#though i know it's because she's an old lady... she's otherwise happy and silly but. girlie. why so tired...

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

Have a Gwenny goober. Using my arm as a pillow.

hOUGH... SO MANY THINGS MADE ME HAPPY TODAY BECAUSE OF YOU, MY FRIEND...

aND AH! LOOK AT HER... SNORKING MIMIMI SO PEACEFULLY, I LOVE HER SO MUCH...😭🥺

[a-libra-writes]

How the GoT Characters Propose To You

We’re BACK AT IT AGAIN FOLKS

In this imagine, you’ll be proposed to by: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Benjen Stark, Jory Cassel, Dolorous Edd, Yara Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn, Petyr Baelish, Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Margaery Tyrell, Brynden Tully, Edmure Tully, Brienne of Tarth, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Oberyn Martell, Beric Dondarrion

NED STARK

In spite of the fact your families arranged this marriage years ago, Ned has to be his usual honorable, traditional self and go along with the expected courting process. That includes a formal proposal, but… that’s not for the purpose of tradition. The way he beams and looks at you with such adoration, you can tell he just really wants to hear you say “yes” to the proposal he shyly talks through. The ring is on the more modest side, combining the direwolf and your house’s sigil. There’s a personal touch on the inside; either an inscription or an engraving that has a special meaning to the two of you. He likely has a matching ring, very unassuming, that he wears whenever possible.

ROBB STARK

He didn’t expect to fall so completely for you during this stuffy courting process. Robb can’t believe how lucky he is, and it’s obvious to everyone how enamored he is with you. He’s ready to jump straight to the wedding, tradition be damned, but oh well. What he does do is give you the ring quite early, and his own proposal, even if your marriage has been long decided. His proposal is straightforward, but there’s love and earnestness in his eyes as he takes your hands and presents the ring he secretly acquired. It’s beautifully crafted, with silver direwolves and gemstones that match your house’s sigil for their eyes.

SANSA STARK

Sansa had thought about this for a long time. Letting that romantic spirit come back, even after you’d been together for a while, was difficult. The whole concept of marriage had become repulsive to her, but together the two of you could make it something different. She gave you an unassuming ring you could always wear, with gemstones that reminded her of your eyes. She tried not to cry with happiness as she gave her heartfelt proposal. You’d say your vows in the weirwoods, where she always wanted to be married. The whole day would seem like a dream to her, like the innocent daydreams she had as a girl, before the world took everything.

JON SNOW

He had it planned out: What he would say, where he would say it, but his nerves and doubts bite at him again and again. You can tell he’s been thinking about something for months, it’s been weighing on him, but you hadn’t expected this. It all makes sense when you both are alone in a godswood and Jon takes your hand … and finally blurts it all out. He had a silver ring made; you don’t know how he managed it, but it’s pretty in its simplicity. There’s a direwolf running across the ring, its teeth bared, and another one running beside it. A pack of two.

BENJEN STARK

The asking and ceremony would be more of a ‘symbolic’ thing - being you both were in the Night’s Watch, and you were in disguise. It’s why when he first asked you, you thought it was some silly jap. “Of course, Ben,” You rolled your eyes. “I would love to be your wife.” Then he took your hand, removed the old woolen glove covering it and put on a small, unassuming iron ring that fit you perfectly. Benjen couldn’t stop grinning as he asked you again. It’s a sweet moment you share high up on the wall, in the middle of the darkness, where it seems like you both are totally alone in the world. Days afterward, you notice the engravings of the direwolf inside the ring.

JORY CASSEL

No matter how long you both were together at this point, Jory gets tongue-tied and stumbles over what he carefully rehearsed. He’s still so sure you’ll refuse him, given the small land and influence his family has. He thought for a long time about what sort of ring to get you, and admittedly, he was thinking about it early on in the relationship. It’s something quite pretty and elegant, and it references your house and personal taste. Honorable and traditional as he was, it didn’t feel right going to your family for “formal” permission. He wanted to know your feelings first, and that you truly wanted the arrangement.

EDDISON TOLLETT

You being his “old lady” was a dumb in-joke you and Edd had for some time. You were disguised in the Night’s Watch, of course, but the way you two (playfully) bickered made everyone call you an exhausting old couple. Even when you both were alone, Edd would use “wife”, though you were increasingly aware it wasn’t a joke anymore. Finally he really asks you, even if it’s pointless, even if it’s while you both are freezing in the middle of a frozen wasteland. And even then, he’s still surprised you say yes. One day he ties a piece of old twine around your finger, blushing the whole time, insisting you don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to.

YARA GREYJOY

If you were from the greenlands, from the get-go, Yara liked to refer to you as her salt wife. It was half teasing, half telling the other Ironborn to stay away. Whenever she’d say it, she’d keep such a protective hold on your waist, you were half-convinced she was going to carry you off to her ship. Eventually she made good on that promise. If you were Ironborn, Yara would be more willing to be forward. She’d tell you about some story she heard from her uncle about brides of the sea, women who stayed together and never married, though you knew she wasn’t one for fancies. Regardless, she’d have matching necklaces made for the both of you, leather and iron, like most of what she owns. She keeps it protected under her clothes.

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

Oh, she’s brought it up with you plenty of times - how you’ll be her Queen before gods and men, no matter what anyone thinks. The thing is, you both never did a grand ceremony. There were other matters to attend to, but Daenerys always made it clear to visitors who you were to her. She has plans for a wonderful ceremony once she takes her throne back, a celebration of your unbreakable union… Well, until then, you both can have your private vows. There’s dozens of beautiful things she’s given you (mostly from suitors who won’t bugger off), but your favorite is a necklace she had specially made. It’s a necklace of obsidian with dragons in flight, all connected together. The three largest dragons have a ruby, a diamond and an emerald for their eyes - a reference to her children, who are also fond of you. You two also wear matching obsidian bands with small rubies, made from the same stone as the necklace.

JORAH MORMONT

First, you knew this was happening. Jorah wears his heart on his sleeve and that’s even more evident when he’s worried about something. You noticed he was being both especially loving and anxious. You considered saying something, but he was clearly waiting for a perfect moment. Seriously, he’d look ready to say something, then back off at the last second at least a dozen times. Finally Jorah asked you, with the most loving smile on his face, and he was so choked up when you accepted - as if he really thought you’d refuse. You’ve told him before that you don’t need anything fancy, but he still gets you a lovely and elegant ring with silver-black engravings of small bears and another animal you’re fond of. He’s thrilled if you got him a matching ring or necklace; again, Jorah didn’t imagine you’d want such a thing. He’d wear it constantly and it’d become something he’d fiddle with when he was nervous.

MISSANDEI

Missandei would wait for you to pop the question because, in truth, she never imagined you’d want to. She understood that was a tradition in your home country, but you were both women, and she was… well, she just didn’t expect it. But Missandei’s eyes light up with surprise and adoration at your earnest question, and she says yes without even thinking. She isn’t one for anything fancy, but she’d love you both to have a matching set of bracelets, necklaces or rings - something elegant but not flashy, perhaps with stones or engravings that mean something personal to the both of you. She’d always wear it, even if she had to hide it under her clothes for some reason or another. She’s terribly flustered when someone asks her who it’s from and what it means.

GREY WORM

Oh, no no no. He’d grown a lot beside you, and as Daenerys’ commander, but there were still areas where Grey Worm felt like he wasn’t enough. It would take a lot of prodding and reassurance from Missandei before he’d finally start planning. You’d wonder what he was up to, and he’d just shyly say it was a surprise and you’d learn eventually. His proposal is sweet and faltering; he tried to stay serious, but he just couldn’t when you looked at him with those kind eyes. Grey Worm decided to make the jewelry himself - it would be an intricate leather bracelet with gemstones inlaid. He hunted the animal and tanned the leather himself, and spent many evenings hurting his fingers to put it together. He has a matching one, though it’s far simpler.

TYWIN LANNISTER

First off, this was a marriage arranged well in advance, so you didn’t expect any extended courting or proposals. This was Tywin, after all. Still he managed to surprise you a fortnight before the wedding with an absurdly jeweled ringbox. The ring itself was Lannister gold, and you anticipated lions and rubies… but it was your house’s sigil, with your birthstone inlaid, and small lions along the band. It’s far more than you anticipated from such a man. And when Tywin presented it to you, you sensed his expectation, and the heat in his eyes... He would never admit to wanting your approval, but that look was saying otherwise. Some years later, you have more jewelry than you could dream of, but you still wear that original ring most often. You’ll catch him glancing at it when you put it on, or twist it around your finger, then he’ll glance aside like he wasn’t watching.

TYRION LANNISTER

Naturally, he’s been thinking of this and planning it for weeks, maybe months, depending on how in love he is. Even if it’s a marriage of love, Tyrion will still have late-night nagging thoughts that you’ll back out, or you’re doing it out of duty. When he takes your hand and gives you the sweetest proposal you’ve ever heard, he still isn’t sure… until you kiss him and tell him what a silly man he’s being. Of course you’d accept. The ring has beautiful craftsmanship, with delicate flowers, lions and gemstones matching your house. It’s rosegold and silver rather than Lannister gold, and the inscription inside is something of an in-joke between you two, likely a quote from a book.

JAIME LANNISTER

You were concerned when he first approached you. It’s rare Jaime is this solemn with you, and he’d been acting strange the past week. Then he started to speak, and you realized he was nervous. His cheeks were starting to get red, and he was having trouble looking right at you. His nervousness came from the fact that Jaime wasn’t entirely sure you’d say yes, no matter how long you’d been together, no matter how confident he was that whole time. All the doubts would begin to creep, and before you could even answer, he considered backing out. But you said yes, and the smile that grew on his face was so wonderful to see. Jaime doesn’t want anything fancy or ceremonial, tradition and his family name be damned. The ring is gold, naturally, but it’s simple and charming. There’s small, pretty gemstones inlaid beside lion engravings.

SANDOR CLEGANE

At this point, you two have been married in all but name for years. He has his own thoughts on marriage, and you have your’s, and there was never a rush. People in the village already thought you already took vows, so honestly, you might have kids before Sandor starts considering something a little official. It would be something simple, but heartfelt. He’d have a fancy leather bracelet woven for you, or a simple silver ring, if you’d prefer that. He wouldn’t want much for himself, and would be flustered if you made something - but he’d absolutely wear it. Instead of taking the three black dogs from the Clegane sigil, you both would think of something new.

BRONN

He’s made all sorts of stupid jokes about marriage, especially now that he’s a proper lord. You’ve never taken any of it seriously, especially when these sentimental rambles come from when he’s drunk and wanting under your dress. Other times are when you’re out and about and pass a sept - “We oughta made it official, then go straight to the wedding night” - really, you never expected him to be serious about it. One evening he tossed something shiny at you, and you caught it. It was a beautiful ring with a huge diamond … and your first thought is if he stole it. He didn’t look at you, only mumbled something about maybe talking to your family. Maybe considering it for real. Bronn’s terrible with emotions, especially speaking them out loud. His gestures speak louder, and the whole time he’s talking he’s trying not to look at you.

PETYR BAELISH

Naturally he planned out the whole proposal - the right location, what he would say, and a beautiful ring that meant something important to you. It wasn’t big and conspicuous, rather it was something absolutely tailored for you, with a mockingbird etched inside. Petyr starts strong as he takes your hand, but begins to falter in his words when you look at him with such adoration. That undivided attention and love just gets him flustered, though he knew you’d accept. This was all part of his plan, but even knowing it would happen didn’t make him any less pleased.

STANNIS BARATHEON

Your houses had been in discussion about the betrothal for a while, but being the man he was, Stannis still wanted to do the usual courting and formal proposal. His words were blunt, the tips of his ears were turning red and he kept darting his eyes away, but he said it. He remembers the ring when you accept, and you assumed he had it ordered without much thought… Though when you look at it, you notice it’s not just pretty woven gold and black diamonds. In the center of the diamonds is your birthstone, and you wonder if he added that touch - your parents certainly wouldn’t have. Even after you’ve been married for years and have plenty of jewelry to pick from, Stannis gets a little flushed that you wear the first ring he gave you so often.

DAVOS SEAWORTH

Your dear Davos made your ring, a pretty and modest thing he created with the help of a blacksmith friend (you were wondering where those little burns on his fingers came from). You both had been together for a while now, talking about marriage here and there but never actually doing it. When he takes your hand, he’s bashful, though he gets through his words. They’re sweet and honest, like you expected. He knew you’d say yes, but he wanted to say it, and to give you the ring. Even if you don’t want a ceremony, he wanted to give you this. It’s a pretty silver and iron ring with pretty engraved flowers, your favorite, and a loving inscription on the inside.

MARGAERY TYRELL

First off, she’d been asking you strange questions for weeks. You could tell she wanted to get you a gift, and she wanted it to be just right. Then you realized she must have some sort of elaborate date planned… Well, you didn’t expect the wonderful evening to end in a proposal. Even if it wasn’t possible for you by the laws of Westeros, Margaery didn’t care. She had a beautiful ring made for you, and she had her “vows” ready. As far as she’s concerned, your hearts belong together, and the gods will understand. She only cries a little, but she’s mostly beaming as you say yes and allow her to put it on your finger.

The gold ring is made wonderfully, with sculpted roses and a large emerald in the center, with her birthstone around it. Margaery wanted a matching one, but that might be suspicious. So, her ring is your favorite flower sculpted with your birthstone in the center.

BRYNDEN TULLY

All his life Brynden resisted the brides his brother threw at him, absolutely sure he was going to die a warrior and not some lazy lord… Well, you certainly changed that perspective, though he likes to say he’s still too old and you ought to spend your life with someone else. Because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, and you deserve it - and with the upcoming war - he gets the ring. Brynden is actually flustered the whole time, giving you a curt and honest proposal. He wants to be with you until the rest of his days - even if they’re numbered - if you’ll have him. No fancy ceremony, ideally, it’s just the two of you. The ring itself is unusual and also not traditional. It’s cool silver with black etchings, and the sigils are your house’s sigil or a favorite flower. It’s not very Tully, except for a small chain of trout engraved on the inside.

EDMURE TULLY

He’s completely confident in this proposal. And why not? You both adore each other, the marriage has been planned for well over a year now, he has just the right place to ask you… Though he’s so excited, he ends up stumbling over some words while he asks you. The official arrangement had already been announced, but he still wanted to do something private and romantic. It was difficult for Edmure to keep the ring a secret. He oversaw every step of it being made, and when he notices you looking at it, it makes him very happy. It’s an elegant silver ring inlaid with diamonds, rubies and sapphires; the latter being in a wavy formation like the Tully banner. You think it’s a bit extravagant, but he says otherwise.

BRIENNE OF TARTH

She’s been thinking about it over and over… you can tell she’s been agonizing about something for months. Finally she shyly presents you with a pretty and simple gold bracelet she figured you could always wear; stumbles over her words to explain it, then you understand her meaning. Yall find an abandoned sept and do cute lil vows and shes crying lol. You rlly want her to wear something similar and she’s just blushing the whole time but she agrees; she takes extremely good care of the necklace/bracelet and wears it under her armor.

RAMSAY BOLTON

Your parents and Roose made the arrangement, so you and Ramsay had little say in the matter. Still, he loves to play his roles, so he wanted to play the part of the attentive, doting lord, especially in front of your family. Though you’re surprised by the unusual ring he gives you; it’s two smooth rings interlocking with each other. The proposal is a little intense and unsettling, but you notice something when he puts it on your finger. He has small burns on his fingers, like had smithed it himself… And you wonder how he knew your ring size… Later on, when you both are married and living in the Dreadfort, sometimes he’ll take your hand and run his thumb over the cold ring.

ROOSE BOLTON

You both were officially engaged for some time, so he didn’t have to do any sort of proposal. When you both were at a private, quiet place in the gardens, and he took your hand. You weren’t expecting it at all. It was simple enough. He promised to look after you, to ensure your protection and health. It almost seemed… genuine, though those eyes were cold as ever. The ring was another surprise. You realized it was an heirloom, but it still looked impeccable. It was iron that was twisted into an elegant shape, with rubies and morganite. The largest ruby was in the center, shaped like a tear-drop… or maybe that was a blood-drop? You notice afterward he’ll glance at your hand each time you meet, as if concerned you wouldn’t wear it.

OBERYN MARTELL

You both had been paramours for years now, and you didn’t need the ring to be happy or official… So it surprised you when after a wonderful evening of dancing and drinking, and pressing against each other in the gardens, he asked you the question. It was romantic, like you’d expect, but also so earnest. Oberyn always wears his feelings on his sleeves, but this didn’t seem like a spur-of-the-moment passionate proposal. His words seemed like he’d worked on them for a long time. Oberyn is understanding if you want to stay paramours and not an official Lady Martell, as that title comes with trappings and expectations. He just had to ask you and hear your acceptance. The ring he gives you is gold, with vibrant topaz and rubies. The inside is engraved with the spear of Martell. You later learn from his brother that it’s a beloved family heirloom.

BERIC DONDARRION

The two of you don’t have much, but you’ve been in love for a long time and he very much wants a “proper” ceremony to express that. He shyly proposed to you in the moonlight after you both made love, and the almost desperation in his voice surprised you. He gave you a smooth, iron ring with a faint design of interwoven flames. The “ceremony” is a drunk Thoros and equally drunk septon his men found, for a double ceremony! It’s extra luck! Or something like that. Beric insists that makes it even more official, and he’ll marry you under a Godswood too, if you come across one. He’s full of smiles and wants to bridal carry you every chance he gets.

[ikeromantic]

Middle Ground

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2200 words. This scene occurs well after the events of the romantic epilogue. Fluff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Bonding

“So . . . separate beds?” Mitsuhide’s wry smile was only a little bitter.

“Yes. I know it’s silly. I’d . . . I’d rather be in there with you.” The chatelaine, soon to be Lady Akechi, looked down, her expression a mixture of shame and defiance.

“It’s fine. I will have you all to myself soon enough. What is a night or two apart?”

She looked up without raising her head, trying to gauge his emotions.

Mitsuhide wasn’t having any of that. He took her chin between his finger and thumb and gently lifted until her gaze met his. “It is fine.” Then he leaned forward to brush a kiss across her cheek. With his lips almost close enough to touch her skin, he added. “Are you so eager to be in my arms again? Do you want to . . . test out the guest room? Or your childhood bed?”

He had the intended effect. She shivered and licked her lips. “You are so bad!”

“You are the one protesting our brief separation.” Mitsuhide pressed another kiss to her cheek and leaned back.

She crossed her arms. “You’re right. It’s just a few nights. But when we get back to the city -” a wicked smile turned her lips up at the corners, promising all sorts of fun.

“So forward, my little mouse. So eager. You make me wish we were home already.”

“That’s the idea.” She turned and threw him a saucy look. “Something to dream about.”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Good night, little one.” Something to dream about indeed. He watched her hips as she walked down the hall, until she turned into her room and shut the door. She really had no idea what impact she had on him. He wondered if it was his practiced art of hiding his true emotion, or simply that she couldn’t see how beautiful she was. How desirable.

He went into the room and shut the door. It was so strange. The electronic hum of household devices. The cold fluorescent light from the street lamps in his window. Distant traffic sounds blending with barking dogs and strains of music. Mitsuhide felt suddenly very alone and very out of place.

Despite his refusal, the thought of spending one night, much less three, without his little one, felt impossible. A burden too heavy for him to bear. He needed to feel her in his arms, to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart. Her warmth grounded him in this strange place.

Mitsuhide gave a dry, soundless laugh. Who was the little mouse now?

Slowly, meditatively, he dressed for bed and lay down. He would embrace this world, different as it was from his own. He had to, because it was the one that gave birth to his beloved. And so, listening to the heartbeat of this small town, the viscous thrum of modern life, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Miyake and Sasuke arrived the following day at lunch. They met up at a local restaurant. Youko was friends with the owner and able to borrow a few tables in the back for privacy.

Minoru, the chatelaine’s often grumpy father, seemed to be on his best behavior. Not smiling, but distantly polite to the two newcomers. He thawed a little when his daughter threw her arms around each of the men in greeting.

No one said much as they ate. Youko and Minoru sat beside their daughter on one side of the table, glancing up at her strange friends. Sasuke, Mitsuhide and Miyake sat across from them, looking nervous.

It was Sasuke who finally broke the silence. He cleared his throat. “I understand your daughter told you about our time in the Sengoku. Understandably, you want proof. You have questions. We are here to give you what evidence we can.”

Minoru snorted. “What do you get out of this charade?” He gestured to Mitsuhide. “Is he paying you?”

Miyake looked as if he wanted to speak up, but Sasuke beat him to it. “No. I am here because your daughter is my friend.” He reached into his bag. “I know it isn’t much, but I brought my ninja kit as proof. These - these are smoke pellets. And that is a kunai. This is a sleeping poison, and this -” he went through the items, explaining what they were and how he made them. Detailed descriptions of the tools and materials he had available.

When Sasuke finished, Minoru looked thoughtful.

Youko smiled across as Sasuke. “You seem a very resourceful young man. And you are also the one that discovered these wormholes?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sasuke dipped his head, embarrassed by the compliment.

“It could just be you have a - a fascination with this stuff. Read a lot. Saw some movies,” Minoru said. His gruff voice held more than a hint of doubt. Even he didn’t buy his own explanation.

Sasuke nodded. “I could have. But even that would not yield the encyclopedic knowledge I’ve developed. I would go into greater detail, but I imagine you don’t have the underlying historical education to make use of most of the information I could provide. Unless . . . Are you a history buff?” His voice sounded different at the end, as if this question was important. Light glinted off his glasses, hiding his eyes. The air around him was charged, almost crackling with a sudden and unexpected energy.

“No. I can’t say I am,” Minoru replied.

“Hm, too bad.” The strange tension in the ninja disappeared as suddenly as it came.

Mitsuhide nudged Miyake. The warrior muttered something under his breath and then rolled his shoulders. “Alright, old man. I don’t blame you for doubting us. I’d think I was crazy too, or lying. But what Lady Akechi told you is true. She’s been living with my lord for the last few months. And it’s a good thing too. He smiles a lot more now. Eats too, and sleeps almost like a human.”

“Miyake,” Mitsuhide growled. “That’s not the kind of evidence they need to hear.”

“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And if you don’t mind me saying, well, even if you do, your daughter makes for one hell of a princess. She makes the servants happy to do a good job because she notices the little things. And the guards . . . they’d all die for her, and not just because Lord Akechi demands it. She’s kind and good to all of us. I don’t get to spend time at the castle, but I hear how she remembers birthdays and congratulates newlyweds and -”

Youko laughed, a sound Mitsuhide recognized. Much like his own little one, but matured. More elegance with just the same amount of joy. “It sounds like you have a following,” she smiled at her daughter.

The chatelaine blushed. “I really don’t. He’s exaggerating, mom. Really.”

“He is not,” Mitsuhide chided. “Though I don’t think that’s the kind of proof her father -”

Minoru interrupted, his gruff voice quieting the table. “It’s clear you’ve gotten to know her. My little girl.” He gave her a brief smile. “I am still . . . it’s a lot to take in. This wild story. But she stands by it and there is clearly - something true in it.”

His daughter hugged him. “I knew you’d come around, papa.”

He dislodged himself from her unexpected embrace. “I didn’t say I’m buying the whole story. Just,” he waved his hand, “some of it rings true.”

The tension at their table eased, and conversation began to flow more naturally. Youko and Minoru had a lot of questions, and were finally ready to hear the answers.

***

Kyubei followed Ranmaru through the thick forest undergrowth, barely able to make out the dirt path he led them down. This was supposed to lead to a safe house, one that Kennyo agreed to meet him in. He wished the demon-abbot had a taste for teahouses instead of abandoned forest shacks, but it could be worse.

He could be with Hideyoshi, hunting Motonari across the ports. Kyubei wasn’t afraid of pirates, but being on a boat . . . the constant roll of the ocean waves made him sick as a dog. No matter how many trips he made, he never gained any kind of tolerance for the motion. So this, the dirt and the bugs and the thick air under the trees, was a better deal all around.

“This is it.” Ranmaru stopped just before the path opened on a small clearing. There was a half-rotted shack ahead, once a shrine to some local deity, now fallen into disrepair.

Kyubei was surprised to see he wasn't’ the only one here to speak to the monk. Another familiar figure sat on the wooden steps outside the shrine. “Shingen?”

Takeda grinned up at him, pushing a lock of sweaty hair out of his face. “If it isn’t Mitsuhide’s maid!” He laughed. “Kidding, kidding! I just expected to see the kitsune out here himself.”

“He is otherwise engaged.”

“Is he?” Shingen’s smile was dangerous now. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our missing ninja, would it?”

“If it does, I’ll send him your head,” Yukimura spoke up from somewhere to Kyubei’s left.

Ranmaru put his hands up, laughing as if this were all so silly. “It’s too early for threats. Come on! Let’s make some tea and relax. The abbot will be here shortly.”

Kyubei turned his head a fraction, just enough to see Yukimura lower his spear. “Tea would be good.” He ignored the younger warrior’s scowl as he followed Ranmaru to the shrine.

He didn’t sit, but stood near Takeda, resting his back against a tree.

Shingen, for his part, pretended to be fully relaxed. It wasn’t quite effective though. His brow held a waxy sheen, his eyes looked sunken and fevered. Worse, his breathing was labored. A rasp, harsh as a winter cough.

Kyubei watched him carefully. This was a bad situation. A dying man had fewer qualms than one that had to live with his decisions. He hadn’t realized Takeda was so bad off though, despite the reports he’d received. The Tiger of the Kai was legend. Not a man to be taken down by sickness. And yet.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yukimura snapped, coming to stand beside his lord.

Shingen chuckled. “So protective, Yuki.” His laugh turned into a thick, unproductive cough. When he finally got control of himself, he directed his attention to Kyubei. “So. Where did your lord and my ninja go off to? And don’t tell me you don’t know. There’s too much tying their disappearance together. I’d rather not have to kill you today for lying to me.”

Another situation he wished he had his lord’s guidance. What information was safe to pass along, and what plans would the ripples of this conversation affect? Kyubei swallowed. “I suspect they have gone to visit the chatelaine’s home. 500 years in the future.”

Shingen nodded as if this was the answer he expected. “Sasuke asked me if I’d like to visit his hometown. He said - he said they could cure me.”

“And then he left without you.” Yukimura punched the shrine wall, causing the whole building to tremble.

Ranmaru poked his head out. “Hey! Careful or you’ll bring the whole thing down on my head!”

“Sorry,” Yukimura growled.

“If it is any consolation, I don’t believe Lord Akechi or Sarutobi left when they did intentionally. The information my lord left indicates the trip was meant to take place later. He was still . . . putting things in place for his extended absence.”

“That’s bull,” Yukimura grumbled, but he relaxed his grip on the spear.

They had no more time to talk it over as Kennyo’s shadow fell across the clearing. He came out of the trees like a spirit, the rings on his staff clinking. “It appears you found me. Again.”

Shingen grinned. “Well, old friend, I did have to hunt through every abandoned shrine in the province to get to this one.”

Kennyo snorted in disbelief.

“Ranmaru brought me,” Kyubei bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“I have little time or patience for guests. Tell me what you want.” Kennyo crossed his arms.

“Your help with the false emperor.” Kyubei didn’t look up from his bow. “We both know Ashikaga is dead. The scribe we set up in his place, or the men around him, have gone astray.”

“I could care less. Let the exiled shogun harass the devil-king. Nobunaga and his pawns can go to hell.” Kennyo’s eyes were dark and full of anger. It radiated from him like heat from a fire.

Shingen shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I hate him too. But it’s not just him getting hit. These idiot daimyos in his retinue are conscripting farmers. Villagers. Innocent folk that should be left out of a power grab.”

The demon abbot’s eyes fell on his old friend. “And you believe this is a worse fate than what the Oda have in store for them?”

“I do.” Shingen’s gaze didn’t waver.

Kennyo’s shoulders shook and it took Kyubei a moment to realize the abbot was laughing. He shook his head. “You always were a fool, Shingen. But fine. I will tell you what I know. I don’t think you can stop what has been set in motion.”

Next: Double Dating

[pandoras-princess]

Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader)

*gif not mine//credit to owner

A/N: Hello my lovelies! 🌸 Welcome to my first ever Peaky Blinders fic, I wrote it ages ago and have just edited it slightly so my apologies if the quality isn’t greaaat but the other parts will be better I promise! 😅 This is an AU fanfic where John never married Martha or had kids before he married Esme and there is no Grace for Tommy andddd the timeline is absolutely wack, I know it’s a lot so if you’re in the market for a traditional by the book Peaky Blinders fic this one is not for you I’m afraid 🤗 also if you’re finding it a bit slow I advise you to hang in there until after the time skip because that’s the better half of this part in my opinion, nevertheless I seriously enjoyed writing this so Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is forever welcome 😌

Summary:  Being the bestfriend of Jonathan Shelby meant that you’d grown up attached at the hip. And considering you were hopelessly in love with him, life was eventful to say the least. With John marrying Esme you decide it’s high time you got over him. And as they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else...

Pairing: (OOC) Thomas Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, smoking and drinking, mentions of addiction, mentions of sex but no smut I’m afraid

PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

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Being John Shelby's best friend was definitely not an easy job.

You and John were the exact same age, born on the same day of the same month of the same year, precisely one hour and eleven minutes apart, and since your family only lived one house away from the Shelby's it was a given that you and John would grow up to be best friends.

You were as good as family to them, so when your father was killed in the war and your mother unable to cope turned to the drink and drugs, you were left officially orphaned at age 10 and Polly arranged for you to live with them, raising you as her own.

Growing up with the Shelby's came with it's challenges. They were all fiercely protective of you but no one more so than John. When you were kids he'd beat up anyone that dare made you cry, or sad or angry or anything other than happy really, and as you grew older and began to date he'd scare away anyone deemed not up to scratch, which seemed to be pretty much all of them, threatening violence known around Small Heath as common behaviour for the Peaky Blinders. This meant that you never really had a boyfriend, or many boys interested in you at all for that matter, and any who were rarely had the balls to act on it for fear of the Peaky Blinders wrath. However this didn't bother you much as there was only ever one boy you truly wanted interested in you, the one boy who never would be interested in you.

Of course being a teenage girl you'd had your silly crushes, Tommy being one of them. But they all paled in comparison to what you felt for John.

Being best friends meant that the two of you spent practically all of your time together, did everything together, went through and dealt with everything together. He had always been your shoulder to cry on, your ear to bend, your hugs and smiles and laughs, your safe place. It was inevitable that you'd fall for him. And fall for him you did, painfully obvious to everyone except John himself.

