.

“Ben?” However, Ben is nowhere in sight. “Torben?”

Your heart begins to race as panic takes hold of your heart and you circle towards the doorway, you’d just come through only to find it gone.

“Ben?!” You shout, scared suddenly that your boy has been taken from you, and by whom? Hela? What if she’d survived Ragnarök because this little island exists?

“You are frightened?” A calm, penetrating soprano reaches your ears and you whirl to look at the source only to find yourself facing a tall woman with yellow-peach skin, protruding rosy cheeks, stunning blue eyes that you recognize as your son’s and Thor’s.

She stands by the pedestal wearing a floor length, silk yellow gown, the bodice half covered in beaded shining pearls, the top half in stunning golden armor, around her neck and upper biceps is wrapped a golden metallic shawl, and around her wrists she wears golden bracers. All of this topped with beautiful golden hair that falls to her waist but at the top is braided in intricate patterns.

You don’t have to ask who she is because you know. It’s not like you’ve seen her before. It’s not like you ever had the privilege to meet her—only Jane got that honor. No, you know her because she exudes regality and her eyes…those are Thor’s eyes.

“You’re-you’re dead.” You sputter, nervous and yes, very scared.

Her stern face relaxes into a soft smile but you’re no less intimidated. In fact, you’re impossibly confused as to how Thor had fallen for you in the first place when his mother is this beautiful example of feminine perfection.

“You’re not what I pictured for my son.” Frigga states and moves towards you slowly. “I always pictured him with someone strong. A warrior. Like Sif.”

You’re not surprised that his mom is disappointed with you, but it still stings.

“Sorry…” You whisper, almost losing your voice with the sadness that it fills you with.

You’ve always known that you weren’t good enough for Thor, but to hear his mother confirm it? Well, it sucks.

“Don’t be.” Frigga says, stopping a few feet away from you, her hands resting gently at her front. “You are just what he needs. An anchor.”

This doesn’t exactly make you feel better, but you’re willing to move on. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I thought you were dead?”

She smiles a bit more and nods. “I am dead. This is just a small visit. I have been watching you, Y/N Y/L/N. You are most peculiar. I never thought that a human might be destined for my son, but it seems I was wrong. You are not what his father or I would have chosen. You are fragile, you’ve been sick many times and he’s watched you die just as many. You have broken his heart over and over and yet he still searches for you, in spite of the peace he might find if he were to simply give you up.

“For a while we thought he might, but he found you again eventually, not on purpose and since that time he has clung to you harder than he has clung to anything in his life. My son has lost much in his long life, his family, his friends, his people, his hope at one point but he has never lost faith in you no matter how much I wish he had.” She says bluntly and once again you feel the sting of rejection.

“I’m sorry.”

“You are an enigma to me, Y/N. Not as a person. As a person you are very simple. You want to love and be loved. You want family and community. And you have had it. You and my son have led many wonderful lives together and have even given me four beautiful grandchildren.” Frigga smiles more widely at this, exposing a line of beautiful pearly whites. “And they truly are beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You gush, loving your babies so much you could die happy if just because at least she loves them too.

She can hate you all she wants, as long as she loves Ben, Rose, Eggy, and Lo as much as they deserve.

“That Lo is so much like her namesake. She’s going to continue to be a handful. Though Loki was not my biological son, he was very much my son. And that Ben.” Frigga shakes her head. “He reminds me the most of Thor.”

You smile now too, happy to be discussing your babies because at least in this you and Thor’s mother can bond. “He’s my boy, my Ben.”

“Even when Thor hurt you, you raised him to love his father. Not many women would have done such a thing.” Frigga observes, her smile replaced with a small sad scowl.

“I didn’t want my baby to grow up with hate in his heart. Thor is a good father. I knew he would be, and I didn’t want to rob Ben of that. He deserved to have that relationship even if things didn’t work out with me and Thor.” You respond passionately.

For a really long couple of minutes, Frigga simply stares at you, her eyes unreadable and her body just as relaxed but straight as before. When you shift on your feet for the fifth time and consider speaking for the tenth, Frigga finally sighs.

“My son has been searching for a long time for a way keep you with him.”

Your eyes flit to the box behind her and she turns to look at the pedestal and the ornate box.

“What he seeks is not in that box. A decoy to get Ben to bring you to me.” Frigga explains.

“What’s in there then?”

“The recipe for Thor’s favorite cake. It will be hard to make without a few fruits from Asgard, but you can find substitutes on Midgard.”

You want to laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole trip being made simply to end up with a recipe for Thor’s favorite desert.

“You are amused?”

“No. Yes.” You admit. “Ben will be disappointed. And Rose and Lo.”

“And Egil. He reminds me of my husband. Forever focused on the fight.” Frigga smiles. “But you?”

“What about me?” You wonder.

“You are not be disappointed?” Frigga asks.

You smile lightly and shake your head. “I’m grateful.”

Frigga’s smile vanishes, her face moving towards neutral as she stares at you and your seemingly strange reaction.

“You brought Thor into this Universe and I don’t know where I would be without him. I don’t have the greatest track record when it comes to love. I’ve always thought it was a miracle that Thor loved me at all and to have been able to share so many lives with him, it’s a dream come true. I’m thankful to you for giving him to me though, I know you don’t do it voluntarily. I know I’m not exactly impressive. I’m nothing more than a seamstress when it comes down to it. I can’t fight and I can’t live forever. But I’m okay with that. Even if I never wake up to be with Thor again, if this is the last life I get to live with him and my children then, that’s the way it is.”

You shrug your left shoulder and smile at his mother, really, truly at peace with this fact.

“If you had not said what you said to Ben a few minute ago and if you had not just repeated it for me here, I would not have been able to give you this gift.” Frigga moves towards you, looking serious but welcoming as she stops a foot in front of you. “It is not a gift easily bestowed and I can only give it once. I am happy to say that in this case; the gift will be well given. You are not allowed, Y/N Y/L/N, to leave my son’s side. This will not make you invulnerable to harm, but you will not get sick and most wounds will heal quickly. Fatal wounds will have to be carefully watched as they will heal but only if taken care of properly at the beginning. So, try not to get stabbed in the back.”

You furrow your brow, confused by her words but then she reaches out to press her hand to your forehead and your mind is suddenly bright confusion. You see nothing but golden light. It’s blinding and it washes over you, filling every inch of your body as Frigga’s even voice fills your ears.

“You have my blessing, Y/N to live your life at my son’s side. Not that I could have stopped him even were I alive, but if it matters at all, I wish you both happiness and longevity. Please take care of him and those beautiful children of yours. And just in case my vote counts? I would like to side with Thor and suggest you have many more.”

Her voice fades and the light goes with it, plunging you into darkness.

Thor paces the yard agitated and impatient. “Where are they?”

His demanding voice makes his girls jump and Egil stands to the back, his long blonde hair half pulled up and braided down his back, leaning against the door of the house with his left foot pressed flat against the surface and his arms crossed over his muscular chest.

All of them have changed out of their Avengers garb and instead wear simple clothes, jeans and t-shirts all around, save for Lo who is wearing her favorite yellow dress.

“Daddy, they’ll be back soon.” Rosie assures Thor, moving towards him to try and grab his arm.

“How could Ben take her all the way to Asgard? What Asgard did he take her to? There was nothing left.” He insists, no matter how many times Rosie tells him that there is something left.

“Daddy,” Lo begins but Egil crosses forward to block his father’s path. He’s shorter than both Thor and Ben but taller than the girls. He’s stockier looking because of his height though in relative strength he’s the same as Thor, Ben is still stronger physically but Egil has Thor’s lightning.

“You’re getting the girls all riled up. Calm down. Throwing a fit isn’t going to bring them back any faster.” Egil reasons.

Thor stops in his pacing, stares down at his son and hates the sense that he makes. He reminds Thor of Odin and it unnerves him sometimes.

“I can’t help it.” Thor explains and moves to stand facing the compound. “They have been gone for six hours. Why would he take her there? What if she cannot breathe? What if they meet with some other danger?”

“Ben would never put Mom in danger.” Egil says with a shake of his head. “Dad, please, take a breath. You’re scaring Lo and Rose.”

“I’m not scared.” Lo complains but she’s clinging to Rose’s arm and glaring daggers at Egil.

“You are right.” Thor suddenly says, wiping at his face with his right hand roughly. “He would never put her in harm’s way but I-”

Thor hesitates, hating to show this weakness around his kids. Yeah, sure they’re adults but when it comes to you, their mother, all of them—Thor included—are prone to overreaction.

“We know, Dad. You just got her back. We just got her back.” Egil shakes his head, reaching over to place his hand on Thor’s shoulder, just like Ben taught him to do when Thor gets upset about You. “I get it. You’re scared. But Ben-”

A sudden familiar hiss brings Thor around Egil, eagerly facing the center of the yard as a golden circle begins to glow and grow until it fits two people. Through it Thor can only see space however, stars strewn across black, purple, and magenta skies. He throws his arm back and the whoosh of Stormbreaker fills the air as it hits his hand and he’s almost got himself convinced to just go ahead and leap through that portal for you when a mass of limestone and golden rubble comes into view and then you and Ben suddenly step through.

You teeter for a moment, dizzy from the change in atmosphere and Thor drops Stormbreaker as he races towards you and wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you steady yourself.

Thor knows that look on your face. He quickly gathers your hair up and back in one hand as you pull out of his embrace and then double over as you dry heave onto the grass. There is nothing for you to throw up.

“Sorry, Mom.” Ben sighs, looking at Thor who is fuming at him so much that as he meets his son’s eyes, his eyes spark to life.

Bright blue and sizzling, Thor releases your hair as you stand up slowly and makes to move towards Ben, but you wrap your hand around his wrist and Thor is distracted as he turns to look at you.

Ben sprints away from the two of you, planting himself behind Lo, Rosie, and Egil.

“What happened?” Rosie and Lo, ask Ben in hushed tones.

“Did it work?” Egil adds.

Thor’s eyes and ears, however, are only for you as you sigh heavily, rubbing your chest with your right hand as your left is too busy holding a small ornate box. Thor recognizes the designs on it and reaches out with his right to trace one of the lines on the top.

“Where-?”

“A gift from your mom.” You tell him, then offer it up for him.

Thor takes the box, opens it and examines the small scroll of parchment inside to find the recipe for his favorite cake. He smiles slowly, his beautiful bearded face relaxing as he realizes that you’re home and you’re safe, and now he has this recipe too.

“My mother? But-”

“I don’t know how to explain it Thor. Ben and I were in some small floating island, I walked into this big room with Ben but when I turned around, he was gone, and your mom was there. She gave me a big speech about how I’m not good enough for you and how she doesn’t understand why you and I are still a thing or why we’ve been trying so hard for so long. She said something about me breaking your heart all the time, but she did say that our babies are beautiful. And that Eggy reminds her of Odin and Lo of Loki.”

You smile at this part, because your babies are a source of pride for you too.

