#I really like how anakings face turned out here

[sketchyspirit]

And you said you never knew me But I think you do

(Cropped) Commission for @obi-wkenobi illustrating her amazing vaderwan fic 

to my commissions info sheet

[episodone]

HAIR TIE

SYNOPSIS: It was a heated day back in Coruscant and your body was starting to give up. With your long hair making the situation worse, Anakin decides to be of help.

PAIRING: rots!anakin x fem!reader ( implied )

CONTENT WARNING: established relationship, a bit of swearing, teasing, a whole lot of fluff, reader is implied to have long hair, anaking being a bit suggestive but nothing major

WORD COUNT: 857 ( i think … )

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi everyone!! wow … here’s my first ever work on this account ? this is a special moment for me, okay !! anyways, i really hope you all enjoy whatever this turns out to be! this is also my first time writing properly with upper case letters so this is weird to me .. also please excuse any mistakes ! this was written by a very sleepy lily …

star wars masterlist

You had experienced long hot days before, but never something quite like this one. The heat was insufferable back in Coruscant, and as much as you would love to complain about it, you couldn’t. The Jedi Temple was nice enough for having a cooling down system for all of the Jedi’s inside to enjoy, and it seemed to be working for everyone, except for you.

Training was getting harder for your body. You could feel sweat drops running down your face and you muscles wanting to give up due to the temperature. You felt vulnerable, which wasn’t usual of you. Even your Padawan was giving you weird looks from time to time, but you decided to brush them off. For all that matters, your Jedi robes and cloak weren’t helping, either.

You weren’t one to back down on your trainings, and you wanted to persist in the duel against your Padawan, trying to give them as much knowledge in lightsaber fights as you possibly could. That was you purpose, after all. But enough was enough, even for you. Just as you were about to call out for a break, they were faster than you. You thanked Maker it was over and granted them to leave the room to cool down and rest and you decided to do the same yourself shortly after, running outside. While walking down the long hallway, with your heavy chest panting from the heat, a familiar voice calls out for you.

“Here’s my pretty girl.” a tall figure makes its way to your side and you look up to see Anakin, as perfect as ever. Not a single drop of sweat on his face and biggest grin ever while looking at you, like the heat doesn’t even bother him. How you envied him in that moment.

“Not here, Ani. Someone could hear you.” you look to your sides, searching for any sign of life besides you two that could compromise this moment, and Anakin watches you with a glint in his eyes.

“As far as I’m concerned, everyone is too focused on cooling down right now rather than look for forbidden couples walking around the Temple together.” you turn to him with an unamused look and playfully hit his arm as he only laughs at you.

“You should probably do the same, my love. It seems the heat is taking a toll on you.”

“Very funny, Anakin. Not everyone looks as perfect as you after a long session of training under the warmth.” You curse under you breath by how unaffected he was, with his perfect blonde locks and perfect smooth skin with no signs of tiredness. How confident he seemed when his whole body was stinging, begging for a breath of cold air.

“So you think I’m perfect?” he turns to you with a teasing smile and you scoff in response.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Skywalker.” you answer bluntly and he smiles at you, inspecting your figure.

“No hair up today?” he asks and you turn to him, clearly confused.

“What?”

“Your hair. Since it’s so hot, I thought you would put up your hair.”

Oh. That’s right. Your hair. Your forgot about that one little detail. How were supposed to manage the heat better if you hair was blocking your neck from all the cooling around? Now you know why your Padawan was giving you funny looks. What kind of person in their right minds would walk around with their hair down on an extreme heat day?

You quickly sense around your pulses for a hair tie, only to find out that you forgot about them in your dorm earlier today.

“Kriff.” you mumble. “I forgot my hair ties this morning.”

You think back to who could borrow you one for the day. A fellow female Jedi around the Temple. The one’s you didn’t know so well, unfortunately. While your mind runs through the endless options and the embarrassment that would come with you asking, you hair gets suddenly lift up.

You try to look back to see what happened but you’re stopped by Anakin, who now holds your hair with one of his hands in a makeshift ponytail.

“Wait.” his other hand sneaks around your waist, stopping you in your tracks. A sense of relief washes over you as a breath of cold hair spreads around your neck and shoulders. You instinctively close your eyes to the feeling, letting out a deep sigh. Pink tinted blush creeps up your cheeks at the thought of Anakin behind you, his lips puckered up and busy being your savior of the day. You stayed in that positions for a few second until air flow suddenly stops, making you flutter your eyes open.

“Better?” his voice makes a smile creep up your face and you shyly nod in response.

“Yeah... Thank you.” you feel his strong arm pull you closer to him as he drops sloppy kisses to the area he just cooled down, smiling between each peck.

“You should really start bringing your hair ties with you, my love.” he mumbles against your skin and you nod, savoring the moment as he was savoring your skin. “I can’t walk around like this all day.” he shakes your hair in his hand and you smile at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“You should start bringing them too, you know. With how long your hair is right now.” The kisses suddenly stop and you feel a hand pinching the side of your waist, making you giggle.

“Don’t make me drop your hair already.”

“Please don’t.”

[savage-rhi]

oh you like this song? oh you want to dance to it? oh you want to dance to it with me? oh it’s a love song? oh we have to slow dance? oh

Gladio/prompto? It would be so cute!

It had been a tedious day for the boys in more ways than one. If they weren't getting chased around by creatures, they were running around doing errands for locals between Gladin Quay and Duscae. All of them couldn't wait to turn in for the evening, and hopefully not have a rinse and repeat come tomorrow. For as much as the boys loved their adventures, everyone needed a break.

While Ignis and Noctis decided to explore a potential campsite area a few miles away on foot, Prompto and Gladio chose to stay behind with the Regalia. The car stereo crackled to life as Prompto fiddled with the dial, finally landing on a melodic tune that filled the air with a zesty hum. Gladio, lounging in the back with his feet confidentially resting on the drivers seats head, raised an eyebrow as he watched Prompto step out of the car and began to sway his hips to the rhythm.