Shortly after your 16th birthday, you were reading a book by the fire, a woven blanket strewn across your legs and a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands when John bursts into the house loud, drunk and jolly. He often snuck out to join his brothers in their shenanigans - whether it be business or pleasure - and you were all too happy to listen to his stories when he came home.

You watched John intently as he regaled to you his latest night out. You watched the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly as he spoke, a smug smile tracing his lips every so often. His eyes glistened from the whiskey and his lips were wet. A cigarette clasped lazily between his fingers, his eyes closed for a split second whenever he took a drag. Deep in admiration of the boy sitting in front of you, you didn't quite notice the change of events in the story.

"-and then she walked right up to me and kissed me!"

It was at that point that your attention snapped back, ears pricking up and heart racing as you go over what he'd just said. But too excited to wait, John didn't give you the chance to work out if you had misheard him.

"Well before I know it she's got me in the back alley dress hiked up going at me like a feral she was. Can ya believe it after all this time I'm finally a man aha!" John exclaims, a goofy, ear-splitting grin plastered on his face.

He spares any explicit details, knowing it was no way to talk with a lady no matter how close they are to you or how drunk you may happen to be. Nevertheless, upon hearing those final words coupled with the look of pure elation on his face, your heart shatters into millions of ice cold shards right before your eyes. The pain that was rapidly building in your chest and the image of John with some tart, skirt bunched around her waist fucking like dogs in the alley was too much for you to bear. A wave of nausea washes over you and you stand abruptly, dashing to the loo before the contents of your stomach emptied onto the carpet.

A few minutes later you hear faint knocks on the door.

“Ye alright in there love?” John asks, concern lacing his words.

“All good” you reply quickly, willing your voice to steady itself.

Wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead you collapse into a heap against the wall, and a sigh escapes your lips as you wrack your brain for the exact moment you had lost him. While John had never shown any signs of liking you, you were always able to draw hope from the relationship you two had, no matter how blind it may have been. Now though, he had dashed that hope, blind or otherwise, as he had given himself to someone else. He had openly chosen not to be with you.

Not to be yours.

Fobbing John off with some excuse about a dodgy dinner you quickly retreat to bed, going without giving him a hug, unable to bring yourself to touch him. And from that day onwards you lived with the knowledge that your love was unrequited. You lived with loving him, and him not loving you.

For the most part it was rather easy. John wasn't the kind for serious relationships - preferring causal sex to the committed kind - so you never really had to deal with any girlfriends or the lark, just the occasional tart interested in him on the rare nights out you tagged along. Even then, you soon learned not to go on any nights out without Ava or Polly present and so the issue of John and his women quickly became dormant. That was, however, until John agreed to marry Esme Lee.

Tommy came to you before asking John, asking for your help in convincing him. He knew John would come to you with it asking for advice before deciding. Tommy explained his plan, marry John off to the Lee girl forcing them to squash the war and join forces to overthrow Billy Kimber. It was simple enough and since you'd already accepted there was never to be a you and John, you agreed.

The time came and sure enough John came to you, confused and somewhat annoyed at Tommy's rough handed approach, and sure enough you stayed true to your word, telling him it was nothing new, people had arranged marriages all the time.

So on he went to marry her, your true feelings unknown to the man.

[2 years later]

"You shouldn't be working here you know. John certainly wouldn't like it" Tommy said, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you carefully wipe down the bar surface. He was referring to your new job as barmaid in the Garrison and having just finished your first shift you were cleaning up. Last orders had been and gone and every punter had now left the pub, drunk and merry on their ways.

After John married Esme you spent the next two years much to yourself. You embraced the spinster lifestyle and faded away into the passing days. However it was the turn of a new year and to everyone's joy you'd come to your senses, deciding it was high time you stopped wasting your life moping after John. He didn't love you - that much was clear - but somebody out there must and so it was time for you to move on, you thought. Reinvent yourself. This 'new you' started with marching into Tommy's office and demanding the new barmaid job. Surprisingly he offered no resistance, merely a quizzical look at your sudden determination before giving you the job. So here you were, your first shift done and nobody left in the place but you and your new boss.

"Well it might surprise you to know, Mr Shelby, but I don't abide my decisions by what John would or would not like me doing" you reply. Finishing up you leave the cloth on the bar and make your way over to the table, taking the chair adjacent to his.

"Is that so?" He asks, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he offers you a cigarette. You accept, bending down slightly to the offered flame and without breaking eye contact, you light the cigarette and take a drag, exhaling as you sit back up.

"Yes, Thomas, that is so" you reply, the use of his name making clear your exasperation with the questioning.

"Very well then, a toast-" he picks up the bottle of whiskey and pours some into each glass, placing one in front of you and taking one himself "-to your new job, and to your new found freedom" he says, locking eyes with you on his last words and clinking your glass before you both down it. If growing up with the Shelby's had taught you one thing it was how to hold your liquor.

Soon you and Tommy were halfway through the bottle and quite drunk, too caught up in the fun to notice. It was now something past 3 in the morning; you and Tommy had been talking, drinking and laughing for nigh on 3 hours now, going through old stories of your childhoods, stories from before you were born and from afterwards, stories of your parents and stories of his.

"So tell me, what is the meaning behind this sudden change in you then?" Tommy inquired, only too happy to see your old self back again.

Before you knew it the whiskey had gotten the better of you and you found yourself telling him the reason. You told him about John, about your love for him, about that night and about how you'd come to terms with it and decided to move on.

"Besides, it's not like he was the first boy I ever liked, so I'm quite sure he won't be the last" you state matter of factly, unaware of the storm you had just brewed.

See, unbeknown to you, Tommy was fully aware of everything you had just poured out to him. He knew about your love for John. He knew the deepest parts of your heart, your mind, your soul. Every crush and fling you'd ever experienced Tommy knew all about it, thanks to a little book you liked to keep hidden under your mattress. You had been detailing all matters of yourself in that little black journal for as long as you could write. Polly happily replacing it when you found your current one full, it was much easier than finding a shoulder to cry on every time you needed one. When Tommy came across it he had no idea what it was, merely out of curiosity did he open it and start reading.

"Oh, who was?" Tommy asked, lighting another cigarette. Following suit you decide to take a minute to weigh up your options, drinking in the smoke as you did.

"You” your voice remains deceptively steady, not wanting the man watching you so closely, so attentively, to become aware of the raging swarm of butterflies occupying your stomach.

"Is that so?" Tommy pulls on his own cigarette, the smoke rising from his lips as his eyes lock onto yours. "So what changed then?" His eyebrow arches perfectly, a smirk gracing his lips.

"You're 4 years older than me! There was no way you'd ever look at me as anything other than an annoying little sister!” You say in a chuckle, the fiery whiskey encompassing all of your thoughts in a humorous glow.

"And if I told you I do look at you as something other than an annoying little sister?" His eyes flick to your lips for a millisecond before returning to your own (E/C) orbs. If you’d have blinked you would’ve missed it, but your full attention being fixed on the man before you meant that you hadn’t.

"Well... that would certainly change things." The possibility of one of your fantasy's coming true ignited you to your very core.

Silently, Tom rises from his seat and offers his hand to you. You take it, and he leads you to his office with the worst of intentions in mind.

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl

Pairing - Flip Zimmerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smoking, crime, (eventual) smut, racism (no slurs), sexism, general views/language of the time. 

A/N: Well, here’s the prologue to the multi-chapter fic I’m working on! I hope you enjoy, feedback welcome and appreciated, especially if you notice any over-description of the reader! This is a female reader based fic.

Flip Zimmerman sauntered into the Colorado Springs police department early Monday morning, his black hair in need of a trim, a bit of a shadow darkening his unshaven face. He’d had the previous week off, after wrapping up the Klan investigation with Jimmy and Ron. The chief had insisted they each take some time, and Flip ended up taking the whole week, though he knew his partner opted to simply take a day, and Ron only a few more than that. 

But Flip had needed the break-the case had exhausted him. It had drained him mentally to pretend to be one of the Klan, to agree with their views and utter slurs as if they rolled naturally off of his tongue. No, he had felt each moment with them chip away a little at his soul. So he took the time off; went fishing, watched television, did some work on his home, and spent some time with his family, who rarely got to see him. He didn’t live far from his parents, but with the hours he took on, it had been hard to visit often. They understood, but Flip knew his mother wished he would settle down, start a family of his own. She hated that he came home to an empty house, with no warm meal ready and waiting. Flip didn’t mind it so much, he was too busy at work to notice the void.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Flip wasn’t at his desk for more than twenty minutes before Jimmy came in, all smiles for Flip’s reappearance.

“Flip, welcome back kid.” Clapping his shoulder, Jimmy sank into his chair and fixed Flip with a knowing stare from across their desks. Flip frowned, wondering what had his friend in a chipper mood early on a Monday morning.

“Jimmy, the fuck are you staring at?” Flip grumbled though the threat in his voice was laced with affection for the man he’d called 'partner' for years now. 

More detectives and office workers began to filter in, coffees in hand, all greeting Flip with casual ease before they settled in and began their workdays. 

Jimmy shook his head, “Nothing, just glad to see your miserable face back, it’s been an interesting week.” The mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise. 

Flip didn’t look up at Jimmy’s words, merely smirking in response. He noticed then a neat stack of files on the left-hand side of his desk. When he grabbed the first, curious, he saw it was a case file of his, only it had been organized, and some of the sections of the report had been filled out for him. He stared a moment, shocked, before glancing up at Jimmy-whole was, annoyingly, still watching Flip.

He held up the file, “You do this, Jimmy?” 

But he was shaking his head before Flip finished speaking, “Nah don’t like you enough.” He didn’t elaborate and Flip was too stubborn to press the issue. Whatever. 

Flip glanced at the other files and saw they were the same. Someone had taken his paperwork, organized it and fill in the sections that were mostly clerical information, before returning them to his desk for him to finalize and submit. He had come in early specifically to finish off these files, and now his two-hour backlog was reduced to maybe thirty minutes of work. Impressed, and grateful, he began to work through the stack with his notes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the gesture-wherever it came from-was more than welcome. Paperwork was the least appealing part of this job.

At nine, the station was buzzing with activity normal for weekdays. Ron had greeted Flip warmly when he came in, advising him that Sergeant Trapp wanted to see them in his office in an hour, before moving to his desk and checking his messages. And while it felt like any other day in Colorado Springs, Flip, ever the detective, noticed the moment the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted. Every man in the room seemed far too damn chipper. 

He glanced up from proofreading his work to find many of his colleagues glancing toward the glass wall and doorway that led to the hallway, beyond which and out of sight, was the front lobby and administration desk. 

After a few moments, Flip turned his chair to face Ron, whose desk was behind his own, only to see his friend doing the same thing. He frowned, “The hell is everyone in a tizzy for, Rookie?”

Ron grinned, “Chief hired a new secretary for the front desk-“

“What, Donna finally got herself a helper?” Flip cut in, referring to the homely but overworked secretary that had been asking for a second in command for years, during which team the operation of the division had nearly doubled.

“Yep,” Ron nodded, “And Donna already looks like it’s made a world of difference for her, but wait until you meet, she’s incredible. Nicest lady I’ve ever met.” 

Flip rolled his eyes at this proclamation and spun back around, stacking his files together. He was glad to hear Donna had the help she needed now, it was a long time coming and would certainly make a difference for the entire station. Donna was like the mother hen, taking care of everything from coffee to endless paperwork, dealing with the public that came in, and everything else they could throw at her. She never complained, but always made the point of saying things would happen quicker if she were two people. He wondered what it would be like to have another Donna type woman in the office, but intended on giving it no further thought.

That is until he heard the distinct click of heels coming down the hallway, and glanced up, half interested, at the sound. 

He did a double-take when he saw her and felt himself freeze. Stunned into stillness, Flip immediately felt that Ron using the term ‘incredible’ to describe the new secretary was entirely understating this woman. Everyone’s heads in the room turned her way, and it wasn’t just anyone who could unknowingly conjure up that kind of reaction.

Dressed in a fashionably smart secretary dress, which was a shade of dark blue that perfectly accentuated her skin, the woman was breathtaking. Curvy, with long (Y/H/C) spilling down her back in soft waves, she wore kitten heels that gave her a small amount of extra height, yet she was still short. She walked with an air of peaceful grace, carrying a large basket in her arms. But it was her smile, dazzling and genuine, that captured his attention.

Flip had to shake his head slightly, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful creature dancing into the bullpen. He refocused on his files, hoping to look busy, all the while straining his ears to hear her speak.

“Happy Monday, boys.” She sang, and a chorus of good mornings and hello’s filled the air, “I hope you like banana bread because I’ve got two fresh loaves here, one plain and one with chocolate chips-Jimmy, I made that for you.” And Flip looked up in surprise in time to see her wink at Jimmy, who gave an appreciative laugh, then thanked her. 

She had set the basket down next to the water station, where there was a small foldout table set up. Sure enough, she pulled out two loaves of bread, already cut and laid out in smaller basket trays for them. She made quick work of setting out the loaves, plates and napkins before reaching into the basket, pulling something out she had wrapped in sandwich paper, and spinning around toward Flip.

He dropped his gaze before she noticed him, now making work of organizing his desk-why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? From behind him, Flip heard Ron give a small groan, “Tell me you didn’t.” But he sounded delighted.

“Ron, of course I did, don’t be so silly, it’s nothing.” This captured Flip’s attention entirely, and he gave up the pretence of tidying his desk to turn around and see what she had passed him. Inside the wrap was a slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Ron pinched a piece off with his fingers and tried it, giving an appreciative nod.

“That’s just like I remember, thank you.” He noticed Flip watching with a frown and grinned, “Oh, now, you two haven’t met yet, Flip’s just come back from vacation.” He clapped his hands together. 

Flip looked away from Ron and met the (y/e/c) eyes of the young woman standing a few feet away, who wasn’t much taller standing than Flip was seated. She reacted first, though Flip did notice her eyes widen slightly before she stepped forward, all smiles.

“Detective Zimmerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m (Y/F/N).” She stuck her hand out. Flip automatically grasped it, noticing how entirely tiny her hand was in his own. 

He tried to smile, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. Please, call me Flip.” She smiled at his words and Flip suddenly felt like his brain might be needing a jump start, as it was the prettiest smile he’d ever had directed at him. He felt warm and craved a cigarette. Or a cold shower. 

“Well, Flip, only if you call me (y/n).” 

Ron had watched the entire exchange with a shit-eating grin on his face, “(Y/N) here is an amazing baker, in addition to her many other skills that Donna can’t stop raving about, so before you know it, Zimmerman, you’ll be sporting a few extra pounds.” 

(Y/N) giggled. Truly giggled, and Flip found himself surveying her, trying to decide how old she was. She carried herself with a confidence and ease that seemed mature, yet she did appear youthful in many ways. “It’s what I’m known for, leaving heavyset men behind me everywhere I go.” She held up her hands, as if in defence of herself. 

Flip snorted, “And you take special requests?” He asked, nodding at the cake on Rons' desk.

“Oh, well that was actually what I baked for Sunday supper for my sister and me,” She leaned against Ron’s desk, her hands neatly folded in front of her, “And when I told Ron here what I was planning, he asked for a slice because I make it like his aunt used to.” She shrugged, giving Ron a friendly smile.

“It tastes exactly like hers, (Y/N), you’re the best.” 

“You two seem awfully, uh, close.” Flip remarked, and while Ron seemed unfazed and unbothered by the comment, he noticed that (Y/N) seemed to flinch slightly at the words, her smile disappearing. 

Flip knew he was a gruff, grumpy son of a bitch, but he was also always like that, and no one ever seemed to care. Now though, the tone and accusation that she might have assumed from his observation seemed to hit a nerve, and her demeanour shifted, embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, well Ron’s been a gem, being pretty new here himself. He’s helped show me the ropes,” She murmured, “I should get back to it-nice to meet you, Detective.” And she hurried away, still taking time to greet those she passed, before disappearing down the hall.

“Man, Zimmerman, you have a way with the ladies.” Ron deadpanned, shaking his head at Flip, who was staring toward the hallway feeling both annoyed and guilty. He glared at Ron, who was shaking his head, a hand clapped dramatically to his face, “A real Romeo.”

“Fuck off, Rookie,” He growled. A thought jumped at him then, “Wait, is she the one who did all this-‘ He gestured at his files ‘While I was off?”

Ron rolled his eyes now, “Of course she did-she helps everyone stay on top of paperwork. When I told her you were off last week, she made a point of getting you all caught up.” Again, Flip stared down the hall, his mind working. 

He just wasn’t very good at socializing, or making friends. He was gruff and sarcastic and his sheer size usually kept others at a distance. He had a hard time knowing the right thing to say, especially to someone as pretty and kind as (Y/N). He hadn’t thought his words would come out the way they did, sounding accusatory, and he wished he could take them back. 

- 

Over an hour later, Flip was still replaying the interaction in his mind, over and over. When he, Ron and Jimmy re-emerged from Sarge’s office, new assignments in hand, he had come to a decision. He had never been one to simply leave something unaddressed, not if it bothered him. And while he was certainly terrible at socializing, he would never stand for himself to be ungentlemanly. First impressions were important, and he intended to correct this one.

While Ron and Jimmy continued toward the bullpen, Flip turned right and stomped down the hallway, entirely missing his friends exchange a knowing look behind his back. As he approached the front desk, his eyes peeled looking for her (y/h/c) hair, he was surprised to notice how tidy and welcoming it now looked. 

(Y/N) had made quick work of reorganizing and decorating, which was probably why Donna was nowhere to be found, no doubt in the files room making work of the backlog she’d been complaining about for years. Flip figured she must be in the best mood of her life. 

The reception was empty, however, and Flip wondered where (Y/N) must be. He continued to march forward, considering if he should look around for her, or wait at the desk, when a door on his left, which led to the bathrooms, opened. Before Flip could stop, she was suddenly hurrying out of the doorway and slammed directly into his side, gasping in surprise.

Flip had just managed to turn his body slightly toward her before they collided, allowing his arms to shoot out and large hands to grab her shoulders as she bounced off of him and fell backwards. Steadying her, he peered, “Damn it, darling, I’m sorry-are you alright?” 

She was wide-eyed, her head tilted back to meet his eyes. He released her, taking a polite half step back. “I’m fine, goodness, I should apologize, I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.” Her hands moved to her waist, where her dress tie sat, and began to redo the knot absentmindedly. 

Flip raised a brow, “Something scare ya?” When her face flushed at his words, his eyes drank in the sight, heart rate speeding somewhat. He watching her curiously.

“I, um,” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly as if attempting to find the strength to speak, “It’s silly, I was washing my hands and noticed a big spider and I really, really hate spiders-I live alone and I can never kill them easily, I always get the broom so I can stay far back, so I thought I’d run out here and find a broom-“ Abruptly, she stopped speaking when Flip began to laugh, and after a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across her face-dazzling white teeth on display.

“I can kill it for ya’, no need to resort to desperate measures,” He joked, happy to see his words cause her to giggle slightly, “But do me a favour?” He added, his expression becoming serious. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him curiously, “What’s that, detective?”

Flip took a breath, “Accept my apology, for earlier,” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’m a grumpy S-O-B and my words came out harsher than I intended, I only meant to tease. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously as he spoke.

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, crossing her arms across her chest, a small smile on her pretty lips. Flip kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to be disrespectful by ogling her, but it was impossible not to notice the way her bust pressed out when her arms wrapped under them. He needed a cigarette. And probably a proper smack around the head. 

“Of course I accept, detective,” (Y/N) was smiling properly now, “Jimmy warned me you were a mean lumberjack-his word, not mine. I just-“ She paused, “Worried I’d given the wrong impression, is all. I’ve got a good work ethic and don’t want anyone thinking I’m silly or chatty over hardworking.” 

Flip was surprised at how serious her tone turned, her words heavy with concern. “You organized all my files for me, while I was off?” 

“Yes-why?” 

Flip laughed, “Darling, that knocked two hours of painful catch-up off my plate and we hadn’t even met before, I can already tell you’re impressive, so if anyone here ever tries to question that, you send them to me.” He huffed, glancing at the bathroom door, “I’ll go kill that monster in there for you.” 

She had flushed again at his words, something that sent a jolt of electricity through his core. Flip realized he was well and truly fucked for this woman, and he’d only known her an hour.

“Wait,” He paused at the door to the bathrooms, glancing back. She was giving him her best little grin now, “Thank you, Flip.” 

He merely nodded, before stepping through the doorway to kill the damned spider.

Although, he thought, maybe he should thank it instead.

Chapter 1

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 07

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A philosophical slant, (heavy) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom being absolute hubby material, Werewolf!Jaebeom being awkward and (a bit of a) pervert, domestic fluff, talk of medication, apparently werewolves don’t like to wear clothes (what is my canon...), talk of life and death, mention of blood, mild swearing

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.

Well, here it is, earlier and much longer than originally planned. It’s also a lot more tragic and philosophical than I intended it to be, but then again, what else can you expect from a tragedian fascinated by the human condition even as it is translated into the realm of the magical?

I think I just thought of the modern literary movement I might belong to: magic realism.

It’s a crying shame the Decadent Movement isn’t active anymore, though, because that one truly feels like a good fit for me both as an author and an individual. Ah well, c’est la vie.

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Masterlist

There is nothing better for a wolf than being with its mate. 

Well, there is one thing.

Having them completely at your mercy as you’re inside them.

I still don’t understand what the plastic wrapping is good for, but Jinyoung was very insistent on using it while we drove to the airport. And Y/N seemed glad I had whatever it is, her scent even betraying a hint of relief. However, one day, I hope she’ll tell me not to use it.

No, that’s not right. There’s a word for the… whatever it is.

A condom.

That’s the word.

I hope she’ll tell me not to use a condom. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in season or not, although the chances she’ll pup are higher if I am. I want pups with her, a little pack of our own. I want it to be our toddler running around the park, chasing its sibling. Then again, will I remain human long enough to see them grow up?

Will I even remember their birth on the day they’re born?

Will I still be here?

Or remain without a family, a proud bloodline?

I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight bathing the room in a warm golden hue, swallow hard and force myself to calm down. There is no use in contemplating this now, not this early in the day nor in our time together. What counts is that I’m here now with Y/N in my arms and we’re in her apartment somewhere.

A faint whiff of brine seeps in through the air cleaner filter above the window overlooking the city. A gull flies by and lands on the roof of the building opposite ours.

Sea. Rusted metal. Right, the old harbour.

A high-pitched noise, a disquiet hum followed by a sigh, makes my ears perk up. I look down at the lady sleeping on my chest, curled up and fingers balled into small fists similar to a bunny’s paws. More importantly, however, she’s perfectly alright and was only unconsciously trying to get more comfortable.

A breathless chuckle rises in my throat at the display. Y/N’s adorable even when she’s fast asleep, her lips parted yet not enough to allow drooling.

I, on the other hand, am another story. I don’t do it often, but I must have been so tired last night I triggered the habit. The finger I swipe over the corners of my mouth comes away wet both times.

Oh no, I didn’t drool on her, did I? Would she mind, though, if I explained it’s a sign I’m comfortable with her?

It isn’t hard to guess the answer to the question. She would beat me over the head, likely with a shoe, and say I’m not allowed to bite her at all anymore. Not even in the future.

In a hurry to discover whether I made the fatal mistake, I check her messy hair but keeping my movements controlled to not wake her up. Fortunately, there are no locks sticking together nor a trail running down over the side of her face.

With a deep sigh, I slump further down into the bed again and kiss her crown. However, I don’t go back to sleep despite the comfort of the sheets. Instead, I lift the lady’s head and gently put her down on the pillow as I get up, carefully calculating every movement like I do when hunting to make sure she won’t wake up or notice my absence in her unconscious state.

The faint smell of burned iron comes from somewhere when I rearrange the sheets to bundle Y/N up. My mouth dries up, throat blocked by something I can’t swallow as a familiar stench disturbs the morning happiness. Former intentions abandoned, I claw through the sheets to try and discover where the rank odour comes from.

Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Why is she bleeding? Where is it? Where’s the blood?

As suspected, the frantic search wakes the pretty lady. Propped up on an elbow, eyes half-closed and brows furrowed, she turns to me. “Jae, what-’’ she yawns, “What’re you doing?”

Barely has she asked the question or I find what I’ve been looking for.

On her side of the bed, between her thighs, is a puddle of dried blood.

Where did it come from? Did I… Did I do this?

I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close to check her condition, turning her this way and that as each thought grows more troubled. “Are you okay?” There’s nothing to see on the bare skin of her upper body. “Are you hurt?”

Maybe the wound is somewhere lower, on her hip or leg. I didn’t bite her last night. Right? I didn’t hurt her. At least, I don’t think I did. No. Surely the wolf- I wouldn’t harm her. I had enough control to prevent that from happening. Yes, that’s the case.

But then, with a fading mind, how much can I trust myself?

“Jaebeom, I’m fine. What are you- ah.” Y/N notices the spot of dark crimson when I pull the sheets completely off the bed and toss them aside. She lets out an incomprehensibly careless chuckle, evidently oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“What are you giggling about? Y/N, you’re bleeding!” I bark, lost.

A small paw cups my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin in an attempt to calm me down. “You took my virginity. It’s natural to bleed a little when that happens.”

“Are you still in pain?” Even though it’s natural, surely it’s not without repercussions. Otherwise, the stain wouldn’t be there.

“No, I’m not, silly. I’m okay.” She kisses the tip of my nose when I let out a whine, unhappy with the response. Withal, a curious tone in her voice overtakes my own displeasure. “Are you?”

Why do you say it like that?

She sounds weird, hinting at something I’m supposed to find as obvious as she. Yet, I have no clue about what it can be. So, I tilt my head and stare blankly at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’m fine.” 

My choice of words makes her visibly flinch despite the effort to hide it. The sleepiness which glazed her eyes evaporated, leaving them devoid of the amusement at my failure as a human. The recognizable sour note of anxiety creeps back into her scent, setting off alarm bells in my mind. “I’m alright. No pain. Happy to be here. Happy to wake up next to you.”

I rub her arms in a poor attempt to make her calm down, have her scent return to its spring-like fruitiness. She is supposed to smell like fresh fruit still hanging from the trees, yet to ripen. Not like fallen fruit beginning to decay in the summer sun.

“Okay,” is all she says in response before she pulls away, the absence of the warmth of her palm sending a cold shiver throughout my body.

The world always seems a little colder without her.

“Want breakfast?” A low grumble pierces the silence following the question, giving me enough of a response. And a reason to get my head, no, that’s not the idiom. To get my thoughts ordered. Organized. To get my thoughts in order? To think about… stuff. Last night. This. Everything. “Never mind. I’m making you breakfast. You have to eat.”

I stand up and head for the bathroom to first get rid of the weird plastic wrapping she put on me last night. Having thrown it in the bin there after a bit of an awkward struggle removing it, I move to the kitchen. Nevertheless, I don’t start preparing food right away. Instead, I pick up the grey hoodie I gave her from the bag between the sofa and chair facing the kitchen. I remember how she held it up to her nose, breathed in and basked in the scent.

My scent.

A fragment of last night’s memory.

I remember we had sex and that she told me I’m her first, but afterwards things are blurry.

Smell. I said something about how nicely she smells. Not really an original compliment since I’ve said it a lot already, but I can’t help but focus on it.

And then…

Then…

Then instinct took over because I let it, thinking I’d remain in control even though I let go a little. After all, I’ve learned enough to know how to deal with the wolf inside thanks to the rehabilitation procedure Jinyoung put me through and supervised. Since then, there’s been a healthy balance between human and beast in my mind.

Or, rather, there was one.

I think.

Another boundary to watch out for. I have to keep myself in check. No more experimenting.

Because to do so is to forget.

And I want to remember.

 I stop absent-mindedly thumbing the piece of clothing, drape it over the armrest of the sofa and head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Unfortunately, the fridge quickly brings my plan to a halt, empty except for a pack of soy milk and a tray of eggs. The groceries Jinyoung and I got were only enough for dinner last night and there are no leftovers.

To be fair, she did just come back from a trip abroad. But still, is there really nothing to work with?

I sigh in defeat and grab the plant-based milk to pour it over the apple and cinnamon granola I find in the cupboard above the sink. At least it’s food and drink in one meal.

From the drawer next to the oven, I grab two spoons which I put into the bowls, grab the hoodie from the couch and return to the bedroom.

Y/N sits with her back turned to me, but flips around a little too fast for my liking once she hears my paws approaching. “Jaebeom?”

The terrible mixture of barely suppressed horror and genuine concern in her gaze has translated into her voice, which is cold and calculating. The sour note of anxiety hasn’t faded from her scent, creating a stone to sink to the bottom of my stomach because there’s only one thing that can be a distressing factor this early in the day.

Me.

Withal, the reason why she’s scared puzzles me since I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I’ve simply been me since I woke up.

Human.

Although, that’s me now.

Last night, I don’t know who or what I was though it isn’t hard to guess.

The pretty lady traces the deep indentation in the headboard of the bed with her fingers bent to resemble a claw. “Did you do this?”

Did- Did I? No. I- I don’t know. I was less strict with myself last night and don’t remember much, but surely I wasn’t gone enough to do this.

I hope.

I think.

I’m not sure.

But the reality provides the necessary evidence to repute any kind of denial I can offer.

I set the bowls down on the nightstand and crawl back on the bed to sit next to her. Gently, I nudge her hand aside to mimic her action, my own fingers perfectly fitting into the large gash. “I don’t know.”

A surge of violence shoots throughout my body, triggering the nagging feeling of a forgotten memory strong enough to knock the air out the lungs and split my skull with flashes of a memory. Nevertheless, the fragments pass by too fast to make sense of them and the mere attempt to do so worsens the headache. I flinch and scramble backwards with a paw- a hand pressed to my head as if I can thus suppress the pain. Yet, I remain unable to look at anything but the damage.

“I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice hardly louder than a scared whisper.

“I felt your skin move beneath my fingers last night,” Y/N starts, catching my attention with the timid response suggestive of requiring more explanation.

Exactly what I don’t have since I can’t even explain it myself.

This shouldn’t be happening.

“I think I did, at least,” she adds doubtfully on a shivery breath. The sourness sweetens to doubt instead of anxiety. Nonetheless, it’s still worrying she’s ill… uncomfortable.

“Did I-“ I swallow hard, forcing out the words describing my worst nightmare. “Did I transform?”

“Transform?’’ She briefly turns her gaze from me to the indentation, lips parted in an attempt to articulate a thought that’s dismissed with a headshake the second thereafter. Her attention returns to me, her expression slackened. ‘’What are you- What… No, you didn’t, but you looked far away. Retreated further into your own world, more so than you normally are.”

“That’s good,” I mumble, nodding as I, too, briefly return my attention to the claw mark. “Was human. Good.”