“She also said we should definitely have more if we can.” You laugh and Thor laughs too, chuckling softly as he wraps his left arm around your waist at the sound of your laugh.

“And she said that…that I wasn’t allowed to leave your side, ever again. And that if I hadn’t made it so clear that I know that I’ve lived my life and that immortality was nothing but a fantasy and that I didn’t want it, then she wouldn’t have been able to give it to me but…she gave it to me, Thor.”

“What?” Thor asks, his brow puckered.

“Your mother gave me immortality. I’m-I’m not strong like you and the kids. I’m still just a regular human but I won’t get sick anymore. And I’m going to age very slowly, like, slower than Steve slow.” As you laugh, Thor drops the box and reaches up to cup the left side of your face. “And I can still die if I get really hurt but I’m going to heal a lot faster. Even fatal wounds, if we take care of them quickly enough and if we’re careful, I can heal from those too. She gave me her blessing Thor.”

Thor wipes hot tears from your cheeks as you begin to cry, and he struggles to keep himself composed too as he begins to realize that you’ll never leave him again. From this day on, you will be his wife, and he’ll never have to watch you age again, not without him following aging too. He’ll never have to watch you get sick and die again. He’s going to do his damndest to keep you from being injured even if it should kill him, now that he has you forever, he’s going to make sure that nothing and no one will ever hurt you.

“She said I could live my life at your side, puppy.” You sob once and reach up to pull his head down closer to yours until you’re resting your forehead against his.

“I love you, Y/N.” Thor whispers. “So much.”

“And I love you, Thor.” You push yourself up onto your toes to kiss his lips, just a quick loving peck. “And I always will. Forever.”

Forever Tag List @until-theend-oftheline @jessieray98 @dsakita @coldfacedwarf @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @fairislesheets @jewelofwinter @mannls @moonlessnight14 @sovereignoblivious @pandazlazykid @lilulo-12 @moli1497 @shifutheshihtzu @the-real-mary-jane @pastelxvirgo @just4muggles @vulpecula-minor @wildefire @mdgrdians @tiffanynguyen03 @shield-agent78 @i-cant-shine-without-darkness @the-wayward-robot @babytrollgirl @alagalaska @sincerelytlh @theonelittleone @sea040561 @xrosegoldwolfx @peppermintvanillaa @awkwardfangirl2014 @toffeecoloredqueen @crist1216 @xxloki81xx @idk-random-fan-girl @romimiux @badassbaker @this-side-of-midnight5 @booklover2929 @natura1phenomenon @xlittlestarling @whosmarisaaarw

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babybarrie · 6 years ago

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A Lover’s Lament

A very very long ago requested fic by @deepestfirefun

I’m so sorry I never got to this sooner! I hope you can forgive me. 😥 And I hope that what I wrote is to your tastes. I did my best to keep to your request.

Warnings: Minor angst? Some cute fluff at end.

Request: I stumbled upon this one song on YouTube and idea struck me. So Fili x reader (Dunedain) Everything was falling apart around you. Thorin had agreed to take you with them because of your experience in battles, you were one of the Dunedain race. But now Thorin has fallen into dragon sickness and is forcing everyone to search for the Arkenstone. Feeling exhausted and sad you slip away from the others and start walking through the halls of Erebor. You remember one particular song that your grandmother used to sing to you when you were little and started to sing. You don't know that Fili is slowly following you and listening to your singing. He is fallen in love with you but the sake of the quest, he has kept his feelings locked in his heart. But now when he sees your sadness and pain, he decides to tell you that you are his One. Lots of fluff 😀 song the Silmarillion "Luthien's Lament" by Eurielle

"A Dunedain you say?" Thorin slowly approaches you.

"Yes, that I am my lord." you bow

"What weapons are you proficient in? How many battles have you won? If any..." He muses.

"Many and many master dwarf. If you don't want a woman in your company you should just say so Oakenshield..." You smirk as you lift the hood from your head.

A few chuckles go around the room and Thorin is embarrassed.

"Oh, I like her." Dwalin remarks

"She is with us then." Gandalf states with a small smile

You weren’t always sure how to handle Thorin when he was his normal, grumpy self, but now? Things were getting worse, second by second, hour by hour, everyone watched and feared as the noble king, Thorin became the gold-crazed fool of Durin. To you, it felt like Smaug’s greed never left the mountain with him. Instead, it took on a new appearance, one that none of the company were happy to see. You walk among the gold, gems, and stained treasures of Erebor. “Searching” for the king’s jewel in hopes that your “work” satisfied the sicken dwarf. Things were growing more and more bleak as Thorin grew more and more unhinged

"Lass you look lost and tired. Why don't you go and take a break? We'll handle it from here." Balin slowly rose from his crouched posture

“Are you sure? He’s been very...” You look to the masses of money at your feet, saddened by the reminder of what drowned the king in greed.

“We’ll be fine dear. Just go get some rest. Make sure he doesn’t see you though...I’m sorry.” Bofur tries to smile at you then goes back to rummaging through the gold.

“Ok...Please be careful friends...”

You slowly tread across the large room, making sure that you don’t slip on anything. You head over to gold cover floor. The thought of drowning Smaug was certainly an idea but one that didn’t work in any favor. Now the town burns and the floor is covered in more gold. This isn’t what you wanted. Not your leader falling to such a state, not the town burning and humans losing their homes, not the company being in such disarray and panic of their own king, and not you fearing the on the coming war. This isn’t how you thought it would go. You know that there would be tough trials and hard times but this ending wasn’t what everyone deserved.

“Grandmother...What will come of all this? This pain and fear.”

You reminisce on the memories with your family. Your grandmother lying in her bed and singing to you whenever you were feeling sick or when you’ve had a tough day. Your mother rubbing your back and smiling. Your father outside smoking his pipe. and your adopted little brother curled up in your lap, slowly falling asleep to the soft voice of old song.

Oh great Mandos High among Valar I come to you in sorrow And with a broken heart

Long has been my journey That led me to these halls But now I kneel before thee As grief, my spirit calls

I seek a man named Beren Whom I bid await me here I pledged that I would find him Before he leaves this sphere

This man of whom I speak He gave his life for me But thence my soul grew weak And at last, it too broke free

So borne upon an urgent breeze I traveled to this place Where only one thing could appease The torment I now face

Oh tell me I am not too late To see my love once more For that would be too cruel a fate I beg him be restored

That we may take a little time To bid our last farewell And remember all we shared erstwhile Such joy no one could quell

For never was a greater love Than that within our hearts Once born, forever binding us E'en though through death we part

Once born, forever binding us E'en though through death we part

The voice echos in halls. Grief and an odd sense of confusion flow through your notes. Each note, another step you take, another horrid thought flashes through your mind. War, blood, agony, rage, battle cries dissipated to death, and the final blow of a horn. Clutching your arms as you hug yourself tight, nearly losing yourself in the song as each utter emotional definition splits through you.

A small choke of a gasp reverberates in the hallways, turning around you catch a glimpse of what looked like golden sunlight. Ah, your little lion has come for you to take you back to comb through those cursed coins and jewels.

“Do they need my help again little lion?”

You smile as you see Fili come out of the shadows and into the cold light that dances across the golden flooring cast by the large opening in the wall.

“No, I...I just heard someone singing and followed it...I’m sorry to disturb you.”

He’s fidgeting with his hands and feet. Looking down, embarrassed for hiding in the background like a creep.

“Don’t worry, I was just thinking back on my older days as a child. It is one of my favorite songs.” You smile thinking of your grandmother.

“For such a sad song, why do you favor it?”

His eye holds a curious look in them. But there’s more than just curiosity gracing them.

“Indeed it is sad... But it’s the memories that make it so special. My elder would sing it to us when we were young. It was her little way of telling stories. I used to enjoy them immensely.” You sigh with a breath of melancholy.

“I see. I take it that you have many fond memories like that too?” He smiles.

“Yes...Many...But not enough...”

You look down not wanting to press any further into your past. You miss her greatly but you treasure what she has given you. A gift. A blessing. A story to tell.

“I...May I hear that song again?” He gazes at you in wonder.

“Of course, sunshine.”

You sing and sing till you are near the end of the song. You feel calm, almost serene in a way. Being around him always did make you feel at peace. You wonder why...

“Wait...” He stops you before you finish.

You look at him with minute confusion.

“Please...I...I know that this may be sudden and perhaps not the right time but you must know. I have come to care for you these past times. I care for you far more than I will ever admit to anyone else. I always thought that there was something interesting about you aside from the fact that you bested uncle back in the Shire.”

You both chuckle at this recollection. He continues once you’ve calmed.

“But there is far more to you than being interesting. You...you are amazing. You make me laugh even when things are going awry and you make me feel calm even in the most crazed moments. You show kindness even when it shouldn’t be given, you hold a sharp tongue against those who wish to harm those who are important to you, you give the wisest words that even Gandalf would look on and ponder. There is so much about you that I couldn't even put into words.”

You gaze at him with adoration as he studies you with intense loving regard.

“You are everything to me...And I couldn’t hold my heart back from falling in love with you. Amralime. Please. I love you. You are my one and I would give anything and everything to be with you. I will love you even if you don’t return my feelings. I will not trap you with this but I only wish to be at your side for as long as you allow me to be. Protecting you would be an honor, even if you could take me down in one fell swoop.”

You smile and lean down to kiss his forehead and then his cheek. Resting your head against his,

“I return your feelings, love. And yes, I can take you down in one swing. But I’m sure that I could do other things to make you do as I wish.”

You both smirk at the thought and kiss one another.

“I love you, my one.”

“I love you, my little lion. Shall we get back to the company?”

Sighing he nods,

“Yes, we should. I’m sure uncle wouldn’t want us to be taking a break right now.”

Walking back to the treasury, hand in hand, you lean your head on his shoulder.

“We’ll get through this, love...I won’t leave you. I will make sure of it for both of us.”

#the hobbit #fili x reader #fic request #angsty fluff

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thetimelesscycle · 6 years ago

Text

The Hobbit Fanfic: The Heart of Erebor - Chapter 65

Summary: ‘He could stand the wild light in his uncle’s gaze. He withstood the crazed glint that entered the ravenous stares of his companions. He endured seeing the dragon’s greed take them all. But when that madness seeped also into the eyes of his own beloved brother, he knew something had to be done. He just wasn’t expecting it to be this.’-The gold sickness of Erebor claims one more, and the path of destiny is irrevocably changed.

Inspired by the following quote from ‘The Hobbit’: “So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind-except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili.”

*Cover Art Courtesy of Toastytoastie

/THE HEART OF EREBOR\

ACT VI -The King Beneath the Mountain-

Chapter 65

The Madness of Hope

It seemed strange to think that it had been less than a year ago that Kìli had stood upon the wall above Erebor’s shattered gate, believing all he had ever loved in the world was about to come to a violent and terrible end. He had been alone, abandoned and friendless, more afraid than he had ever been in his life, and certain that he was about to die. The despair he had felt in that moment remained engraved in his heart as one of the worst moments of his short life, and the days that had followed it had been no better, filled with grief and loss and pain.