Gladio huffed. "We could've used that energy earlier with the Anak stampede..."

"It's not my fault I got claustrophobic!" Prompto said in his defense. As he continued to dance, a playful grin spread across his face when he caught onto Gladio's right foot moving with the beat as the pace picked up. "Oh, you like this song?"

"Yeah," Gladio admitted with a chuckle. "It's got a nice ring to it."

Prompto's eyes sparked with mischief. "Wanna dance with me?"

Gladio did a double take, his brow furrowed slightly as he stared at him. "Dance? Here? Now?"

"Why not?"

"We're in the middle of a desert."

"So what?"

"So..." Gladio really had no counter argument, aside from giving Prompto a flat out no. His voice rumbled as he growled under his breath. "What if Iggy and Noct see us?"

Prompto laughed. "Soo...you are considering it?"

"Shut up," Gladio sighed. Despite feeling tired, he had to admit to being restless. What the hell. Maybe dancing around with Prompto like a monkey for a little bit would help him blow off some steam.

Prompto nearly fell over himself when Gladio stepped out of the car, and he wasted no time pulling the taller man into the fray. The two laughed as they started to move on their on accord. The early night was warm with the stars casting a soft glow around them.

Over time, the music enveloped both Prompto and Gladio as they went through several songs, not realizing how the open night air began to feel intimate. As the latest song died, and gave birth to a slower tempo, they both stopped to catch their breath.

"Sure got the wiggles, don't you?" Gladio chortled, his hands resting on his knees.

"I told you, I hate feeling cooped up!" Prompto smiled.

"And then some," Gladio smirked. "Looks like you can do everything, dance wise. Even the damn Cactaur Jive."

"Heh, I guess I'm talented!" Prompto's smile faltered. His hand scratching behind his head. "Actually, I'm not so good at formal dancing. Y'know, like court stuff."

Gladio was taken back. "Are you serious?"

"Hmm hmm. To be honest I've wanted to come clean about that to Noct cause...well, with his wedding coming up with Luna, I just--ah forget it!" Prompto sighed.

Gladio stood up fully as his expression softened, a hint of a smile tugging the corners of his lips. "Y'know I could show you right?"

"R-really?"

Gladio nodded proudly. "Everyone in the kingsguard had to learn at some point, so I know a thing or two. C'mon. It's easy!"

He wasted no time pulling Prompto into his arms, hands taking position and guiding him where to go. There was no chance for the latter to pull away or have second thoughts as Gladio immediately began his instruction. It didn't take long for Prompto to settle into the flow after a few stumbles, and just as he was beginning to feel confident, did he realize the song that was playing now was romantic.

"This is a pretty...lovey dovey, dontcha think?" Prompto smiled nervously while his cheeks flushed. He noticed Gladio didn't pay it any mind, seemingly elsewhere.

"I guess so," Gladio finally replied. He met Prompto's gaze in full, smiling as he heard the latter's breath catch.

"It's okay we're doing this, right?" Prompto whispered.

Gladio nodded, his hands finding their way to Prompto's waist, pulling him closer. "Yeah, it's alright. You're learning, aren't ya?"

"Yeah," Prompto nodded. "Yeah, I am!"

As they swayed gently to the music, Prompto and Gladio both felt warmth spread through their bodies. All the problems of the day faded until it was just the two of them, wrapped up in each other's presence and enjoying a moment. The song played on, a beautiful backdrop to a perfect snapshot.

From afar, Ignis and Noctis returned from scouting. Their jaws nearly dropped to the ground as they tried to process what they were looking at.

"So," Ignis cleared his throat. "Are you going to interrupt their mating dance or shall I?"

Noctis shook his head, gesturing toward the pair. "I don't know what this is. I don't know what I'm looking at, and I sure as hell don't want to get involved."

"What about moving the Regalia to camp?"

"Pfft, screw that." Noctis laughed, blushing from second hand embarrassment as he sighed. "Looks like the car is gonna be theirs now."

If you like my work and feel generous, feel free to donate to my ko-fi account or my cash app account!

Cash App: $JayRex1463

[cheerstotheelites-if]

It's so noisy.

There's so much arguing.

Is this all necessary?

And on his special day? How rude.

A young boy sits on his bed, hands trying not to peel off the bandaids on the palms of his hands. The bandaid on his cheek feels weird whenever he tries to open his mouth. It even feels weirder to move his knees when there's too many bandaids to count.

He flinches when the arguing escalated to a shouting match, and the sound of something shattering following after.

Why does this always happen?

It quiets down again, and the silence stretches on. And on. And on. And on. And on. And on—

The door opens.

A woman walks in, carefully carrying a small cake box in one hand and a wrapped gift under her arm. She's still in office wear, a bit haggard looking, judging by how her hair isn't in it a ponytail anymore. The woman shuts the door behind her, before looking at the boy with a smile; tired and faint, but genuine all the same.

"Happy Birthday, Eliseo," the woman softly greets, putting the gift down on the bed as she sits down beside her son. "I'm sorry that it took me a while."

"It's okay." He says with a small nod, hands busy fiddling with the ends of his shorts. "Are you and Papa fighting again...? Is it because I fell off my bike?"

"No, no, it's not your fault Eliseo." his mama quickly reassures, pulling her son into a side hug and squeezing his shoulder gently. "It never was."

"Yeah, but Papa said that it always is my fault that you keep fighting."

Liezel is quiet for a moment.

It takes a lot for a mother not to go back out there and beat the ever living shit to the person responsible for spewing lies to her son. How dare he say that, when the boy has done nothing wrong. How dare he, her own husband, spout such bullshit when his incompetent ass is the real reason why they keep fighting.

She would've killed him if it were legal.

Instead, she lets out a long exhale through her nose, trying to calm whatever beast is urging her to rip that man apart.

"Well," she starts, looking down at her son, "your Papa is a liar and a bad person for saying that to you. You did nothing wrong, and you aren't the reason why bad things happen, okay?"