Still, need to talk to the weird-smelling intruder. Doctor. Friend. Name, his name. Jinyoung. Jesus, man, get yourself together. Your name is Im Jaebeom. You’re a twenty-eight old werewolf that- no, who runs a bookshop called Paper Souls. Jinyoung is your friend, doctor and supervisor appointed to you by... by... some organization.

“Jaebeom,” the pretty lady puts her hand on my shoulder, features softened instead of frozen and marred by fear, “have you taken your medication yet?”

The natural fruity undertone seems forced to be stronger.

You should be scared. I might have- I made that claw mark. Why treat me like a human? I’m a wolf.

“Me- Med-“ The strange word barely registers until a spark of humanity recalls its definition. “Medication. Pills. No, I- I haven’t.”

“Let me grab a glass of water and get them.”

She ruffles my hair, jumps off the bed and rushes out of the room. I listen to her bare feet lightly treading the floor as she moves on the other side of the wall, hurried steps going from the hallway, where she rummages in my coat for the rattling bottle of pills, to the kitchen. There, she opens a cupboard to grab a glass. The loud clinking of glass alongside the sour undertone in her scent indicates she almost accidentally caused several to fall out and break on the tiles. Fortunately, judging by the deep sigh of relief, Y/N could prevent it from happening.

She turns on the tab, fills the glass with water, turns the tab off and walks back into the room.

“There you go,” she says, handing me the small brown bottle and water. 

The mattress dips a bit when she sits down next to me with one of the bowls filled with cereal in her hands. After stirring the spoon around like she is trying to evade something, Y/N finally takes a first careful bite. Nevertheless, she starts eating properly after I kiss her temple, which is an apparently effective form of encouragement. I have to remember that. 

Quietly seated in the golden sunlight, we have our first breakfast together. I don’t mind her watching me as I’m taking my medication, measuring out the amount Jinyoung told me to take. Or, rather, as much as the label notes I should. Immediately my gag reflex is triggered when I put them in my mouth, the taste of bitter metal extremer than before so it’s like licking one of the rusted over buoys drifting in the harbour.

He’s increased the nightshade and silver. Damn, I think even the worst coffee tastes better than this.

“That bad?”

“Yep.” I open and close my mouth, nauseous due to the sickening taste lingering on my tongue. To prevent the bile rising in my throat from escaping, I gulp down the water. Unfortunately, it only washes down part of the bitterness.

She holds up a spoon with milk-soaked granola to feed to me, but I turn it down and shake my head. I might actually throw up if I eat anything right now. 

Disappointment flashes across her face, though it’s gone in an instant as she puts her bowl down and stands up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“But... food,” I meekly offer and point at the half-empty bowl on the nightstand. She should put herself before me. 

Because I’ll be fine.

“We’re missing something important. Coffee,” the bunny-like lady playfully responds before she bounces off again to the kitchen.

The pleasant and slightly sweet scent of instant cappuccino warms the apartment, replacing the sharp scent of frozen water alluding to hail later on in the day. It’s a little early in the year, but soon the first snows will fall.

Hopefully, she’ll move before then so we can spend Christmas in her cottage. Although, it doesn’t even have to be the holidays. I’d light a fire, drape a blanket over our shoulders and keep Y/N close to warm her with mine as we read and look at the snowfall.

Like a snowflake falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling before our eyes, so we pass through life. At this rate, I think the next snowfall might be the last I’ll see.

Consciously.

Meaningfully.

Like a human.

The snowflake will faintly fall on the man I am, descend on the husk I’m becoming, while she will continue living.

Without me.

The living and the dead.

I smile wistfully until the same shot of pain treks through me as when I tried to fill in the gaps of the fragmented memory. Folded in on myself, cold sweat on my skin and short of breath, I press my palms against my snout to push the agony away.

The pained groaning must have alarmed the pretty lady because she rushes to my side and pushes one of the mugs in her little paws… hands in mine. “Here, take a sip. The caffeine will help.”

As told, I nip at the hot beverage. Indeed, the cappuccino lessens the headache and cold shivers that ran down my spine and threatened to spread. Though I dislike instant coffee, it actually tastes good when she prepares it. I sigh in relief, blow on the coffee to cool it down, and slowly drink it while Y/N caresses my jaw and ear just the way I like it. At the same time, she comforts me with her soothing voice, murmuring words of solace and assurance as she sits down next to me again. 

I could listen to you all day. Maybe I should ask you to read to me sometime. Although, not maybe. I’ll ask it later. Note to self, write a note on your phone to ask her to read to you. Also, make note of kissing her temple.

My reverie is broken up by a comment which rubs me the wrong way. “I have to go to the office later today-’’

“Already? You just got home.”

“They’re counting on me, Jae. Besides, I’m not that jet-lagged.”

“It’s not healthy. You should stay home. Rest,” I bark. Her eyes widen, taken aback by my bluntness.

She opens and closes her mouth, planning to say something yet deciding against it. Instead, she tugs my ear. “I’ll be fine. And you have your shop to look after, so let’s both work hard today.”

“Still,” I take another sip, “I don’t think you should go.”

“As long as I have caffeine, I should be able to manage. How about this? I’ll come to your shop as soon as I’m done with work and cook for us. We’ll have a cosy night in like we had last night.”

“Last night was ‘cosy’ indeed,” I murmur, hoping she catches on to what I’m alluding to.

“It was. I really liked it.” Her lashes flutter with the memories of last night, cheeks tinged pink. Unfortunately, the heartstopping girlish giggle is short-lived and becomes serious too soon. “But while I did, I think we shouldn’t do it again so soon.”

“Agreed,” I respond, mind occupied by the ripples of transformation and the splashes of pain wanting to remember something significant only communicated in incomprehensible flashes.

Distorted.

Like the memories of the forest.

I need to call Jinyoung. He needs to know.

 “What shall we eat tonight?”

The change in subject is welcome, but also a confusing bridge to cross. How can humans go from severe to casual without a care? The aspect of communication has me furrow my brows as I try to work out the mech… work… nuts and bolts behind it. Nevertheless, I answer the question. “I thought you had a plan already.”

The corners of her mouth curl up into a cat-like grin. “I have no idea, so that’s why I’m asking you. You’re a better chef than I am.”

“I’m not that good,” I murmur, my ears lowered like a shy pup. “But I’d like something we can make together.”

“Pancakes?”

“Yes!’’ I bark, leaning in and grabbing the sheets to contain the excitement at cooking together. ‘’Yes, I’d like that!”

A flicker of doubt passes over her face, hesitant in the way she tends to be when it concerns food. However, a second later, she taps me on the nose with a content hum. “Pancakes it is.”

While Y/N showers, I clean the dishes and pull the sheets off of the bed so she can bring them to the laundry. Although, maybe I could do it myself. I’d have to text Jinyoung for instructions since he always does mine, but even then it shouldn’t be too difficult. Humans do laundry all the time. It’s part of their routine and if they can do it, so can I.

I hope.

As I’m making the bed and contemplating the process to get at least the blood stain out of the fabric, my mate walks back into the room. Her wet hair is bundled up in a towel that’s smaller than the one wrapped around her body. The addition of the scents of cherry blossoms and matcha to the blend of summer fruits drives me dizzy as she moves to the wardrobe.

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help looking as the towel falls to the floor to reveal her naked body. An appreciative growl unconsciously rises from my throat, a surge of heat culminating between my legs.

Just one more time. I’ll keep myself in check. Behave. I’ll behave.

“Jaebeom,” cheeks flushed, Y/N glances over her shoulder, “don’t even think about it.”

“Sorry,” I mumble as I shuffle to her side to help her put on her bra by closing the clasps. When they click in place, I place a kiss between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against my lips. “I know what we agreed on.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and let my head rest on her shoulder. Eyes closed, I try to keep a clear mind as she scratches me behind the ear.

“It’s not necessarily... that.” Her voice is light, wanting to move past the concerns of last night with humour. “It’s rather the thought I wouldn’t get to leave for the office at all if we go back to bed.”

“You’re right.” I decide to play along, if only to give us both some peace of mind. So, I bury my nose in the side of her neck, nuzzling her and earning myself a bird-like giggle that spreads a nice fuzzy feeling inside. “I wouldn’t let you go. We’d read the day away with coffee.”

“Tea, in your case. Doctor’s orders. I don’t want you bouncing around the place. You’re my calm, well, sort of calm bookish wolf. Not a supercharged husky.”

It’s a lame joke, but nevertheless makes me laugh.

“What will you wear today?” I ask, glancing at the clothes on the hangers.

Here and there, there’s a colourful item in the collection. Withal, the majority of the items are mono… one-toned... black and white items to be switched up with a dark-shaded checkered blouse.

My attention drifts to the long white dress with lemons. The fabric is on the thin side, which makes it suitable for summer or a warm spring.

I’d love to see you in that dress, if only just once.

She pouts her lips. “I was thinking about grey high-waisted jeans with a black button-up shirt and ankle boots.”

“Wear my hoodie,” I whine, upset my… my girlfriend. That sounds nice. My girlfriend. It makes me upset that my girlfriend doesn’t plan on wearing one of the things I gave her. “You like the grey one, right?”

“I do, but-’’

“Then wear it.”

She sighs, shakes her head and turns around to look up at me. “There’s something like a dress code at the office.”

“Don’t care.” I nudge her nose with mine, bark lowered to a woof to persuade her to go with my choice. “You’ll look better. More pretty.”

“If you put a pair of boxers on, I’ll wear the hoodie. Deal?”

“But they’re uncomfortable. I only wore them because Jinyoung told me to.”

“Then I won’t wear the hoodie.” Little devilish will-o’-the-wisps light up her eyes as the corners of her mouth curl up into a taunting grin. “Shame. Now my colleagues won’t get to see I have a boyfriend.”

The tables have flipped since I’m apparently not the only one who’s good at using their charms.

Nevertheless, reluctant to start a fight over this, I let out a compromising chuff. “Okay, fine.”

Humans and their clothes. I like yours, but you’d look even better in mine. Still, I’m only doing this because I want every male at your office and in the city to know you’re mine.

No matter what size they are, clothing is a thing I absolutely haven’t missed. Notwithstanding, to please my mate, I wriggle myself back into the tight short trousers and the loose pants to wear over them. Y/N gives me a warning look when she sees me fumbling with my shirt, hopefully missing out on the obvious clue I secretly hope she’ll let me off easy.

Of course she doesn’t.

“Yes, Jae, also the shirt,” she chastises me like a mother disciplines a rebellious pup. “And the shoes. You don’t want other people to call the cops after seeing a naked man in the streets.” Unaware of the fact I can hear her perfectly even as she mutters under her breath, she adds. ‘’Or me to pick you up at the police station because of it.’’ 

Amused by the funny image the fantastical scenario creates in my mind, I relent. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once we’re both dressed, Y/N makes way for the bathroom to do her makeup. Ignoring my protests it’s unnecessary since there’s nothing to hide or improve to make me love her more, she closes the door behind her and locks it.

There goes the plan of dragging her out of there by the collar to have her scratch my jaw and ear again instead. A much better way to pass the time, if you ask me.

In the meanwhile, I return to the bedroom to take a picture of the damage with my phone and send it to Jinyoung.

Jaebeom: We need to talk.

Immediately, I get a response.

Jinyoung: Yes, we absolutely do. Everything OK?

Jaebeom: Yes, Y/N is fine. Alive. A little shaken, but so am I. Well, we’re more than a little shaken. Fuck, Jinyoung, I don’t know what happened.

Jinyoung: I’ll drop by later today. I have to give a lecture in a bit and have to see a new patient afterwards. He’s going through the reintegration program right now and needs a little extra help.

Jaebeom: Help with what? What is he?

Jinyoung: A wolf. Not a standard case.

Jaebeom: Anything I can help with?

Jinyoung: I think you need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll be at the shop around two.

Footsteps disturb the silence, going from the bathroom to the hallway.

That was quick. Are females always this fast with applying their face?

It’s a funny phrase, ‘applying my face’. Also, it’s the argument the pretty lady used as the final word on the matter. But she already has a face so there’s no need to apply a second like some Greek god.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Ears perked, I glance around the corner into the living room and in Y/N’s direction.

“Work?” she answers sheepishly, looking back at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. In her hands is the black trench coat she was about to put on.

Fortunately, she’s kept her makeup natural with a golden brown eyeshadow, a bit of a black line to accentuate her eyes and something to enhance her lashes. It’s a natural look which some of the female customers could learn from with their fake lips or chest that makes them reek of silicone and plastic. Their makeup, often overemphasizing their fake features, doesn’t add to their supposed charm. In fact, it makes me turn my snout away even faster if their attitude already hasn’t.

I’d never offer them coffee or want them around more than once.

But not her.

Not Y/N.

I can’t remember if she wore the same makeup when we met, but I vaguely recall a sense of calm and need for protection alongside a strange recognition. A connection that would make all the puzzle pieces of my life fit together.

The missing last piece.

“Not so fast.” I swiftly move to her side to kiss her forehead. No way I’m letting her go without giving her at least one more.

“There,” I pet her head, griggling and sweeping my tail triumphantly, “now you’re free to go.”

“I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, you know?” She stands on the tip of her toes to peck me on the lips, slightly swaying side to side to keep her balance.

So I lean forward to make it easier for her and chuckle against her lips. “Have a good day at work, Y/N.”

“You too, Jae.”

And with that, she puts on her coat, grabs her bag and opens the front door. She lingers in the doorway, waving half-heartedly as a final word of goodbye.

I wave back, faking a smile to see her off without worry.

Being human again isn’t so bad.

However, the deadline is another story.

The shop is as tranquil as it is on any other day. The quietness of unread words hangs between the shelves, the only noise to disrupt the silence being the rustle of a page being turned. Seated by the window as per usual, listening to the hail in the dim light, I read the time away, but whereas it’s normally a form of amusement and pleasure, it now functions in part to forget this morning’s discovery.

I didn’t mean to pry, but I inspected Y/N’s bookshelves before I left her apartment. There was the usual assortment of classics, but also a lot of Asian fiction, a genre I haven’t delved into too much yet. So, of course with the intention of returning it, I took Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami with me.

She must have read it recently because her fruity scent still lingers on the paper. The summer blend distracts me to the point that the movement of the hands of the clock pass unnoticed in the background.

Regardless of the appointed time, it’s half past two instead of two o’clock that Jinyoung comes in. In his one hand he holds a carrier with two paper cups, the sleeves on them decorated with the silhouette of a black wolf and the name of the café printed in vintage letters beneath the design, the letters spelling out Wolf’s. Judging by the scent, it’s tea the doctor has brought with him. Apple cinnamon for me, since that’s the only one I like, and rooibos for himself.

In his other hand, he holds his bag. One of the claps has either not been fastened before he left or came undone along the way. Whatever the reason, it’s clear he came here in a hurry.

“Sorry I’m late. Christian and I had a lot more to discuss than we thought.” Jinyoung stumbles inside, puts the tea and his bag on the counter, and turns around to lock the door and flip the sign so we can talk in private.

A hint of leather mixed with coffee and wood is mixed in with his own.

Male.

Threat.

Teeth gritted and jaw clenched, I make a mental note to myself to keep this scent away from Y/N. To keep this Christian away from her.

“Jaebeom,” the other male sighs. His tone holds a silent warning of being close to breaking some kind of boundary.

“What?” The answer rolls off the tongue as a growl rather than an actual question. Not that it matters since he must have had a lot worse to endure from me. Besides, it’s not him I’m pissed at so he’s safe.

Although, the wild undertone in his already peculiar personal blend alludes to the opposite.

Has he always smelled like this or is this new? He is human, but then why does my instinct tell me to watch out for him, that there’s more than to him? Strange. 

“He’s no competition. I think he might have imprinted with my colleague, although neither he nor she might be aware of it.” He rolls his eyes. “The gods know whether Gráinne will do anything with it. I wonder if... no, I don’t think either of them told her anything.”

A grim wistfulness stains his voice, which ignites a curiosity about his colleague’s circumstances. Notwithstanding, that story will have to wait until another day and his willingness to tell me.

Still, I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, open the notes app, and jot down a short reminder to ask about it at a later date.

“Anyway,” Jinyoung steps away from the door, hands me the cup with apple cinnamon tea, and gestures at the worn couch by the window overlooking the west side of the neighbourhood, “we’re here to talk about you. About the picture you sent.”

We move away from the counter to the sofa. A burst of hail spatters against the glass as we sit down.

I’m glad to have something to hold to conceal the shivers running through my body at the image of the claw mark mixed with the memory of what Y/N told me she felt. Or, rather, thought she felt although I’m certain she actually did feel the first ripples of transformation.

For a moment, we sit in silence as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. Nipping on the tea with my shoulders curled over my chest, I try to reconstruct last night as best I can.

As much as my memory lets me.

To break the... something. There’s an idiom, no, a phrase? A saying.

I don’t know.

Not anymore.

To make it easier, likely noticing the struggle to say anything, Jinyoung speaks up. “There’s more than the photo. You’re leaving things out, things I need to know to help. What aren’t you telling me, Jaebeom?”

“Y/N-” I begin, my breath unsteady as I restart the sentence, “Y/N said she felt my skin move and if I try to remember last night, I can only recall fragments that give me a headache when I try to string them together. Which I can’t.”

He pales, frozen in place as the weird briny scent sours. “That shouldn’t-’’

“Shouldn’t happen,” I finish the remark. 

A horrifying idea arises that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end and has me nervously tapping my thumbs together as I try not to squeeze the cup in my paws. Nonetheless, voice a low woof bordering on a melancholic whine, I tell the doctor what’s on my mind. “I think the pills stopped working. Completely. I- I don’t think-’’

The world stops, shrinks, and strings my chest as tight as a string as I shrink within myself. Each thought evaporates as fast as the flashes in the wolf’s memory, incoherent if meant to be sensible at all.

The snow hasn’t even come.

I can’t leave her alone.

I don’t want to leave this life.

I don’t want to go just when being human again starts to get good.

I don’t want to be the old me again.

  “I think so too,” Jinyoung agrees grimly. “If I increase the silver and nightshade or the doses it will kill you.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes sharp with focus as he poses the question I’ve been wondering about myself. “Does she know what you are?”

I shake my head. I might be her weirdo wolf guy, but she’d never believe me if I told her what I really am. Besides, werewolves are the stuff of fiction these days.

We’re no longer seen as a real threat nor have the power and status we used to have in the days of yore. We are devoid of an identity acknowledged by humans.

But, if I don’t possess an identity, am I really here?

Alive?

Or dead like the wolf inside?

Paradise is calling, the song of the forest playing like a red thread through my broken memory.

Beckoning me home.

The woods are calling.

And I must not go.

Jinyoung’s new question pulls me out of my reverie, just in time before the train of thought would crash and burn. “Are you going to tell her?”

“No.” I take a sip of the sweet tea, to have a second of bliss and enjoy a new human pleasure.

Another happiness I discovered a little too late.

“Will you at least tell her about your meds?” Even though she’s seen me take them, Y/N doesn’t know what they’re for. But, then again, did she look at the label?

Regardless of whether she did or not, she’s perhaps not truly ignorant to the reason I have to take them. After all, she thinks they combat my amnesia, which is partially true. It’s a half-truth.

But the real reason is a secret I intend to keep.

“No,” I repeat, determined in my answer regardless of the world spinning out of control. “I won’t tell her.”

“She deserves that much, doesn’t she? She’s your girlfriend, Jay.’’ Although his features have softened, the doctor’s voice rises to a fierce bark as he reinforces his point. ‘’Your mate.”

“I can’t tell her,’’ I retort, my bark closer to a growl than a civilized answer. Tears brim on the edge of my lashes, obscuring my vision in spite of my attempts to blink them away. The vision of Y/N by herself in the snow, on her knees in the middle of the orchard, blocks my throat and makes breathing harder than it already was. 

The vision changes to the image of a spring day close to summer, warm enough for her to wear the dress with the lemons. She’s seated in the same position between the trees which are now white and pink with blossom. However, whereas her belly was flat before, it’s now swollen, pregnant with pups.

My pups?

No, I have to stay here.

I have to survive the winter.

I have to be here if I ever change my mind and want to start a pack with her.

I must be here.

But the question is whether I actually can.

At this rate, I’m not sure.

I don’t know.

But I know enough to explain why I’m reluctant to tell my pretty lady anything. ‘’I can’t tell her, because the news will hurt her and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Plus, what am I supposed to say? I’m a wolf that turned into a man and is slowly dying, going back to his old form in which it... he. Am human. In which he’ll be stuck until it- He! Am human! Until he dies?

“Y/N has to know about this, Jaebeom.’’ A hand on my shoulder makes me look up from the floor to the man next to me. ‘’How about I talk to her, tell her what you told me and discuss what our options are as well as a plan for the future?”

“You’re right.” I let out a mirthless griggle. “Fuck, I hate it when you are. But… But how will you… explain, uhm, explain… this- me! How will you explain me? What I am? For all she cares, werewolves are my- myth- fic-’’ I throw my head back, frustrated I can’t find the right word or properly speak.

Jinyoung gives me an encouraging squeeze, kindheartedly chuckling at my failure. “I know what you mean. Nobody comes into our world willingly or at least without a good reason. I think your... situation is enough of the latter for her to get involved too. She doesn’t have to join the branch, I’ll leave that up to her. But, if Y/N decides to believe me, or us for that matter, she’ll at least have a community to rely on when you, you know, you’re...”

“When I’m gone.’’ The hesitance to state the facts makes me grimace and my tone sharper than intended. ‘’We both know where this is heading so just say it.”

“Fine,’’ the doctor puts his hands up as if he’s at the risk of being shot ‘’when you’re gone.”

“What’ll happen to the shop?” I gesture around the paper paradise, changing the topic slightly. Books have been another treasure of humanity I will forever be grateful for, especially since I hopefully have created a legacy with them that’s worth keeping.

The doctor glances around, a somber expression on his face. “Either the university will keep it and maintain it as a potential workplace in the reintegration program or sell it off. I don’t know, real estate doesn’t fall within my jurisdiction.”

“Ah, I see.” I lower my head, gaze averted to the half-empty cup in my paws.

Funny how I once thought of making this a family business or to have at least my pup’s name on the spine of one of these books. If I ever had them, would they like to be a writer? Would Y/N tell them their absent father, I... I love... loved to read?

I force myself to forget the thought, swallow despite having a dry mouth, and shake my head. “Thank you. For wanting to tell her. She’ll come over tonight, so-’’

He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ll text her so we can meet at a later date. She just returned from a business trip and had quite the evening with you. You two deserve a bit of rest.”

“But what if...”

It’s unlikely, but what if it happens again? What if I spin out of control tonight?

“Keep your temper in check and try to suppress your instinct,” Jinyoung answers matter-of-factly.

So, no sex.

Although the unspoken implication doesn’t come as a surprise, I can’t help but feel disappointed even though Y/N and I agreed on not doing it again so soon. Notwithstanding, it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to do it again this morning. But then there was the pool of blood and the amnesia that ruined our morning bliss.

All the same, flashes of what I do remember from last night replay in my mind.

They say once you’ve had a wolf, you never go back. Maybe because I won’t let you.

She looked beautiful, tears glistening in her eyes, equally as beautiful as her meek whimpers. She’s so small and fragile, easy to overpower.

To conquer.

“Your mind’s…. gutter again, isn’t it?” A groan sounds from somewhere on the side, distant like a faint echo

I was inside her.

In spite of the weird plastic, she felt nice.

Warm.

Wet.

I replay the image of her whimpering on the sheets as I looked down at her over and over. My hand on her cheek and Y/N keeping it in place. I should have used that second to dive down and worship her soft breasts more.

I could have bitten her there. Just a small bite on the side.

The snapping of a pair of fingers before my eyes interrupts the pleasant reverie. A bit offended, I snap around to growl at whoever took the pleasure of a cherished memory away.

 Only to face Jinyoung, who sighs and looks down at the bulge in my pants before pursing his lips with an exasperated knowing expression as he looks up. 

Scrambling to regain my composure and hardly remembering what he said, I answer as best I can. “No!”

“Then why are you drooling?”

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - When you’re a blockhead

This work, 女朋友过于木头真么办, was originally written by  君兮耶君兮 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 🌸

[ VICTOR ]

I really can’t fathom how that dummy manages to manage an entire company.

It’s even more difficult for her to understand my feelings than to produce a satisfactory report.

Even my father and Aunt Grace have bombarded me with questions about whether she’s the girl I like. Anyone can tell, except her.

It’s bad enough that she can’t sense it. But she’s also silly.

Perhaps I should celebrate the fact that there aren’t any competitors. Otherwise...

No. There are competitors. 

-

A friend returned from Italy with beefsteak, and I originally planned to prepare a meal for her to express how my feelings. I even specially picked up her childish ways and cut the beefsteak into a heart shape.

As expected, I shouldn’t have held high expectations for her.

“Victor, I saw a large beefsteak with my own eyes earlier. Why is it so small now?! Did you eat it on the sly!!”

“...idiot.”

[ GAVIN ]

Even though Minor was the reason why she misunderstood my farewell letter in high school as a threat, I do feel a little dejected.

However, the fortunate thing was that I could meet her again in a better state.

I could also have more confidence in courting her.

I thought everything would go smoothly as imagined.

But I didn’t expect that she’d have... such a slow reaction.

Then again, she’s very cute this way.

-

After sending her home as usual, she hesitates for a moment before deciding to speak.

“Gavin, maybe I should go back by myself next time?”

While I don’t wish to see her unhappy, I refuse, slightly shocked.

“You get off work so late, and it isn’t safe.” How could I bear to let the girl I love walk home alone at night?

"But it’s too cold to ride on Sparky.” She rubs her arms, scrunching her face.

To be honest, this reason didn’t occur to me at all.

“...from tomorrow onwards, I’ll drive a car.”

[ LUCIEN ]

My Little Butterfly seems to genuinely think that I have no special feelings for her.

In reality, I've long since anticipated that she’d eventually become my legally recognised partner.

Whether it’s inviting her out for a meal, watching a movie, visiting the library, or heading to the outskirts for a picnic or visiting the orphanage - they’re all invitations stemming from my personal selfishness. 

She doesn’t know how happy I feel when I hear other professors or the kids calling her my girlfriend.

However, she seems to always think that no matter where I bring her, and no matter what we do, they’re all meant for sourcing for program materials.

She truly lacks awareness.

-

“Want to visit the Food Festival in Catalpa Alley this weekend?” The Little Lady has always been interested in delicacies. I believe that if I were to use this excuse, she definitely wouldn’t refuse.

“Sure! Our company is planning to do an episode on the Food Festival.” The Silly Girl smiles jubilantly, and even searches up the Food Festival on the internet for prior research.

She seems to have once again misunderstood me. However, seeing this Little Greedy Cat eating with her cheeks puffed out counts as a reward. 

[ KIRO ]

Miss Chips always treats me as a friend, but I want to be her boyfriend.

I wish to tell the entire world that Miss Chips has been marked by me.

I’ve turned on her notifications, so I can take note of any new updates from her on social media~

I’ve also secretly set my profile picture to match with hers.

I really wish to tell her that even if everyone were to disagree, I’d stand by her side and accompany her in changing the world.

I’ll take the risk of getting scolded, and bring her out to enjoy delicious food behind Savin’s back.

She’s the first person I want to see when I return from business trips, and I never forget to bring her gifts.

Even Apple Box has grown used to her scent. Doesn’t this mean that I’m preparing her to stay in my place?

-

“Miss Chips, I heard that a new shop selling delicious hotpot has opened in New Light Mall. We should give it a try~” “Sounds good~” 

I love eating with Miss Chips the most!!

Wanting to have hotpot is a lie. Wanting to see you is the truth.

[ SHAW ]

Whenever this topic is brought up, I get so enraged that my head hurts. Because of this, I’ve prepared painkillers at home.

Instead of saying that she’s slow, it’s more accurate to say that she’s unable to comprehend things.

Who says that I don’t like her? Even if I don’t say it, can’t she sense it? It’s so obvious.

If I didn’t like her, would I give her the Dragonfly Eye?

If I didn’t like her, would I reserve the VIP seat in Live House for her?

If I didn’t like her, would I merely glare at her when she snatches my Cola?

Such a clear indulgence, yet she can’t figure it out.

What else can I do though? I picked her myself, so I have to accept it.

It’s fine, I’ll just treat it as though I’m restoring an ancient artefact. What I have is patience.

I’m definitely not saying that she’s old.

-

“Hey, come to Live House at 8pm tonight. If you’re late, you’ll face the consequences.

“Shaw!” She’s as lively as always.

“There’s no bargaining. You have to be there punctually at 8pm.”

I’m unwilling to wait even a second longer to see you.

-

More original and translated writings: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the source of the author

[rhysismydaddy]

After Midnight pt. 1 (Feysand)

Synopsis: After a tumultuous, heartbreaking relationship, Feyre Archeron turns to online dating for a break from normalcy. Or rather, to Velaris Nighttime Ventures, the most exclusive, high-dollar escort system around. She needs to ease back in to intimacy, so this seems like the perfect idea. But what happens when her escort turns out to be someone she can’t get out of her head? Someone who seems to understand and appreciate everything about her? 

My many disclaimers: Stole a line in here from The Hating Game. And one from ACOTAR obviously. And the story line is loosely based off of The Kiss Quotient. Basically, I’m a fraud.

__________________________________________________________

~Feyre~

If I told any of my friends I’m about to hire a hooker, they’d laugh themselves silly. 

And, to be honest, the idea is a little ridiculous to me, too. 

I’ve never had a problem getting a date in my life. Brownish blondeish hair, blue-gray eyes, and an athletic build give me slightly above average looks. A lucrative job makes me financially sound and independent. A lifetime with two sisters gave me a sense of humor. 

I’ve dated prom kings, nerds, and everything in between. I’m completely normal. 

Or at least I used to be. 

After everything that happened last year, I don’t know if that’s true anymore. 

My therapist tells me constantly it’s okay that my last relationship changed me. And the multiple degrees on her pretty green wall tell me she knows what she’s talking about and that she’s completely correct. 

Even if... even if it doesn’t feel okay. 

Even if I can hardly stand looking in a mirror or being hugged or someone giving me a compliment. 

Even if I haven’t felt like myself in so long, I don’t even know if I’d recognize it if i did. 

Because while I used to love putting makeup on, choosing a dress, and going out, the thought now fills me with so much dread it makes me nauseous. 

What if I just make the same mistake as last time? 

My sister's told me my whole life to guard my heart, but I always laughed it off and  said she was being cynical. And what do I have to prove it? Trust issues and a standing appointment Dr. Motley. 

Men don’t deserve my trust. At least not right now. 

But... it’s time to move on in the physical sense. 