And yet, it was just an echo now, an event that had been and gone. A past that felt far more distant than the short, intervening months should have allowed. He was doing his best to overlay such fading recollections with new memories, happier memories, not just for himself, but for those around him as well.

Some days it was easier than others. When wounds still raw were not yet open and weeping, and he could be enough to wrench a smile from beneath Fìli’s preoccupied frown, or to scatter the dark clouds that formed over his uncle’s head, to chase away the haunting memories that gripped his mother. Other days the events of the past were a weight they all felt, a veritable hammer above all their heads, just waiting for the opportune moment to pound them into the anvil of cruel fate.

The battles they had survived had left their scars, and he knew they would take time to fade; to heal.

Thorin’s coronation would go a long way towards accomplishing that, or so he hoped. Their victory certainly felt more certain now that the crown was resting upon his uncle’s brow. Now that oaths had been sworn and old alliances reformed. He was proud to have played a part in that, no matter how small that part might have been in the grand scheme of things. Proud of what they had accomplished, rising from the ashes of wrath and ruin to restore the Line of Durin to its rightful place amidst the Seven. Had this been one of Balin’s epics, the adventure would have ended the moment Thorin took his rightful place upon the throne. Sadly, if this quest had taught him anything at all, it was that the stories of old only ever told half the tale.

His own experiences had given him a new appreciation for the moments that the historians forgot. Those events deemed unimportant by the scholars who chose to study such things, dismissed in favour of great battles and the speeches that followed them. There would no doubt be countless retellings of the celebration that had marked the return of Erebor’s king, each more ridiculous than the last, especially with the inclusion of their elven guests. But he doubted anyone would remember him slipping away from the gathering, confident his absence would not be noticed with the festivities in full swing, to seek a moment’s solitude and reflection in what was swiftly becoming one of his favourite haunts.

The view from the wall above Erebor’s gate was a world away from what it had been months before. Gone was the pool of dammed water, meant to hold the war camp that had lain further down the valley at bay. Gone were the dotted gatherings of campfires, the sound of voices and metal carried on the wind. Gone was the terrible aftermath, the rows upon rows of dead and the stench of the wounded and the dying. Peace had slowly crept in to take the place of it all, nature gently wiping away the blood spilt upon its back, until nothing remained to speak of the tragedies that had unfolded in this place.

Where once the sight had brought him nothing but dread, Kíli could now take comfort in the vista laid out on the mountain’s doorstep. It was a sign of healing. A sign that, no matter the suffering that had passed here, time marched ever onwards, knitting over old wounds, bringing new hope to lift the afflicted from the mire of tragedy’s aftermath. He needed that faith right now as much as he had needed it then, a light to cling to, a vision of the future he could lay before others when darkness ensnared their thoughts and despair sunk its claws in deep.

Perched upon the parapet’s edge, his heels drumming an irregular beat against the stone seams, he let himself revel in the tranquility. It had been a long time since he had had a chance to simply sit and think, the world flowing peaceably by, and he intended to make the most of the moment while it lasted. Below him the celebration would continue, not stopping until well after the sun began to peek over the horizon. He did not begrudge them that, they had earned the right to their revelry, but he did not feel the need to join them. His victory was a quieter triumph, one he hoped he would be able to enjoy for years to come.

“There you are,” Fìli’s voice interrupted his musings, his brother’s uneven stride accompanied by the ‘thwap’ of his cane on the stone floor, and Kìli frowned briefly, wondering when Fìli had found time to retrieve it, and why he hadn’t asked someone to assist him up the stairs. His brother was not likely to appreciate either enquiry, however, so he held his tongue, keeping his gaze turned outwards as Fìli crossed the space between them. “You’re missing Bofur’s rousing rendition of The Cat Jumped Over the Moon.”

Kìli snorted, easily able to picture what such a thing would entail. He had, after all, seen it before. “A request from Elrohir?”

“Well, he did miss the original performance whilst we were in Rivendell.” Coming to stand beside him, Fìli leant his forearms on the wall, taking some of the weight off his bad leg. He waited a beat, letting the gentle breeze fill the space between them, then he asked, “What’s bothering you, Ki?”

“Nothing.” At his brother’s sharp look, he elaborated. “I really mean that, Fìli. Nothing is wrong right now. We’ve won. Erebor is at peace, Thorin has been crowned, and I… I think maybe I just wanted a moment to let that sink in. We’ve been so busy trying to make sure that everything else goes smoothly that there just hasn’t been time to… to… to just be.”

“I know what you mean.” Fìli nodded, his words a murmur. “It’s been months, and yet sometimes this still doesn’t feel real. Like a dream that could end at any minute.”

“I’m sure it will seem real enough once we actually have to take part in ruling Erebor,” Kìli interjected lightly, unwilling to surrender his hardwon sense of peace. “All those letters to write and documents to sign. My hand is aching just thinking about it.” That earned him an amused look, which he returned, before continuing in a more thoughtful vein, “In many ways, tonight is an ending, and not just for Bilbo’s book.”

Fìli cast him a curious look, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. “What do you mean?”

“We set out from Ered Luin to reclaim our home,” Kìli reminded him, rubbing his hands together in his lap. “To take back a mountain from a dragon. It sounded simple enough to us at the time, I’m sure, and it could be argued that that journey ended when Smaug was slain. But I don’t think Erebor was ours again, not truly, until today.”

“You think you’ll be happy, then?” Fìli enquired, his tone mild, but his words earnest. “Calling Erebor home now?”

“My family is home.” Kìli shot him a wry grin. “It really doesn’t matter where we live.”

“Even if it means being a proper prince?” His brother challenged, and Kìli laughed.

“Even then. I think I’m starting to understand that there are worse fates.”

Fìli was silent for a long moment, staring out into the night, and his words, when they came, were almost a confession. “I don’t know if I can look at it the way you do. Sometimes… Sometimes this all feels like a prison, and I don’t know if that will ever change. Everyone says it will just take time, but…”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Kìli ventured, unsure if Fìli wanted him to speak, or was simply airing his fears aloud. “And you don’t have to stay, Fì. If going back to Ered Luin would help, or paying a visit to Rivendell, then that is what you should do. Erebor doesn’t have to come first.”

“And that is why you are not going to be king,” Fìli teased him, if weakly. “Your priorities are all askew.”

“I am going to be your advisor,” Kìli reached across to swat his sibling lightly on the head. “And that gives me leave, oh future king, to rearrange your priorities however I please.”

Fìli raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. “I do not see that working for Balin.”

“Yes, well, we both know Uncle Thorin is far too stubborn for such a strategy to be effective.”

“Oh.” Now he was affecting offence. “And I am more easily persuaded?”

“Of course. I will simply fill your room with boxes of apples fresh from Dale’s orchards and you will be halfway to Rivendell before you can say ‘burglar’.”

“Apples?” Fìli groaned. “Kìli, how could you betray me like this? Throwing your lot in with my one, true nemesis.”

“And here I was thinking that was stairs.”

“Hey.” Fìli’s indignant shove nearly sent his brother tumbling right off the wall. Laughing, Kìli overcompensated, falling backwards instead to land at his elder’s feet. Fìli glared down at him, imperious, and that only made him laugh harder until Fìli let out an annoyed huff and lowered himself down to sit beside his sibling. “You are an ass.”

Still chuckling, Kìli reached out to pat Fìli’s knee in only half mocking apology, before settling back with both his arms behind his head. His shoulder twinged slightly at the motion, but it was a passing pain, easily ignored as he let his eyes settle on the starlit sky above. Fìli was only a moment in joining him, the sigh that escaped his lips one of contentment more than sorrow, and Kìli was willing to let the silence stretch, a blanket of comfortable familiarity between them both.

He had meant what he said. Tonight was an ending. The end of the quest to reclaim Erebor, the end of so many fears; so many battles and old, untended wounds. The end of one chapter, and yet the beginning of another. The next day would dawn with Thorin as Erebor’s King, with Fìli and Kìli as princes and councillors officially sworn into their new roles. There would be decisions to make, meetings to attend, alliances to cement, duties to uphold. It should have terrified him, the weight of responsibility upon his - upon their - shoulders, but he was not afraid.

The Line of Durin had survived dragon fire, had survived madness and death and treachery. Though the challenges that lay before them were great, Kìli was surprised to realise that they no longer daunted him as they once had. Something had shifted, in the moment Thorin had been crowned, or before that even, when he had placed the Arkenstone in the hands of his fallen uncle and felt the rightness of that choice. He had no doubt that there would be further mistakes going forward, choices that would gnaw away at him, reminding him of the lives he was responsible for, the duties a Son of Durin could not escape.

But he was not alone.

That which he had sacrificed to try and save had been restored to him, a reward for his faith, a lesson learned and remembered. He had been prepared to give the Arkenstone away like a worthless trinket because he was afraid of losing that which he held most dear, and in so doing he had uncovered the true Heart of the Mountain. It was not the jewel that had so bewitched Thror and Thorin after him, or the gold that ran in rivers within the treasuries of the king. No, the beating heart of the Lonely Mountain was to be found in the merrymaking taking place in the Great Hall, in the laughter ringing out from every corner, in the quiet that had settled over he and his brother, restful and content. These moments, and the bonds that forged them, were what gave Erebor life; riches that could never be measured or bought.

It had taken him a long time to realise that simple truth, to understand that that was what he was sworn to protect, as a Son of Durin, a Prince of Erebor. He would never be a ruler with the power and authority that Thorin wielded, nor did he have Fìli’s sense of duty and calm steadiness, but he was beginning to realise that lack was not the failing he had always assumed it to be. The Seven may well have been right in their assertions that he would have made a poor king, caring too much for one thing and too little for the other, but he didn’t need to be what they thought he should be.

He had been spared the gold sickness because he had no use for wealth. He had given the Arkenstone away because Thorin and Fìli and the Company were simply more important in his eyes. He had turned his back on his birthright to gamble instead on the slim chance his kinsmen were alive. He had sought aid from those considered to be the enemy without a second’s thought. He had made so many choices that had caused others to shake their heads in scorn or despair or both. And yet… he could not regret the future those choices had brought him. A future that might never have been had he listened to the words of others. Had he chosen to believe as they did, and abandon a course of action they had deemed madness.

And it had been. He recognised that now. Not gold sickness or the dragon’s curse or grief or rage, but his own kind of insanity. To trust in good fortune in lands that had long been abandoned by the same. To believe when all others beliefs had died. To dare to stand against the tide and rage at the abyss… what else was that but madness? A year ago, he had sat atop this same wall and wished that he could share in the sickness that had taken his friends from him, his family. He had known it was wrong, but he had wished it all the same, never once realising that the curse of Erebor's treasure had found no foothold in his mind because another madness had already preceded it. So he could ask himself the same question again now; Was it wrong to wish for madness? And the answer, too, would be unchanged.

Yes.

Yes, it was.

For madness had already taken him.