Eliseo says nothing, instead turns to hug his Mama and bury his face into her chest. His little arms wrap around her waist, gripping onto her blazer tightly. Liezel hugs back, arms shielding her little boy away from whatever danger is lurking beyond this room.

"Mahal na mahal kita, anak." Liezel says, kissing the top of her son's head and petting it gently. "Always remember that, okay? I'll always be here for you."

~•~•~

"Eliseo, nakikinig ka ba?"

Eliseo blinks, looking up from where he was staring at (it was a random spot on the table). He can hear Nicotine squawk loudly from his perch.

"Yeah, I'm listening." Eliseo replies, shooting his mom a smile, to which earns him an unconvinced look.

"Really?" Liezel quirks a brow. "What was I saying just now?"

"That I'm your favorite son?"

At that Liezel lets out a mild exasperated sigh with a shake of her head. "Why do I even bother? You're starting to act like your Ma in being cheeky."

"She only taught me the best, Nay." Eliseo laughs upon seeing the deadpan look sent his way. "I'm only being honest!"

With another shake of her head in exasperation, Liezel stands up from her seat. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

There's a hint of fondness and endearment in it, despite the clear exasperation from the older woman. Eliseo can only smile and chuckle upon hearing it.

"How about spending my birthday with me and Ma tomorrow?" Eliseo suggests.

Liezel looks at her son incredulously. "Again? Aren't you tired of being with someone so old, let alone your own mothers? Don't you want to spend it with Zephyrine and Weylyn instead?"

"You're both a priority in my list." Eliseo chuckles and stands up to join his mom's side. "You always make my birthday the best to celebrate with."

Liezel looks at her son, who now towers over her with his height, and she chuckles with a smile; a similar way to Eliseo's. "Aren't you being awfully sweet today. Are you sure you're not trying to butter me up?"

"Never in my life. You already did so much for me since I was a kid, so why would I ask for more?"

Ah.

Well... isn't that a surprise.

A good surprise...

"I sometimes wonder where you even got that attitude from."

"I probably got it from you, Nay."

At that, Liezel laughs softly as she wipes away the corner of her eyes. "Gods above, Eliseo..."

She pulls her son into a side hug. "Mahal na mahal kita, anak. Don't forget that."

Eliseo chuckles, hugging her back. "I love you too, Nay."

[the-letter-horror-lover]

boruto, Naruto and friends in the past by mipapaya1233

Anime » Naruto Rated: K+, Indonesian, Adventure, Hinata H., Himawari U., Naruto U., Boruto U., Words: 1k+, Favs: 3, Follows: 3, Published: Feb 6, 2021 Updated: Mar 3, 2021

3chapter 1

MORNING AT TEAM 7 TRAINING PLACE

"Oi kalian"

"Eh what's wrong shikadai" said Boruto who was still breathless from practice

"Take a look at this" said shikadai while showing the item he found

"Wow what in-" Boruto's words were cut off by Inojin and Chocho

"What are you doing" said Inojin and Chocho at the same time

"Take a look at this" said shikadai

"Roll?" said Inojin

"How about we just open it" said Boruto curiously

"Don't mind if it's dangerous" said shikadai

"I agree with shikadai, we better take it to the hokage's office" said Sarada

"Calm down Sarada, this looks like just an ordinary scroll" said boruto

After that his friends gave up and Boruto opened the scroll, then a big black hole appeared and pulled them all into the hole.

"Aaah" they all shouted

Suddenly they were all in front of the Konoha gate.

"Oh, where are we?" said Inojin

"Looks like we're in front of Konoha's gate" said shikadai

"Baka boruto, I told you not to open the scroll" said Sarada angrily

"Sorry, I didn't know," said Boruto, grinning

"It's okay Sarada, we better go in" said Chocho

"hmm ok"

In front of the gate of Konoha

"Hey wait who are you guys?" One of the guards said

"Do you guys really don't know us?" asked the shikadai of the 2 guards

"No, who are you really?" Ask the other guard

"It's me Uzumaki boruto, son of Uzumaki naruto" said boruto

"Hahaha, no way... Naruto isn't even married yet" said one of the guards

"Come on, come with us to the Hokage's room."

Hokage's room

"Rokudaime-sama there is a foreigner who claims to be the son of Uzumaki naruto"

"Tell them in"

"Oh... Uncle Kakashi, what are you doing in dad's study?" Boruto asked confused

"Who are you"

"Rokudaime-sama, do you really not know who we are!?" ask shikadai

"I really don't know who you are"

"I'm boruto... the son of Uzumaki Naruto"

"No way, Naruto just isn't married"

"How old is Uzumaki Naruto now?" Ask shikadai

"19 tahun"

"WHAT!" they all said except rokudaime hokage/Kakashi

Continued

Yo Mina-san that's the story first

2

"That's impossible... dad is over 30 years old, how can he still be 19" said Boruto in disbelief

"It seems we are in the past" concluded shikadai

"Is it because of the scroll?" ask inojin

"May be"

"So you guys are children from the future..?" Ask Kakashi/Rokudaime Hokage

"Yes" said Sarada

"Then introduce yourselves one by one."

"Hah.., mendokusei.." Shikadai said slowly

"Watashinonamaeha Nara shikadai, putra tunggal dari Nara Shikamaru dan Nara Temari"

'I didn't think Shikamaru would marry the fierce princess Suna' said Kakashi in his heart

"Watashinonamaeha Uzumaki boruto, putra sulung dari Uzumaki Naruto dan Uzumaki Hinata"

'ara-ara, it turns out that Naruto is going to marry Hinata..., They are a perfect match' in Kakashi's heart

"Watashinonamaeha Yamanaka inojin, putra tunggal dari Yamanaka ino dan Yamanaka sai"

'Wow... It turns out that Ino will marry the undead' Kakashi again

"watashinonamaeha Mitsuki, putra Orochimaru"

"What..!, Orochimaru is getting married..!" Shouted Kakashi with a shocked look

"No I'm just his artificial child" said Mitsuki with an innocent face

"Watashinonamaeha Uchiha Sarada, putri dari Uchiha Sasuke and Uchiha sakura"

'Looks like Sakura's wish has come true'

"Watashinonamaeha Akimichi Chocho, anak dari Akimichi Choji dan Akimichi karui"

'It turns out that Choji will marry someone from Kumogakure'

"Okay, wait here, I'll call your parents."