And since running the risk of taking home the wrong man scares me shitless, I’ll start with someone who can’t reject me, can’t make me feel worthless. 

Someone who won’t develop feelings for me or get attached and demanding. Someone... who won’t mind giving me control. 

A hooker. 

Or escort, like the Velaris Nighttime Ventures website says as I scroll through pages and pages of profiles. 

Gods, this is more stressful than my first gallery opening. 

All the profiles include is a picture, probably-fake name, height, an age, and a simple sentence about them. 

It feels creepily similar to online shopping. And there are so, so many options. How the heck am I going to choose one? 

Scrolling down further, my eyes roam over men of every skin tone, age, and height. I don’t have any real preference, but decide I need to have a few ground rules, otherwise this will take forever. 

Age? I’m twenty-seven and don’t have an interest in being a cougar, so I set the range from twenty-eight to thirty-five. 

Height? At 5′6, I’m not exactly tall, but I’ve always found men who were more attractive, so I shrug and put the minimum at six feet. 

Pressing enter, I watch the website sort, then look at the number of men left. Thirty. Not bad. 

Scrolling through slowly, I realize it’s kind of like a yearbook for an all male college or something.

A college full of really sexy men. 

I pause on a few, but something about them make her keep going. I want the complete opposite of my ex, so any with features like him get eliminated. 

Eventually, I get to the last row, feeling a little dejected. 

But then I see him. 

His eyes seemed to pierce through the screen, and once I see him, I can’t look away. Without another thought, I click on the profile. 

The name under the picture reads Rhysand. No last name, probably for privacy purposes. He’s a few years older than me. And tall--6′3 tall. But that isn’t what draws me closer. It’s the sentence he’d written. 

To the stars that listened -- and the dreams that are answered. 

My fingers ignore the rational part of my brain and click the button to book an appointment, and before I know it, I’m looking at a confirmation page. 

For tonight at midnight. 

Oh gods.

~Rhysand~

After working at the bar for a few hours, I head back to my shitty apartment to get ready for tonight’s appointment. 

Someone has booked me for an “evening of adventure and pleasure” as the confirmation email tells me. 

Wonderful. 

All I know is her name: Feyre. It doesn’t sound like an old-lady name, so there’s that. 

Those are the worst. It feels like fucking someone’s grandmother. Not that I’d know, exactly. And I mean sure, most of my clients are older. But there’s older, and then there’s old. Fine line between the two, let me tell you. 

Most of the people who hire me are in their forties, trapped in miserable marriages, and desperate for a decent lay. They’re also filthy rich, because I’m not cheap in the slightest. 

It’s why I’d agreed to this shit in the first place. 

Yeah, I have to psych myself up and sleep with a random lady, but the pay is killer. And the more money I make, the quicker I can stop. 

So I shower and go through my pre-appointment routine, trying not to think about what’s become of my life. 

There weren’t any special requests on the appointment, but the meet was set for a swanky hotel downtown, so I put on a dark suit and white dress shirt. My hair doesn’t need much work, so I leave, figuring I’ll get there early. 

The drive over’s quick, and soon I’m walking inside and sitting at the bar. She has my picture, but I don’t have a clue what she looks like, so she’ll have to come find me. 

After a few minutes, someone settles next to me, and I turn around with an expectant smile. 

But when I see who it is, I stop. And hating myself more than I thought possible, I tell the woman, “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”

Which really fucking sucks, because she’s beautiful as hell. 

Smooth skin, dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and kiss-me lips kind of beautiful. 

She gives me a strange look, then says words I’d never expect from someone like her. “I’m Feyre. I’m the... client.”

The way she cringes on the word tells me it’s her first time doing something like this, and the thought makes me a little too happy. 

I know I should say something to comfort her, but all I can think is... she’s definitely no grandma. 

~Feyre~

He keeps staring at me for a few more moments, then smiles and says, “Sorry. You’re not what I was expecting.”

I nod, then realize I have no idea what to say. Or do. Fuck, this is weird. “Do you want a drink?”

Rhysand shakes his head, then says, “Feel free, though.”

That’s the first good idea I’ve heard all day. After ordering from the bartender, I turn to the man next to me and smile sheepishly. “I don’t really know how this works. It’s my first time with... this.”

“I figured.” He’s turned toward me, one arm braced on the bar. “You can have your drink, and we’ll go upstairs when you’re ready.”

A nervous laugh ebbs out of me, and I blush. “Okay.”

Gods, am I really going through with this? 

I mean sure, he’s hotter than all hell, but he’s a prostitute. 

Would you rather invite a random man home with you? the bitch that lives in my brain asks with a knowing smile. 

I ignore her as a drink’s set in front of me, finding it helps a little. The man next to me just watches, face a mixture of confusion and amusement. 

Somehow, the photo didn’t do him justice. He’s ridiculously attractive, with dark hair, almost violet eyes, and tan skin. There’s a hint of stubble on his strong jaw, surrounding the sensual mouth that’s currently smirking at me. 

I’m definitely attracted to him, but this is still weird. 

“So, why are you doing this?” he asks as I drink. “If you don’t mind.”

I’m sure as hell not telling him the truth, so I say, "I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

Rhysand smiles, and it only makes him more attractive. “Fair point.”

Then he looks me up and down, raises his dark brows, and asks, “Ready?”

Not in the fucking slightest. “Sure.”

By the time we reach the elevator, I’m practically shaking. Telling myself that I can do this--that it’s what I want, for gods sake--doesn’t really help. But I don’t say a word as we glide up, then walk to the room I’ve rented for tonight. 

When we get inside, I avoid looking at the bed as I turn to him. 

Rhysand smoothly takes off his suit jacket, then leans against the wall and crosses his ankles. “You seem nervous.”

He certainly doesn’t. Every move he makes is smooth and easy, like he’s so comfortable in his body he doesn’t ever get nervous or self-conscious. 

Must be nice. 

“I do?” It’s a deflection, and we both know it. 

“You’re shaking like a wet dog.” My nose wrinkles at the analogy, and he grins. “A very cute wet dog.”

I told myself I’d be alright, but now that I’m alone with him, I realize I’ve told absolutely no one where I am tonight. And if things go wrong... I start pacing. “I’m, uh... it’s just... nothing. Let’s do this thing.”

I should write sonnets. 

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t say a word as he walks to sit on the edge of the bed. Feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, I sit next to him. 

“Why don’t we just take things slow?” 

Thank the gods. I nod. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, using manners I definitely hadn’t expected but much appreciate. 

I nod again, trying to keep my hands from shaking. 

Rhysand raises a hand, but I swallow and push down the flare of panic as he cups my jaw and tilts my face to his. Then he leans in--keeping his word and going very slowly--and I brace myself as his lips brush against mine.

My body doesn’t exactly know how to feel when they touch. On the one hand, a very handsome man is kissing me. On the other... a man is kissing me. 

I ignore the second thought and kiss him back. 

His lips are silky soft against mine, slowly urging them open, and then his tongue is in my mouth, caressing mine. Everything’s slow and sensual and practiced. 

And even though it’s a picture-perfect moment, it feels like that scene in the movie where the dumb blonde goes down the dark hallway while the entire theater screams at her to run. 

Oh gods oh gods oh gods. 

My brain’s playing me a repeat of the last year on fast forward, and I press my eyes closed to try and block it out. 

I’m fine. 

Rhysand leans into me, and then I’m on my back with him hovering above me, still kissing me. His surprisingly muscled frame is heavy against me, pressing me down into the soft sheets, and his elbows are by my head.

Nothing’s wrong. 

Everything’s wrong. 

I take a quick moment to remind myself that if this had happened a year ago, I’d probably have wrapped myself around him and let him do whatever he wanted. 

But the past twelve months weren’t just a bad dream. And the band-aid protecting the stupid, naive girl I used to be from the harsh realities of the world has been ripped off and torn to bits. 

And suddenly, I can’t breathe. 

His head snaps up immediately, and violet eyes gaze down at me, full of concern. A weak hand comes up to press against his chest, and he sits up immediately. “Feyre? Are you okay?”

I shake my head and practically roll off the bed onto the floor. It’s completely undignified, but I don’t care. My lungs are on fire, my throat tight with the tears I’m barely holding back. 

I have to get away from him; I have to get some space. 

My back hits the wall, and I curl into myself, pressing my forehead against my knees. 

Breathe, Feyre, breathe. 

The silence in the room is broken only by my gasps, and I focus on the sound, letting it remind me that I’m here, that I made it out. 

I don’t let myself think about the other person in the room. It’s just me, and I’m fine. I made it out. 

There’s scratchy carpet under my legs, a wall behind my back, and more than enough air in the room. 

Eventually, my brain catches up with the obvious, allowing oxygen to fill my chest. I’m gulping down breath after breath until my heart rate finally starts slowing down, and it’s only when my head stops feeling fuzzy do I open my eyes. 

Rhysand sits on the bed, beautiful eyes wide, watching me. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. Gods, he’s probably uncomfortable beyond belief. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, cutting him off and shaking my head. I know I should get off the floor, but my legs feel like jello, and I don’t want to crawl around again. “I, um...”

The words to explain the panic don’t come easy, but he stays silent, giving me time. 

And because I’m a coward who still can’t admit what happened to me, I repeat the words my therapist suggested I try. 

“I have problems with intimacy.” It’s hardly a whisper, but I know he hears it. “And, um... I thought it would be easier with someone like you.” I flinch at my own words and try to make it sound less offensive. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay, Feyre. I understand.”

Tears burn the edges of my eyes, but I force them down and steady my voice. “You can go. There’s money on the desk.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you like this. Unless I’m the reason.”

“No, it’s not you,” I assure him. “You’re great. I just have a hard time relaxing with- I mean around-”

“Men,” he finishes quietly. 

And even though I didn’t tell him, he looks like he can read the words off my face. Rhysand doesn’t say another word, but his eyes are understanding and calm. 

He extends a hand, the silent invitation clear, and for some reason, it makes me smile as I slowly get to my feet, using the wall to support me.

Walking over, he takes my hand in is, and I notice how rough his palms are. Before I can wonder what he does to get such big callouses, he takes my other hand and places them on his shoulders. 

“You’re in control. There are no expectations with me.” The words wash over me, settling in, and my heart slows down a bit. “If you want to kiss and call it a night, we can. It’s up to you.”

For some reason, hearing that he doesn’t care helps. It’s the reason why I chose this, I guess. I’m the client, and I’m in control. 

Finally feeling calm, I slowly run my hands over his shoulders, down his arms. He’s heavily muscled, but it’s smooth and lean, not bulky. From a physical life, not from hours spent in a gym.

I can see the faint lines of tattoos beneath the shirt, but I don’t move to unbutton it. 

His eyes stay on me, and I meet them as my hands drift to his face. The stubble I’d noticed earlier is rough against my fingers as I trace his jaw, then the strong slope of his eyebrows. 

It’s been a year since I touched a man. Longer since I did so this... leisurely. 

My hands find their way into his dark hair, and I smile at how soft it is. His head tilts back a little and his eyes drift close. I don’t know if he’s putting on a show or actually enjoying this, but he seems calm at least. 

And I think... I think this could work. 

Working on my intimacy issues with him could help fix me, maybe even get me ready for a real relationship. 

So I lean in slowly and press my mouth to his. 

Like he said, I’m in control. While earlier had felt like being kissed, this feels like kissing. I move my mouth slowly over his, tracing the curve of his lower lip softly. 

He really is a beautiful man. 

And patient, too. He’s extremely patient while I take my time learning the shape of his mouth, then the angle of his jaw. He stays still, eyes closed, letting me explore. 

I slowly drift back to his mouth, and when he eases his lips open, I meet his tongue with mine. It’s slow and light and just enough to make me want more. 

My breath comes shorter, but it isn’t in panic.

Taking his hands from the bed beside him, I place them on my hips. His fingers flex, but they stay exactly where I put them, even as I wrap my arms around his neck and press a little closer to him. 

We’re still just kissing, but I feel it in my entire body, all the way to my toes. 

I pull back and take a deep breath, not knowing how to put what I want into words without embarrassing myself. Bright violet eyes meet mine as Rhysand runs his tongue across his lower lip. “Just say it.”

How can he read my face so well after just an hour of knowing me? 

“Lean back,” I say, my face warm with a blush. “But don’t turn us over. I can’t... I feel trapped.”

Rhysand just nods, gripping my hips tighter, then lays down with me on top of him. My chest is against his, my legs resting in between his. It’s the closest I’ve been to someone in a long time, and I wait for the panic to set in, but none comes. 

“You okay?”

A small part of me wishes he wouldn’t be so damn understanding and nice. It’s making me feel so incredibly stupid, even as it warms my heart. 

I nod, then put my head down against his chest. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why?”

Looking back up, I meet his eyes hesitantly. “You’re probably so weirded out by me. Paying you just to come make out like teenagers.”

He smiles, and it makes some of the nerves untangle. “Silly woman. I could kiss you all night. You have the most delicious mouth.” He leans in and kisses me, as if to prove it, then makes a deep humming sound. 

“That’s absurd,” I mutter, even though I feel a lot less anxious now. 

Rhysand shakes his head, then says, “You taste like fucking candy.” His arms loosely wrap around my waist. “Tilt your head to the side and I’ll prove it.”

I do, and his mouth meets my neck, slowly but in a way that makes it feel like I’m being devoured. Tingles shoot down my body as he sweeps my hair off my neck to get better access, and a soft moan escapes me as he sucks on the spot between my shoulder and neck. 

He pulls away enough to say, “You have a really sexy moan, too.”

My face goes scarlet, and he grins up at me, then we’re kissing again. Gods, the man can kiss. He’s letting me control everything, but it’s obvious he’s good at what he does.

Even though I’m almost delirious with lust--something I haven’t felt in a long, long time--I know this is enough for tonight. I’ve already had one panic attack, and I don’t want to push myself too hard. 

So I pull back and tell him, “You can go. I don’t think... this is good for tonight, I think.”

“I feel like you’re not getting your money’s worth if I leave now,” he says, and if I could’ve sworn I hear a hint of sadness in his tone.

I shrug, not telling him the money for tonight was nothing to worry about. Instead, I just slide off him and stand up, straightening my shirt. “It’s was more than okay. Seriously. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Rhysand rises fluidly and grabs his jacket, then turns to me. Before he can speak, I say, “I actually wanted to talk to you about another appointment.”

After an awkward pause, he says quietly, “I don’t really do... repeats.”

“Oh.” There’s no way to hide the disappointment in my voice. 

I’d thought that I’d be able to work with him slowly. Build on what we did tonight. The thought of having to find a different man and explain why I’m so emotionally stunted... shit. 

What if I freak out again, in front of someone new?

Gods, no wonder he doesn’t want to come back. He’s already had to deal with an hour of my trauma. Who would ever sign up to do it again? I’m damaged goods.

“It’s not you, I promise. I’ve just had a few clients get sort of... attached. So I made a policy to not meet with women more than once.” He sounds nice and apologetic, and it grates my nerves a little. 

Rejection is rejection no matter how you look at it. 

And no matter how fucked up I am, I don’t need anyone’s pity.

But, like a big girl, I smile and nod. “I get it. It’s fine. I’ll find someone else. Your money is on the table.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Find someone else? What do you mean?”

My eyebrows fly up at how shocked he sounds. He just saw firsthand how not okay I am, and he’s surprised? 

“I mean that I’ll find someone else. I have intimacy issues, and I need to work on them. I understand completely that you’re uncomfortable with that, and I’ll find someone who isn’t.”

There’s a flicker in his jaw. “And you’re planning on using the website for this someone?”

“It’s really none of your concern.”

“Feyre, there are some not so great people on there. You shouldn’t use-”

My patience snaps. “You have absolutely no right to lecture me. You don’t want the job, I will find someone else, since it’s such a goddamn burden. Now thank you very much for tonight, but you’re community service is done. You can go.”

There are too many emotions on his face to process them all, but I definitely register shock. 

“I promise it isn’t about you, okay? You’re great. Hell, I’d want to sleep with you even if I wasn’t getting paid. But I have a policy, and-”

“Like I said, I understand. You can go now.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t use the site to find another guy.”

There’s something about the command in his voice that grabs every last thread I’m hanging by and rips them free. I march over to him and jab a finger into his chest. “Do not tell me what to do. Ever.”

Rhysand eyes narrow, but it isn’t in anger. It’s like he’s looking at a puzzle, and he just figured out the piece he’d thought would fit won’t. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

I remove the finger-gun from his chest, but he doesn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he catches me completely off guard by saying, “I’ll do four more appointments.”

Rolling my eyes comes a little to easy. “Don’t do me any favors. I’m not your goddamn charity case.”

“No, because if you were, you’d probably be a little grateful.” Whatever retort I had planned dies in my throat. “But it’s not pity. I don’t want you getting hurt by some other guy from the site.”

There’s enough genuine concern in his voice for me to believe him. And the last thing I want is to put myself in danger. 

But I still ask if he’s serious, because to be honest, it sounds perfect. 

If I can fix myself in six appointments. 

That’s a pretty big if. 

“Yes, seriously. But I’m going to charge you more, and we can only meet here.”

I shrug because I sure as hell wasn’t about to invite him to my place. And unless he’s planning on charging enough to buy a house, it should be fine. “Okay.”

He glances at me, then down at himself, like he’s suddenly aware he’s still standing here. “Okay.”

And just like that, I’ve hired a hooker. 

____________________________________________________

Part 2 is here because I have no self-control. Let me know in the comments/my box if you want to be tagged :)

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[poison--ivory]

Uninviting Cataclysm (Alastor x Reader) Chapter 2

June 16, 1915 (Monday)

 Ten days have gone by since the radio man has offered me a job here at his studio. I still can't shake the chill of his touch. I heard rumors he could use voodoo because of his creole background, but I didn't want to judge too quickly.

____________________________________________

"You want me to work for you. But, why?"

"Of course! You look perfect for the job, darling.” His grin widen to surprising width. Pearly white teeth glistening from the light radiating off them.

"What can I possibly do that might help you?" Cocking your head to the left. Eyes drifting from his gazed. Not daring to meet his eyes.

Snapping his fingers your brain compelled you to look up at his eyes. Looking pleased he folded his hand on top of the other. "You'll do menial work like organizing files, coffee runs, rereading my manuscript before each show and working for me until I say otherwise."

Eyes still fixated on him you tried to pry them off, but like a mouse being hypnotized by a snake. You felt as though you were compelled to keep your eyes up or he'll swallow you whole.

"Will it pay well?" Your voice sounded faded and small. But, your surprised he heard you.

"Why my dear, of course I'll pay you generously." Rolling his eyes and they drifted off for bit before shooting back on you. You straighten your back and inhaled sharply. Throat getting dryer each second he looks at you. The air felt like it got thicker and heavier, you felt like you were drowning. "So, darling do we have a deal." His arm stretched out in front of his body and again your body moved by itself. Taking his hand with yours and gave it a good couple of shakes. A sharp jolt shot up your arm.

You could of sworn you saw a green light emitting from his hand trailing slowly to my hand. My body felt like it was on fire heating up with each passing second. Then, as soon as it stared it went away leaving a loitering coolness behind. It all ended with the waitress nearly slamming the plate down in front of me and gently placing Alastor's right in front him. He thanked her and she walked off giggling with a huge array of red on her cheeks.

Body shaking slightly you tried picking up your fork. His gaze was still on you waiting for you try yours first.

'What the fuck was that?"

_____________________________________________

 Ever since then I tried to keep my distance from him outside of work, but he insisted he should drive me home each night. Because of the killings going on and that a lady should be accompanied home by a fine gentleman like himself. Reasoning with him was out of the question. I told him no before and his face made me regret even thinking about turning down his offers. What made it even more terrifying he kept that sickening smile on the whole time. I still have the bruise from when he pinned me to the wall. I hide it from my family I haven't really been speaking to them for a couple of days now. They have their own problems and what use do I have to burden them with my own situation.

Thinking about it Mimzy's always looked happy to talk to Alastor without hesitation. From what I know she really idolizes him.

'I wonder if Mimzy's treated like this. If she was she doesn't really act scared.'

 The light that read 'air' went off and a sense of dread flew throughout your body. Before getting up he always fixed his hair and loosened his bow tie. Smiling he walked out the studio with a pep to his step. Making eye contact you managed a smile on your lips before he pulled you towards him and gave your body a small twirl.

"Can you please take me home, Al. I'm quiet tired." You weren't lying it was a long night shift and with the gruesome story telling of another murder. You just wanted the day to end so you could sleep in your lovely bed.

"Oh, did I not tell you dear." He tilted his head and that smiled stretched . "I'm taking you out for a night on the town." The excitement in his voice was kind of sickening.

"B-but I-" was interrupted by him dragging me along with him down the hall and waiting upon the arriving elevator. Looking up to speak with him again you noted the look on his features and decided not to question anymore. Stepping into the elevator you both made it downstairs and straight into the lobby. The old lady at the front waved us both a good night, she herself already getting ready to leave and retire for the night.

 Alastor's car was waiting outside like usual and he finally took his hold off of me to open the passenger door. Thanking him you sat yourself in and leaned more to the window when Al got on the driver side. Smirking he pulled off in the opposite direction of my neighborhood. Even though your already out you still feel like you should call home and tell them your gonna be out for I hope a short while.

Passing by fancy light up signs and all sorts of folk walking around from building to building. A couple of bands were setting up their instruments into backs of cars. Groups of friends making good memories of their youth by drinking it away with silly juice.

"Where are we going this late?" You know people party after this hour, but you never really expected him to be a party type. Well maybe his attitude changed after a couple of drinks or can he hold his liquor. I guess you were going to see another side of him this night.

"Our dear, Mimzy's is singing at a local bar tonight and she wanted me to invite you as well." Looking at me from the corner of his eyes, then trailing them back to the road in front. "She never really opens up to most of my dame friends. I guess she's taking a liking to you."

"She's sounds pretty protective." To be completely honest with yourself you've never been in lady drama before. So, you couldn't tell if she liked him as a brother or a man. The glares from now and again would tip you off, but her inviting you to her show sound friendlier than her usual self when she's around you. Though for all you know Al brought you up in conversation and she got the idea from him.

"She does cares a great deal for me, she's one of the few of my close friends." He gave a short chuckle, which sounded more of rumble that came from his chest.

"How long are we going to out for, because I don't wanna worry my family."  Messing with your small fingers, you kept you gaze lowered afraid of being put under that overwhelming fear again.

 Instead answering he laughed and gave the steering wheel a firmer grip. "All you do is ask questions, darling." An arm reached out and cupped my cheek with his gloved hand. "No need to worry that pretty little head. Time does fly by when your having fun."

 He gave my cheek a small tap and slowly withdrew his hands. Not before dragging it across my neck at a snails pace. Then, placed it back on the wheel.

_____________________________________________

"Here we are my dear." The place looked like any other bar. This doesn't look like the sort of place for someone like Mimzy to sing her songs.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Squinting you couldn't find the appeal of taking any business here.

"Don't judge a book by it appearance, my dear. It's what's on the inside that counts." He was right next to your ear, hot breath on the shell of your ear. Making you jerk to the side holding your right ear in protection. Before you could protest he entangled his arm with yours and pulled you towards the run down building.

 The place was nearly empty besides the drunken gents at the bar and the few in small booths. Alastor lead me to back where a single man stood pressed against the door. He made eye contact with Al and stuck his hand out for him to shake. Smirking he met his grip and they both started a weird and complex handshake. The man groaned and stepped to the side.

"Play nice, Al." He shot him side glare. "I Don't wanna clean another room."

"Oh, don't you worry my friend. I have a doll tonight, why would I cause trouble." With a narrowed eyed smile to his face and jester me inside. If I couldn't hear music before I can clearly hear it now. All sorts of instruments playing. Smiling I bobbed my head to a certain beat matching with anyone of the instruments. The grip that was on my arm was gone and replaced on my waist by the tall gent. He was smirking down at me, then looked back in front of himself leading us down, deeper until the music was blaring into my ear canals.

'So this what a real club looks like. So nice besides the drunk people.'

Alastor lead me deeper into the crowd passing people who seem to moved out the way for Al and he sat me down at the bar.

 Bopping my nose he turned the seat around to face the man serving the drinks at this bar. "This fine man here is, Husker. He serves refreshments at this fine establishment." Looking up at the man he looked like he never got a wick of sleep with rough, black stubble on his face. Combed back black hair and even though he looked around Al's age (20), he looks like he doesn't take the best care for himself and looks about twenty-nine going into the mid thirty area. "She's the one I've been talking about lately." His full attention's on the male now who only nodded and continued cleaning shot glasses.

"Shouldn't you be gettin' ready." His gruff voice sent delightful shivers down your spine.

"Oh, why yes! I nearly forgot!" Detaching his arm from my waist he turn towards the crowd.

Al's gaze reached out across the tables and he stopped on on particular person. "Husker my dear friend. Do you mind watching over this little doe for me." He fixed his bow tie and fluffed his hair. "I have something I need to do before show time."

 Before I knew it he disappeared into the mass of people and went to the lower platform. Looking back at Husker you only managed a small wave, and tried to make eye contact. Finding his eyes more easier to fall upon.

"So, you want anything to drink?" His gruff voice hardly reached your ears, but you still made some words.

"Anything without alcohol or water, please." Smiling you tried to make good first impressions. He reached behind the counter to fill you glass with seltzer water. Sliding the medium sized cup towards you. Nodding your head in thanks you took a small sip. Little bubbles splashed your upper lip and unladylike of you wiped it off with the back of your hand.

"So, how long have you known Alastor. I only know him for ten days." Taking another gulp of seltzer.

"Eh, a few years." He gave a guy his stiff drink before turning attention back onto me. "He's been talking about ya non stop and it's fucking annoying."

 I really don't see what's so interesting about me to talk to his friends about. "Oh, really. What about? I hope it's good things." Actually curious you leaned forward. From the way he treats you expect him to tell them that your doormat and easy to walk on.

"Fucking weirdo talks about courtin' ya and told him your just gonna scare the lass off." Your whole body froze. "Don't know if he actually doing it though. Is he?"

 Courting. You've never been courted before, maybe the occasional flirt from guy friends and wolf whistles from men walking down the street. But, letting someone become a candidate for marriage. To actual know that someone thought about you in that light made you feel special. No one wanted you in that way, to flirt or fuck yes, but you never gave into those whims. Most guys white or black didn't like your skin tone, but loved your body. A lot of women hated your body and skin tone they always mentioned it when talking behind your back.

"You don look black or white."

Your just the spectrum floating in between.

"So, you know how to play cards." Changing the subject entirely and pulling out his deck of cards.

"No, but my papa plays some poker with his friends. I always wanted to learn." He started shuffling the deck a smirk started to form across his face.

"I can see why he likes ya now." Sliding out cards like it was second nature and collected his bunch. "Ya gonna pick up your cards, so I can teach ya or what?"

 Quickly snatching up the cards you let Husk take the reigns. He taught you has much of his tricks he knows and the rules.

_____________________________________________

  Jolting out of thought Husker motioned towards the stage. Stacking the deck back into its rightful compartment. He put his pointer finger to his lips to tell me to keep quiet. Looking at the stage, Alastor stood front and center. People's attention solely on one man. Tapping his microphone he announced himself loud and proud, no mistakes.

 "Now let me introduce you to the one all of you love to hear. Who most of you are present to hear. Her voice could leave anyone entranced. Here we have Mimzy's the Miracle!"

 The audience clapping and shouting for Mimzy to come out. Deciding to join in on the fun you started clapping louder. Before, you knew it she stepped out on stage and some collared men whistled. Alastor stepped off stage, you couldn't really see from this angle where he was at.

(Using a song not of this period)

You had plenty money 1902

You let other women make a

Fool of you

Why don't you do right,

Like some other men do?

Get out of here and

Get me some money too

Your sitting here won drink

What it's all about

You ain't got no money

They will put you out

Why don't you do right,

Like some other men do?

Get out of here and

Get me some money too

If you had prepared

Twenty years ago

You would be a-wander'

From door to door

Why don't you do right,

Like some other men do?

Get out of here and

Get me some money too

Oooh oh ah

Why don't you do right,

Like some other men do?

Oooh ahhoh ah

 Claps ensued after even louder than the music from earlier. The grin on my face grew and my chest felt so, light and warm. I didn't even notice Alastor sitting next to me until he rested his arm around my waist pulling himself close to frame. Smiling up at him my heart skipped a beat just looking at his face.

 Thinking about the conversation from early with Husk my face heated up faster than a bullet cutting through air.

  While Mimzy was getting ready for another song. I looked up at Alastor who was already smiling done at me. My heart started pacing, no one has ever deemed you worthy for courting.

  Why are feeling this way now, you didn't like him a few hours ago and now you feel like throwing up rainbows.

 "What's on your mind, my darling (y/n)." The smirk on his face looks more appealing now. It's making your heart flutter. "Did you and Husker get along liked I hoped."

"Yes, we did, but he told me something that made me question your intentions with me." His smile faltered and he tensed up for just a few, short minutes. "Is it true you wanted to court me, Al."

 Staring directly at him, you witness his face go into freeze mode with a few blinks here and there.

 Bringing your hand up to touch him your wrist was caught within his hand. He squeezed your wrist with such constriction that you felt you whole hand go numb.

"My dear, what do you think this evening was for. Introducing you to my few friends is just the first steps of my courting ritual." His arm still around my waist he started dragging me out the club.

 Before, leaving you look behind to wave Husk off, surprised to get one back in return. Maybe you can be friends with these people after all.

Once you left out of earshot Husk groaned to himself and pulled on his face to relieve some stress.

"She should of stayed away from the bastard."

_____________________________________________

Stepping outside you realized how warm the club's inside was. The cool air making chills go up your spine. But, like this whole night Al pulled you over to his car.

 Opening the car door for you and, then situated himself in. Sitting in silence for a minute or two. He leaned over the into the passenger seat and gave the outside of your lips a kiss. A squeak of surprise exerted from your throat. Smirking to himself about the dumbfounded look on your face he went in to give your lips a kiss. Eyes still wide you tried to get into a more comfortable head tilt, before you finally found it.

 Smiling into the kiss you can feel his hand caressing your face. His lips feel dry and chapped, but you don't mind. This is probably the most intimate time you'll ever have with a man.

I just didn't know about the monster that was awaiting around the corner.

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 10

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art (so much Art...)

This chapter brought to you in part by Morgana; Also, every additional part. She’s demanded to be co-director. There’s no way to say “No”. I’m sorry.

I was GOING to wait until tomorrow to post this. But I just finished the cliff hanger at the next chapter, and... just... really wanted to post this part.

I’m thinking that... it might end up being a 12 parter... I’m not sure if there’s anything more than part 12. I’ll know by the time I post part 11, and I’ll let you guys know. The end is in sight, and I do hope that’s ok with everyone... But buckle in. It won’t be an easy ride.