The madness of hope.

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raendown · 6 years ago

Link

Pairing: ObitoShisui Word count: 1790 Soulmate au: The one where each morning there is written on your arm an event which will happen to your soulmate that day

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Chapter 122: Obito/Shisui

Obito made it three steps in the front door of the hotel before a massive hand caught hold of his collar and he found himself hauled in to the air, feet kicking at empty space and hands scrambling to hold on to the straps of his backpack. He was barely in to his teens but Obito wished he would just hit his growth spurt already so that no one could do this to him anymore. Not that he didn’t know exactly who it was holding him up by the neck.

“You,” a familiar voice growled in his ear, “are going to behave yourself this weekend.”

“Madara-ji. How nice to see you too!” Obito made an effort to twist his body and offer a friendly smile to the looming figure behind him. Instead of greeting him in return, Madara shook him like a rag doll.

“I mean it. If I have to put out a single fire this weekend I will sic Tobirama on you.”

Shuddering at the thought of having to deal with his uncle’s crazy scientist husband, Obito hoped his nodding made him look innocent and pure. “Of course! No fires, I promise! Er, can I go back to the ground now?”

With a great harrumph Madara dropped him. Obito stumbled and hurried away as soon as he managed to find his feet again, rushing in to the venue with no idea where he was going but a great amount of confidence he would find his way somehow. The building was absolutely crawling with people he knew would be willing to help him if he asked.

One of the largest clans left in Fire Country, able to trace their ancestry all the way back to the original founders of the village Obito had been born in, the Uchiha clan had since spread out to all four corners of the elemental nations. He wasn’t sure whose idea it had been to have a massive reunion for them all but he was grateful to whoever it was. Konoha was but a mere shadow of its former glory; any excuse to get out of town for a while was a blessing and the chance to meet members of his distant family was even more so. The only family Obito ever saw was his crotchety Uncle Madara and the frail grandmother he had lived with since he was a baby.

Pushing up his sleeve to check the words on his arm for perhaps the fifteenth time that morning, Obito grinned and headed towards a bunch of teenagers who looked his age, most of them blessed with the distinctive Uchiha looks. Meeting new people was always a delight but it was only half he reason he was so excited for this weekend. This morning his already high excitement had tripled upon waking up to see the event that his soulmate would experience today was “will meet their soulmate”.

As he had for the entire drive here, Obito spent his morning in a state of joy he’d heard referred to as walking on air. Every corner of every room and every new person he met felt as though they were filled with possibilities. He shook every hand he could and forgot more names than he remembered, bouncing from place to place until he found Uncle Madara tucked away in the hotel bar with his husband, both of their looking supremely uncomfortable surrounded by so many strangers.

“Find ‘em yet?” his uncle grunted. Obito shook his head.

“I will!”

“You’ve got dirt on your face, you know.”

“What!?”

Obito spun around to peer over at the mirror behind the bartender, mortified to see that there was indeed a giant streak of dirt down on side of his face. There was no telling how long it had been there or how many people had been too polite to say anything, though it was probably from leaning his face against the window in the car. What an excellent first impression he’d been making! Trying to scrub off the mark with the heel of his hand did nothing so Obito hurried back out of the room to where he’d seen a sign for the public toilets.

The first thing he saw when he burst in to the bathroom was a tall thin boy a few years older than himself, perfect brows folded inwards to form the most aristocratic frown he’d ever seen.

“You should find another bathroom,” the boy said. Obito wrinkled his nose.

“I just wanna use the sink and the mirror,” he said.

From inside one of the stalls there came an ominous rattling. “Ah, let him fix his hair,” a new voice called. “Someone in this joint needs to look good.”

“We are Uchiha,” the tall boy pointed out. “We all look good. Now quit being melodramatic and can we please find somewhere more sanitary to spend our time?”

“I am in the throes of depression, my lowest hour, and if I want to hang out in a toilet I will!”

“Could it at least be a more private toilet?”

Obito inched towards the sink, grabbing a few paper towels on the way. As he dipped them in the water and scrubbed at the dirt mark on his face, he kept one ear tilted towards the voice over in the corner, eavesdropping shamelessly. Movies always made family drama sound so interesting but the only drama he ever got to see was when Uncle Tobirama tried to do science in the kitchen.

He watched in the mirror as the boy apparently named Itachi rubbed at the bridge of his nose and gave a snooty huff at whoever was hidden in the last stall of the row.

“You are making a big deal out of something small.”

“Am not,” the other voice replied. For someone who was apparently depressed they sounded particularly upbeat, cheerful even. Obito noted that his face was completely clean now but he kept scrubbing anyway. This conversation was the most interesting he’d heard so far today.

“Please come out, Shisui. You know exactly who arrived today and if he catches us doing what I think you’re doing there will be trouble. I don’t want trouble. Mother says I can’t go to Math Camp if I get in trouble.”

“Only you would be enough of a nerd to think having Math Camp taken away is a punishment.”

Itachi blinked slowly. “I enjoy math. Now put down the lighter and let’s go.”

More curious than ever, Obito finally turned the taps off and tossed his paper towel in the bin. He decided against making any efforts to hide his actions, instead marching over to where the two others were talking and popped his head around the door before Itachi could react. Considering their conversations he had expected to see someone in the toilet stall with a cigarette or a pilfered bottle of alcohol, perhaps even partaking in some sort of recreational drug.

What he found was a boy a few years older than himself trying to get a flame from his lighter so he could set off the bottle rockets he’d strapped to the back of the tank. ‘Shisui’ looked up at him with a wild grin.

“Hey there! What’s your name?”

“Obito.”

“Do you like fire, Obito?”

“I love fire but Madara-ji said he’d be watching me like a hawk today.”

“You see?” Itachi huffed beside him. “Even he knows not to cross Madara-sama. Can we stop this foolishness?”

Shisui waved him off, eyes set on Obito. “Nonsense. What that old wind bag doesn’t know won’t kill him. Do you want to help me light the rockets Obito?”

“Alright!” Obito dove inside the stall with stars in his eyes, beyond happy to have met someone who shared his propensity for mayhem, and reached out to take the lighter from the older boy. The moment their fingers met a spark jumped between their skin and they both snatched their hands back. Obito looked back and forth between his fingers and Shisui.

“Holt shit,” the other murmured.

“Doesn’t that mean–?”

“Pull up your sleeve! What’s your event for today say!?” Obito held still as Shisui lunged for his arm and pulled up his sleeve, reading it out loud. “Will meet their soulmate. How come yours is so straight forward and mine isn’t!?”

“W-what’s yours say?”

Shisui rolled up his sleeve to show off the black writing curled down his forearm, which read “will fall in love”. As soon as he read it Obito promptly turned red in the face and clutched at the straps of his backpack as though they might steady him against the embarrassment. He was intrigued, sure, but anyone would be to find a soulmate as awesome as Shisui – and they barely even knew each other! It was hard to imagine how much more amazing the other boy would be once they got to know each other a little better.

“I thought you were going to fall in love with someone and then maybe someday we would meet and find out we were meant to be platonic soulmates! Don’t get me wrong, platonic is fine. It’s fine! But…”

“That’s not what you wanted?” Obito ventured. Shisui snapped his fingers.

“Exactly.”

“So…you were going to light bottle rockets in a hotel bathroom…because you thought your soulmate was going to fall in love with someone else?”

The other boy twisted his mouth to one side wryly. “Well anything will sound silly if you say it in that tone. Look, what I do in my utter devastation is my business.”

“Do we really need to keep up the dramatics?” Itachi asked from behind them. Instead of looking at all embarrassed by his own behavior, Shisui gave a haughty sniff and held his lighter aloft once more, clicking it a few times until he finally got a flame going.

“Speak for yourself, Drama King. Hey – Obito, right? – do you still wanna light some rockets with me?”

“Of course!” Shuffling closer, Obito all but plastered himself to Shisui’s side, a massive grin splitting his face

While Itachi groaned behind them and muttered about leaving so they couldn’t drag him down in to their mayhem, Obito and Shisui both huddled closer to the rockets strapped to the tank of the toilet, giggling like a pair of children. As the first fuse lit and the familiar scent of burning met his nose, Obito couldn’t help but send out a silent prayer of thanks to the universe for bringing him someone so perfect.

Just as the other boy’s arm had predicted, he was pretty sure he was already in love. Finding his soulmate was worth every hour of the endless lecture Uncle Madara made them sit through once he caught them.

#rae writes #soulmate collection #obishi #obito #shisui #fanfiction #naruto shippuden

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ardynium · 7 years ago

Text

New thingie for Dad!Cor, Uncle Ardyn and the sunshine boy, still for the #kinkmeme. This one is long. And comes in parts. And has a title. Rest of the stories is collected here on AO3, for your reading pleasure.

Family Reunion 1

When Prompto's phone buzzed the tenth time in a row, he decided that it was probably important enough to step out of the movie he was watching. All messages from Noct. [prom] [PROM] [prompto are you home?] [is your UNCLE home???] [its finally happened] [my dad has TIME] [you know what that means right??] [of6 hes on his way now] [tell me your uncle isnt home] [fuck this ill call you] Visitors? Today was not a day for visitors. Nobody had told him there would be visitors today, and today was a bad day anyway, and he was in his pajamas only because Cor had promised him something nice when he put them on. Ardyn opened the door nonetheless. Stared. Stared at polished shoes. Pinstripes. A legbrace. More pinstripes. A beard and a friendly face. "Oh no. Not you." He closed the door. Breathed hard. Opened again, just to make sure he was really there.

Regis Lucis Caelum, current ruler of this city and country, was indeed there, and blinking in mild confusion at the scene unfolding before him. Checked with a side-glance if this was the right place. The sign on the door did say Leonis - it was. "Good afternoon," he said. "This is probably not the right place." The red-haired mess stared at him with an utter lack of respect. "Well, this is probably the right place, but this is... Tea?" This had to be the 'other relative' Cor had mentioned a few times - the one he did not talk about unless necessary. He was starting to get a vague idea why, and as he looked at him, a vague memory scratched at the back of his head. Hadn't he himself...? Oh well. He would simply have come back another time, but it had taken him literal years to carve this afternoon out of his schedule. He smiled. "Yes, please."

It had been hard enough to convince Clarus that he would be good up here on his own, that it would be really enough to place some of his men outside, and in the end, his shield had agreed to keep things as discreet as possible, for Noct's sake.

"You may sit there." He pointed at a rather comfy looking chair. "And you are here because of your son. Want to see how his friend's home looks like. Reasonable, very reasonable." He busied himself in the kitchen, fixing tea. Staring at the cake. It was his cake, but it had too many nuts, and while he wasn't opposed to nuts, everything had to be in regulation. "That is indeed why I'm here, yes. Thank you." Regis sat in the designated chair and looked around. It was a decent place, and it looked lived in, in a reassuring dents in the couch cushions, pictures on the walls kind of way. A surprise - not really what he had expected Cor's place to look like - but a pleasant surprise.