"Ha'ik" they all said except Kakashi

In the future

LACK

The door of the Hokage's office was smashed to pieces, then 5 women entered whose eyes looked like they had been crying, coincidentally, at the Hokage's office there was Shikamaru Naruto, Choji Sai and Sasuke.

"Hime what happened..?" Naruto asked Hinata

"Temari is everything okay..?" Shikamaru said while hugging Temari

"Boruto, Sarada, Shikadai, Inojin, Chocho they disappeared" said the 5 women

"And Mitsuki isn't there either" Hinata continued

"We've searched all over Konoha village but still can't find it" said Temari

Suddenly Sakura fainted because she was tired of handling many patients in the hospital, then Temari couldn't hold back her tears anymore she cried as loud as she could in Shikamaru's arms, not long after that Hinata, Ino and Karui started crying while Naruto Sai and Choji hugged their wife who was crying. cry

"Earlier... sob we found.. sob Gulu.. sob just... this sob.. sob" Temari said while crying

Shikamaru took the scroll and kept it in the Hokage's office, then they all took their wives home and returned to the Hokage's office.

"Hey teme do you know what scroll this is?" asked Naruto to sasuke

"Let me see dobe first" Sasuke took the scroll and looked at it

"Hey look at that, behind the scroll" said Shikamaru

Sasuke immediately flipped the scroll and there was an image of a clock on the back of the scroll.

"Wait a minute I know the picture of this clock-"

"Kakashi sensei... why did you call us all here?" asked Naruto

"Look at these kids" Kakashi pointed at boruto, Mitsuki, shikadai, inojin, Sarada, and Chocho

"Eh... Temari-chan..!" Teriak Ino

"Temari-chan when did you come?" Hinata asked

"Just arrived yesterday and went straight to sleep at the inn so I didn't have time to go out"

"Aah.. by the way who are these kids" Shikamaru asked

"You introduce yourselves once again" Kakashi said

"Watashinonamaeha Nara shikadai, putra tunggal dari Nara Shikamaru dan Nara Temari"

'what so I'm going to marry that crybaby' Temari thought

'Why can I marry a troublesome girl like Temari' Shikamaru thought

Even so Shikamaru and Temari's cheeks were blushing red

"Watashinonamaeha Uzumaki boruto, putra sulung dari Uzumaki Naruto dan Uzumaki Hinata"

'aah I will marry nn Naruto-kun' thought Hinata who was already blushing and almost fainted

'Well so I'm not going to marry Sakura-chan then it's okay' Naruto thought

"Watashinonamaeha Yamanaka inojin, putra tunggal dari Yamanaka ino dan Yamanaka sai"

'So I'm going to marry a beautiful lady' Sai thought with a smile

'So I'm going to marry Sai, he's similar to Sasuke, just not quiet and good at drawing' thought Ino

"watashinonamaeha Mitsuki, putra Orochimaru"

"What..!" shouted all of them except Kakashi

"Relax I'm just an artificial child" said Mitsuki with a smile

"Sorry I'm late, what's wrong with Rokudaime-sama calling me here?" Karui asked

"Karui-san when did you come" Hinata asked

"Yesterday the day after tomorrow to take documents as well as vacation" Karui replied

"Ok let's continue" said Kakashi

Karui looked at the six children especially Chocho

"Watashinonamaeha Uchiha Sarada, putri dari Uchiha Sasuke and Uchiha sakura"

'oh' in Sasuke's heart

'I will marry Sasuke-kun' Sakura thought

"Watashinonamaeha Akimichi Chocho, anak dari Akimichi Choji dan Akimichi karui"

'oh..so I'm going to marry this guy from Akimichi' in Karui's heart

'So I'm going to marry a Kumo villager, I didn't think anyone would accept my weight... even though I wasn't confident in myself' in Choji's heart

"And now I'm going to give you a mission, which is to look after your children until we find a way to get them back."

"Ha'ik" they all said

"Okay now disband" said Kakashi

"ha'ik"

continued

3:

Ohayou/konnichiwa minna-san

Gomen nee Minna

Can't update again

But if you want to read the finished one, you can read it on my wattpad.

There are also other stories that are better in writing, not like this one, not easy to read. So if you want to stop by on my wattpad please

My WP 1 = Mipapaya1234 / Mipapaya1234

Akun WP 2 = Azkagaming4466 / Nara shikatema

[lovelyyy-luna]

rising sun {pt.2}

fandom: moon knight

fic summary: Y/N returns home while being on hiatus. She is employed at the museum and meets a gift shopist with a past he knew nothing about.

chapter summary: Y/N speaks to her sister and has a good heart to heart, and then she has a job interview despite her goddess's protests.

pronouns: she/her

warning: just some arguing

word count: 1131

a/n: the Arabic I got from google translate, so if it's wrong, please let me know!

date: 

PART 1 | PART 2 |

masterlist

Doing this over the phone probably isn't the best thing to do, so you hail a taxi and tell them where to take you.

Once they dropped you off, you just stood at the foot of the stairs leading to her door. You left unexpectedly and haven't called her since.

You were pacing and pacing; you stopped in your tracks when you heard her voice.

“Y/N?”

You turn and face her, you smile at her, but behind it is worry, “Layla. How you doin’ sis?”

You stared at each other, which felt like an eternity, and then she hurriedly went down the steps and hugged you tight against her.

It was all familiar. It was home.

She let you go and put her hands on the side of your face, almost examining you, and then her sweet demeanor changed, and anger spread across it.