Check out my MasterList above for more stories. Want your own, or some art? DM me for details! Check out the #Royal Flush for more notes/art/blurbs about these two bumbling fools.

“Excuse me…umm, sir goblin.”

A momentary pause, followed by a polite if hesitant; “Yes, My Lady?”

“I beg your pardon, but you are the King, yes?”

My heart skipped like a smooth stone across still waters. I eased down the last few steps, walking lightly to stand at the corner. Peering around it. Grier stood with his back to me, and Morgana before him with her hands on her hips. She wasn’t much shorter than him, but still had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. I started to round the corner, eager to tell both of them the good news and pleased they were in the same place. But curiosity stilled my feet, something about the determination set into her youthful face, and I lingered momentarily. Not quite hidden… that wouldn’t be very Princely. But they would have to look particularly hard to make me out behind the marble pillars...

“That I am.” I could hear the tiny smile in Grier’s voice. “... Can I be of service?”

“I demand an audience then, Your Majesty.” I almost groaned at her abruptness, and studied her little face for a moment. Intelligent and fierce…. I couldn’t deny it warmed my heart.

Grier hesitated again, but then offered her a small bow. “But of course, Princess. I am at your service… Shall we sit?”

“You know who I am?” She sounded a little surprised, causing her to lose focus momentarily as she followed him to the benches lining the courtyard with a skipping step. I paced a few feet closer. From this angle I could make out both their faces from the side, as long as they were looking forward. But only Morgana’s when they looked at each other.

“Yes… Your brother speaks of you all the time.”

I saw her bottom little lip come out into that stubborn pout of hers. “You mean to say Prince Nikostratus, Your Majesty.” She corrected him, tossing her head slightly so that her soft cloud of curls bounced around her. “You must be more specific. I have two brothers, you know.”

“Yes, forgive me, Princess. I do mean Nikostratus.” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Prince Nikostratus.” She corrected again. “You should always use titles, Your Majesty.”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. “Should I? I’ve never much cared for them.”

I saw another flash of surprise on her face. “... Goblins don’t have titles?”

“We have them.” He replied. “But I think they sound silly to say every time you speak to someone. Takes a lot of extra time that could be spent doing something more fun.”

She thought that over for a second. “... Oh... “ She tilted her head to the side. “I didn’t know Kings liked to have fun... So… What do I call you?”

He chuckled. “I most certainly do, at least. And Grier is fine.” His head tilted to the side. “That is my name, after all. Not ‘King’. Not ‘Your Majesty’.” The goblin looked briefly around the courtyard while she chewed that thought over. Then turned back to her. “And what may I call you?” 

“I am Princess Morgana Delarosa Marie of Geriveria.” She declared, sounding a little proud and puffing up her tiny chest. But then she hesitated, looking up at him thoughtfully. “... But you can call me Morgana, I suppose.”

“Alright then, Morgana,” He replied, and I could hear that his smile had returned to his lips, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“...Your teeth are all pointy.”

“This is true.”

“Are all goblin teeth pointy?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Do you bite your tongue a lot? Is it hard to chew?” I could hear the curiosity in her voice building. It made me smile.

“Not more often than you might, I would suppose. And no, I can chew quite well. I rather find I enjoy eating.” He cocked his head to the side, amusement lacing his voice. “Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

“No…” She glanced down at her feet, kicking them back and forth for a moment where they dangled off the edge of the bench. “... You’re supposed to marry Niko… right?”

I felt myself stiffen, and my breath caught in my throat as I saw Grier’s head bob slightly in a small nod. “If he’ll have me, yes… Is that alright with you?”

A sudden scowl formed on her lips, and she crossed her little arms over her chest. “No. It’s not.”

I almost broke from my hiding spot at her words. But to my surprise, Grier bowed his head, placing one hand lightly over his heart.

“Forgive me. I am sorry to hear that.” He raised his head slightly. “May I ask why?”

Her scowl deepened. “Because he’s my brother. And I don’t know you! How do I know if he’ll like you? How do I know you’re not going to be mean to him?”

“Well, that is a very good point.” He mused, nodding slightly. “Perhaps if you knew me better, I might be able to earn your permission to marry him. Yes?”

She seemed to think that over for a moment. “... Yeah. That makes sense.”

“What would you like to ask first then, Princess?”

“... I can ask you questions? You don’t mind?”

“Of course! How else do you get to know someone?”

She didn’t even think about that for more than a moment. “You watch them. You listen to what they say, especially if it's not to you, and how they act. You see how they treat people who can’t give them anything.”

“That’s… very astute of you.” Grier sounded surprised.

“A tute?”

“Oh… Astute.” He cleared his throat, chuckling lightly.  “It means… wise. Observant.”

She shuffled her skirts, tilting her head to the side. “You can’t ask questions at court.” Her voice had a practiced patience to it, as if she were the one speaking to a child, and not the other way around. “You can’t say what you’re thinking. People are... mean about it.” Morgana looked up at him through her lashes. “I’m not ever allowed to speak; father says because I’m a Princess… And Val says because I’m still a little girl... But Niko taught me how to learn about people, even if you can’t talk to them.” She kicked her feet back and forth. “Niko says that I should always ask questions. Even if I’m told not to ask them out loud.” She smiled. “He says that if you have a question, you should find the answer, especially if you aren’t allowed to ask the question. He says it must be important, otherwise you wouldn’t have the question in the first place!”

There was silence for a moment, and I wondered what Grier’s face looked like. I could picture it, in my mind’s eye. Long pointed nose, heavy brow. Scarlet eyes and thin lips. But I couldn’t tell what shape his sharp features were forming. No matter how much I stared at the back of his head.

“Then your brother is… very wise.” His voice sounded warm, and my heart fluttered.

“Very a-tute?”

Grier snorted, amused. “Yes, a very astute Prince… But you can ask me questions if you want to. I promise I’ll answer them.”

I heard her soft ‘hmmm’ and almost smiled, leaning against the marble pillar as I listened quietly. I felt a little guilty, not announcing myself. Overhearing such a private conversation. But my curiosity was just too great to resist.

“Do goblins eat people?”

Grier laughed loudly at that. “Of course not! Who told you they did?”

She shrugged her little shoulders. “My old nanny told me that once. But Niko didn’t like her much. I think he dismissed her, but he won’t tell me.” She looked back at Grier. “Do you live in a castle? Will Niko have to live with you?”

He nodded. “I do live in a castle, built into the side of a mountain. And yes… I would very much like for Nikostratus to live with me.”

“Do you have any children?”

“No, I do not.”

“How about sisters? Or brothers?” He shook his head. “If you’re King, does that mean your parents are dead? My father’s parents are dead, and the court says Val won’t be King until my father dies too.”

I would have groaned had I not been making such an effort to remain unseen. Grier gave a quiet chuckle. “My father passed away when I was little, but my mother is still alive.”

“She is?” Her voice sounded curious again, then she fell quiet for a moment. “... My mother died when I was a baby.”

“I am sorry. That must be hard.”

She shrugged again. “I don’t remember her. And Niko doesn’t talk about her much… I think she makes him sad. But I don’t know why.”

“Sometimes, when you love someone, even though they make you happy, not being able to see them makes you sad.” He explained softly. “Sometimes we don’t want to talk about them, because we don’t want to be reminded that we miss them.”

Morgana nodded, kicking her legs again. “... Not seeing Niko makes me sad…” She mumbled quietly, and I felt my heart stop a little at her words. “... I don’t want him to move away forever.”

“I don’t want to take him away from you… But…” He hesitated, and I saw her glance back up at him. “... Being away from him makes me sad too.”

She thought about that. “Does that mean you love him?”

“Yes, I do.” I flushed hot at his words, at his confidence, and shifted restlessly. “... Do you think maybe we can share him?”

“Hmmm.” She looked at him out the side of her eyes. “... Do you like to read?”

He nodded. “Yes. I like to read stories and epic sagas.” He grinned. “If I can sit still long enough to finish them.”

A small smile flicked over her lips briefly. “I like to read too… Do you like to fight? What weapon do you use?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I like to fight, but I can hold my own.” He replied, leaning back on his hands. “And I like to fight with a rapier. What about you?”

“Father says Princesses shouldn’t be fighting. Princesses should be learning to dance and play instruments and other fine things.” She said, as if reciting from a book. Then she leaned closer conspiratorially. “But Niko taught me to wrestle. And Val is showing me how to use a bow.” She told him in a low whisper.

He chuckled. “Very wise of your brothers. Everyone should be allowed to learn about whatever they want. No matter if they are Princes, or Princesses... Or goblins.” She giggled, smiling up at him. “What else do you like to do?”

“I like to explore. I know every corner of this castle! And I like to climb.” She told him excitedly. “I know how to climb down from my bedroom window and over the castle wall without anyone seeing me!” She stopped suddenly, and hesitated, as if worried he would scold her.

“Well now,” He exclaimed, smirking, and her smile returned, “That is quite mischievous. Are you certain you are not a goblin?” She giggled again. “You would fit right in.”

“... What do goblins like to do for fun?”

He shrugged slightly. “It depends on the goblin, I suppose, just like it depends on the human you ask.”

“What about you, then?”

“I like to talk.” She grinned at him, and I could hear the smile in his voice and imagined he must be making a silly expression based upon the way her eyes lit up. “I like meeting new people. I like holding grand parties and learning about new places. I like to collect exotic and colorful things.”

“Have you been many places?” Her curiosity had completely flooded her face and voice now, and she leaned towards him eagerly.

“A fair few. I can tell you about them sometime, if you’d like.” He returned, then I saw his wild hair shift as he cocked his head to one side. “So? How am I doing?” She shifted, pursing her little lips again as if she just remembered she was supposed to be scowling. “... Do you think I might be good enough for your brother?”

Morgana thought about that for a second, tapping the bench with her fingertips. “I don’t know… Niko doesn’t really like any of those things.” She grinned. “He hates meeting new people.”

Grier laughed again. “I have seen that… Well, you’ve known him longer than me. What does he like?”

Her smile returned. “He likes to read, like me. He hides in the library when he wants to be alone. I think he likes it when it’s quiet, but he never seems to mind when I’m there too.” She seemed to bounce in her seat, getting more excited with every word. “And he likes riding, and fighting. The generals all hate him because he can beat them all up. He also likes playing chess. He always beats me at chess.” She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “I don’t know if he likes to, but I like when he hums. He knows a lot of songs.”

“Does he now?” I didn’t like the conspiratorial tone he took, and felt a cold wave wash through me as I wondered how the goblin might use that particular tidbit against me. “I hope I get to hear that someday.”

“He only does it when he thinks he’s alone.” She told him. “When he’s happy, and sometimes when he’s trying to do something very difficult.” Her smile nearly ate up her face. “He says it helps him think sometimes.”

“Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a more sound logic.” His amusement had my face growing hot. I thought about slipping away then. Maybe going around the outside of the courtyard to the other side and pretending I hadn’t heard all this.

“...He doesn’t hum anymore.”

“...No?” 

She shook her head sadly. “He used to hum a lot when I was littler. At least when no one was around. Then he… well… He went away for a while. And when he came back, he stopped humming…”

“Where did he go?” I stiffened at his words, and the quiet sadness in them, shaking my head. I didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to be reminded. I gritted my teeth and started to make my quiet escape.

“No one will tell me. But father was very mad when he came back… Val says maybe when I’m older... Niko doesn’t talk about it.”

“I am sorry… It must not have been a very nice place.” I was nearly back to the base of the stairs. “But maybe we can make him happy again, yes? ...Do you think maybe... I could make him happy enough to start humming again?”

I froze in my retreat, my heart thudding. Morgana was studying him thoughtfully when I checked back over my shoulder at them. “... Yeah. You seem nice… I think Niko would like you.” Her grin returned. “But if you want to make him really happy, you have to make him cookies.”

“Cookies?” He echoed in surprise.

She nodded. “Yeah. Niko loves fresh baked lemon cookies. And knives! Get him lots of pretty knives.” Morgana jumped up to her feet, bouncing up and down lightly. “He also likes lilies.” She skipped over to the patch by the wall, pointing them out. “Like these. Though he always says that flowers are supposed to be enjoyed where they live…” She dropped off, her lips pursing as a thought suddenly seemed to occur to her. “I think maybe he told me that so I would stop picking flowers in the Royal Gardens… He seems not to mind when I bring him wildflowers.”

“My dear Morgana, you have given me lots of good advice.” I flushed again at the grin in his voice, and could almost picture it on his lips. “I look forward to utilizing it. I should take your counsel more often. I don’t think anyone knows how to make Nikostratus happier than you.”

“Yeah well…” She slowly walked back over, sitting upon the bench once more, “... I think Niko already likes you a lot… I saw the way he looked at you in the throne room.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded surprised again, and I flushed darker, silently begging Morgana into silence. “He looked… ah… very serious.”

She scoffed, obviously not having heard my prayer. “Well, of course! You can’t let anyone know what you’re thinking; it’s like a game, but it’s not very fun. You have to put on a fake face, and then you keep that face up, until you leave. Niko’s very good at it.” She put her hands on her hips, puffing up her chest. “But I know Niko. I can see through his fake face.”

“... And what did you see?” He sounded curious despite himself.

She drooped a bit, looking up at him. She brought up a finger to bite at the nail. “When he was worried about something, he would look at you. And he took attacks meant for you, and stood in front of you when... when someone looked like they might try to be mean.” She dropped her hand. “That’s what he does for me. So that must mean he likes you. Cuz I know he loves me.”

“I see…” I couldn’t quite fathom the tone he replied with, but it made my heart flutter. I swallowed hard. There was not much more I could take of this. “So… does that mean you’ll share your brother with me?”

“I guess I have to, huh? Since he seems to like you… But you seem fun, so that’s ok...” Morgana stopped suddenly, looking down at her hands in her lap. “... Can I come with you to your castle?”

He hesitated, shifting in his seat. “... What did Nikostratus say?”

She sighed. “Last time I asked he said ‘when I’m older’. But I was thinking about it, and I am older now than when he told me that.”

Grier rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we would both love to have you come to the castle with us… But we’d need to ask your father.”

Morgana groaned, dropping her head back. “I thought you were a King too! Why can’t you just order them to let me come with you?”

“I may be King, but that doesn’t mean I always get to do whatever I want.”

“It doesn’t?”

He shook his head. “No. It means I have a big responsibility. To protect my people. To always do what’s right for them. I have the power to make the world a better place. I can’t use that power to be selfish all the time.” He nudged her foot with his. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be a very good King, or a very good person.” I heard his smile returning. “And if I’m not a good person, I can’t marry Nikostratus…. Which I very much want to do.”

Morgana fell silent, thinking about that. “... Niko is a Prince, you know... and he’s a very good Prince.” She told Grier quietly. “But… Sometimes I think he’s too good. Sometimes…” She hesitated, and I saw his head bob to encourage her on. “... Sometimes I think everything he does … is just to make other people happy. He doesn’t do things to make himself happy…” She kicked her feet back and forth again, looking down at her once polished shoes, now scuffed with dirt. “I thought… Maybe if he wasn’t a Prince anymore… if he was just a regular adult… He might get to be happy.” She looked up at him. “Or I thought maybe… since you are a King, he could be a King. And then he could finally do what he wants…” She smiled sadly. “And I think he wants me to come stay with him. But he can’t. Because a good Prince doesn’t disobey his King…”

My heart ached, and I looked down at my feet. Feeling heavy for having laid such worries on the shoulders of my precious little sister. I had thought I was hiding it well from her. Thought I was keeping her safe, and happy… I should have known she was far too perceptive to believe those little white lies I told her all along. Though honestly… perhaps they had always been more for my benefit than hers. I rubbed at the back of my neck, swallowing hard.

“You are the light of your brother’s life,” Grier assured her, his voice soft but firm, “He told me himself. He wants you to come back with us. To stay with us…” He sighed. “The fact that he must choose between you and me is the only weight on my own happiness right now… I wish he did not. And if it were up to me… I would tell him to choose you. Because no one makes him happier than you do. And you’re right… he doesn’t do the things he should to make himself happy.”

“I’d tell him to choose you!” She argued, putting her hands on her hips. “Because I think you can make him happy too. I’ve seen it! And I’ll be a grown up soon, and I’ll go off and fight dragons and see far off places…” She looked up at him through her dark lashes, seeming far older than her nine years in that moment. “But you’ll stay with him. And make him happy when I’m gone.”

I could take no more, and composed myself. Kicking the gravel beneath my boots loudly to announce my presence.

“And where, praytell, little chickadee, do you think you are going?” I asked, my voice stern, stepping out from behind the pillars and striding forward as if I had just come down the stairs. “And what’s this about ‘dragons’ I hear?”

“Niko!” She nearly squeaked, bounding from the bench and sprinting over.

I scooped her up in my arms, hardly breaking stride. Giving her the proper hug I had longed to give her since I had first seen her at court... All the tighter for having overheard them. My heart was heavy, and my head swirled with their words. But I couldn’t keep the small smile from my face as she wrapped her arms about my neck, squeezing so tightly I had to reach up a hand to loosen her death grip in order to breathe properly. Grier stood more slowly, and I saw a small smile on his own face as he turned towards us. I walked over to him, my smile suddenly fading into a shy shadow of its former self as I remembered my last words to him. My eyes dropped to our feet, and I swallowed nervously.

“... I hope you aren’t telling the goblin King all my secrets, little chickadee?” I intoned, my voice as light as I could manage it given the circumstances. I stepped out into the courtyard proper and watched Grier sidle a few steps closer. “Though... I am glad you two have been able to make each other’s acquaintance.”

I hoped he noticed the softness of my tone. The words I didn’t have the strength to speak. I hoped the weight of my guilty conscience didn’t leak into my voice. I chanced a peek at him through my dark lashes.

“Oh, just a few dark secrets.” Grier scoffed, teasing with a wave of his hand, and I felt a little tension leave my shoulders at it. “Nothing important, I’m sure.”

Morgana giggled at the exchange, finally leaning back to look at me properly. “I like him, Niko. He’s fun, and he’s nice. Just like you said he was in your letters.”

My face flushed darker.  “W-well, if you like him, I-I suppose that is the highest accolade he can receive.” I replied, trying to pretend Grier wasn’t now grinning like a fool at my elbow. “... What was this I heard about a ‘dragon’?” Pretending that was all I had overheard.

“The Princess was just regaling me with her plans to go on adventures to far off lands.” Grier recapped, placing his hands on his hips.

“Is that so?” I looked at her and she smiled, nodding eagerly. “Hmmm. Do you think you could postpone them for a bit?” My small smile twitched with my excitement. “That is... if you still want to come back with us to the goblin castle of course.”

Her eyes went wide, and then her own lips broke into a bright toothed grin. Her responding squeal was so loud it hurt my ear drums and I winced. I would have said something, but had to instead gasp for air as she flung herself back at me, wrapping her little arms tightly around my neck. I glanced over at Grier as she bounced and wiggled in her excitement, and I saw surprise in his own face.

“You mean it, Niko?? I can come?? Father said yes??” She cried.

I had to pry her loose again in order to have enough air for a response. “Valerianus is sending for your things as we speak.” I told her, and glanced at Grier to see if he caught my wording. I saw his lips purse slightly, and my heart skipped. But then he nodded. “We can leave now, if you’re ready.” I breathed with relief, though I wasn’t exactly sure which of them I was asking.

Morgana was of course the one to answer. “YES! YES!” She squealed. “COME ON THEN! Let’s go! Ohmygosh I’m SO EXCITED!!”

I managed a quiet laugh, despite my anxiousness. She wriggled and bounced even more in my arms, but I suddenly felt afraid to put her down. As if she might dart off, or alert the wrong person to our plans. I glanced at Grier again, and he placed his hand on my elbow briefly. As much as he dared while we were here. I was surprised to find an ache forming at the thought of the goblin restraining himself. As I had learned to do. Again I found myself filled with an eagerness to leave. Be gone from these walls before they suffocated the brightness in his scarlet eyes and chiseled him into stone like me. I clutched my sister closer to me, hoping it wasn’t too late to keep the same fate from befalling her, nodding to him again.

I led the way out of the courtyard and back to the main gates. I was pleased to see the goblins appear, as if out of thin air, lining the path and following us back. I knew they must have been guarding and watching their King, perhaps even me, from the shadows. Now they emerged, their small bodies surrounding us… it made me feel a little safer. I wondered briefly how long Lord Tipp had lasted as Grier’s host, as he was of course no where to be seen, but decided that would be a question for another time. Morgana babbled a thousand questions of her own, endlessly bouncing and twisting in my arms. I still didn’t dare put her down, and tried my best to respond to her as much as I was able, as I was still consumed with worry. Afraid that my hopes would be crushed, and the light of my life would be ripped from my arms before we could whisk her away to safety.

I caught sight of Valerianus as we approached the carriage, squaring off with Damjan. I swallowed hard, my heart skipping a beat. But when he glanced over at us, he merely nodded. I felt my knees quiver a little as I slowly and reluctantly placed Morgana back on the ground. She bounded over to our older brother, beaming widely and dancing from foot to foot. My ears were far too full of my pounding heart to hear their quiet exchange. Morgana jumped up to hug Valerianus, wrapping her arms as far around his waist as they would go. His mask twitched at the edges for a moment, and he looked surprised. Then his face softened, ever so slightly, and his big hand gently stroked her head.

His eyes met mine again as she broke away, skipping over to the carriage door. I vaguely heard Damjan’s boisterous laugh, presumably in response to something Morgana must have said to him. But my eyes were focused on my brother as I approached him, Grier at my side. I stopped in front of him, mask back in place. Shoulders squared. I bowed my head in deference to him, and he snapped his heels together. Dipping into a bow as well.

“Your Majesty,” He addressed Grier, as was to be expected, “There are no words in our language that would fully express our gratitude for your aid. However, know that you are most welcome in our halls anytime.”

Grier dipped his head slightly, placing one hand over his heart. “Thank you, Prince Valerianus. I do appreciate that.” He nodded to the outer wall of the castle. “Though we must take our leave, my people will stay, until the last of your citizens have been seen to. I shall make sure one comes to see to yourself, as well as any willing members of Court.”

 The Crown Prince nodded, murmuring another quiet exchange of thanks. There was a pause, and I could see Valerianus hesitating. I peeked up at him, a little surprised, but kept my head bowed. Looking at him from just the corners of my eyes. Grier seemed to notice his pause as well, and raised a slender eyebrow. 

“Speak your mind, Your Highness. I assure you I will take no insult.”

Valerianus cleared his throat as he slowly straightened, tucking his hands behind his back lightly. Peering down his nose at the goblin with a stern expression. “I hope you will pardon my belatedness on the matter…” He started, then hesitated again briefly. “... However, I feel it is my responsibility as the elder brother to warn you to treat Prince Nikostratus well-” My ears suddenly flamed hot “-Should you fail to do so, I shall not hesitate to use all resources at my disposal to avenge any unkindness you have shown him.”

Grier’s grin was nearly unbearable, and I saw my brother shift slightly in light of it. “Your Highness, allow me to reassure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure Prince Nikostratus is treated as he deserves. You need never fear this.” He dipped his head again, and his tone became more serious. “It is my solemn vow... and my greatest wish... to see him happy.”

Valerianus nodded, his mask returning, and he bowed deeply at the waist. “Thank you, Your Majesty. For that, I am in your eternal debt.” His eyes broke protocol, flicking over to me. 

He cleared his throat again, straightening slowly. I felt my cue to rise, and did so slowly. Almost afraid to look up at him. Not sure how to feel in that moment, and feeling my entire face in an absolute blaze of heat despite my otherwise masked emotions. Valerianus nodded to me, then dipped his head.

“I shall send word when the… situation has changed, and it is safe for Morgana to return.” He told me. “And I can rest easy knowing there is no safer place for her in the wide world than in your care… brother.” I dipped my head in response, still flushed in the wake of the most tender platitudes he had ever offered me, and we exchanged a soft farewell. Then the Crown Prince gave a final formal bow, turned on heel once more, and marched back to the castle.

“You know,” I jumped at Grier’s voice as he returned to his place at my side and we watched my brother’s departure, “I’ve decided I rather like that man after all.”

My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, but I offered a slow nod. “... Me too.”

I jumped again as his hands curled around my elbow. “You’re still my favorite Prince though.” He assured me, grinning up at me like a fool. My flush renewed and my lips worked uselessly at the air for a moment.

“NIKO!” Came Morgana’s impatient shout, breaking the moment. I turned to see her standing in the doorway of the carriage. She stomped her foot for emphasis. “Let’s go, Niko! I wanna see the castle!”

I almost groaned, but settled for a small shake of my head as Grier laughed beside me. He tugged my arm, jerking his own head towards the carriage and leading the way. Damjan smirked at me as we passed him by.

“‘Niko’ is it, Your Highness?” He mused. I shot him a sour look out the corner of my eye, and he laughed as well, closing the carriage door behind us and taking up position at the rear.

Once we were settled inside, Morgana darted from window to window and seat to seat as the carriage bounced us out of the city. More than once she clambered over my lap, and I was pretty sure she stepped on Grier’s toes at least twice in her eagerness. But he merely laughed again, his scarlet eyes full of light. I wondered at that for a time. Wondered if everything that had passed since the last time we had sat in this carriage negated the lingering uncertainty I felt. Wondered if he had already forgotten how I had hurt him in that moment… I finally started to relax as the castle slowly faded into the distance, and felt a bit of the stone drop away from me as I watched my sister bound about in her excitement.

It took nearly two hours for her to settle, and another hour after that for her questions to slow. It was after sunset as we approached the walls of the goblin city, and Morgana had finally fallen into a quiet doze. Resting against my shoulder, her fingers and legs still twitching every now and then. I stroked her hair back out of her face, stifling a deep sigh.

“You can relax, my young Prince.” The King mused, leaning back against his seat.

I glanced at him, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

He smiled, almost timidly, but no less warm. “... We’re back in our own kingdom now. You can relax. We’re safe amid our people… and Morgana is safe with us.”

I looked down at her, and felt my features soften. I pushed her hair out of her face again, and my lips twitched. “... It feels like a dream… I wasn’t sure it would ever be possible.”

“I’m certainly looking forward to seeing that more.”

Again, I looked at him in surprise. “... Seeing what?”

He pointed, his own lips curling into another warm shape. “That. Your smile… it lights up your whole face.” The goblin leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Now that Morgana is here… I hope that you can be happy… truly happy. Without the weight of her absence on you. I did promise your brother, after all.”

I peeked up at him through my dark lashes, feeling my face flush again. “O-oh. Yes… I-I mean… I mean that… th-that yes… of course I… I-I…” I stammered uselessly.

He chuckled, and his lips split to bare his sharp teeth mischievously. “I see I have you all flustered again.” His head cocked to the side. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

The carriage came to a halt, and I quickly used it as an excuse to scoop Morgana up in my arms to avoid further discussion. Grier led the way out, and as I stepped out into the cool night I felt her stirring in my arms.

“Are we there?” She asked, blinking up at me sleepily and rubbing at one eye with her fist. “Are we at the castle?”

“Yes, but it’s late.” I told her. “We should get you to bed. You can see the castle tomorrow.”

“Nooo!” She whined softly. “I want to see-” She was halted by a wide mouthed yawn, and I shifted her in my grip.

“You’ll have plenty of time to explore. After you get some sleep.” I told her, and my voice left no room for argument.

Morgana sighed, settling back into my arms without further protest. Grier smirked, then led the way through the halls up to the tower chambers. I felt her turning her head about as we went, her eyes wide and curious despite their sleepy edges. An attendant followed alongside us with a light, and her head twitched back and forth as she tried to take in as much as she could while we walked. Even going so far as to clamber up and dangle over the back of my shoulder.

“She can stay with me tonight,” I told Grier, adjusting easily to her antics, “We’ll get her proper rooms in the morning... if that’s alright.”

He nodded. “But of course.”

“Is it a big castle?” She asked, twisting to look at the goblin King. “Are there lots of rooms? Can I have a window that looks at the city? Will I have a goblin lady to help me?”

“Chickadee,” I sighed patiently, shaking my head, “Haven’t you asked enough questions for today?”

“No.”

Grier laughed at that, pausing at the door to my chambers to glance over his shoulder at us. “It is a very big castle.” He told her, pushing open the door and stepping aside to let us pass. “I have a few young noble ladies in mind who would be pleased to be your lady in waiting. You can meet them tomorrow. And I’m afraid I can’t get you rooms that overlook the city… as most of it is under our feet.”

She gasped with delight, and craned herself to look at our feet as I carried her through the foyer. As if she could see through the stone beneath us. Seoc appeared, lighting a few candles and opening the curtains to let the moonlight in. I nodded to him appreciatively, and he gave me a cheery grin before disappearing back into the hall.

“These are your rooms Niko?” She asked, looking around as I brought her over to the bed. She frowned. “Why are they so empty? Where’s all your stuff?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, spinning to look at Grier. “Where are your rooms?” She bounded back up to her knees even as I put her down on the bed. “Are they nearby? Did you move your stuff to his room? Is that why it’s empty here? Do you sleep together?”

There was a loud CLONK as my head hit the side of the bedpost when I jerked sharply at her words. I sputtered uselessly as my face flushed and I struggled to keep my balance, rubbing at the back of my head. Over my shoulder, Grier had started laughing so hard he had doubled over. I shot him a look that he didn’t see, as he was too busy wiping tears from his eyes.

“What’s so funny??” Morgana demanded, obviously wanting in on the joke she thought she was missing. “You told me you were getting married, Niko. Married people have the same bed, don’t they?” She cocked her head to the side. “Are you sure you’re getting married? I haven’t seen you guys kiss or anything. Don’t married people kiss? Is it because you’re boys? Do boys not kiss? I thought you liked him? Niko, why is your face all red? Niko-”

“AL-ALRIGHT, that’s it!” I managed to sputter out finally, then clenched my jaw. I spun, pointing one stern finger at Grier, still bent in half in stitches. “YOU, out.” Then set my point on Morgana. “YOU, bed.”

Now it was the goblin’s turn to sputter. “Well, hold on just a moment, I’m the King here, you cannot…” He stopped short in his objection at the look I shot him. Clamping his mouth shut. After a breath, he gave me a small, sheepish grin. “I’ll just… wait outside for a minute, shall I?”

“But Niiiko!” came Morgana’s responding whine as Grier left the room, “I’m not tired at all!”

Her efforts of denial were sabotaged by another wide yawn, and I smirked a little through my flush as I removed her shoes and stockings. Placing them neatly on the ground by the side of the bed. She sighed, relenting without further fight, and fell back into the pillow. Luckily, the girl never wore anything remotely restricting, so I didn’t feel too bad about her sleeping in her current attire. I would be sure to get her a proper nightgown for the next evening, if one hadn’t been packed for her. I pushed her hair back out of her face, running my thumb by her eye. She smiled up at me, snuggling herself down into the blankets.