"You, of course, are acutely aware he is not feeling well." Ardyn had decided to share this cake, so he brought some slices to the table, together with the tea.

A frown. "I was hoping he'd fare a little better while he is here, at least." "Oh, he does. Does not even notice himself, and neither does the fledgling but I..." He dipped some of the cake into his mug, "...I see the shadows of his ancestors quite clearly." Regis' hand stopped on the way to the tea cup, just for a moment. He resumed to pick it up, then took a closer look at his host. There was something about that face that seemed familiar, quite literally so. Couldn't be, though. "Who are you?" "If you don't know that, I might as well be... John. John is a nice name, don't you think?" Ardyn beamed at the king. Close up, he seemed to be a rather nice person. Worth of cake. "It is, and this is some really good tea." He smiled. "I'm sorry, I'm sure my son mentioned your name at some point, but I seem to have forgotten." "Oh, I'm rather sure he did not. Calls me uncle, like the fledgling does. But what's a name for a boy his age? Nothing more then a name. No stories, and no memories. How pleasant that must be." Moods flew through him today like clouds over the sky on a windy day. "To be carefree is the privilege of the young and the foolish. Best we can do is let them enjoy it while it lasts." A shadow over the king's smile, just for a moment. “This may be true for most, but not for all, and not for one that bears the world's fate upon his slender shoulders.“ A part of his cake had fallen into Ardyn's tea, so he looked rather sad. The shadow grew darker, and the smiled started to fade. "That's not exactly common knowledge." “Oh yes, I know. Would you like cream with that? I would like some cream.“ Ardyn beamed. He liked having the Lucis Caelum some well deserved bad mood. Regis took a deep breath. Tea, and cake, and a potentially dangerous secret. "Certainly, if you don't mind," he said. "Then how do you know?" Again, it was the face that made him ask. "What is your part in this?" Ardyn wandered into the kitchen to get some cream in a spraycan, for the easy fix. “Take a wild guess, Regis.“ Pushing denial out of the way was hard work for most people on their best days, but the boulder Regis had to move was large, and heavy, and not exactly shaped to roll easily. Ardyn could watch the whole process play out on his face. He sprayed a smiley face on the slices of cake and watched him in delight. Another deep breath, and a little more tea, staring at the face on his cake. Regis finally cleared his throat. "You look taller in the murals."

“And I gained a few pounds since then, but then you always look like a better version of yourself in official portraits. Would you like a drink? I am quite sure Cor won't mind.“ If there had ever been a moment where a drink had been more appropriate, Regis couldn't remember it. He nodded. Ardyn brought him a glass with ice and, after a moment of hesitation, the whole bottle of gin. “Cor drinks this on really bad days, and I suppose this counts as one for you? Oh well, I do not blame anyone who is not keen on family visitations.“ "... not as bad as it could be." Still, he poured, and he drank.

The prophecy certainly didn't say anything about a man in a bathrobe who looked as tired as Regis felt, or about the young Chosen King hanging out with his 'nephew'. Something wasn't going quite as it was written, and maybe there was a chance in that. There was a number of issues that could be addressed here, a whole lot of questions asked. He summed them up in one. "So," Regis said, "where do we go from here?" “We could play something. Chess maybe, or Scrabble. Or we could talk about if it wouldn't be a grand old idea to lock me up somewhere where I can hurt neither you nor your boy.“ Coming from a man in pajamas with bunnies on them, even if they were quite obviously tailored, the latter sounded rather strange. "I thought about it for a moment, but somehow I get the feeling that locking you up would be a pointless exercise." The king picked up the plate with his slice of cake, and calmly cut a piece off with his fork. "And then there is the curious fact that you had plenty of time and opportunity to hurt Noctis, and yet never harmed a hair on his head." “Even though he might need a haircut, but who am I to talk.“ Ardyn stuck with tea and cake, and he smiled shyly. “Your boy has done nothing to deserve being part of horrible game they decided to play, and I... I'm so very tired of it.“ "I can only begin to imagine." This was difficult. Not hard as such, if it meant possibly saving his son, but difficult. As his ancestors before him, his whole life had been informed by his duty, and his duty was bound to devotion, to the Crystal, to Bahamut, to the Gods. If he remained faithful, if his family literally gave their life to the cause, the kingdom would be safe. Only that wasn't true anymore

It seemed that after more than two millennia, the bargain was finally off. It had only been meant to be upheld until the appearance of the Chosen King. That he was going to die early was a matter of fact he had come to terms with, but it became clearer year by year that in the end, the sacrifice would be for naught - no Wall would keep Niflheim at bay. Neither his kingdom nor his child were safe. This was difficult, and uncomfortable, but then again, the last ten years had been nothing but a chain of difficult and uncomfortable decisions. "What keeps us from laying down the cards and leaving the table?" “That your boy will have to kill me in the end, because he might be the only way out for me.“ Ardyn seemed to shrink with these words. “And that I fear his sickness is part of the Prophecy, and that they might try to end him if he does not play along.“ Blackness welled up in his eyes, and he wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I'm not ready to die yet. Have hardly lived.“ Regis frowned. "I think we can agree that even if we play by the rules, all of this is meant to happen once Noctis is king, and I plan on delaying that for as long I can. Time we can use to find a way around all of this."

“How I wish you to be right, child, and wise. There is one thing I have to ask of you, though.“ "Which is?" “Do not blame your Heart. I do not know if he knows by now or if he just prefers not to think about it, but he took me in out of sheer kindness, and he was the first to show such kindness in ages. He bears with me, and I am grateful for it. Not as my Shield, but as my friend, and those are hard to come by.“ The golden eyes were very focused now, shining like coins in the afternoon sun. "I won't."

The king smiled. "One of the few things I can promise, these days." Ardyn nodded slowly. "I do not envy you, child. Too well do I know your burden." Being called "child" was more than just a little odd, even if it made sense here. He was just about to reply when there was the staccato sound of a key being too hastily fumbled into a lock, and the door opened. "I'm home! Uncle Ardyn?" There was a slightly panicked edge to the voice that the boy wasn't good at disguising. "Ah, fledgling. Fancy meeting you here. Would you mind a round of Rummy with two old men? It is rather boring if only we play." Prom knew that air of seriousness that hung over them only too well from grown-up-talks, but there was at least no bloodshed, only cake. Nobody was in chains or threatening anyone with anything sharp or black, either. A short glance out of the window - no flying garulas. Noct owed him lunch.

"Sure," he said with a relieved smile. "I'll... just take my stuff back to my room first." "Do that. And hang the laundry while you're at it, will you?" They waited patiently until they heard the door to the boy's room. "You wanted to say something, child." "Only that the chance to turn the tide, as small as it may be, lifts that burden a little. Now, just to clarify," Regis said, "I would be correct in saying that everyone involved in this - everyone who is not a God - simply wants to live a normal, dignified life with a somewhat respectable mortal life span?" "I think this is what I want, indeed," his ancestor answered after short silence. "I'd be willing to help, even. Might have to." "I agree. Any plan with any chance of success would hinge on your cooperation, at the very least." The king thought for a moment, his eyebrows slowly knitting together in a frown. "And on Noctis being aware of it." "And him being willing. I thought about forcing him, but... there is cake, and puppies, and the fledgling, and..." Ardyn's voice broke. "I am glad that you found a place to call home." Nothing good could have come of leaving him to his own devices. Neither for the man himself, nor for Noct, or Lucis, or the world at large. "I am very aware that this is what keeps me here, child, and I try my hardest to let it." Some of Cor's gin ended up in his empty mug. His hands shivered. "The young oracle. You may not allow she follows my path." "How so?" Ardyn emptied his cup. Put it on the table. Started pouring tea. "This is her taking the pain of strangers, like I used to do. Taking their darkness." He kept on pouring. "Things are good for quite a while. She'll bear it. Get used to it. Won't hurt that much anymore. You can keep smiling." And he kept pouring. The mug spilled over, dark tea running over the table, dripping down on the carpet. "This is me." "I see," Regis said. After a moment of thought, he added, "On the long run we will need her support, too. I don't think she would knowingly work against a plan that leads to less bloodshed. Then again, I haven't seen the girl since she was twelve. It does defy divine will, and she is the oracle." “Doing what she does isn't exactly the best for your sanity.“ Ardyn's grin had more than a tinge of desperation, and he only now noticed that his little demonstration might leave stains on the carpet, so he went to get towels. "So we have not only Noctis and you to save, but Lunafreya as well." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And there is a deadline, so to speak - we need to act before the girl loses it and sets events into motion that we cannot stop." Like waking the Gods. That would be a problem. "She might be reasoned with, if she is alone. You know how to play Rummy, don't you?" A slight nod into the direction the boy had disappeared in, and a door opening. Regis nodded. "I do." "I can take a little longer with the laundry," Prompto said, with an awkward smile and both eyebrows raised, pointing a thumb over his shoulder back out of the room. "If that helps."

"Will you stay for dinner, Regis? That would be nice. It has been a while since we had a guest." "With pleasure. I haven't really had the chance yet to see the rest of the family, have I?" “Then I shall make a dinner fit for a king. Fledgling? Grab a pen and join us for a while, I have a list to make!“ Prompto rolled his eyes - he was sixteen, it happened automatically - and turned to grab that pen and paper. “So. I will need...“ He dictated a whole lot of things, and after he was half through his order, Prom knew what it would be: homemade ramen. In uncle's world, serving someone a bowl of that stuff was close to a confession of love. His Majesty must have done something really right. So that had gone a lot better than expected, and he was getting ramen night out of it, too. Sweet. The only question that remained was how dinner would go once his dad came back home. He should probably give him a warning that yes, Ardyn was home. Prompto simply assumed that Cor knew where the king was. So the minute he went out to get the ingredients, he wrote a text, [guest f dinner, all ok, uncle makes ramen] That should about cover it. "Do you have preferences for dessert, Regis?" Prom's phone vibrated. [Surprising.]

[a freakin miracle. need anything from the store?]

"I think you can never go wrong with ice cream." [May need a drink.]

"Oh, I do think you can go quite wrong with ice, but never with chocolate. So, fledgling, you'll bring...," and his list continued. The evening would end in a coma, but one that was caused by food. [gin's open] Another text before Prompto went back to taking notes, this one to Noct: [ur dad stays f dinner, u owe me lunch.] [Shit. Have an eye on him. I'm coming.]

The last time uncle Ardyn had been seriously drunk had been years ago. Prompto had been at a sleepover, and Ardyn had been worried . Dad never told him exactly what happened, but there had been blood and tears, and Dad had been to hospital. With a few drinks and a good mood, uncle was simply excellent company. [will do]

"Okay, right, I think I'm gonna need a truck for that." "Why don't you get your friend? Should be enough for one more." It easily would be, and maybe for breakfast. "Really?" Excitement or annoyance? There was no way to tell. He looked down at his phone again pretty much immediately.