“Madha bihaqi aljahimi! 'Ayn kinti? Laqad dhahabt limudat eam wahda! Lam tukalif nafsak eana' alaitisal bi? 'Ana aietaqadt 'anak myt!” Layla yelled at you in Arabic.

‘What the hell! Where have you been? You've been gone for one year! You didn't even bother to call me? I thought you were dead!’

“Good to see you too, sis.”

She gives you a deadly stare.

“Okay, I'm sorry, I really am. I just didn't know what to do. With everything that happened, I just I-”

“What exactly happened, Y/N? After I heard what happened, I thought you were dead,” she started to get teary.

“Layla, I don't know what happened. I really don't. I think I blocked it out. I don't know what's wrong with me. Im sorry- im-,” you started to hyperventilate.

She held you tightly again. You felt yourself calming down.

“Hey, hey,” she cooed, “it's alright, you're home now. Why don't we go inside, and I'll make some tea.”

You sat on the couch, and she went into the kitchen. You look at the living room corner and see Bastet standing there.

She was staring at you. 

“We have to get going. I let you see her; now we must go.”

“This is the first time I've seen her in a year. You wouldn't let me contact her. I think I deserve a day with my sister.” 

She gave you a look that was full of disappointment. Even though her face was just a cat's mask, you knew the underlying expression on her face.

You broke your stare with the goddess when your sister walked in with a cup.

“Hope your tea preference did change while away,” she says, handing you the cup.

You thank her with a smile and take a sip.

“So, where have you been for a year?”

“New York.”

“Wow, how was that? See all the sights?”

“Not exactly,” you sighed.

There was another silence.

“So now that you're home, do you have a plan?” Layla asked.

“Um, well, I have a meeting with the museum director. She said I was always welcome back if I wanted a job.”

“That's good. What about housing?”

You give her a sweet look.

Annoyed, she sighed, “I guess you can stay with me.”

You exclaimed with happiness.

“But not forever. You need to get your place.”

You nod and finish your tea.

You put your cup in the sink, and she was getting her stuff together, “Listen, I have to go do something here. Here is a spare key; let me know when you get to your meeting, okay?”

You nod and take her key, and she leaves. You were alone, kind of. Bastet made herself known, “Y/N, we must go.”

You go upstairs to the room where you were staying and begin to look at the photos in the room. Lots were of your parents and you and Layla.

You grab your bag and lock up the door. You put some headphones on to drown Bast out, but it never worked. It would just muffle her. 

“Y/N, you're going the wrong way! We need to be going the other way!” Bast growled.

“I'm going to the museum. I'm not listening to you!”

She tried to force herself to front, and your eyes were rolling back, but you fought against her and stopped in your tracks staring at her dead in her soulless eyes.

“I'm not your puppet! Leave me alone!” you turned the volume up on your headphones and continued on your path to the museum.

You finally got there, and it was like a wave of nostalgia came over you. You spent your entire life in museums. You were staring at the giant statue of Isis when a man came up beside you; both of you were admiring the stature.

The man was mumbling something; you looked over at him and took your headphones out.

“Sorry, what?” you asked.

“Oh, I was just saying how beautiful she was.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled; you examined his face. It was familiar, but you brushed past it, “I wonder what she's like.”

“Probably very knowledgeable and kind,” he inputs.

You nodded and noticed he was wearing a name tag indicating he worked here.

“Steven?”

He looked at you, confused, “How did you-?”

You tapped on your chest, and he forgot he had his badge on.

You giggled at him; he was cute, “I wondered if you could point me to Donna Kraft's office. I have a meeting with her.”

“Oh yeah, sure, of course. If you didn't mind my asking, what are you meeting her for?”

“Oh, it's for a job as a curator.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” you say with a smile, and both walk to her office.

The two of you stop at her door just looking at each other, and then the moment is interrupted by Donna opening her door.

“Stevie. Stop bothering Miss L/N. Now go back to your job at the gift show,” she said sternly but gave you a friendly smile.

“It's Steven, actually,” he mumbled and walked away.

You felt bad that he was speaking it that way, “Thank you for walking me, Steven.”

A smile crept back upon his face.

You sat in her office and talked about regular interview things, and by the end of it, Donna hired you.

You walked out of the office and then went to the gift shop.

“Hello,” you said happily.

His head rose, and a slight pinkness to his cheeks said, “H-hello! How was the interview?”

“Perfect! I got the job. So be ready to see more of me,” you chuckled, looking at the cute stuffed animals of the goddess Taweret and putting them on the table for him to ring up.

He smiled and scanned the animal.

“So now that you work here, you get the 10% employee discount.”

“Thank you. So, do you work tomorrow morning?” you ask.

He was caught off guard by the question, “Uh, yeah, why?”

“Well, I’m starting tomorrow and wanted to know your coffee order. Or is it tea? You look more like a tea kind of guy.”

He gave a dry chuckle, “Oh um, I like tea, mostly green tea, but any tea will do.”

“Perfect. I will see you tomorrow morning with green tea,” you say, smiling and walking away.

“W-wait! I didn't get your name,” he called after you.

“Y/N!” You called back.

PART 1 | PART 2 |

♡please like comment and/or reblog♡ wanna be tagged? (X)

forever tags: // @fandomxreader // @mrspetxrs // @a-astxr // @alexxavicry // @livingandlivid // @goldenhxurs // @lovelyy-moonlight // @iceyarrows //

moon knight tags: // @nosferatuuu // @ahookedheroespureheart // @peach-child // @azriel-the-shadowsinger // @slutforblueeyes // @i-reblog-fics-i-like // @ekkomorningstar // @brekkers-desigirl // @anehempel // 

layla el-faouley tags: // @ekkomorningstar // 

rising sun tags: // @ekkomorningstar // @brekkers-desigirl // @anehempel //

[ohgodmyeyes]

Patience

Heavily implied Ferus x Anakin; 6.5k words; T-rated; hurt/comfort. (I really like this one.)