“Would you like me to tell you a story?” I asked her, my voice soft.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I told you, Niko, I’m not a baby. I don’t need you to tell me stories anymore... Are you going to sleep too?” A little frown twitched across her lips. “Do goblins sleep? Does the King even have a bed? Do-”

“Please, little chickadee,” I interrupted her exasperatedly, giving her head a gentle squeeze beneath my oversized palm, “Enough questions for now.”

“But-”

“Tell you what,” I stopped her again, “You go ahead and make a list, up here-” I tapped her temple “-And I’ll answer every single one of them in the morning. And any new ones you think of by then.” I smirked. “It’ll be like counting sheep. Ok?”

She thought about that for a moment, pushing my hand away. “... Ok.”

She snuggled deeper into the blankets, seeming to think things over. I watched her eyes start to droop, and she yawned again. I started to stroke her hair. Sending all my gratitude to every possible listening patron or god for letting me have that moment. I didn’t care who took credit. I was just so thankful, I needed the universe to know. 

“... Niko?”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Yes, chickadee?”

“... You like Grier, right?” She looked up at me through her dark lashes, then yawned again. “You’re not just marrying him because it’ll make people happy, right?”

I stiffened, and my hands slowed. I thought about that for a quiet moment. And about what she had said in the courtyard to the goblin. I wasn’t sure I had ever been so clearly forced to recognize that aspect of myself before. I wanted to deny it, but... My heart ached a little, and I felt my head swirl… Did I like him? Or was it merely just the first time I had allowed myself to like someone? I knew he made my heart race, and I couldn’t fully deny the presence of a warm feeling that was beyond just a physical attraction. I had been suppressing the latter for so long; I knew it for what it was. I had never acted upon it before, or even remotely felt the opportunity to. Save for once, and it had blown up in my face… But… Did that mean I liked him?... Certainly, he was a good person… I didn’t dislike him in any way, I knew that… And I knew that was not what she meant, either.

I adjusted my jaw, realizing I had left her question hanging for far too long. So I ran my thumb lightly along her temple. And answered as honestly as I could.

 “...Yeah, chickadee… I think I do like him.”

She smirked. “I knew it... But I wanted to make sure you did too.”

I shook my head, releasing the heavy sigh I had withheld before. She giggled, then yawned again. I sat by her side, stroking her hair, until her eyes drifted closed and her breathing deepened. It didn’t take long. I moved carefully to stand, so as to not wake her, and snuck out of the room. Grier stood against the wall by the door in the foyer, fidgeting with his usual impatience. I glanced at him warily, then back over my shoulder, before jerking my head to gesture for him to follow me.

I didn’t dare go very far, but hoped standing in the doorway of the next room would be enough to keep our voices from waking her. Grier crossed his arms, leaning on the door frame and craning his neck back to look up at me.

“All settled then?” He asked quietly.

I sighed tiredly, glancing back over to the door of my bedroom. “If she ever is.” He chuckled at that, and I returned my attention to him. Reaching up and rubbing at the back of my neck. “... I’ll be staying here tonight.” I mumbled, uncertain if I needed to tell him, or what I was implying might have been the alternative had I not, and my face flushed again as I did.

He grinned, but nodded. “I assumed as much. I don’t mind of course.” He tilted his head to the side and his smile grew a little more. “I just hope the castle is still in one piece by the time I wake up tomorrow.”

I scoffed quietly, glancing back over to the bedroom. “No guarantees on that.”

“You know…” I started slightly at his hand as it came up to brush my neck. “... A little bird told me that you might like me...” 

His voice was only enriched by his light teasing tones, but I still flushed a little darker at his words. So he had been listening... I looked down at him shyly, and felt that strange surge of warmth in my chest at the sight of his scarlet eyes. I hesitated, unable to resist shuffling a little as he skimmed his thumb along my jaw.

“... A-about earlier…I mean… This morning...” I started to mumble, more than a little distracted by his hand. “In the carriage. I-”

“I understand…” He interrupted. “And I’m not mad, or upset with you... I’m…” The goblin paused, chewing over his words for a moment. “... We can talk more later, when we’ve both gotten a good night’s sleep. But… I’m glad you… I’m just glad you’re here.”

“W-well...I want t-to… to say ‘thank you’…” I stammered, my voice soft, “For-”

“Stop.” He told me, his voice equally soft. “You never need to thank me for doing things to make you happy… You never need to feel guilty for being happy, either.”

I hesitated, glancing down at the floor. Uncertain how to reply. I remembered what I had overheard in the courtyard earlier, and tried to decide how I would’ve acted had I not over heard it...  I tried hard not to stiffen, or hide behind a mask. I tried to let my guard down, reminding myself of all the times I had managed to do so before with him. And how it had always seemed to work out. Tried to forget the trials of the day, and just… enjoy that moment. If I could. His arm was extended as far as it could be to reach me, and his other came up to catch my hands wringing in front of me. I stopped, having not even noticed I was wringing them until his fingers touched mine. I peeked at him, and saw his eyes watching me quietly. Perhaps trying to read the chaos of emotions currently fighting for dominance on my face.

“It’s been a long and difficult day.” He murmured finally. “I’ll let you get some rest… But I would like to speak more about…” He stopped, and I saw him adjust himself momentarily before continuing. “...About everything…” He squeezed my hands, giving me a coy smile. “Though I suppose we have a lifetime for that.”

“Gods willing.” I agreed, almost automatically, then somehow flushed darker.

His smile grew slightly, and he stretched up even further to slide his hand towards the back of my head. I hesitated only briefly before I curled down to accommodate him, and felt my skin tingle as his fingers brushed over it. He paused, his face lingering only a short distance away from mine. I saw his eyes flick to my lips, and couldn’t help sneaking my own glance at his. The memory of our last similar encounter it the private audience room filtered to the forefront of my thoughts and had my breath hitching. I swallowed nervously. He inched a little closer, standing on his tiptoes, then stopped. Leaving me with his warm breath splashing across my face. Leaving me with the option to pull away...

But for me, there was only one option. I closed the gap, bending down to press our mouths together as carefully as I could manage. I even dared to go so far as to take a step closer to him, backing him against the doorframe and letting him rock onto his heels as my hands came to his waist and my shoulders bowed around him. His arms came up, wrapping around my neck as he deepened our kiss, and I almost shivered beneath his touch. His body melted against mine, and my eyes fluttered closed, forgetting myself for a minute. His tongue slipped between my lips, and I twirled mine lightly around it. I could taste his sigh, and felt my heart skip as he ran one hand over the back of my head.

A giggle had me startled, and quickly jerked my head up just in time to catch the tail end of a skirt flashing in the bedroom doorway. Instantly my face blazed hot, and I broke away from his embrace clumsily, staggering back a step. Setting us both off balance. Fuckfuckfuckfuck, FUCK! I thought to myself, suddenly in an absolute panic as one of my worst nightmares was realized. Then made even worse than I had ever imagined. I shook myself, reaching up to cover my face with both hands. Absolutely mortified. I wanted nothing more than to dissolve into thin air. Disappear and hide away until everyone forgot my name. My legs itched to launch me into a full on sprint and carry me away…

 But I didn’t flee, even though I wanted to. Instead, I let out a quiet, mortified groan, and bent over the goblin’s smaller form in front of me to bang my head lightly against the doorframe above his. Hands still cupped to shield my burning face. Maybe it was all a dream. And I would wake up now. For his part, Grier merely laughed, and I felt his arms wrap around my middle. I was surprised that instead of feeling more embarrassed…. My tension eased a little with his touch.

“I suppose she got her answer in the end anyways.” He teased, and I banged my head lightly against the frame again in response. He chuckled, more softly this time, tucking himself into my chest briefly in a gentle hug before he stepped back. “I should be going; I have to say… I’m rather tired.”

I eased back, peeking at him through my fingers. “Ah-a… S-ssorry…”

He reached up, catching one hand and gently pulling it away. “Don’t be. I know now you are a shy person...” His grin became sly, “... I find it absolutely endearing.” He stretched up, placing a quick peck on my lips before I could react. “Have a good evening, my young Prince… I’ll see you tomorrow… And ah… We’ll talk then.”

With that he ducked under my elbow and made his way over to the door. Casting me a final wink as he stepped out into the hall. I sighed quietly, leaning against the frame for a moment. Trying to compose myself. I heard another soft giggle, and looked up to see one mischievous hazel eye poking out from the bedroom. I shook my head, trying my best to put on a scowl, but failing miserably.

“I swear, little chickadee,” I growled, “If you say one word, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

My face flushed again as I heard a muffled laugh from the hallway.

...

UPDATE: Part Eleven HERE

[loopy777]

Non-Review: Free Comic Book Day 2021 - The Legend of Korra (Also Featuring Avatar: The Last Airbender)

With all the hype around 'Suki Alone,' it looks to me like most of the fandom missed that an additional Avatar comic with a story from each cartoon's era was just released for Free Comic Book Day. You can read them for yourself on either Dark Horse Digital or Comixology where it's mislabeled as being for ages 17+ (free accounts are required for both), but I'm sure one of the reasons you all love me is because of my willingness to jump in between you and these comics like the deadly bullets they can be. Well, I'm happy to die (metaphorically) for the sake of (a little anonymous internet) love, so I'm doing a full snarky review for each ten-page story. Also, I'm bored, and it's more fun to make fun of mediocre stuff than to praise stuff I like.

It's time for me to review "Free Comic Book Day 2021 - The Legend of Korra (Also Featuring Avatar: The Last Airbender)" or more specifically "The Legend of Korra: Clearing the Air" and "Avatar: The Last Airbender: Matcha Makers."

CLEARING THE AIR

The cover makes this look like a story about Jinora and Ikki having a sibling conflict. That's a lie. The Air Sisters arguing is merely the inciting incident for Tenzin telling a story of his youth. I should note that, as inconsequential as the Air Sisters stuff is, it's actually written very well because it posits Ikki as a victim of circumstance and Jinora as a bully who terrorizes her little sister with threats of getting thrown in jail by Metalbenders for an accident, cementing the characterization from the cartoon. This is not sarcasm. I really do think Jinora is presented by LoK as a Holier Than Thou little snot who just so happened to be naturally gifted with magic spirit-powers, but for some reason the rest of the fandom doesn't agree with me.

Anyway, Tenzin comes in to find the arguing (and Meelo just running amok for the fun of it and so far these characterizations are perfect), and rather than telling Jinora to shut her stupid face, he delivers a tale of his youth about conflict resolution.

So the meat of the story is how, when Tenzin was "a few years older" than Jinora, a pair of vandals got onto Air Temple Island and burned some graffiti into the spinning-panel things that Korra will destroy out of frustration during her Airbending training. Literally, the vandals are depicted as scorching the wood with enough smoke to be seen across a plaza. Tenzin goes after the vandals and they flee across the bay back to Republic City proper (one of the vandals is a Waterbender with a surf-plank). Tenzin pursues, catches them, and attacks them hard enough to smash some dockside crates. They are all then arrested by Metalbenders and dragged before Chief Toph. She's going to let Tenzin go (yay Toph!) and throw the vandals in jail (YAY TOPH!) and makes this face, and this entire comic is worth it:

However, Aang arrives and instead arranges to forgo the jail-time in favor of an Air Nomad Conflict Resolution Ceremony. This is nice and in-character, but I'm totally with Tenzin that these vandals should have been thrown in jail. They literally burned insulting graffiti into antiques from a genocided culture. But instead, Aang demonstrates conflict resolution by having Tenzin explain why he's hurt and what needs to be done to redress the wrong. And so the vandals help Tenzin scrub the graffiti off the panels with water and rags and mops- how, I don't know, since they were literally burned.

They also do a ceremony thing where they each take turns bending their element into a central space between them to 'clear the air' (GET IT GET IT HA HA IT'S ALMOST LIKE A PUN BUT NOT), so it's a good thing they were all Benders because this is kinda racist. This fixes all the problems and everyone is friends. Yay!

In the present, though, things are not so nice, because Tenzin's kids are still screaming at and provoking each other. Korra comes in with Asami at the end to ask what's going on, and Asami says nothing, so I still think everyone is characterized with perfect consistency with the cartoon.

I made this sound silly, but (aside from the spinny-panels getting cleaned with a little water and elbow-grease, which doesn't matter because Korra will eventually blow them all up anyway), I actually like this one. It has Tenzin demonstrate how much he's always had to work to be the Perfect Air Monk that everyone expects him to be, and Aang acknowledges how this is unfair but that Tenzin will never let him down no matter what. It also has Katara come in at the end (for just one line, boo!) to acknowledge that this was an especially easy little conflict for Tenzin to practice on and he'll eventually face worse. I found it a nice adult moment in a story that's otherwise clearly aimed at 8-year-olds.

The art is good. It's simpler than the LoK cartoon, with flat colors, but it captures the story and has enough liveliness for everyone's character to come across in their look and body-language. The brief action-sequence where Tenzin attacks the vandals is well done, moving quickly but showing the full flow of the fight and every move Tenzin makes.

MATCHA MAKERS

Apparently, "Matcha is finely ground powder of specially grown and processed green tea leaves, traditionally consumed in East Asia" according to Wikipedia. I had to look that up. I'm curious how many people understood the full reference in the title, especially since these comics are aimed at kids too young to be allowed on the internet.

This is a very simple story about Iroh in his tea-shop in Ba Sing Se. He has an assistant/waitress named Feng, a new character who wears glasses, ruining the hopes and dreams of all the fanfic-writers who were so sure he'd rescue Jin from the Lower Ring. A frequent patron of the tea shop is an elegant, older lady (very clearly Upper Ring material) named Li-Mei, who cannot go a single panel without giving Iroh a HEY BIG BOY look. She is very clearly smitten. Also, I feel the need to clarify that she knows his name is Iroh, so apparently Ba Sing Se is okay with the Dragon of the West serving tea to their wealthy. I don't say that as a criticism, I'm just noting it.

That night, Iroh meets up with his friends- the Pokemon-style spirits that we saw in Legend of Korra. (I don't know if they're the actual spirits from LoK, or just new spirits in the same style. This is because I would sooner grind matcha into my eyes than rewatch Book Spirits.) He serves them his special blend of tea and talks about how he's totally into Li-Mei but isn't going to pursue it because he's feeling old and doesn't want to take a risk. At this point, I could stop describing the plot because between the title and what I've said so far, I'm sure you could figure out every single plot beat that will follow.

The next day, the spirits trip Feng so that she drops Li-Mei's tea and Iroh needs to bring a replacement, and they've drawn hearts on top of the replacement tea with foam or sugar or milk or whatever. I don't know because I've never bought tea in a place that will even put the bag in the hot water for me. Iroh gets out of the situation without starting any love-affairs and runs into the back to tell the spirits to knock it off, dudes, they're totally embarrassing him! The spirits respond by giving him a flyer for a romantic restaurant. I don't know how they got it, so I can only assume that some Upper Ringer had their mail diverted.

Iroh refuses, so when Li-Mei orders more tea and he brings it to her, the spirits hover just out of her sight and threaten to smash the furniture. I am not making that up. They literally threaten to smash Iroh's furniture unless he asks the lady out. He submits to their tyrannical threats, Li-Mei happily accepts the date, he happily accepts her acceptance, and the story comes to a close. Iroh thanks his spirits friends for opening him up to new experience, but hopes that next time (so I guess Iroh is signing up for Tinder after this?) they won't threaten his shop.

At best, I can describe this story as 'harmless.' But it's been a long week and I just got a bunch more extra work at my day job that I really don't want to do, so I'm going to go ahead and call this story 'dumb.' It's rote, leans towards humor without actually being funny at all, and turns the spirits of the setting into Pokemon. And not even the cool dragon kind.

The art is strangely stiff. The coloring is soft and nice, but the drawings seems more 'assembled' than actually drawn. I swear there are even a few panels that reminded me of 'How I Became Yours' with janky poses, horrifying expressions, and just enough resemblance to the original cartoon to make me think a screenshot was partially traced and then ruined. (I'm not accusing the artist of tracing, BTW. I wouldn't even condemn the artist for tracing if they did. I'm just describing that HIBY feeling I got.) It was so stiff that rather than hear Iroh's dialogue in Mako's rich tones, I instead imagined Greg Baldwin doing a stiff Mako-impression with no naturalism to the delivery.

This story is definitely worthy of its "Also Featuring" billing. I'd rate it below Gene Yang's Mai and Suki FCBD short stories, but above everything else he wrote for Avatar.

So there you go. Overall, this is very middle-of-the-pack for Avatar FCBD stuff. It's very much of the nature of the 'Team Avatar Tales' stuff, and I wouldn't be surprised if the Iroh story was a leftover from that project. On Free Comic Book Day, you often get what you pay for.

[popculturebuffet]

House of Mouse: Mickey and the Culture Clash (Commission by WeirdKev27) or “What the Hell, Clarabelle?”

Hello, hello, hello... I wish I could say I was in good spirits but i’m tired, have covid induced chills running down my spine.. and oh yeah there was an armed insurrection i the captial last night that showed just how broken this country was. And while Monster Bash would still be relevant... I couldn’t do it. I admit to being unable to do an episode where the millitant racist nutjob who harms people runs off into the night, and does much worse in later episodes, while the people she harassed are arrested the night after a bunch of millitant, racist, sociopathic, selfish nightmares sieged the captial, killed a woman, raised the fucking maga flag over the buildling and took pictures like they were goddamn heroes.  We got a stark reminder, not a wake up call, not an opening a REMINDER of just how badly broken our country is last night, and it wasn’t till this morning I found out just how BAD it was. The deaths, the flag, the fact josh fucking hawley, MY STAT’ES SENATOR and registered piece of shit, raised  A FUCKING FIST IN SOLIDARITY, which gives me the crippling fear his stupidity and unabashed racisim and support of a cou could mean riots at best and attempted uprisings at worst and who knows what kind of hate crimes against those of color and those in my own queer community. I am afraid, tired, and I am pissed and I feel we could ALL use something wholesome, warm and far removed from the shit going on. And in my hour of need to figure out something like that to put on the schedule.. Kev brought up a wonderfufl idea.  Every month this month till the end of it Kev is going to comission one episode of a show near and dear to both our hearts that has it’s 20th birthday this month. House of Mouse. He was intitally going to request Pete’s One Man Show, which is one of my faviorites, but was ironcially one I already planned to cover next month to celebrate both the show’s anniversary and Pete’s Birthday. But since he was happy to wait till then to comission it, he instead asked for another classic and one with easily my faviorite character on the show: Moritmer Mouse. 

One of the best things House of Mouse did was bring back Mortimer Mouse. Introduced in Mickey’s Rival, Mortimer was an ex of minnies who showed up for one short to be a dick to mickey before running off and leaving Minnie at the mercy of a bull he pissed off. He also weirdly kept electrodes and a car battery in his pants. The short itself is.. not great mostly because Minnie dimissies Mickey rightfully being pissed someone is hitting on his girlfriend in front of him, making jokes at his expense, and generally being a pillock as being jealous... which yeah, yeah he is. Most of the time jealousy and supscison of your partner is ugly, gross and damaging to a relationship.  You should trust them unless you’ve been given good reason not to, and if your paranoidly jealous about every friend she has she could be attracted to.. get some fucking help. Seriously, I need to, not for this for various other problems, but get some therapy to help with your trust issues or if your just being the kind of dick who naturally assumes men and women or men and men or women and women or men and nonibinary persons, or women and nonbinary peeps and so on and so on cannot be friends if they could possibly be togehter romantically... grow up.  I say all of that because those are serious underlying issues and I didn’t want it to seem like for a moment I was supporting them... and because sometimes i’ts OKAY to be jealous, to either just feel a little jealous of someone, or to you know be irate because your girlfriend’s ex is hitting on her in front of you and she’s being entirely receptive to it. 

So yeah i’ts really hard to feel bad for minnie’s bull attack or find the ending sweet after Minnie was you know, what ramona said for an entire short. However my point for this rant, besides giving out about the short again because I clearly didn’t enough in my Mickey Birthday Special, is that Mortimer is still pretty great. He’s a frat bro in the 40′s sense sure, but the idea of a local douche hoping to swoop in and woo minnie away, who has an oddly specific sense of humor and a bizzare, memorable and wonderful walk, seriously the short is worth watching for mortimier’s “I got two car batteris in my pants’ walk, is a good one. While he’d naturally show up in comics and what have you Mortimer just sort of vanished. But clearly someone on the House of Mouse staff, and Mousewerks before it, agreed because Morty was made easily one of the best and most recurring characters in the HOM, and often more prominent than Horace or Gus. While he still tried his old “I’m gonna do your common law wife act” a few times he was mostly there to be an annoying douche when the ep needed one and to be taken down a peg by everyone in the house. And that VERY MUCH includes Mickey. That’s also part of why I love this show bringing him back: It gives Mickey someone besides pete to give out too on a regular basis. He’s still his charming self about it but it’s lovelyt os ee Mickey sarcastically roast someone. And I honestly attribute the main factor of his sucess on the show to VA Maurice LaMarche. While his original VA, Sonny Dawson, was fantastic.. it’s Maurice who very clearly made the character his. While others like Jeff Bennet have taken over since i’ts Maurice who gave him his signature “ha-cha-cha” catchphrase, swagger and signiture voice. And no i’ts not lost on me that one of Maurice’s OTHER best roles is another cartoon mouse.. and I now very badly want him to meet Pinky and the Brain. But yeah, Maurice just oozes the smarm that defines mortimer for me, oozes condescinon and assholery and he, is., glorious. He was a faviorite as a kid, he’s a faviorite now, and Disney needs to use him more.. and also have Maurice voice him for wonderufl world of mickey mouse, though Jeff Bennett is not bad at all I just prefer the master at the role. 

So obviously, after the nightmare of an evening america had yesterday, an episode not only about how wholesome mickey and minnie are but about Mickey teaming up with Mortimer was EXACTLY what i needed. So pitter patter, this is Mickey and the Culture clash. As always for house of mouse i’ll be chonking it up and since this one starts right with the wraparound, and sicnce you know I spent a godo few pagraphs going over mortimer and he’s only IN the wraparound this episode... let’s start there

Mickey and the Culture Clash: Don’t Go Changin, To Try and Please Me So we open the episode and the review proper with Mickey performing a banjo sernade for Minnie, their song in fact. It’s a really sweet scene.. that’s quickly ruined by Clarabelle being an asshole, who says i’ts a bit crude. Minnie counters that while “It’s not mozart”, it’s nice and she clearly likes it and the gesture. Instead of you know leaving it there like a good friend, like she’s SUPPOSED to be to Minnie in most continuities, Clarabelle.. takes the things she said and her having to run out to wrangle pluto out of context, painting it as her thinking he’s not sophisticated and then running out because of it. Oh and she tops it by pointing to a classified add from a MM looking for sophisticated companionship. 

It just paints Clarabelle not as Minnie’s friend or a chatty gossip, but as a heartless bitch who has no trouble implying one of her best friends would cheat on her boyfriend TO HIS FACE, and is fine wrecking a perfectly lovely relationship just to have more to talk about. Seriously she starts gossiping to everybody on top of it just in case you thought Clarabelle was a decent person in any shape this episode. She’s the one thing about this episode that dosen’t work despite being integral to it.. well two but hte other thing is a small, end of episode gag we’ll get to. This.. this is an integral part of the plot. It also relies on Daisy and Donald being absent for the episode for what I can only assume is their annual sex decathalon because otherwise the second she heard about her friend doing this, before reassuring Minnie, Donald would be holdiing her while Daisy beat the absolute shit out of her for hurting thier closest friend and not bothering to take a look into anything when leveling such a rough accusation at Minnie. In a really stellar, really well paced episode, Clarabelle being so heartless stands out. It’s also, might as well get this out of the way, teh final episode not inlcuding the two holiday specials.. and it’s a good note to go out on otherwise, I just can’t ignore the obnoxious cow in the room.. in both senses of the word. 

So yeah Mickey’s trying to be fancy, and Mortimer gets a good dig in about him reading “You having trouble sounding out the words”, but once he hears what’s going on, or rather once he realizes mickey things Mortimer’s personal add is in fact his girlfriend cheating on him, he decides to help Mickey. And to his credit for this con.. Mortimer actually thought things out on how to trick his rival, and his plan here is douchey as hell but incredibly genius: he offers to help mickey and while that’d normally be suspcious he offers a genuine, and very mortimer explination for helping him become a bit more sophisticated to win minnie back: if Minnie finds a handsome, sophisticated guy to date, what chance does MORTIMER have against that? At least with Mickey, in his deluded egocentric view of things anyway, he has a shot at beating him. 

So Mickey classes it up a bit, taking some sopshitcated stances when announcing and trying to woo minnie by talking in ye olde english. When that fails, she just finds it silly but charming, Mickey finds Jose.. hitting on her.

Just.. I expect better from you man. Woo ladies all you like as long as your respectful but I expect better than to hit on someone else’s girlfriend.. which granted he has but given the last time we saw him do that, he nearly got stabbed a bunch and the last time he agressively hit on a woman he got punched in the beak as he should, you’d THINK he’d of learned something. Seriously once again Donald is only missing because this time Daisy would be holding Jose down while Donald hit him. Or possibly they’d take turns. Point is Jose REALLY shoudln’t be doing this and knows better.. marginally. But.. it is in character enough so ti’s not as bad as Clarabelle the homewrecker. 

So Mickey tries being fancy and goes on to do poetry instead of letting O’Malley and the Alley Cats play.. which is a nice running gag the series does as they NEVER get to play.. which while funny is a shame since I love the Aristocats. So then we finally get what Mortimer’s been playing at, he swoops in, claims MICKEY dosen’t need HER, and uses the same personal add to trick her. See, while what Mortimer’s doing is vile.. unlike clarabelle I can repsect it at least. I don’t condone it and i’m glad he gets foiled.. but as a bad guy plan it’s pretty clever and for someone like Mortimer whose usually pretty incompitent.. it’s pretty suprising he could pull this off. It’s still pretty damn low and scummy, no question, but props to being able to outwit and nearly outplay two people who deal with your crap on a regular basis and still convincingly conning both.  Thankfully while he tries to take Minnie out Mickey, in a great visual gag, puts two and two together, and busts out their song, with Mickey and Minnie heartwearmingly reuniting on stage as seen above. Then we get that gag I mentioned not liking: Mickey gets Morty back by planting a false marriage proposal from Moritmer to Clarabelle, again under MM and he gets carried off.. HAHA HE’S BEING FORCED INTO A MARRIAGE HE DOSEN’T. LAUGH. LAUGH AT IT. The gag just really hasn’t aged well, as otherwise it’s clever Mickey used Mortimer’s own trick against both him and the person who caused all of this but really.. Clarabelle gets no real compuance. At worse sshe finds out she was tricked.. but she again you know tried to break up her close friends relationship for shits and giggles. But .. it’s at the very end of the episode and very easy to ignore, so it dosen’t really bother me too bad, and compared to some gags of the type i’ve seen, it could be MUCH worse.  Overall this wraparound is one of the series best and a good one to go out on. it has a simple premise, a brilliant antagonist plot, some great bits from all involved, and even a great Belle and Beast cameo. All in all a really good wraparound only hampered by a sexist and dated ending and Clarabelle being portrayed as ...

She’s the worst, in the world. Okay onto the shorts.

Mickey’s Piano Lesson: That was a Fun One

It really was. It’s a simple premise: Minnie wants MIckey to do a piano recital and he decides “I don’t need practice i’m mickey mouse. “ And it’s REALLY nice to have a short that has, rather than aw shucks mickey, shenanigans mickey. While thanks to the new shorts we’ve had tons, it’s still nice to get one in the House of Mouse era, and it’s just fun to see Mickey take the usual donald roll of letting his overconfidence punch him in the face> It fits both though: Both are everyman and while I lean towards the duck, to no one’s shock, Mickey is just as capable, and his lack of practice comes off less like the angry and hostile way donald would dismiss it and mroe just loveable procastination. And as someone who REALLY struggles with procastination I related to this short, as Mickey does everything else he’d rather do from bathing the dog to skydiving till Minnie, in a great bit informs him everyone from the president, to several dignitaries from other countries, to a televised audience will see. We then get two really great and really beatuifully animated bits as MIckey wrestles with the notes on thep age then fights with his piano as he performs, still pulling it off but destroying the thing and rightfully earning a glare form his girlfriend. Just a fun, slapstick short with a great premise. 

Dance of the Goofys: Scary Children Set to classical music, this one has a bunch of goofys as Fairy’s, who are making the flowers go and the one who sleeps in ends up saving the king from a horrifing looking little brat. He reminds me of Montanna Max a bit.. speaking of which Creer Summer recnetly announced Elmyra won’t be in the reboot. And while this does make me fear actually good characters like Fifi, Montana Max, and more will be cut like the animanics reboot and I do feel for Cree not getting to be involved and hope they find another roll for her as, given her status in the industry she deserves better.. THANK FUCKING GOD. I’ll go into this in another review I have planned for the future but unlike the cuts made to animaniacs this was a REALLY good decision i’m really greatful for. Thank you crew thank you. 

Back on topic, it’s just a fun, really beautifully animated short about the goofies and hteir shenanigans with a really great high concept. 

Maestro Minnie: Brahm’s Lullabye: Simply Irresitable Another simple but clever and lovely to watch one, and one I like quite a bit more. Minnie is conducting some living violins to Brahm’s Lullabye to get a baby Violin to sleep, and we get some really beautiful shots of her as she does so.. only to get comically interuppted by other insteruments turning up the noise. Not much to say on this one as it’s short and simple.. but sometimes short and simple is just what you need and the fun premise nad really beautiful especially for tv animation at the time visuals really sell this one.  ONce again, good stuff. 

Overall: This was a REALLY good note to go out on. While as I said the Clarabelle stuff can eat my entire ass, everything else is really damn good and I highly recommend checking this one out. Next time, in about a month, we’ll be looking at Pete’s spotlight episode for his birfday. While you wait tommorow we have my first look at legend of the three cabs. But for now, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Ready now; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

To the anon who requested this from way back when, I first wanna thank you for being SUPER PATIENT with me.  I was going through a lot at the time you sent the request but I am slowly but surely getting through them. Eventually once I get the chance, I may open requests back up again.