[u just got invited. (help. ><)] [am i beesee? Oo]

“Why not? The whole family gathered. That would be nice, wouldn't it?“ The look that Ardyn threw him gave Regis the very distinct feeling that his ancestor was just screwing with the teenager and enjoying himself immensely. [no ur not ffs] [it's my uncle + ur dad] [my dad? here soon] [get me out or haul ur ass over here] Regis had a hard time hiding his grin. The beard helped a little. [are we getting ENGAGED?!] “Do you think you can be back in half an hour, fledling? Then I'll start with the dough now.“ ( "Yeah, sure." [凸(｀△´＋）] “You want to help, Regis? You can sieve the flour. That is a pretty important part.“ Even Prompto noticed this uncle was talking to the King like he was a kid. And that the King was, very patiently, letting him - at least in these four walls. Still, he needed to get out of here now. Prompto grabbed his backpack and fled.

#dad!cor #papa!cor #kinkmeme #ardyn izunia #regis lucis caelum #noctis lucis caelum #noctis #threes company #cor leonis

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cookieswriting · 8 years ago

Text

Just Thought I’d Check in on My Beloved - Pt. 6a

“I cannot honestly say that I ever expected you to reach this day, nephew. You have done House Montague proud; we will be far more powerful than the Capulets now.” It took Benvolio every ounce of self-control not to roll his eyes. Of course, even on his wedding day, all his uncle could see was power. Damiano Montague finished adjusting Benvolio’s ceremonial cape, patted his shoulder, and was gone with an off-handed comment about last minute arrangements with Lord Capulet.

Giddy excitement washed away any annoyance Benvolio felt, and he shook his head with a grin. He was like a young maiden, stomach fluttering at the thought of the day to come. Today, he would claim his beloved as his own. Today, they would be able to escape the drama of the feud. Today, they could pretend that there were no responsibilities, no obligations...that they were simply a couple madly in love.

At least the latter part rang true, something for which Benvolio counted himself grateful every day. The beautiful, intelligent, stubborn, brave heiress to House Capulet had chosen to see beyond his name, beyond his reputation and their early tensions, and entrusted him with her heart. Some days he could not believe that they’d come so far, that they were truly marrying for the sake of their devotion to one another.

“Lady Rosaline should be ready soon, my lord. The ceremony will not be long now,” one of the Capulet servants shared. Benvolio nodded to him with a smile. A sudden thought struck him, and he turned for the door.

“I shall return shortly, please wait for me here if she is ready before I return?” The man bowed respectfully, and Benvolio ducked out into the hallway. With little difficulty, he found his way to his lady’s suite and paused right outside the door.

“You look stunning, dear sister,” Livia’s voice drifted to him. Both girls giggled, and Benvolio could no longer resist the draw to step in and sneak a glance at his betrothed. First he saw Livia, looking lovely in the dress she’d found during their visit to the market. The available men of Verona would be foolish to ignore her beauty.

And he would be a grand fool indeed if he did not recognize the vision that was his beloved. She stood alongside her sister, gown accentuating her beauty and giving her flawless skin a radiant glow. Or perhaps the glow was all her own, he realized with a tender smile. Her eyes were shining with what he could only describe as joy, and he knew with unwavering certainty that it was for him.

“Could you not have resisted for another hour, Montague?”

Livia’s amused voice startled him, and he blinked in surprise to see both sisters watching him, Rosaline through the reflection of her mirror. Livia squeezed Rosaline’s arm with a grin, and raised a brow at Benvolio as she passed him, giving them a moment alone. The Montague chuckled and shook his head, before turning his gaze to the mirror. The smile fell from his lips as he got a better look at his soon-to-be wife. She stood perfectly still, lips parting slightly as her eyes followed his movement, and her eyelids fluttered when he met her gaze. Gentle curls fell about her lovely face, and when he reached out to touch them, they proved to be as soft as they looked. His fingers then fell to the slope of her neck, where he felt her racing heartbeat. Benvolio swallowed thickly, images dancing across his mind of what might take place the next time they find themselves alone.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached around her for the necklace he could not wait to take off as he’d already imagined when she first showed it to him. “You know as well as I that it is not proper for a man to be alone with his betrothed before the wedding ceremony,” she chided. The breathless quality of her voice threatened to unravel him, and he could not hide the tremor in his hand as he settled the necklace against her skin.

He held the ends of the necklace together with one hand so that he could reach up with the other to draw her hair over her shoulder. He could not resist the way the newly-exposed expanse of her throat called to be touched, and as soon as the necklace was secured his hand curled around her hip and he pressed his lips to her neck. He smiled against her skin when her pulse jumped and she gasped. Rosaline unconsciously canted her head to grant him better access...Benvolio needed no further encouragement. His lips dragged along her throat slowly, teeth nipping gently when he reached just under her ear. His betrothed exhaled sharply, and tangled her fingers in his hair. A wicked grin crossed his face as he settled his lips over her earlobe. “Just thought I’d check in on my beloved,” he breathed, sealing the sentiment by gently sucking on the tender flesh. Rosaline turned in his arms, curling her hand around the back of his neck and drawing him down to her. Benvolio grinned, eager anticipation overwhelming him until he couldn’t breathe.

He was left in that anticipation, though, with Rosaline hovering close enough for their noses to brush. “Now that my beloved has assisted me with the last of my jewelry, I believe I am ready, my lord. If you would excuse me, I have a rather impatient Montague awaiting me.”

Benvolio growled playfully and allowed her to push him back. The seductive gleam in her eyes made it nearly impossible to resist dragging her against him once more, but the challenge that also faced him had the Montague stepping back in temporary surrender.

When he finally turned to walk out of the room, she laughed. “You will have your kiss once we are man and wife, dear Montague.”

“Then I implore you to hasten down the aisle, Capulet,” he called without looking back.

The ceremony and following celebration passed in a blur for the newly-wed couple. Their first kiss as man and wife was chaste, respectful, for the sake of propriety. They’d only had the opportunity to share a handful of dances, each stolen away to dance with other guests before they were given a chance to truly enjoy one another.

It wasn’t until Benvolio was given the approval of his uncle to steal away with Rosaline, the predatory smirk on the older Montague’s face unsurprising. He knew they would not be able to produce an heir fast enough for the man, and Benvolio was sure it would be a fresh source of discord between the men in the weeks to come. As tapped on the shoulder of the Capulet nobleman currently dancing with his wife (wife!), he found himself particularly grateful that Damiano had eventually agreed to allow them to settle in a manor away from the Montague villa.

“If I may, ‘tis time to steal away with my beautiful bride.” He bowed with a warm smile to the man, who stepped away with a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. Rosaline grinned at him, apparently as eager as he to leave the celebration behind them. “Would you bid Livia good evening for me, beloved? I shall fetch the carriage and wait for you there.”

Before long, they were on their way from the cathedral to their new home. Benvolio counted himself lucky that the trip was relatively short, because his fingers itched to feel the bare skin of his wife’s body. The fire in her eyes told him that Rosaline was just as restless as he, and he reached across the carriage to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. “If not for the sake of virtue and propriety,” he breathed, leaning into her space.

“What will you do, Montague?” She tipped her head back, eyes wide and curious, face a perfect mask of innocence. Her hands slid beneath the collar of his tunic, fingers featherlight against his clavicle. Benvolio shuddered, and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. He felt her giggle more than heard it, and he couldn’t help his responding rumble of frustration. The scrape of her nails along his shoulders set his nerves aflame, and he knew that if he didn’t regain control of the situation, she’d have him undone before they made it to the house.

Rosaline’s breath hitched when he bit down on her shoulder through the lace of her dress. He smirked at the soft little ‘oh’ that she couldn’t conceal, and he cradled her jaw tenderly. His tongue traced from the edge of her neckline to her jaw, and a gentle puff of air cooled her damp skin. The responding shiver was victory enough for Benvolio, and he moved up to her ear.

“The instant we are away from prying eyes and ears, I will rid you of this dress, lovely as it is. I will take my time, tasting every inch of you as I’ve been thirsting to do for weeks. I will request your assistance in disrobing myself...and then I will lay you down on our marriage bed. Finally, I will acquaint myself with my beloved wife’s exquisite body, learning what will unravel that fierce mind of yours...what will bring you to the brink, send you tumbling over...what will leave you blissfully spent in my arms.” Nails reflexively dug into his skin. He drew back, thumb tracing the swell of her flushed cheek. Her eyes were unfocused, dazed...Benvolio bit down on his bottom lip as he pictured such a look mirrored after they lay together.

Both were drawn back to reality when the carriage came to a stop. The door was opened by the driver, and Benvolio smirked in amusement when the man did not so much as look inside to offer assistance, as customary. He quickly saw himself out onto the street, and turned to offer a hand to his wife. Rosaline stepped onto the carriage footrail, and gave a heartfelt laugh when her husband swept her into his arms. “Thank you, good sir. If you would, in the morning, fetch miss Olivia Capulet from the Capulet Villa, and bring her here.” With little effort, he unhooked the coin purse from his belt and passed it to the driver, who nodded and bowed respectfully. “Good evening.”

A servant opened the door for them, bowing as Benvolio carried his bride over the threshold with a broad grin. He nodded to dismiss her with a grateful smile. “Why, Lord Montague, I cannot say that I have ever seen you look so blithe.”

When he looked down to her, he found that he could say the same for his beloved. “For the first time, Lady Montague, we are free of the control and demands of our families. You are the Lady of this house, and your family can no longer harm you or Livia.”

Rosaline’s surprise was visible, and she straightened herself so that he would set her on her feet in the foyer. She settled her hand on his cheek, adoration shining in her eyes. “You are the best of them, Benvolio. I am grateful that we were brought together...that I am able to rest easy knowing that my sister will be protected from the abuse of my aunt and uncle.”

Benvolio gently drew her hand from his cheek and pressed a kiss to her palm. “As will you, my love.” He stared into her eyes, his unspoken question answered when she laced their fingers together and led him towards their bedroom. The breath caught in his chest, and she graced him with a sultry smile. “Capulet…”

“Montague,” she corrected smugly. His jaw clenched, unprepared for how much it would affect him to hear her call herself by his name with conviction. She yelped when he yanked her hard against him, and laughed against his lips when he kissed her heartily.

“I am wholly yours, sweet Rosaline. You have captured me, heart and soul, and continue to enchant me at every turn.” This time when he kissed her, there was no laughter, just a soft whimper. She responded immediately, pushing her hands between his doublet and tunic, and easing the leather off his shoulders. Benvolio shook it free, and then buried his hands in her hair. His teeth caught her bottom lip, and he grinned when her hands tightened on his shoulders. Careful not to trip over the skirt of her dress, he backed her to their bedroom without breaking their embrace. The room, already prepared for them with soft lighting, was warm despite the open window at the other end. Their bedroom.

As reality set in, Rosaline found herself frozen before her husband. No longer was propriety going to stop them from going too far...there was no risk that someone would interrupt them. Not on their wedding night. Fear began to cloud her joy; she was fully prepared to give herself to her husband, mind, body, and soul...but she could not silence the voice in the back of her mind suddenly reminding her of his past. Benvolio Montague was an experienced man. She, a virgin, had never done more than kiss, and she’d only ever kissed one man before meeting her beloved.