Summary: Anakin's guilt over Darra's death killed his marriage before it even began, and now it's killing him, too.

How many more times can he call on Ferus to clean up his messes for him before Ferus decides he's had enough?

...

"No, Anakin— I can't. I can't do it this time; I'm sorry."

"Ferus, please— sh-she's going to be here with them at noon, a-and—"

"I've already missed three of the last five practices because of this! If they think they can't even trust me to show up to the arena, they'll—"

"I know! I know, okay? But I can't do it by myself, and I don't have anyone else to call."

"Anakin, I told you last time that I can't keep—"

"I won't bother you again! Not after this! Christ, Ferus, please! You know she'll—"

"Fine! Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. But you have to promise me this time that you'll—"

"I will! I will; whatever you want! Just— just... hurry, okay? Please?"

"I'm already on my way, Anakin— I'll see you soon."

"O-okay. I'll be waiting."

"I know."

Anakin's phone hit the dusty carpet at his feet, landing with a muted thump. Face-up with its lockscreen lit, he couldn't help but wonder if the device didn't actually intend to mock him with the big, blatant 9:37 am situated prominently in the centre of the display.

He wanted to stand up from the sofa... but no matter how much we willed himself to try, he just couldn't seem to straighten out his legs.

Ferus was going to be furious with him if he couldn't even manage to answer the door when he arrived, and he knew it.

His eyes travelled across the surface of the coffee table in front of him; it was crowded, but his cigarettes and lighter— both bright-blue— stood out clearly, even in the dim light (Anakin nearly always kept his blinds shut). He took a smoke, stuck it in his mouth, and lit it; after that, he reached back over to the table, and picked up something else: A small photograph; wallet-sized, and unframed. One of those ones everybody's parents used to buy from their school every year, and line up on top of the refrigerator or television or fireplace.

This one was of a girl— a happy-looking, mousey-haired, teenage girl.

Anakin bit his lip and turned it over onto its face, because now that he wasn't quite so drunk as he'd been last night, he couldn't bring himself to look at it.

The rest of the table around the picture was littered with loose cigarette butts and miniature bottles of vodka; here and there, a beer can stood tall as if to break up the monotony of the landscape. All of the containers were empty, and all of the butts were burned right down to their melted filters: Anakin hadn't had a good night last night.

The back of the photo wasn't much better than the front, but it was easier not to look at Darra's hand-printed name than it was to try not to look at her face.

I'm sorry— I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

That's all he ever said to her anymore, whether he was drunk or not; still, he took out that damn picture and laid it out on the table every time he so much as thought of her. Anakin owed Darra that, didn't he?

She'd still be alive, after all, if he hadn't tried to drive her home that night— hammered drunk, and pumped full of adrenaline. He'd only tried it because he was the one who'd dragged her to the stupid graduation party in the first place; he was the one with the car, and the licence. When she'd asked him to get her out of there, desperation writ clear on her face, what else was he supposed to have done?

Anything. Anything else.

He'd ended up wrapping his little red car around a tree that night; Darra had broken her neck flying through the windshield and out onto the pavement, but Anakin had walked away virtually unscathed.

It was almost funny to him that, even all these years later, he still liked to drink.

"Okay," he said out loud, although even he wasn't sure why. Likely, it was intended to be self-motivational; however, Anakin remained just as immobilized after he finished saying it than he had been before.

All he could smell was smoke; smoke, and maybe some old food, although he couldn't begin to guess where he might have left something like that (unless, of course, the kitchen had grown so bad that the stench was wafting in from there). He was clothed, but his clothes were filthy; it was Saturday now, and he'd had them on since about Thursday morning.

...How the hell was it already Saturday, anyway?

Counting like a toddler on a set of shaky, calloused fingers, Anakin tried as he choked back his smoke to recount the past few days in his head. He'd started drinking Thursday evening after work, because he knew he wasn't going to have to go back until Monday; he had known to expect his kids on Saturday, but something had obviously gone wrong, and now—

Now, his living room was littered with garbage and bottles and misplaced items of just about every description, the air in his house was blue with smoke, and he was sure he looked precisely as terrible as he felt.

All that, and his kids were due to be here in less time than it would have taken Ferus to attend his hockey practice, if only he'd made it out the door that morning before Anakin had made his phone buzz.

At least, he thought, Ferus was used to him making his phone buzz.

"Okay," he repeated to himself, after a few more grateful lungfuls of smoke... and this time, he seemed to have a bit more luck with his legs: Stubbing out his cigarette (he even managed to do it in the ashtray), he grunted as he pulled himself to his feet, and reluctantly surveyed the mess in front of him.

Shit.

No— no 'shit'. Ferus is coming, remember?

Even Ferus said he can't keep doing this. Next time—

"Shut up." Anakin was no stranger to arguing with himself. "There won't be a 'next time', alright?" He didn't know if he really believed that or not; all he wanted was for his brain to pipe down.

He kicked at a half-crumpled beer can near his foot on the floor, and when its tinny rattle was all he could hear, he supposed it meant his talking back had worked.

Knock knock.

"Ferus."

Maybe he would be impressed instead of disappointed, Anakin thought— here he was, after all; up on his own two feet. That was better than last time, wasn't it?

...When the hell had Anakin Skywalker become a person who hoped against hope that someone would be 'impressed' with him for getting up and walking ten feet across a room to answer a goddamn door?

"Hey," he started in a near-mechanical fashion, desperate to ignore his own intrusive thoughts. "I really can't thank you enough for—"

"Not this time, Anakin."

Shit. "I— I didn't mean to—"

Ferus breezed right past, before Anakin could get another word in— as soon as there was enough room between himself and the open front door to do so. The first thing he did was wrinkle his nose in response to the rank odour of old smoke and stale food lingering in the air; the second thing he did was survey the space. His face was stony, and his shoulders were squared; to Anakin, he looked almost confrontational.