Now there’s not really any serious warnings other than swearing, fluff, and angst.  I hope you all enjoy this fic and until next time stay safe, stay healthy, stay positive.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@platawnic

@queensdivas

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@kairosfreddie

____________________________________________________________

*Oklahoma city, Oklahoma, 1976*

It was like every other Wednesday night at COWBOY’S.  The live dancing, bull riding, and of course the famed karaoke night.  I’ve been coming to this club for as long as I can remember, in fact I think I was a kid when I first came here.  It was to see my mama sing for karaoke night and of course my dad is known around here as the world champion bull rider.

He kept that title from the time he was 16 up till just before I was born.  And because of his reputation, I (and I hate to admit it) but I get special treatment every time I go to Cowboy’s.  In fact the current owner, he was my dad’s longtime friend and fellow bull riding competitor.

As I walked inside I could already see the place was packed with people.  Line dancing and really lighting up the dancefloor making this club a real Hoedown. I first went up to the bar and there running it was the owner’s son, Jensen.  He and I go way back, even though he’s like seven years older than me, he treats me like his little sis.  Always keeping the boys away.

“Well, well, well, well, well. Look who walked in. It’s the singing sensation (Y/n) (L/n). Can I just say I am a huge fan of yours!” He teased me at the end.

“Oh Jensen stop it. You know I’m not famous yet.”

“Not yet, but you will be soon.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Okay hang on, let me get your usual and then you spill your guts.” He walked away and got my usual beer and filled it almost up to the rim.  He slid it towards me and he said as he leaned up against the bar, “Alright now talk.” I took a sip of my beer before saying.

“What if no one likes my song?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Jens you know as well as I do that no one really sings original pieces here. It’s always covers of famous songs, and the last time someone did do an original he was booed off the stage.”

“First off, his song sucked and he kept screwing up on the guitar. So of course he was thrown off the stage. But you—you’ve got a serious talent in song writing. And your voice—baby girl the only other female singer I can compare you to here was your mom.”

“You really think so?”

“Coming from a Texas man forced to move here when we first met, you’re bout the only good thing in this one horse town. Hell you’re way better than just sticking right here. Especially since—well you know.”

“I know. It’s……it’s been rough. Ever since the car crash mama’s been—well not herself lately. Music is bout the only thing I can do to make her happy.”

“So you get up on that stage and knock these cow-folks right off their boots. Now go relax on the dance floor and I’ll let my old man know you’re here.”

“Thanks Jensen.” I pulled out my wallet to pay for the beer but he stopped me.

“No need, this one’s on my tab tonight. But expect to pay me back once you hit the big time.” I smiled at him and pocketed my wallet back into my jeans.

“Thanks Jensen, you’re like the brother I never had.”

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you yah silly little day dreamer.” He teased as he placed his cowboy hat on top of my head, teasingly rocking my head from side to side till I stuck my tongue at him and took another swig of my beer.

I then headed off to the dance floor to cool off (dancing always helped me calm down, especially when it’s with a group of people) and I danced with some of my old friends from high school, just letting my hair down as I danced the first hour of the night away before they would call up the performers for karaoke night.

*3rd Person POV*

Unbeknownst to (Y/n), it was also on that night that the most famous rock and roll band would also be there on that night to see her perform.  Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor, and John Deacon, otherwise known as the band Queen, had just arrived in Oklahoma city to do their two night concert they had scheduled for their “A day at the Races” tour.

To let down some steam and relax after a few days on the road, Freddie had heard about this club from a friend of his and convinced the other three to come along and check it out.  All four of them wearing cowboy hats, so that they wouldn’t stick out like sore thumbs, they entered inside and saw the whole place buzzing.

“Wow, this is even more filled than the Disco club Veronica and I met at.” Said John.

“Well Tony said this was the one place in America where you would get a traditional Southern treatment.” Said Freddie. “And I like it. It’s reputation proceeds itself.” He continued with a smile as he adjusted his hat.

“Remind me again why we had to wear these though?” Roger said.

“Don’t be such a party pooper blondie. Besides you see every man in here. Tony said that everyone in Oklahoma wears cowboy hats. Anyone who doesn’t is automatically labeled a stranger. And I don’t want no Wanted poster of me across the state for refusal to wear a cowboy hat.” Freddie said as he playfully shoved Roger.

“It’s not so bad.” Brian said as he fiddled with the string of his hat.

“You’re just saying that cause you can’t feel it on your head.” Quipped John.

“Alright, alright Deacy darling you’ve had your shot at Bri. Now I don’t want any more brawls tonight. I wanna enjoy this night, you three know how much I love to party. So don’t fuck this up for me.”

“If you wanted that Fred then you should’ve left Roger on the bus.” Brian said.

“You know what yah curly haired space poodle……”

“Gentlemen.” The four of them turned to see an old man around his mid-50’s walk up towards them.  He wore a traditional brown colored cowboy hat, his grey goatee reflected off the lights, and the spurs off his boots jingled with each step. “Now I get it we all need to let off some steam, but if you’re gonna cause any trouble I’m gonna ask you all to leave.”

“No worries my good sir. You must forgive my friend here, he didn’t quite have him fixed yet so his testosterone can run him ragged like one of your bulls.” Freddie sweet-talked the man.

“Watch it Fred!” Roger sneered as he took out a cigarette and lit it up.

“Alright. I’m trusting you to keep an eye on your friend there. I get enough drunks brawling every night here, I don’t need another damage fee added to my billing. Bobby Singer, owner of Cowboy’s.”

“Pleasure to meet you Bobby dear. I heard about this place from a friend of mine and this place does not disappoint.” Freddie praised as he and Bobby shook hands with each other.

“Thank you son. Built this place myself with my own two hands before moving the wife and son up here.”

“How long has this place been here?” asked Brian.

“Well came up here around 51, bought this property at around 53-54 and the doors finally opened by the start of the 60’s so…..about 16 years this club has been around. And she’s still going strong.”

“Impressive.” Freddie praised.

“What kind of drinks do you serve here?” asked Roger.

“Well if you mosey on down to the bar, my son Jensen will lay down everything we got. We mostly do beer but if you can take something stronger, we got that as well. Enjoy yourselves boys.” As Bobby walked away, the boys bid him farewell.

“He seemed nice.” John said.

“A friendly old man, kinda reminds me of Miami. Firm, strict, knows when you’re starting trouble Rog.”

“Watch it Fred.”

“Alright come on, I think we can all do with a drink right now.”

“Yes.”

“Or ten.” the band members walked over to the bar to see Jensen cleaning out a mug.

“Excuse me darling!” Freddie cried out to Jensen.

“Yes can I he—he-ha-ha……oh shit! You’re….you guys are Queen!”

“Yes. I take it you’re a fan of ours?” asked Brian.

“Y-Yeah.” Jensen squeaked.  He then cleared his throat before continuing, “I mean yes. When I first heard Bohemian Rhapsody for the first time, it changed my life on how I look at music. Not even some of my favorite bands can do what you guys do.”

“Well thank you darling. Bohemian Rhapsody was a masterpiece.” Freddie said.

“But a complete nightmare to make.” Roger added in.

“So what can I get for you guys?” asked Jensen.

“What all do you got?” asked John.

“Well you guys actually came on a good day. Wednesday nights are our special’s night. Every drink at half price. We’ve basically got every beer imaginable, but we also do vodka, gin and juice, margaritas. And of course we have the basic water and soda for those sensitive to the strong stuff.”

“Well then my darling, we’ll go ahead and take three of your finest beer and a vodka shot please.” Freddie said.

“Coming right up.” Jensen walked off to prep the drinks for the four young band members.

“He seems like a nice chap.” Brian said.

“He does indeed.” Agreed John.  Before another word could be said, Bobby soon came up on stage and said.

“And that was Carol Anne with ‘Sweet home Alabama’.” The crowd then cheered. “And now ladies and gents, it’s time to be graced by our very own special songbird. Please welcome our very own Southern Belle. (Y/n) (L/n)!” the crowd cheered and it was then the four English rockers soon saw a young woman coming up on stage.

She looked to be about John’s age, maybe a couple years younger.  In her hand was a 12 string acoustic, she got onto the stool and adjusted the mic.

*My POV*

God my nerves were really starting to get the best of me.  What if no one liked the song? Oh god I wish daddy could be here, he always knew just how to calm me down.  I adjusted the mic and plugged in my guitar.

“Hello everyone. I uhh—” I cleared my throat. “Tonight I’m gonna do something a little different than my last few performances. This is an original piece I’ve been working hard on. Hope you all like it.” I turned towards the ensemble band and nodded to them.  They nodded back and as I began playing the opening on my mama’s guitar, Aaron came in with the violin and Jack soon came in with the bass.  

By the chorus, Daniel came in with a soft drum beat and as I passionately sung out the chorus, I could already hear some people cheering or whistling at me.

She was driving last Friday on

Her way to Cincinnati on a

Snow white Christmas Eve Going home to see her mama and her daddy

With the baby in the backseat Fifty miles to go, and she was running low

On faith and gasoline It'd been a long hard year She had a lot on her mind,

And she didn't pay attention She was going way too fast Before she knew it she was spinning on a

Thin black sheet of glass She saw both their lives flash before her eyes She didn't even have time to cry She was so scared She threw her hands up in the air

Jesus, take the wheel Take it from my hands 'Cause I can't do this on my own I'm letting go So give me one more chance And save me from this road I'm on Jesus, take the wheel

*3rd Person POV*

Everyone was involved in hearing (y/n) sing.  Like her mama before her, the adults all whistled and cheered for the young girl for she truly did sound like her mama whenever she sang, maybe even better than her.  But the one most intrigued by her was the leading frontman of Queen.

“Just who is that talented young lady?” Freddie spoke out as (Y/n) played a small instrumental break in the first chorus.

“That there is (Y/n) (L/n). Her parents were known in this club. Her mama for her singing and her dad, God rest his soul, he was the world champion bull rider. She’s got a gift with that voice of hers.” Jensen said as he cleaned out a mug.

“She does indeed.” Freddie muttered in awe as he continued to watch (Y/n) sing the next part of the song.

There was one point of the song where she held out a note so long, it felt like she was running on endless air.  The crowd all hooted and hollered as she held that note before finishing the song.  Everyone soon cheered as loudly as they could while (Y/n) smiled under the spotlight and stood up from the stool and took a bow.

“Wow she was amazing.” Brian praised.

“I’ll say, she held that note for like 10 beats. Not even I can do that.” Roger said.

“Excuse me, Jensen.” Freddie called out.  Jensen who had just gotten done serving another round of drinks for a bachelor party, came back over and said.

“What’s up?”

“Where can we meet that talented young lady?” he asked him.  The other three band members looked at Freddie confused.

“She’ll be out back. That’s where she usually goes when things get too hectic here.”

“Thank you so much darling.” He dowsed the last of his vodka and stood up and walked out of the club with the other three members behind him.

*My POV*

After the performance I went outside to cool off. I stared up at the starry sky and whispered.

“I wish you could’ve seen it daddy. It seems I really wowed everyone tonight.”

“You did more than just that dear.” I froze and slowly turned around and—pinch me I must be dreaming.  Cause right there in front of me stood my all time favorite rock and roll band Queen.  I closed my eyes and shook my head trying to wake myself up from this dream and found that I wasn’t dreaming.

Freddie Mercury, Brian May, John Deacon and Roger Taylor were really right in front of me.

“You—you’re……”

“Yes darling we know who we are. But what I’m more interested in is who you are. How long have you had that lovely voice for?” Freddie said as he came up to me and actually wrapped an arm around me.

“Well I uhh—for a while I guess.”

“And that was an original song you sang back there?” Brian asked.

“Yeah just…..a little something I came up with. Was it bad?”

“Au contraire darling, it was unlike anything we have ever heard. And that’s saying something.” Freddie said.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. The way you managed to have utter control of your voice as you belted out certain words of the song. Only one other person has been able to do that and that’s me.” Freddie bragged.

“Umm hello what about me?” Roger piped in.

“Oh yes you and your dog whistle range. That takes skill too.” I softly chuckled.  Man this was definitely not how I pictured this night would go (well except in my dreams). “Now then (Y/n). How would you like to be an opening number for our concert?” wait what?

“What?” I asked.

“What?” I heard the other three echo back.

“You’ve got the voice, the talent, you are too good for just singing at the clubs. What better way than to finally dive in and take this opportunity.”

“Uhh Fred can we talk to you for a second?” John soon spoke up.

“Just stay tight for a moment (Y/n) dear.” Freddie said as he bopped my nose before walking back towards his bandmates.  Okay what the hell just happened?

*3rd Person POV*

Freddie and the boys walked a few feet away from (Y/n) so that she couldn’t hear them.

“Fred are you crazy right now?” Roger hissed softly.

“What?”

“We can’t just go picking up random singers off the streets and ask them to open up for us!”

“I agree with Roger. No offense, but I don’t think Reid or even our tour manager Bill will go along with this.” Brian added.

“You don’t believe she’s worth giving a shot too?” Freddie asked.

“No, no it’s not about that. She is talented, beyond talented. We just—can’t do something like this. Picking up a random teenager and ask her to leave everything behind for the rest of our tour.”

“They do have a point Freddie. Plus how do we know she even wants this? I mean maybe she just sings for fun. To be honest I never thought we were that serious till our first album went on the shelf.” Deacy said.

“Okay first off that hurts Deacy dear. How dare you think that. And number 2, I have a feeling she does want it. She may not physically show it but there’s something in her eyes that show that she wants a chance at the real spotlight. And who am I to crush a fellow singer’s dream? Especially one as beautiful and adorable as her, just look at her!” they all turned towards her. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get an additional family member in our rag-tag band.”

“Whoa wait hold on now you’re saying we need another person involved with Queen?” Roger snapped.

“I’m thinking broadly Roger dear. Don’t be so dramatic about it darling. Now then, are you three with me?” Brian, Roger and John looked at each other and Deacy was the first to speak up.

“You’ll never let it go either way. I’ll say yes.” Fred smiled before turning to Brian.

“I mean—” he sighed heavily. “Okay fine, she can come with us. But only if her parents say it’s okay.”

“Well blondie?” Fred questioned as he turned to Roger.  Roger sighed heavily and said.

“I’m already ruled-out even if I say no.” Freddie cheered and hugged his bandmates before heading back over to (Y/n) to discuss his brilliant idea.

*My POV. 1 year later*

If you had told me that on the night I would perform my first original piece live before the people at Cowboys and then told me I would soon be standing before Queen, who not only saw me sing but also offered me the chance to perform alongside them, I would’ve called you crazy and laughed in your face.

But it happened.  With Jensen’s and uncle Bobby’s approval I was able to tour the rest of the North American tour with Queen.  I’ll admit it was frightening to perform in front of my first crowd of over 12,000 people, but once I got on that stage and just sang it felt good.

We had just gotten done doing a concert at the Hammersmith Odeon.  As par-celebration we all headed to a nearby pub the guys had rented out for the night and anyone who was involved with the concert was invited to come.

By 1am everyone was either completely drunk and were passed out on the floor, or they were having sex in the bathrooms. Wanting to perk myself up, I went to the restrooms to splash some cold water on my face but before I could walk around the corner toward the sinks I heard some girls talking.

“I mean don’t get me wrong Roger is amazing especially in the sack but why would he allow someone like her on stage?”

“Yeah all those songs she sings are soooooo boring!” I peeked around to see that the girls who were talking were some of Roger’s groupies.

“Queen is just being dragged by that little bitch who can’t sing for shit.”

“All her songs about Jesus or God or whatever. She doesn’t fit with them. I think they just pitied her so she could go on stage and sing her little country songs.” It was a stab to the heart.

I raced out of the bathroom and tried to contain my tears.  But it only got worse from there.  Walking pass the men’s bathroom were a few of the roadies who were talking about me.

“She brings to band down don’t you think? I mean her songs just aren’t up to par with where Queen is at. In fact I’ve seen sales going down at our concerts because of her.”

“Dorothy should’ve just stayed in Kansas singing for pubs. She’s nowhere near concert stadium material.” At that point a few tears ran down my face.

Was I? Was I really that bad? Did the guys really pity me? Was this all a big joke to them? I ran out the back way and just ran down through the streets of London.  

Not caring where I was going, or where I’d end up. I just figured the father I ran, the farther I would be away from those people and their cruel comments.

The next morning I was at my apartment (technically it was Freddie’s old apartment that he and his ex-girlfriend Mary had) lying on the couch holding the couch pillow close to me.  The things that the groupies and even some of the roadies said last night still rang through my head like a church bell.

Maybe I should give it up. I mean after all like they said, no one really listens to me perform.  So I decided to pack up my stuff and go back to America, back to Oklahoma, maybe try to get a job at Cowboy’s or something.  As I was packing up my last bag, the door suddenly opened and I heard Roger’s voice call out.

“Oi (n/n) you here?” shit why did Freddie have to give out spare copies of the keys?

“(Y/n) you in here?” I then heard Deacy’s voice speak up.  Oh great, not one but two of the Queens are here.

“Is everything okay poppet?” Brian’s voice echoed out. Great could this day get any worse?

“Everything’s fine.” I called out to them.  I quickly came out of my room and shut the door before walking towards the living room. “Hey guys what’s up?”

“Well you disappeared from the party last night darling so we came to see just why that was?” Freddie said.

“You didn’t sneak off with anyone last night did yah?” Roger teased.

“No! I—I felt kinda tired after last night’s concert so I just took a cab home.” I gave them a white lie.

“Why didn’t you tell one of us you were leaving? You know how dangerous the streets can be at night.” Roger said as he plopped himself on the couch.

“I’m not some fragile flower Rog. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can. I just can’t help it sometimes, you’ve become like another sister to me, plus Jensen made me promise to keep an eye on you less he shoot me in the arse.” I rolled my eyes as I chuckled.

“(Y/n) dear~” Freddie sang out as he peeked from the hallway. “If you don’t have anyone here, then why is your door shut?” oh shit.  I quickly turned towards him and he just grinned as he raced towards my room.

“Fred no! Don’t!”

“Oh so there is a handsome beast you’re trying to hide from us!” I ran behind him trying to stop him from getting in my room. “Oh-ho-ho this must be serious then, he not dressed or something?”

“No Freddie there’s no guy now please don’t go in my room!”

“Technically it was my room first so I get first—” he opened the door and that’s when he saw the suitcases.  “What’s all this?”

“I didn’t want you guys to see that.”

“So what were you planning on leaving without saying goodbye!?” By now I’ve seen Fred literally explode on some major temper tantrums but this—this wasn’t anger.  This was disappointment, and when Fred lowers his voice, looks you straight in the eye almost to the point where it’s like his eyes are piercing your soul, that really tears you up.

And you never want to make Freddie Mercury disappointed in you.  Cause let me tell you, it is the worst.

“Fred—”

“No, no, no. Please I would like to know as well.” Roger’s voice soon rung out.  I groaned internally as I turned to see the remaining three band members standing right outside my door.

Roger’s eyes glaring right at me with his arms crossed over his chest.  Brian’s eyes in shock at seeing the suitcases, and Deacy—he looked like he was about to cry.

“Well!” Roger snapped impatiently.

“Hey Rog lay off on her will yah?”

“Brian are you not as upset as we are about this?!” Fred asked.  At this point the three hotheads began screaming at each other.  God this was a nightmare!  I was hoping to just leave without any drama and now I’ve done and caused it!  I held my hands to my ears and shut my eyes trying to drown out their shouting and screaming.

Next thing I know I feel a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and there stands Deacy. His eyes soft, not looking at me in anger or disappointment.  He gestured with his head to follow him and the two of us snuck out of my room.

We both sat down on the couch, him sitting close to me as his arm wrapped around me.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked me.  I shook my head no.

“Umm…..I don’t know if I’ve totally ruined this but—could I get a hug?” a soft smile spread across his face and immediately his arms wrapped around me.

“You know you will always get a hug out of me sis.”

Since Deacy and I were the youngest members of the band, we kinda clicked more than the rest.  Guess our shy natures also kinda mixed in together so we kinda had our own special psychic bond with each other.  We always knew what the other was thinking or needed, we would pull the other aside when things got too chaotic (just like now cause I never liked getting or hearing fights).

His fingers stroked through my hair as I adjusted my head so that it rested over his heart.  We sat there in comfortable silence (well besides the still arguing hotheads in my bedroom).

“I’m not good enough for you guys.” I finally confessed.

“What?”

“I—I heard some of Roger’s groupies and even some of your roadies literally talk about how I don’t fit with you guys. That I’m not even that good. Or that you guys just pitied me in order to help me get on stage.”

“I knew those tramps would be trouble.” I heard him mutter.

“But they’re right.”

“No they’re not.”

“Open your eyes Deacy!” I removed myself from his embrace. “My music and Queen’s music they just—don’t mix. I don’t do hard rock songs like you guys do. No rock fans are gonna wanna hear me sing just plain country or folk songs for 20 minutes. They’ll just be going out to get beer or go shag till you guys come up. I’m boring!”

“You’re not boring. Those arseholes are boring. If they can’t withstand a 20minute first act then they shouldn’t even be at one of ours. Because we most certainly perform longer than that.”

“Well you guys give a performance, not just a show. For me; it’s just me and my guitar. I mean yeah there’s people that may like a song or two from mine. Hell you guys allowed me to have a song on A Day at the Races and News of the World. But—in person I’m plain.”

“You’re raw.” I looked up at him confused. “I don’t mean raw in the sense of bad or disgusting. I mean you’re vulnerable. You don’t do the flashy lights, the loud hard rock of drums, or extremely, overbearing, long ass guitar solos.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “It’s just you up on that stage. Just you and your guitar.”

“And people should see you as that.” We looked up and finally ceasing their arguments, Freddie, Roger, and Brian now stood there.  Freddie came up behind me, Brian knelt down in front of me, and Roger sat to my right.

“But they don’t.” Freddie began to massage my shoulders.

“Darling when I first heard you sing back in the states, It was like anything I’ve ever heard in a female singer. You have this rawness that can make anything a song. You could write a song about taking the piss and it’d be a hit.” I rolled my eyes.

“More like a flush down the sewers.”

“Oi you need to stop with the negative thinking!” Roger playfully growled as he took my head between his hands and playfully shook it, almost as if he were trying to shake out the negative thoughts out of my head.  I couldn’t help but laugh at his antics as I tried to free myself.

“Cut it our Rog!” I laughed.  He stopped then said as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Forget about what those rotter’s said. Never, ever doubt your talent. Because you have got something that not even Queen could ever have.”

“And just what is that?” I asked doubtfully.

“Rawness. Like John said, it’s just you up on stage. Most of the rockstars like us come up glammed out to the max, prance about the stage and do the headbanging hits. You—you connect with the audience just as yourself. And if people can’t see that, then they’re fools.”

“So you guys didn’t pity me when you asked me to join you guys?”

“Absolutely not! Whoever says that you just tell me and they’ll be dropped like yesterday’s rotten tomatoes.”

“Thanks you guys. I—I really needed that.”

“Hey, you’re part of this family now. We look out for each other.” Brian said as he gently took my hands in his, his thumbs gently stroking the back of them.

“There’s just one last thing that needs to be taken care of to ensure you’re feeling your normal happy self again.” Freddie said.

Oh no. Please not that!  At this point all four of them had the look of evil on their faces.

“No. Guys don’t you dare!”

“Too late lovie, we gotta make sure you’re back to your full-fledged happy self again. And we’ve got Jensen to thank for sharing with us your deep, dark secret.” I tried to make a run for it but it was too late, Brian trapped me in his long arms and soon I was gang tickled by Queen.

A couple weeks after that, we had just gotten done playing an arena in Houston, Texas.  Wiping the sweat off of my forehead (after not only doing a few of my own songs, but also joining alongside Queen playing guitar or piano) I accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh sorry I—wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s quite alright. Say you’re the young woman who just performed alongside Queen correct?” this man had a strong Tennessee accent.  From underneath his cowboy hat I could see sandy blonde hair and he had the most striking blue eyes.  He looked to be about his mid-40’s.

“Yes.” I said wearily.

“Oh sorry I know this must seem a bit creepy, please allow me to introduce myself. Stan Singer.” Wait what? Oh my god!

“Wait, Stan Singer? The Stan Singer, manager of Glen Campbell?”

“The very same, you a fan of his?”

“Yeah. My—my daddy first introduced me to him when I was just 5 years old.”

“Man has good taste.” We both laughed. “How long have you been performing with Queen?”

“A year.”

“A year? Now that I don’t believe.”

“Well truthfully I’ve been performing on stage back home in Oklahoma for a few years at a bar a family friend of mine owns. Cowboy’s.”

“No kidding. I was just there last month.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Quite a shindig that place.”

“Oh yeah, it gets crazy some days. But it’s the best place to go to.”

“Listen (Y/n), While I have enjoyed managing Glen and don’t get me wrong he’s a great guy and a great singer. I’m also looking out to see if there’s a next big thing I could help mold. And seeing you up on stage, you’ve got that special little niche in the realm of country singers. How about joining me for lunch so we can discuss a contract.”

“Me? You—you want to sign me up for a record deal?” I asked ecstatically.

“You’ve got something I’ve never heard from any male artist. Here’s my card, just give me a call whenever you’re ready to talk.” He handed me a business card and said his goodbyes as he tipped his hat at me.

Wow I—I can’t believe it.  I’m actually gonna get a real shot with my own manager.  And Glen Campbell’s manager, nonetheless.  I can’t believe this is actually happening to me.

Wait….what about the guys? What would they say? Would they be mad if I took this deal? Left them when we’ve already grown so close with each other?

During our bus ride to the next city of New Orleans, I was looking at Stan’s card debating whether I should call him or not.

“What’s that?” Roger spoke up.  He soon plopped down beside me with his arm over me. “Ooh a name and phone number! Already got yourself a groupie huh?” he teased as he nudged my shoulder.

“No Roger it’s nothing like that.” I nudged him back.

“Hey did I just hear (Y/n) got someone’s name and phone number?” Deacy soon piped in peeking his head from the curtains of his bunkbed.

“(Y/n) you sly little minx.” Freddie teased.  Oh man was I really not gonna miss this.

“Alright you guys lay off of her will yah. Now just who was it that gave you their phone number (Y/n)? Will there need to be any—talks we need to do with this boy?” Brian said.

“I already told Roger Bri, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it? I mean normally a guy wouldn’t give you his number unless he wants a date or something else.” Roger spoke. Deacy came up and slapped Roger over the head. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For being an idiot.”

“It’s a business card guys! For Stan Singer. Glen Campbell’s manager.”

“Wait I’ve heard of that guy. Yeah he’s like one of the best country singers out there.” Roger said.

“Yeah. Well Stan actually saw the show tonight and well he—he offered to be my manager. He wants to sign up a contract with me.”

“Oh my god darling yes!” Freddie cheered as he came up and embraced me tightly.

“Congratulations (Y/n).” praised Brian.

“But—” I started off.  Fred separated from me and he said.

“But what dear? You’re finally on your way! This should be a celebration!”

“But what about us? You guys? What if—what if this is the last time we’ll ever see each other?” at that point the guys grew quiet. They looked at each other and that’s when Deacy spoke up.

“The future is uncertain. Maybe someday we will meet again. But (Y/n), if you don’t take this shot now you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“It’s like Deacy’s song says. Time to spread your wings and fly away.” Brian said as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked between the four of them and they all had the same look.

Acceptance and love.

I felt my eyes watering up and I choked out.

“I’ll miss you guys.” They immediately hugged me and told me they would miss me too.  We remained in that group hug for the rest of the night till we arrived in New Orleans later the next day.

As soon as we got to the hotel, the guys sat with me as I called Stan up and told him that I would like to have lunch with him to discuss the contract.  Stan agreed to fly down to New Orleans and once that date was made, the guys brought me in one last final group hug telling me how proud they were of me, that they loved me and knew that I would become big in my own way.

On June 27th, 1977 I preformed my last concert with Queen as their opening act and the following day, I met with my new manager Stan Singer and together we went over the rules of my contract.

By the end of the 1970’s into the 1980’s my name had flown to the top of the charts in country artists.  So far in the 3 years of my growing career I had toured America twice for my 2 albums I had released under Sony records.

As I expected I was mostly popular in the southern states where country music reigned supreme on the radio.  But I did have some fans in the northern, Mid-west and western countries but I mostly toured around the South.

I was now performing back in my home state of Oklahoma to an arena of 20,000 people.  I had just gotten done preforming my biggest hit “Jesus take the wheel” and everyone went crazy for it.

“Thank you!” I turned and saw one of my roadies hand me a stool and I thanked him before setting it down right at the edge of the stage.  I adjusted the mic stand as I sat down. “This is a new song that I wanted to do especially for you my home sweet home. So you guys will be the first to hear this song coming up on my next album.” The crowd cheered. “But this song is also dedicated to four special men in my life. Without them—I wouldn’t even be up on this stage before all of you. It’s called Ready now.”

Then with just me on the guitar I began to sing my newly finished song “Ready now”.  As I sang the song, during the long instrumental breaks, I thought back to the guys.

All the fun memories I had with them while on the road with them.  Being there with them during their recordings, getting to do a song on their albums, or hanging out at the bars together after the shows.

Play video

You saw through me All this time I'd forgotten People are kind

I was hurting And you knew So you showed me What to do

You said, "I will listen Tell it all When you're finished We'll talk more"

But I didn't know how So we took it in turns And to my surprise We found my words

Feet firm on the ground We stood hand in hand The world seemed to tell me That I have a plan

Together we sang I'm ready now

Something new Something strange Ten feet taller I had changed

I believe you I'm not wrong Oh it suits me To feel strong

You said, "I will listen Tell me it all You don't like the ending Then we'll find on that's yours"

Oh, how did you know That's all we need A promise of hope Is enough to feel free

Feet firm on the ground We stood hand in hand And I told the world That I have a plan

Together we sang I'm ready now

By the end of the song, I heard the crowd cheer and as I looked up at the ceiling I did a silent thank you to the boys.  Even though we would never see each other in our career’s again, I would always keep their memories alive in my heart and mind.

Without them, I would never have been ready to even get to this point.  And I will always be grateful to Queen.

[thenbkim]

Heeey so, i did a thing! Another Korrasami oneshot, this time an AU version. Hope this makes someone smile.

Sorry for the long post and possible grammar mistakes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shared Walls

Work wasn't easy for Asami today, specially when she crossed ways with her ex boyfriend, at her favorite restaurant, well, they're favorite restaurant, at lunch break. It wasn't a bad break up but seeing him with another girl, while she was single and quite needy for some cuddles, was definitely a bummer. As if that wasn't bad enough, her new project almost got lost when a rookie dropped a boiling cup of coffe on her laptop. Lucky for her, the project was already saved on the main server. It was time to call it a day and go home. Future Industries would provide her a brand new laptop the next day, otherwise, how could the head creator engineer work? 