He was quick to pick up on her sudden change. Instantly tensing, he took a step back to give her some space. “Rosaline?” Feeling ashamed and guilty, she dropped her gaze to the floor and cursed the tears that burned her eyes. Both of his warm, calloused hands came up to cradle her face and draw it back up so that he could see her. “My beloved, what is it? Are you unsure?” His voice was completely void of any frustration, blame, annoyance...of course he would be patient and understanding with her.

“Forgive me, my lord…’tis not uncertainty, I assure you. I…” She felt her face burn, and a tear slipped down her cheek. He caught it with the pad of his thumb, eyes never leaving hers. As she struggled to put her fears to words, understanding dawned on his face.

“No, it is my experience,” he murmured. He pressed a loving kiss to her forehead, and then returned his gaze to hers. “I need you to hear me, my love. No matter the women I have been with in the past, none of them have owned my heart. Any other experience already pales in comparison, because you are my wife. You and I will learn together, will grow together, will create life together. Intimacy, connection, love...without those feelings, it is no more than release. When it is a bond between man and wife, nothing will ever compare. Do you trust me?”

“Always.” Her lack of hesitation in responding brought a tender smile to her husband, and he pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Then please, my lady, if you would turn?” She obeyed silently, and Benvolio began the process of disrobing her. He tucked her hair over her shoulder, and took a moment to lavish attention to the back of her neck. She shivered when he pressed a kiss to her spine, and his fingers began working the laces. Each brush of his fingers and lips left her skin tingling. As he promised, Benvolio trailed his lips down as the laces fell away, until he reached her shift. Once the dress hung loose on her shoulders, he eased it off each arm until it pooled at her feet, and she stood before him in only a thin white shift. She turned back around to face him, and Benvolio was staring at her with an unreadable expression. “My love, you have already far surpassed anyone that might have come before.”

Instilled with confidence she’d never experienced before, Rosaline grinned and stepped towards him, out of her dress. Now so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, she boldly reached out and began working to remove his ceremonial belt. His breath stuttered in his chest, and his head dropped back for a moment. Rosaline glanced up through her lashes, and was encouraged by his clenched eyes and jaw. His sword hit the ground first, a dull thunk against the wood, and she took a moment to watch him fight to compose himself. Her fingers fisted in his tunic, tugging them free from his pants. Steel blue eyes, darkened with hunger, finally turned back down to her, and she gave him a sweet smile as her hands found their way under the tunic to explore his abdomen and chest. Her fingernails dragged down, catching on his nipples and making him growl. His arms pulled her against him, trapping her hands between them for a moment and giving him the opportunity to steal her breath with a possessive kiss. His tongue dragged across her bottom lip, and a newfound sense of urgency drove her to push against his chest and drag his shirt up. Benvolio didn’t hesitate to follow her lead. As soon as the tunic was out of her hands, she reached for his trousers, and her husband pressed his forehead to hers. His breathing was ragged, and his hands were shaking when they clutched at her hips. Once she had the ties undone, she paused, drawing her head back to look him in the eye.

“Are you certain, my lady?” His sincere concern warmed her chest, and she gave him a tender kiss. Her answer was to push his trousers over his hips, and step back to admire the view of her husband, unabashed and bare before her. “Is it...to your satisfaction Lady Montague?”

Was that...self doubt? “Absolutely, my lord. I suppose it is only fair…” His hands, still at her waist, dragged her shift up and over her head in one smooth movement. For an instant she had to fight the instinct to cover herself, but she reminded herself that this was a good, honest, loving man, and she wanted to hold nothing back from him. When she looked shyly up at his face, the only word she could conjure to describe the look in his eyes was awe. “B-Benvolio?”

“You, Rosaline, have no idea how truly breathtaking you are...and I look forward to reminding you of this everyday if I must...with words and with action.”

The direct continuation of this, *ADULT CONTENT* will be posted in 6b. If smut is not your thing, you will not miss anything major if you wait for part 7!

#rosvolio #rosaline x benvolio #rosaline capulet #benvolio montague #still star crossed #ssc fanfiction

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pravasiga · 6 years ago

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January 2, 2019

Lěng de bù hào chī (冷的不好吃): (Chinese): Cold (food) isn’t good for you.

This was the first year I did not count down to the start of a new year, huddled around the family TV as my brother and I (the only two who had not already gone to bed) watched Ryan Seacrest and a slate of celebrities dance around in clothes unbefitting of the New York’s bitter winter. The ball drop is not widely celebrated at my house – it’s just another passing mark of time. Traditionally, it means that it’s time to throw out the old calendar and scrounge around for the new one we somehow always manage to get for free from some Flushing marketplace or maybe somehow in the mail, advertising some random product. I am twenty-one years old and I’m still not sure where on earth my mother finds a new calendar each year. On another note, I am twenty-one years old and this is the first New Year’s Day that I did not count down – mostly because when hurtling through the air across time zones, you’re really not sure where to begin counting. I probably slept through it. The San Francisco-based crew wished us a Happy New Year as we exited the plane. My phone exploded with well-wishes when I finally connected with the airport’s (excellent) Wi-Fi. It was January 1st, 7:40pm in Taipei, Taiwan when I left the aircraft. It was about 6:40AM in New York. Most of my family and loved ones were just beginning to wake up into the New Year. I had just about lost the first whole day of the new year stuck in a strange man-made time limbo of time zones and travel – neither here nor there. I entered the New Year soaring through the sky, and my first steps on solid ground and into the new year were in a country that I had never been to.

For a trip that I had such a strong cultural connection to, it is honestly surprising how little I had planned ahead for it. I had reviewed itineraries, I had checked visa requirements, and kept up with what was required of me, and yet I did not spend nearly as much time thinking hard about what I was getting myself into. Frankly, I am challenging myself to write again during this trip because now that I am here, I am stunned by how much I know and don’t know. How else do you describe a strange sense of coming home to a place where you have never been to?

I have been lucky to have gone abroad two times during my time at Cornell – first to Lima, Peru and then to Mysore, India. For this trip, I am enormously grateful to Dustin Liu for organizing it, and I’ll go more into detail as the trip unfolds. I know how much travel inspires me not only in my academic pursuits, but truly as a strangely calming and yet disruptive force in my life. Clichés and all, I am a different person every time I disappear for a while across the borders. I shed some of the daily troubles for some new ones. Lack of consistent Wi-Fi and a new time-zone tends to silence the day-to-day influence of social life back home and the troubles waiting for me on campus (or in the inbox, it is hiring season after all). It is a luxurious silence to be deliberately untethered and I bask in it.

So, I am writing because I am 1) all at once excited to share my thoughts and adventures with my loved ones, but more importantly 2) I have a feeling that I will be desperate to not lose these thoughts. In the same style of my previous travel posts, I will be reflecting and writing on whatever I want, whenever I want. If I could write an entire post a year and half ago about getting acclimated to walking barefoot everywhere, I still reserve the right to go off on any tangent I want. I am challenging myself to reconnect with culture and language. I am currently sitting in a Starbucks a few blocks from home, meticulously and frantically searching the internet and conjuring every little bit of my knowledge of Mandarin to pepper my writing with the language of my ancestors and the ancestors before that. (I’m getting some curious looks from people, but that might be because I literally ran into the sliding glass door…twice). Every post will begin with a Chinese phrase or word that jogs my imagination just a little bit. I thank you for your time in reading along and exploring with me, and I hope that it jogs your imagination just a little bit too.

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Smell is the sense most directly linked to memory in the brain. Bypassing the hypothalamus unlike the other senses, the signal buries straight in the hippocampus, creating a powerful connection between scent and history. You can walk down the street and be hit with the faintest hint of house cleaner and remember a childhood home, or maybe just a recent hotel room stay. As I waited next to a tiny little street-side food cart late at night, watching them take orders of several other customers, I let the deep aromas of fried meat, fish, starch, and sweet spice take me far and deep back to a childhood that was ruled by incredible food. It is a smell of crisp, bubbling oil and juicy chicken. There is something comforting and familiar about the pungent smell and I can’t stop taking deep breaths of it. In that moment, I was standing in Taiwan, but my mind was wandering through the old food courts of Flushing Mall (RIP), my twelve-year-old self waiting anxiously in line for her salt and pepper chicken meal. It was my favorite order at the time, after all. I was a little too young at the time to feel quite comfortable standing in a thick crowd of other Flushing families and visitors, and just like now, my Mandarin Chinese just polished enough to order exactly what I wanted through rehearsing the phrases I heard my father say. I said hello, salt and pepper chicken please, thank you, goodbye. I hadn’t smelled a scent this strong in what felt like absolute years. On an empty stomach, it was impossible to resist leaning closer.

Dustin asked had asked me multiple times what I was craving and I truthfully answered that I was craving well, everything. A hungry stomach doesn’t discriminate much, but it was also the complete truth. Every other time I had travelled abroad, I had played it safe. No ceviche in Peru for fear of incompatibility with my stomach and a strong command to avoid the street food in India, a warning seconded by seasoned friends back home. Not here though. How could you say no to food that smelled and tasted just like home?

I clutched my oily paper bag of fish cakes, chicken, and corn cobs, all flash fried and coated liberally (but not too liberally because yours truly can’t handle spicy things), with a sweet, spicy red powder mixture, like it was the last thing I’d ever eat. And later that night, politeness and custom aside, that’s exactly how I ate. The first bite was irresistible. And the next one, and the one after that. Strips of fried chicken I tore off the bone, each coated with a pale golden yellow coat, fried to a soft crisp. It was salty and peppery, with just the right amount of greasy oil. In the creases near the bone were pieces of the fried dough mixture that felt like pure and wonderful gluttony just to eat. I don’t think I’ve ever picked a piece of chicken cleaner in my entire life. The fried fish cakes were light, airy, and chewy – covered in the same spice mixture as the chicken. It felt like a tougher French fry, but I’d choose it over French fry any day. The chopped corn cob pieces disappeared one by one – lightly fried sweet, fresh corn that was burned just the right amount at its edges. Buttery, satisfying, and with a slight hint of caramel. It was by all accounts a sloppy meal and it was glorious.

Like most fried food, you need to eat quickly. After all, lěng de bù hào chī. I’ve always found that heat in Chinese food comes straight from the fire more than anything else. It’s also a phrase that I have not yet quite found the equivalent for in English. There is a literal translation – when the food is cold, it won’t be good to eat. It has been uttered at so many of my family meals and gatherings. Maybe it’s just a my family thing, or a universal thing – I’m not sure. But in my home, it is the in thick of the frenzy that opens the meal and the reminder that my mother, my father, my grandparents, and uncles and aunts all will tell the younger ones repeatedly. Chopsticks and serving utensils battle in the airspace over the table as bowls and plates piled high with food are moved around the table in haphazard manner. As I sat down to write this, I toiled over what to title my piece – after all, all my old blog pieces all started with an uncommon word, usually of English origin, to you know, set the mood. (I also really, really like words). This was the first phrase that came to mind – lěng de bù hào chī. It felt almost a little silly, so I ignored it at first, but I kept coming back to it. It took me a little time to realize why – because it’s more than just some good advice when it comes to eating.