"At least it's not as bad as it was last time," he observed, even though he knew very well that wasn't saying very much.

Anakin didn't answer to that— what was there to say?

Immediately, Ferus started opening windows: Between the smoke and the acrid stench of whatever was rotting away in the kitchen, he felt he didn't have much of a choice.

"I've told you before," he said as he finished his walk around the perimeter of the room, "that if you're having a hard time, you need to tell her— be honest with her! I know you aren't together anymore, but—"

"If I could tell her about things like this," interrupted Anakin, motioning about at the mess, "then we would still be together. She doesn't understand; all she does is get angry. If she sees the house— sees me— this way, she'll take me right back to court. I... I might not see my kids for months." She hadn't always been so stringent, but over the years, Padmé's patience with Anakin and his struggles had worn thin. She wanted to go to work, raise her children, and see her friends— not babysit her sad, drunk husband.

Now that he was approaching thirty years of age, in fact, no one wanted to do that for Anakin anymore. Few ever did, except for Ferus, and even he'd grown increasingly distant since the start of the most recent spiral: It had all started almost a year ago, with Anakin quitting the hockey team; as far as Ferus could tell, there was still no end to it in sight.

He'd been there for Anakin as much as he could over the years: Sometimes that had been a lot and sometimes it had only been a little, but no matter what, it only ever got harder. Anakin made it that way, whether he meant to or not— like a heavy stone, inexplicably destined to be rolled uphill.

"If you're afraid of not being allowed to see your kids, Anakin..." Ferus trailed off; he sounded just exasperated enough that he knew he didn't need to finish. He didn't want to finish.

"I know," said Anakin, because he did— he did know. Swallowing hard in an effort to forgo the last sticky, useless vestiges of his own ego, he admitted, "I was going to a group, but..."

"But what?" Ferus demanded. Anakin had been in and out of about a dozen 'groups'.

"But... there were too many people. Every time I went to say something, I froze up— and— well, it—"

Ferus interrupted with a heavy sigh. "Whatever, Anakin," he said, with deliberate dismissiveness. "It doesn't matter. You called me here today to clean up for you, right?"

Anakin bit down on his lip. "Y-yeah— but it's not just—"

"Then I'll get cleaning." He walked off in the direction of the kitchen, then. Even though Anakin had only lived in it since his divorce, Ferus was quite familiar with the layout of his home: Again, this wasn't the first time he'd been called to fix things after one of his binges.

Ferus soon discovered (predictably) that the countertop needed as much work as the living room seemed to, if not more; several days worth of barely-picked-at food was stagnating in dishes all over every surface. The stove was near-invisible, and the sink might as well not have existed just then for how much there was stacked up inside of it.

There was a garbage can in the corner, but Ferus could hardly hazard a guess at the last time the bag inside had been changed.

Goddamnit, Anakin.

Ferus tightly clenched his own jaw as he bent to retrieve a big, plastic garbage bag from the cupboard beneath that tragically-overloaded sink; the one he hated that he was likely about to have to clean. He didn't like to be frustrated; not with Anakin, or anyone else— very likely (and somewhat juxtapositionally), his own inherent distaste for those types of feelings were what let him tolerate things like this as well as he did.

There was, however, only so much a person could take— even when that person happened to be Ferus Olin.

Anyway, cleaning Anakin's sink for him time after time didn't seem to be helping him very much. Briefly, Ferus wondered if he shouldn't just leave right then— if it might actually end up being better for Anakin (and everyone else) if his ex-wife were allowed to see for herself just how terribly he seemed to fall to pieces every few weeks.

...That thought, though, left his mind almost as quickly as it had invaded it. Even in the midst of his own irritation, Ferus couldn't bring himself to imagine the pain it would cause Anakin to have his children turned around on a dime, and marched back out to their mother's car on a day they were supposed to have visited.

Garbage bag in hand, he walked back out into the living room. Seeing Anakin standing there was, somehow, jarring; to view him head-to-toe was to be forced to acknowledge just how much of a toll nearly a decade's worth of guilt and grief had taken on him.

He was more pale (ashen, really) than Ferus could ever remember him being; skinnier, too; with dull, greasy hair far longer than anyone who knew Anakin would ever have presumed him to be comfortable with. His face was drawn, and his eyes were red— he didn't look well. It was then that Ferus came to understand that a large part of why he'd been so distant lately was (to his own deep and immediate regret) that Anakin had, quite simply, grown increasingly difficult to lay eyes on at as time had marched on.

It wasn't because he was ugly— no matter what Anakin did to himself, he could never have been ugly— but rather, because he didn't seem 'right'. He didn't seem like Anakin. At the very least, he wasn't who Ferus had come to know him to be, and witnessing his decline was, above all else, painful.

Even right now— from several feet away— Ferus was quite sure he could smell the days of grime that had built up on his body as he'd sat and drank, sprawled out on his gross, old couch.

"You should go upstairs and have a shower," he said, almost certainly more tersely than he actually intended. "I'll start taking care of things down here." That was, after all, how it had worked every other time he'd been called for this.

Anakin nodded, exactly as aware as Ferus of just how badly he needed to scrub himself down. After a brief moment of silent hesitation, he turned on his heel and walked off in the direction of the narrow staircase at the far end of the room. As he did, Ferus watched him; again, it hurt to do: From this angle, Anakin looked too old; almost gaunt beneath his clothes, with lines on his face and even a few subtle streaks of grey in his hair.

...In another way, though, he looked altogether too young: Like he hadn't aged (or, for that matter, grown) since the day he'd killed Darra.

He didn't 'kill' Darra.

He didn't mean to kill her.

By the time Anakin was trudging his way up the stairs (maybe for the first time that week), Ferus was glad not to be facing him.

He knew he shouldn't blame Anakin for what happened that night; he knew nobody else should, either— but it was, to an extent, unavoidable. He did it anyway (although he certainly wasn't the only one), and Anakin was all too aware of it. Her death had driven a silent wedge between them, and their relationship had never quite recovered. Ferus often theorized that it was a large part of why Anakin had run so readily into Padmé's arms after high school.