At home, the only thing Asami could think was "Why did I move from my parents house?! At this time, dinner would be ready…". She was a smart girl, she knew how to cook a delicious meal for herself, but she was tired. The day drained her energies. She needed the fuel for her stomach and the comfort only food could provide, so she took her jacket off, tied her long dark hair up in a ponytail and went to the kitchen, to figure out what to cook. 

As she was grilling some steak and fixing a salad, she put her phone on the kitchen counter and turn on the music. First on the playlist was SIA's "Elastic Heart", she had to sing along:

"And another one bites the dust

But why can I not conquer love?

And I might've thought that we were one

Wanted to fight this war without weapons

And I want it and I wanted it bad

But there were so many red flags

Now another one bites the dust

Yeah let's be clear, I trust no one"

As she kept singing, a voice on the other side of the wall, the one shared with the next door apartment, tuned with hers:

"You did not break me

I'm still fighting for peace"

She heard it and continued the duet:

"Well I've got thick skin and an elastic heart

But your blade it might be too sharp

I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard

Yeah I may snap and I move fast

You won't see me fall apart

'Cause I've got an elastic heart"

They finished the song, and laughter could be heard in both sides of the wall. Asami loved the voice, it was sweet and the pitch was perfect. She somehow got the courage to say through the wall:

"You have a beautiful voice… wanna pick the next song?"

She never believed an answer would come from the stranger next door but for her surprise, she heard:

"You have a great voice too… do you like Alanis? How about "Ironic"?"

"Sounds perfect… just goes with my day… hit it!"

She felt a warm feeling inside her with that precious voice: 

They sang while Asami finished fixing her dinner, and that made her heart feel a lot lighter. When she finished, the voice shout:

"Hey… care to join me for dinner time? Our balconies are shared too…" 

Asami blushed a little and said "Sure… i would love the company…"

Both of them sat in their respective balconies, with their dinner. When Asami was setting her table, she heard one excited "hey, over here!" and a waving hand on the right side of the frame. 

"Name is Korra, by the way… i guess i'm your new neighbor".

Asami chuckled a little and answered: 

"It's really nice to meet you, new neighbor… i kinda figured it, since the old ladie that lived there usually asked me to stop singing… I'm Asami, by the way."

They sat down, close to the shared wall, right by the window frame, so they could talk with no need for shouting. 

"So, Asami, how come I'm lucky enough to have a neighbor that sings so well and shares my music taste?!"

"I could ask you the same, you know? But usually i sing when my day wasn't quite as I expected... "

"Oh… rough day, huh? Wanna share it with a stranger? I'm a good listener…"

"Oh I just lost a computer to a flying cup of coffe and find out my ex is really happy with his new girlfriend…"

"Yikes… i can only hope you get your computer fixed soon and… you single?" Asami almost could hear the grin forming on Korra's face.

"My company will provide a new one, but still… i got so angry that I ruined my own day, and scared a young rookie… and yes, I'm single." She giggled after saying it. "How about your day, Korra? Mind sharing a little about yourself as well?"

"Oh… I work at the gym down the street, martial arts instructor. I had a good day until this guy thought he could teach me my own work… if there's something i can't handle well is mansplanning… so, i beat the crap out of him in class… everyone enjoyed it, but he complained to the owner… so she called me out. That kind of bummed me a little…"

"Sorry you had to deal with that… man can be really obnoxious. So… martial arts… you must be one of those healthy persons, with excelent body shape…" Asami was playfull, but bit her bottom lip trying to imagine how the neighbor looked like.

"Hahah, jokes on you, i love to brag about my body! I am in excelent shape, thank you very much, but healthy… well, say that to my noodles and beer."

"Oh, i wish i had some instant noodles and beer here, would've given me a little more time to rest… and i heard you bragging, but I'll believe you when i see you…"

"Well… can't help with the instant noodles because i made the dough my mother taught me. If I knew i would have such company, i would've made more… but i can help you with the beer, wait a minute…"

Asami heard Korra get up and some noises of bottles clinging, again another "hey" and a hand appeared on the frame, holding a beer and a card. 

"Here, some beer to make up for your lousy day and... get the card too… add my number and maybe I'll prove to you how fit i am."

Asami blushed and accepted the beer and card. She opened the bottle and added the number to her contact list. 

"Thanks, i needed the beer… I'll send you a text so you can save my number."

As soon as she sent it, she received back a photo message, and that almost made her spill the beer. The girl on the photo had the most amazing body she ever saw. Brown hair and skin, with blue eyes.

"Wow, is that really you?! Are YOU single?!" They laughed and Korra said:

"Yes and yes. I told you i look fine…"

"Fine? You look gorgeous… here, since you sent me a pic…"

Asami chose one of hers where her hair is down, she's wearing her favorite skirt and blouse with this red scarf, her eyes green and shining. Immediately she got an answer from the other side:

"Wow, you are hot!... Sorry… i… well, you are!" Korra felt herself blush and Asami laughed, but felt good with the reaction…

"Thank you for being sincere… it's a little late though… I'm really glad you kept me company tonight, thanks for listening, for the beer and for the picture" Giggles.

"You are welcome. And thank you as well for the amazing evening… and for the picture. Talk to you tomorrow, neighbor?"

"Absolutely!"

They said their good nights and went to bed, Asami felt like her day wasn't a problem anymore, meeting Korra, even through a wall, made her feel wanted somehow, and comforted. She layed down with a smile on her face. Korra felt the same on the other side, the comfort that girl caused on her just made up for the horrible day. She jumped on the bed and hugged her pillow with joy.

The next day came and the routine was back, Asami woke up, took a shower, made breakfast and got ready for work, all with a smile on her face, showing how light and happy she felt. 

As she opened the door, the neighbor opened hers and got out of her apartment as well. Their eyes met and both blushed, smiling at each other. They went to the elevator and the buffy girl broke the silence:

"Hi, hot neighbor."

Asami was as red as her scarf, she looked down so Korra couldn't see her red cheeks, and then she said a shy "hello" to the girl in sweat pants and blue tank top. 

As they got out of the building, both started walking on the same direction. It was a quiet walk, but they kept close to each other, both with silly smiles. Korra's destination came first so she stopped and Asami kept going. Korra immediately shouted:

"Another duet tonight?"

Asami stopped and looked back. Still smiling she said:

"Looking forward to it. I'll bring the beer today."

She turned back to her way, and Korra     followed with her eyes until Asami took a turn and got out of sight. 

They couldn't believe how a bad day could take a good turn because of a stranger on the other side of the wall. 

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Reality strikes

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 20 | Part 21 Reality strikes | Part 22 >

Disclaimer: Some angst

Author’s note: No idea what to write here today other than it’s 7.52 AM, so: good morning! 

Word count: 2.723

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

Another year reaches its end and I’m sitting here with mixed emotions. Tonight I’ll be celebrating with friends. Meaning a house filled with a whole horde of kids and a few slightly boozed up adults.

I’ll be the only childless adult. I’ll be the only unmarried adult. And with my dear chocolate cake right now working abroad, I’ll also be the only adult that will show up alone.

It is what it is. Life’s reality. But I must admit that it sets a tiny sad note to an otherwise quite lovely year. I lost one love, but gained a far better one in return. I now know my parents better than I probably ever have - and what joy it has been to share my life with them again. Also, I am writing my first novel and that is truly a dream come true.

Looking at this from the bright side; it does give me some new goals for the next year and I can’t wait to smash next year out of the park. Do you have any new years resolutions, dear readers?

Ali

‘9..8..7…’

*BBZZZZTT-BZZZZTTTT*

With hasty fingers I grasped for my phone, hearing the count down quickly proceed. Henry bear. It was silly to feel relieved to see his name. 

He didn’t forget. 

‘5..4..3..’

Putting him on speakers I laughed as my friends had bottles of champagne in hand, thumbs on the ready-to-pop corks. Around us excited, albeit slightly sleepy, children were watching with expectant eyes, their arms hugging their favourite stuffies. It was special for them to be allowed to stay up so late, which only added onto the magic of New Years eve.

‘2..1!!!’

PffffPOP - ’Oh fuck..!!’

A cork shot out in a wild direction and near hit Gisele in the face, everyone gasping as the poor woman blinked in silent terror. Ooph..that could have gone wrong.

‘HANKK..come on!’ She laughed after recapitulating a bit, her shocked lips turning up in amused smile. And just like that the mood was good again, everyone starting to give each other kisses and hugs. After clinking my glass with a few friends I quickly walked off to the quiet of the hallway, bringing my ear back to my phone, Henry expectantly waiting for my voice.

‘Hen..’ My voice was cracking.

‘ALI, YOU OKAY? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN?’

‘Haha..’ I sniffled back a little tear. ‘No no. Just Hendrik being a fool..*sniff* with the champagne. Nobody’s hurt though.’

‘Hey baby.’ He said, still mildly concerned, hearing me sniffling back tears. ‘Hi.’ I mumbled, looking over my shoulder to see the party getting in full swing, glasses refilled and kids jumping with excitement, everyone dancing on the music that was playing on the tv.

‘Happy new year.’ I whispered, hiding another quiet sob.

‘Happy new year baby.’ He sighed. ‘Gosh I wish I could be there. I miss you terribly.’

‘Same..*sniff* sorry about this. It’s just the wine I think.’

‘Hmm..it’s okay baby. I’m going to kiss allll those tears away when I get back, okay?’ His promise sounded extra bitter, because that would take another three weeks. Three long weeks before he’d get back here for two days, only to fly back again immediately after. But then again, trying to see it on a more positive note; that gave me three weeks to put some pressure on getting that hiatus approved. And that was do-able, right?

—

‘Hi Ali.’ Mrs. Mulligan smiled, lighting up another cigarette, the office building quiet as most employees were out running reports. It was mid January and though I hoped there would be good news, I never could be quite so sure with Mrs. Mulligan. The bad ass Chief editor was hard for me to read. Was she happy? Enthused? Taking the piss? Or being for real? Sinking down in the seat opposite of her desk I gave her a pensive look.

‘Hi Mrs. Mulligan.’ I said, trying my best at returning the smile she offered me. She chuckled. ‘You worry too much Ali. Really.’ She sucked on her cigarette, the tip burning bright orange. Licking her lips she shifted forward a bit. ‘So how is Henry?’

Of course, small talk. I sighed and shrugged. ‘Bit difficult to tell with his busy schedule and the time zone issue, but, I think he’s doing alright. At least they haven’t gotten any delays thus far.’

Mrs. Mulligan turned in her chair, nodding. ‘Well let’s hope that you won’t distract him, when you join him.’ She quickly took another inhale, smiling as the realisation of her words hit me. ‘Really?!’ I sat up a bit in my chair, looking at her with widened eyes. ‘Really really. Though of course we still want to get plenty of updates. You’re one of our best reporters and..as you know..we islanders are close-knit. Even Superman can’t steal you away from us for good.’ She winked, blowing the smoke out high above her head.

I gasped quietly and I couldn’t help but laugh, the relief this news brought being just what I needed.

‘Thank you so much Mrs. Mulligan.’ I smiled.

‘You’re welcome Ali.’ She winked, then pressed her burned up cigarette down in her ash tray. Her way of saying; this meeting is over. Quickly I got up and fumbled through my jean pocket to retrieve my phone; I had to tell him! I had to tell him!

—

But I couldn’t tell him. He didn’t have reception, again. And when I tried once more later that night all I got was a quick message from him, sent from an unknown number, telling me they had some technical difficulties now they were out in the wilderness. He’d try to get a moment to call later that week, but he couldn’t promise anything. And that he missed me. Terribly.

I hated it. This. The distance. The time zones. The difficulty to reach him. The fact I couldn’t share the happy news with him. At least the good thing was that it was just one more week till I’d see him. And we’d better find a way to tackle this problem once and for all..and quickly..because with every lonely night in my bed the unease in my mind grew; like this, it simply couldn’t work. No matter how hard we both tried. If we couldn’t be together, then this relationship was doomed.

—

Once more I was standing here at the airport, looking through the arriving crowd, their suitcases rolling over the grey tiles of the hall as the cold draft made me huddle closer in my thick wool jacket. I couldn’t wait to be back in Henry’s warm embrace again, especially after being almost a month apart. It had been simply too long.

More and more people flooded the airport, loved ones embracing one another, business men back on their phones, their faces stuck in expressions of true importance. But no Henry.

*BZZZ BZZZZ*

Henry bear: Sweetheart, running a little late. Issue with my baggage.

Seeing the message on my phone, made me all the more frustrated. He was here! In this darn building! And what was up with this baggage? He really didn’t need to bring any hold luggage for just the few days he was going to be here right? Groaning in silent frustration I saw an old lady in the corner of my eye, her small blue eyes also looking over the crowd with a sense of worry. As if she couldn’t find the person she was waiting for.

Using some passersby as an excuse to move in her direction, I smiled at her, attracting her attention. ‘Picking someone up?’ I asked, finding her worried look melt in a friendly smile. ‘Hello dear. Eh..yes..my son..he was supposed to be on this flight, but I don’t see him..’ She furrowed her thin eyebrows and looked back at the sliding door, the flood of passengers slowly becoming thinner and thinner.

‘Well that makes two of us. Though I am not waiting for my son, but my boyfriend. He just texted me there’s some issues with the baggage, so maybe your son has similar problems.’ I also looked back at the sliding door, the door now sliding fully closed.

No more people coming through.

It shouldn’t have hurt so. But it did all the same. After weeks of hoping, wishing, waiting, it was all the more frustrating to have to wait even more because of something silly like an issue with the luggage. And it was especially frustrating to think that I only had so few hours with him before he had to head back again to continue shooting.

The woman turned back towards me and looked me up and down. ‘Aren’t you…’ She squinted her eyes slightly, then beamed up as recognition hit. ‘..Henry’s girl?’ I looked at her, seeing those small but warm blue eyes peering at me, her wrinkly face lined with years of many smiles and few frowns. I laughed. ‘Correct. I’m Alice. From the west side of town, work for the local newspaper.’

The woman nodded, then near jumped on her feet when the door opened and two men came strolling in. First a man who probably was her son. And then Henry. A very tired to the bone Henry, his day old beard unshaven and hair slightly disheveled. It was a silver lining that most people had long left the hall, making the odds of someone snapping a picture of him in this state just that bit smaller.

As the two men strode over towards us it became apparent that there was some mutual recognition.

‘Mrs. Penny?’ Henry blinked at the woman who was giving her son a quick but big hug. Pulling back she tilted her head slightly, taking in his disheveled look. ‘Little Henry. Look at you dear boy! All grown up! And you need a shave!’ She winked then directed at me: ‘I was his drama teacher.’

I wished to smile at her, but before I could I felt two large arms wrap around me, a head dipping down in the crook of my neck.

Henry.

Home at last.

Running my hands over his back I looked through the confines of his big embrace at the lady called Mrs. Penny, her son checking his watch as if he wasn’t quite willing to wait a moment longer. I felt Henry pull back and for the briefest of moments his lips brushed over mine.

‘Hi.’ He breathed, smiling at me warmly, albeit with great tiredness.

‘Hi bear.’ I smiled, stroking a thumb over his cheek.

Turning back towards his drama teacher Henry reached out his arms, wishing to receive a hug from her as well. She gladly accepted, snickering a bit as Henry was near twice her height and triple her weight. The tiny lady and the huge bear of a man.

‘Mom, it’s time to go. We need to get eh…’ The son licked his lip as he looked at Henry, a glint of jealousy or distaste lingering in his eyes. Thankfully his mom was quick to agree. ‘Yes yes. Time is fleeting! It is good to see you Henry and I love your work. Though gotta practise that smile talking a little.’ She tutted, pinching his cheek with some motherly affection. Henry laughed and shook his head. ‘It’s good to see you Mrs. Penny and..please..let us not hold you up.’ Henry nodded at the other man, who was practically sneering at him.

—

‘Something happened with that guy?’ I asked, driving us home in his dad’s car - anything better than my mom’s car. Henry sighed. ‘Got our bags mixed up and he just kept saying my bag was his, refusing to open it and compare the contents.’ 

He sounded so done with it all, voice low and dry, eyes peering out over the icy cold waves hitting the frosty shoreline. ‘Sounds like a pain in the ass.’ I frowned, looking at him a bit better. ‘How are you Hen?’ A question that I could easily answer myself; awful. Because he sure as hell looked awful, his whole aura dark and gloomy, perfectly fitting the weather outside.

‘Could use a nap.’ He yawned, looking back over at me and trying his best to offer me a smile, the joy not reaching his eyes.

Oh my poor bear.

‘Then let’s nap and talk later.’

‘Yea..’ He reached out a hand and squeezed the hand I kept at the gear stick. ‘I’m terribly glad to be with you again. I am. Just..tired..’s all. Sorry if I..-’ 

‘Hen..it’s okay. Relax. Close your eyes for a bit and I’ll tell you when we’ve arrived.’

‘Okay.’ He slowly nodded, immediately closing his eyes, settling more comfortably in his seat.

‘Okay.’ I whispered.

—

Running my hand through his curls, his head resting on my lap, I folded over another page of the book I was reading. We were sitting / sleeping on his parents couch, his father upstairs going about his business, his mom out for tea with a friend. The house was nice and quiet, all sound reaching my ears being Henry’s slow breathing and the buzz of the dishwasher running in the kitchen.

He looked tired even while sleeping.

Oh poor, poor bear.

It was then he shifted a little, heavy eyelids slowly blinking open and his lip curling up in a tiny smile. ‘MMmmmm…’ He hummed, nuzzling his nose in my thighs, making me giggle. ‘Hennn! Cheeky!’ He chuckled in turn, his voice deep with sleep. ‘Am I still dreaming?’ ‘No, you’re not. I’m here. And you’re home. And it’s 11.30, in case you wonder.’

He sighed deeply and nodded, shifting so he was laying flat on his back, his ocean blue eyes looking up at me. ‘Hi.’ He rumbled. ‘Hi.’ I sniffled, tracing my fingers through his curls again, massaging his scalp ever so slightly. ‘Mmm..I missed you. Your hands..’ He slowly sat up, moving his nose into my chest, sniffing a long line up into my neck. ‘..your smell.’

I giggled again. ‘Okay then Geralt.’ He smiled and sat back a little, cupping my cheek. ‘It was worth every delay, every sleepless hour, every luggage swap annoyance.’ And then he placed the first proper kiss on my lips. Soft and loving, as if testing again how I feel like. How our lips can slot together perfectly.

And what a good kisser he was. Hmm.

Humming gladly I didn’t wish the kiss to end, but he eventually did break it, chuckling softly when I leaned into him a little more. ’How are you sweet one?’ He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, looking studiously at my face. As if relearning what I looked like.

Gosh we had really been apart for too long. If anything this had to be prevented from here on at any cost. At any..

‘OH! I have news actually.’ I smiled at him, my worried face turning up with pure joy. He also started to smile. ‘Does this mean that..?’ - ‘Yes. Or well. I don’t know what you’re assuming here. But eh..yea..I received green light for my hiatus. So..’

‘AAAHH YES!’ He let out an excited cheer and quickly pulled me in for another kiss. Deeper this time. And longer. Until both of us had to pull apart for the simple fact of requiring fresh air in our lungs. He was properly beaming. ‘Oh baby..oh…so..when and..?’ He babbled, keeping my face close to his. ‘Now, right now.’ I laughed, feeling his aura lighten up, the dark storm clouds pulling away, his eyes finally starting to shine with happiness.

—

The next morning we had our usual morning walk and it almost felt like it had for all those months before he left. Albeit that there was no happy Akita trodding ahead of us - Kal was still in Canada. With gloved hands interlinked we stepped in steady rhythm, small clouds coming from our mouths as we talked and laughed into the cold morning air.

‘You better pack real warm. It’s really, really cold over there.’ He smiled, pulling me closer and kissing my cold red nose. ‘Mmpff can’t wait.’ I grumbled - hating the cold, but accepting it if that meant I could finally be with Henry. ‘Hahaha. Oh sweetheart. Now...’ He halted us before a large blue slatted house. ‘Are you ready to move in with me?’ He raised a teasing eyebrow and I poked him playfully in the ribs.

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

--

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Moth Wings 3

Pairing: AltMal, Altair+Desmond Rating: Explicit Tags: vampires, romance, servant AU, music AU, fluff, angst, flangst Status: WIP

Happy Halloween! What’s better than an update to some vampires to celebrate?! And we get Malik. Finally. Here to be a charming vampire, what’s not to like? If you want to read them making out already you can sub to my patreon, where they’re already together (check out my blog main page) otherwise it’ll be a bit.

--

Desmond was two. 

He was finally learning to walk. He looked like he should have been able to from birth but it still took a while to get it.

It was Altair’s nightmare.

Now he could wander. Or fall. Or bump into things. Or climb something.

Altair sometimes woke up in the middle of the day in a cold sweat after finding Desmond at the bottom of the stairs in the castle in his stress nightmares.

He wasn’t speaking yet though, despite Altair’s efforts. The master wasn’t upset about it but the mistress was. She kept telling Altair he needed to try harder. Altair didn’t know what else to do. He talked to Desmond all the time, asked him questions, engaged him in what they did during the night.

Altair was heading for bed one night. He’d put Desmond to sleep before the sun rose and he would sleep all day without issue. The master was waiting by his closet. He put his eyes down. “Master, did you need something?��

“Yes. We are having a guest arrive today. Before sunset. I require you to meet them in the light and have his attendants bring his sarcophagus to one of the empty chambers here in the castle.”

Altair half looked up, confused. He looked into the master’s chest. “A guest?” he asked.

“Yes. An old associate of mine. This is an important task, understand?”

“Yes, master. Do… do you need me to stay awake all day to wait for them?”

“He won’t arrive until late in the day. And it is important you are rested to care for Desmond. So rest, but not so deeply you don’t wake before dusk.”

“Yes, master,” Altair bowed. He didn’t straighten until the master was gone and went to his own chambers elsewhere in the castle.

He got ready for bed but slept poorly, knowing he needed to wake early. He woke well before dusk, going out to the castle steps and sitting, waiting. The sky was slowly turning orange and pink and Altair drifted in and out of a dozing state after his bad sleep. 

He started awake as he heard the sound of hooves on the path leading up the castle and scrambled to his feet. He waited. He shook his head, sure he was dreaming at what was coming up the path. It was a carriage being pulled by...vertically black and white striped horses. Four of them, pulling a black carriage being manned by two drivers and he could see three men hanging off the back as well.

The carriage came around the drive and stopped in front of the stairs. “Hail,” one of the drivers called.

“Hail,” Altair lifted a hand, staring at the striped horses. “I take it you’re the guest we’re expecting.”

“Yes,” the driver got down. “His majestic Malik ibn-Selim el-Jama al-Sayf of the Sunfaire Abode.”

“Oh,” that meant nothing to Altair. “The master is sleeping currently. I’m to show you where to bring the sarcophagus.”

“Very good,” and then he spoke another tongue to the others and the three men got off the back of the carriage. They were huge dark skinned men with wide shoulders and biceps as large as Altair’s torso. They opened the back of the carriage, talking to each other. The second driver joined them and he was as big as the men in the back. They dragged a sarcophagus halfway out of the carriage and then they hoisted the wooden box up onto their shoulders. The first driver looked back at Altair, “Lead the way then,” he said.

Altair was so stunned he couldn’t move for a moment and then he nodded. “Yes. Yes come follow me,” he beckoned. They followed him, climbing the stairs as Altair quickly opened the front door for them. “I assume your master is sleeping as well?” he asked the driver.

“Yes. We’ve been trying to make the going as easy as possible,” he said.

“This way,” and he led them down the hallway to where there were empty rooms, close to Desmond’s room too. He opened a few doors into empty rooms to find the nicest one and motioned the pallbearers inside. They went in and laid the sarcophagus down gently. They spoke to each other in the language Altair didn’t know briefly and one undid a few latches on the box and then they all filed back out.

“And where may we put the zebras? And where are we staying?” the driver asked.

“There’s a stable around the side. And… I don’t know where you will be staying. Your master will have to arrange that with mine.”

“Hmmm, very well.” More unknown words were spoken and then they all leff, leaving Altair alone in the hallway. Did he go after them? No. That didn’t seem right. He wasn’t needed to help them. 

While he’d been waiting for their guest it had gotten dark out. Desmond would be waking soon and Altair hadn’t eaten yet. He quickly went to the kitchen to grab something for breakfast before making his way back to Desmond’s room. As he was, eating the cheese and meat stuffed bun, a door opened. Altair froze when a figure he didn’t recognize stepped out from the room. He quickly looked down, realizing it was the master’s guest.

“That was the worst day’s sleep I’ve had in centuries,” he heard the vampire grumble. “You there,” his voice was directed towards him.

“Yes, sir?” he kept his eyes down and put the bun behind his back even as the vampire’s shoes came into his sight on the floor.

“You are the help here?”

“In a way, sir,” he said. “I look after young master Desmond.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I assume I’m too early for breakfast then?”

“The sun set a moment ago, sir. The rest of the coven has yet to wake.”

“I see-- would you look up? Didn’t William teach his help to look at who they speak to,” he sounded annoyed.

Altair would rather look than make a vampire angry. He looked up at Malik. “He prefers I keep my eyes down,” he said truthfully.

Malik rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath that while he couldn’t understand did sound a lot like ‘of course he does’ in an annoyed way. He wasn’t like the other members of the coven. Malik was fairly dark skinned for a vampire with a thick head of black hair that was messed from sleeping but not so unruly he couldn’t comb it back with his fingers. Like the others he had pure black eyes but they didn’t seem as sharp. Maybe it was because of the black painted lines around the edges even if they were a bit smudged. It took Altair a moment to recognize it. He’d only ever seen ladies wear eye makeup before. “Well you can show me where the dining room is then, yes? I can wait for them.”

“Of course, sir,” Altair nodded and turned on a heel and headed for the dining room. “The kitchen is down through there if you don’t want to wait,” he pointed at the stairwell leading down when he brought the vampire to the dining room.

“I shall be a courteous guest and wait,” the vampire said and sat.

“Very good, sir. If you’d excuse me,” he bowed.

“Where are you going?”

Altair paused before he left. “I’m going to get young master Desmond.” He was looking at the table, not at the new vampire.

“Silly me, of course. My sleep made me forgetful. Off you go,” and Altair retreated, stuffing the rest of the bun into his mouth on his way back.

Desmond was groggy and whiny when Altair picked him up from his bed. “Come now, Des, its time for breakfast,” he bounced the boy gently to wake him up. The little vampire yawned and behind him his weak wings fluttered and closed against his back again. “Yes yes, very cute, but it’s time to wake up.”

He got Desmond dressed and made sure he was awake before taking him to the dining room. Some other members of the coven were already there, talking with Malik. Altair just sat in a chair at the far end of the table with the baby quietly. He was only allowed to do this until the Matron came for meals and took Desmond away, then he was to go away until the meal was over.

Desmond was more awake now and did not want to be in Altair’s lap. So he let him stand next to the table and he bounced up and down to see over it before climbing into the chair next to Altair and standing on it to get a view of the dining room. Altair kept a hand near his back in case he needed to catch him. He could walk but not very well and sometimes still fell onto his butt or knees. When they were alone it was fine but here? As more of the coven was coming in for breakfast? If the child fell he’d be done for.

Eventually the Matron came to breakfast. She cooed at Desmond as she picked him up from the chair, ignoring Altair entirely. He slid off the chair as some went to go get a fresh meal for the rest of the coven. He waited outside the dining room for meal to be over and took Desmond when the Matron left the dining room.

Back in Desmond’s room Altair tried, unsuccessfully, to engage Demond in talking. He’d read Desmond a thousand books and sang him songs and talked about musical instruments and theory and anything to encourage the boy to speak. To at least want to tell Altair to do it again. Even just to say Altair’s name. Or call his mother. But like all the other days it didn’t happen and Altair ended up laid on the rug in annoyance watching Desmond scribble with colored crayon on scrap paper. He did love to draw at least. And he loved when Altair sang to him. Even if Altair was not a good singer. Sometimes he even made noises like he was singing along with Altair, little squeaks and beeps of noise.

Maybe that was something.

When the sun rose he put Desmond to bed and went down to the town. He was the master’s servant but he wasn’t a captive. They’d just made it very clear if he left and never returned they would hunt him down and kill him. So long as he came back.

His father’s workshop was attached to his family home. He’d been training to make violins from his father when he’d been volunteered. His father had always been an early riser and Altair wasn’t surprised to find him there, stringing bows with cat gut and waxing them flat. Umar was surprised to see him. “Altair, what are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too,” Altair said tiredly.

Umar was chastised, “Hello, son. What brings you here? Had enough of the castle life?” it was a minor tease but went right to Altair’s gut. Did they think he was pampered up there or something? Surely they had to realize he wasn’t a guest in the home of a vampire. He didn’t say anything about that. He just ignored the question entirely.

“May I have one of the violins?”

“Huh?” Umar was confused.

“I’ve told you I’m looking after the master’s son,” he said. Umar nodded. “He’s old enough to start talking but he isn’t. The masters are getting... increasingly upset about this. I can’t figure out a way to get him to talk.”

“Some children just take time,” Umar said gently.

“I know that. But that isn’t good enough for my masters, father,” Altair sighed. “But he makes noises when I sing to him, like he wants to sing along. I thought maybe music would get the words out?”

“Ah,” Umar nodded sagely. “Yes. We’ve had a few kids start talking to sing along with a fiddle player,” he agreed. “You’re, of course, welcome to whichever you wish,” he motioned to the workshop. There were only a few completed violins hanging on the wall, their wooden bodies shiny and beautiful. 

“Thank you.”

“Though I should make you make your own,” Umar chuckled.

Altair sighed. “I only wish, father,” he said earnestly. “I hope I get to return and finish learning,” before he died. That was left unsaid. Umar was not a young man. He and Altair’s mother had had Altair late, which was why she wasn’t here for him. Umar had raised Altair alone, their only child.

“I’m sure you will. It’s just until that brat is older yes?”

“Yes. The master promised once Desmond was half grown I could return back down here to the mountain.”

“Well that isn’t too bad. You’re young. A decade won’t feel like that long.”

“I suppose,” Altair sighed. “Let me pick one and get back. I still haven’t been to sleep yet.” Umar left him to select one of the violins. 

He picked a brightly polished one and tested it under his chin. It felt familiar and filled him with nostalgia. He tested the strings and even untuned, the strings loose, the sound it made was rich and melodic and Altair was satisfied. He put it, two bows and extra catgut and wax into a lined case. “Thank you, dad,” he said as he clipped the case closed.

“Of course, my boy. Whatever you need,” Umar said.

“I’ll try and visit again.”

“It’s alright. I know we run on opposite schedules now. Don’t feel you need to risk your sleep for me. I know you’ll be back.”

“Thank you,” Altair bowed a little before heading back to the castle.