When my family intercepts me as I reach across the dinner table for something and tell me, xiān chī zhè ge (先吃这个) “eat this first”), they push another plate of food closer to me and say, lěng de bù hào chī. The tone is always a cross between nurturing and an urgent statement. There is usually no relenting of this phrase until the food in question is indeed eaten. I tossed the ubiquitous phrase around in my head for a little bit and finally, I realized that it was an act of love. They say it without thinking and yet the meaning and intent is always, always clear. Because we care, we want you to eat well.

Food is critically and vitally important to my family and my culture. As an American-Chinese growing up in a neighborhood where I am never quite the majority and the local scene is dotted with more fast-food take-out than authentic cuisine, food is the most solid and important link back to my ancestors. There is something indisputable about this connection and it isn’t something that was easily stolen from my family as we crossed oceans and borders. We joke that Asian cultures sometimes make it difficult to outwardly show affection – we don’t say I love you like I’ve seen in TV shows and movies about other American families. We do not kiss and hug when we leave for school in the morning. Our ways of showing affection are sometimes manifested in ways that are awkward and distant to Western gaze. And as weird as this reference sounds, in the wildly popular Subtle Asian Traits meme group, my favorite post is this – the re-post where the prompt is to say and convey “I love you” in three words, without using I, love, or you. The original poster simply wrote: “come and eat”. I believe truly that the post is wildly popular because it strikes at something many of us in the Asian diaspora understand – we are a people who show love through our food and through feeding our loved ones well.

When my parents tell me to eat my fish first instead of going straight for the vegetables, it’s not just a gastronomical piece of advice, it’s a statement I’ve learned is seeped in centuries of love – to enjoy this meal best, please eat this first. We want you to eat well. It runs deeper than the common courtesy of letting other people start eating before you do. It is a distant linguistic cousin to the act of leaving the last piece of dim sum for someone else even though you really, really, really want it too. I figure that it’s because lěng de bù hào chī is not a polite custom like the others – it’s truly in a league of its own. The purpose of the former two customs are more about appearing less like the rude one at the table. Lěng de bù hào chī is selfless. Lěng de bù hào chī is uttered all the time in my household. It is so common that it surprised me when the phrase came up as the one I knew I wanted to write about. I find myself repeating it to my little brother and my younger cousins all the time too now as I become older and the head of the kids’ table at holiday dinners. This is how we show care in the ways that matter.

With this phrase, we yield to our loved ones to go ahead first. We usually follow this up by heaping helpings of aforementioned food onto their plates despite protests. Predominantly from the elderly to the youngest at the table, but also just as frequent from child to parent. Do take that first piece of fish, or steak, or slice of the bā bǎo fàn (八寶飯) cake, straight from the steamer. Here, the tāng yuán (汤圆) won’t be fresh if you wait too long. Here, you can have the first piece of pork belly straight from the huǒ guō (火锅), it’s still hot. It won’t taste good anymore if you don’t eat it now. Sometimes its lěng de bù hào chī because they know you’ll get a stomach ache trying to eat sticky rice when it’s not hot enough Other times it’s because it literally will not be chewable when it’s not hot and no way on my dime are you wasting this piece of good steak. But absolutely all of the time, in setting the meal in front of me, my parents are giving me the chance to enjoy the experience first at its freshest and warmest. I have never seen my parents or grandparents go straight for the best food on the table without telling my brother, cousins, and I to eat it first. My parents have spent years cooking us dishes that had more expensive ingredients or were things that they loved too, but gave to us children first. I use fish as a prime example because my dad, as long as I remember, has always carved out the two smooth pieces of cheek meat in the fish (yes, we steam the entire fish, head to tail!) and put them on his children’s plates. It is a diplomatic process each time, routine like clockwork. My parents never ask for it, even though they know it’s a particularly good piece of the fish. It is a tiny piece, dipped in some of the soy and scallion sauce, but it is a wonderful bite of the fish – smooth, strong, and apparently like all Chinese lore, good for you.

Lěng de bù hào chī is also a pretty good way of describing how to approach my time here in Taiwan, the first Chinese-speaking country that I have been to in over a decade. Quite literally speaking, I would be a fool to wait on the good things here, lest I let them pass me by. I do a bit of a hard 180 here to address one of my biggest goals in Taiwan (and no, it is not just to inhale all the food in sight, though I am very willing to attempt this) – to re-establish my connection to my language and culture. My mandarin is like a strange fifth limb of my mine that is sometimes functional, often times awkward, and yet utterly impossible to detach. My first words were all in Mandarin. I was raised through a strong and consolidated effort of my parents and my grandparents. When I was younger, there was a time of genuine concern that I might not actually learn English since I babbled constantly and consistently in Mandarin. It seems like a strange past, because Mandarin now is both instinctual and foreign to me. My command of the language is through an ingrained mimicry as opposed to genuine understanding. My Chinglish at home is on point – we call out in a rapid mix of Chinese and English and depending on how mad my parents are, we also get disciplined in a mix of Chinese and English (though the angrier they get, the more Chinese gets thrown in until we reach a point where I am no longer able to comprehend what they’re telling me. I nod out of fear of asking for a translation).

I still stumble over my own tongue when I need to speak in Chinese to a non-relative or to a native speaker. When asked to speak, I often bravely attempt to mumble something and wait to feel an embarrassment that seems to be deeper than just social. I am immensely aware of my American-ness, the unshakeable accent that gives me away when my words fail to have the same smooth lilt, and a vocabulary that struggles beyond basic topics of school, home, and family. I stop mid-sentence only to realize I am translating English to Mandarin instead of truly speaking in my mother tongue. I spent a comparable number of years in Chinese school to French classes (about 7 years, each) and even though I was writing complicated arguments in French by the end of high school (thanks to incredible teachers!), I still consider myself more fluent in spoken Chinese. French is a mechanical skill I know in my brain; Chinese is child-like reflex I know in my heart. As broken as my Chinese is, it still rises unbidden through me, a call into a world that has still not quite decided on my American-ness or Asian-ness. I know the only way to get better is to push through and to grab every moment I can to practice, before they fade away. I chat as often as I can – and luckily most locals give me that chance and are patient when I lose my words and need to linguistically flail about. I am, after all, not the only wài guó rén (外国人) they will deal with today. For now, I am incredibly lucky to be in a country that is so English friendly. It affords me a little luxury to navigate a little bit, amongst the few blocks around our apartment. I remarked to Dustin today that it almost seemed to be the ultimate pass – to be in a country so obviously different than my own, and yet given more than enough hints along the way. I have stared at each block of Chinese text that I’ve passed intensely (mostly subway signs), willing myself to remember characters, even if I have to cheat and use the English translation or pīnyīn for context. I truly think that my greatest mistake during this trip was leaving my trusted Chinese-to-English dictionary at home – I really should have thought ahead and remembered it. (Fun fact, I was quite the speed demon during my Chinese school competitions amongst students who could utilize the dictionary the fastest. I absolutely assure my non-Chinese speaking friends that a Chinese dictionary is nowhere near the same as a phonetic one and this is my weird flex but okay, but your girl is good at this shit). When we left the food stall where I got my late night snack, I took a copy of the order sheet – it is all in Chinese except for the row at top that states the stall’s phone number and Line handle (I still have no idea what Line is). I am hunting down a Chinese-to-English dictionary as we speak and though it is rudimentary and slightly amusing to think about, I am looking forward to carefully eking out each pictogram and piecing together a translation of this food menu.

Food will be a pretty constant topic for me through this trip, because it is without a doubt the firmest link I have to the country I am in now. Where my tongue fails to speak, it’s pretty great at recognizing taste. I have made it through the entire first post without even telling you all about the rest of Taiwan or why this food to language connection truly matters to me – and don’t worry, I will (or if you are already sick of these long personal essays, I don’t blame you). But I also am grateful for a space to stay true to my train of thought and to allow for you all the experience what I’m experiencing, as I experience it. As I’m settling here, I can’t pretend that food is the first thing on my mind right now – because it truly is the most familiar things that hook you first. I know that I am here because I am on a service trip (and don’t get me started, I am so excited), but I recognize that this is in many ways, also an important trip in processing my own identity and experiences. I am navigating a complicated and new awareness of my Asian-American self. I don’t think I truly had that time to think about it, and I am looking forward to exploring. Taiwan and China are not equivalent, and yet there are deep roots across both that speak to me in a way that I have not felt in a very, very long time. Trips to the home nests of Chinatown and Flushing have given me distant echoes – but in many ways, I know I am starting to look for the source. I truthfully am absolutely lost in the hyphen of my own existence, but I am looking forward to sharing this journey with you. In the meantime, when you sit down to eat today with people you love, don’t be afraid to share a little with those around you. As I navigate a new country and new experiences, I hope that you also take some time to grab life by the horns and to go out on a limb. Life is a strange feast, and because I am sharing this meal and table with you all, it’s my joy to remind you to eat while it’s still hot, because lěng de bù hào chī.

Be well and take care.

Nǐ de péng yǒu (你的朋友) - Your Friend, He Yun Qi (何蕴琪)

PS: While we out here, might as well go the full hog and sign off with my full Chinese name (or as we move along, probably just my Chinese nickname). Also, I know social media is skeptical about oversharing and whatnot, but I truly find a lot of power and self-assurance in sharing openly about my experiences. I promise the next post will be more than just food (though I will also keep a running log, as per tradition, in my post-scripts).

PPS: (Soup)er honorable mention – I ate Michelin star Xiao Long Bao soup dumplings today at Din Tai Fung! I am still absolutely in love. XLB is also something that my father regularly scoops into our soup spoons before he takes his own because, as you guessed it, lěng de bù hào chī. Especially if they’re the ones with crab meat in it – you really don’t want that cold! Also, my dad always chides us if we eat ours without vinegar – because it really makes a huge difference.

PPPS: I literally also considered writing an entire post about Xiao Long Bao because that alone is a story of multitudes. It starts with Rachel Ray, includes a meme post that makes me boil in anger, and ends with hipsters in New York. I might go for it at some point if y’all really vibe with these hellishly long personal essays about my obsession with food.

PPPPS: My jet lag is doing alright, thanks for asking! I’m only about 4 hours off. The time zone difference between Taiwan and New York is 13 hours! Which also means that between lack of Wi-Fi at the house and the nearest Wi-fi being the aforementioned local Starbucks I will be slow to respond to everything. However, Taipei has free Wi-fi everywhere and I'm still really, really, REALLY jealous.

PPPPPS: I am genuinely happier here than I could ever truly articulate. Also, there’s a cat that’s always yowling outside my window at night. Please send name recommendations.

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