That endeavour, however well-intended, had always been destined to fail. Anakin had been broken beyond measure by then; too broken, anyway, for a single person to be able to pick up all of the pieces. Ferus had, in essence, left Padmé to do that all alone— was it really any wonder it hadn't worked out for them?

It hadn't all been Ferus' fault, of course, and he did know that, even if he didn't always feel it. Anakin had, frankly, been too young to get married— too young to have babies, and certainly too young to get divorced. Although fatherhood obviously brought him great joy (if it didn't, he would never have embarrassed himself by phoning anyone about this at all), it also took more from him than Ferus sometimes suspected he had to give.

He waited until he heard the shower upstairs begin to squeal before he started loading trash from the table into the bag. He couldn't help but shake his head as he did; the sheer volume of cigarette butts and liquor containers was, to him, patently morbid. Was Anakin trying to die?

He didn't have a right to that, Ferus thought bitterly. Not when he still had his kids; not when he still had people (or, one person, at least) who would come to him when he called. Darra never even got a chance to have anything like that.

Doesn't that mean anything to him?!

In his frustration, Ferus found himself being a bit less careful with what he was grabbing from the table— handfuls of trash went into the bag all at once; bottles and cigarette wrappers and loose bits of all manner of crap. As the dirty, semi-lacquered surface started to become visible again, he almost didn't notice when he happened to pick up something that wasn't garbage.

It was a good thing he did notice— because not only would Anakin never have forgiven Ferus for throwing out one of the only remaining photos of Darra in his possession, it was quite likely that Ferus wouldn't have forgiven himself, either.

"I don't know why you do this to yourself, Anakin," he muttered anyway, setting down the trash bag. He didn't actually look at the photo as he walked it over to a shelf at the edge of the room, and put it up out of harm's way: Why the hell would he have looked at it?

Looking at Darra wasn't going to bring her back.

The shower upstairs was still running; by now, Ferus could smell Anakin's soap as its scent wafted down the stairs. Graciously, it seemed to be helping displace some of the stale smoke that had built up in the living room—encouraging it out the newly-opened windows, and replacing it with something more palatable.

Anakin had been using the same soap for years; the familiarity of it was enough to dissolve Ferus' irritation (for now, at least) while he went back to work on the coffee table. Anyway, if he'd truly been upset with Anakin for this, would he really have shown up to help?

...Maybe.

He supposed that since he was already here, it didn't particularly matter anymore what he'd been feeling when he'd made the decision to show up.

Ferus would rather have been shooting pucks at Tru right now— he and Anakin had once done that together, alongside Ben and a number of other assorted alumni of their local high school; however, Anakin hadn't played hockey for a long time, now. Anyway, Tru hadn't spoken to him in any meaningful capacity since the accident with Darra; likewise, Anakin hadn't been close with Ben for years.

When she died, they had all died— all in their own ways.

Maybe Anakin's death was simply the ugliest. Maybe that was why it stood out.

The shower had stopped by then, and Ferus had moved onto the floor. He knew he couldn't vacuum the carpet until he'd at least picked up a few of the bigger chunks of clothing and garbage scattered about it. He managed to make a bit of progress before he heard Anakin's footsteps; segueing first into the hallway above him, and then starting heavily back down the stairs.

"Why aren't you dressed?" he asked, when Anakin appeared at the threshold of the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I don't have any clean clothes," he answered simply. He didn't even seem embarrassed to admit it, which somehow made it all the more sad.

Ferus sighed— sighed, and tried not to react to the sight of Anakin clad in a saggy, threadbare strip of terrycloth (it felt like a long time since he'd seen him in just a towel).

"My hockey bag is in my car," he said. "I have clean sweatpants, and a clean shirt in there, too— if you want, you can borrow them."

"I, um— that wouldn't... bother you?" Now Anakin did look ashamed, if only a little bit.

"Of course it wouldn't. We used to share clothes all the time, didn't we?"

Anakin nodded. The two had, in fact, once made quite a habit out of exchanging t-shirts and hoodies. "You, um— you don't mind going to get them, then...?"

"I'll be right back," said Ferus, setting the trash bag down in front of Anakin. "Try to pick up a couple of things while I'm gone, alright?"

"...Alright."

As Ferus walked out to his car, he couldn't help but wonder if the clothes he had in his bag would even fit Anakin properly. For someone who sat around drinking on most of his days off, he was disconcertingly thin; he supposed it must be a consequence of all that prepared-but-uneaten food he'd detected rotting away in the kitchen. He and Anakin had once shared dinners together— lots of them. Before he'd gotten married; sometimes even after that too, if Padmé was busy and her husband was lonely.

Ferus hadn't had dinner with Anakin for almost as long as he'd gone without seeing him in a towel.

Maybe it was something he ought to try again sometime.

"Here," he said, thrusting a soft, mostly-black bundle into Anakin's arms once he'd closed up his car, and made his way back into the house. "Go and put these on— you'll have to tie the pants up tight."

"Thanks," said Anakin. "I'll wash them and give them back; I—"

"Don't worry about it right now, okay? Just go and get dressed. I'll vacuum, and start gathering up laundry; once you've put yourself together, you can help with the kitchen." Ferus started to go back to the mess on the living room floor (there was even a small, dried-up puddle of what looked like vomit near the couch; that would require a bit of extra attention), but paused for a moment before fully turning his back.

"What?" asked Anakin. Of course he had noticed.

"...Nothing," replied Ferus. Anything else he had to say right now would have been inherently distracting; Anakin didn't need that. Anakin needed to get dressed.

"...O-okay," he conceded. "Okay, I... uh, I'll be right back, then." He wanted more than anything to prod Ferus (it had been a long time since the two had spoken meaningfully), but even he knew the time wasn't right— in less than two hours, he had to be a father.

He could always talk to Ferus later on... couldn't he?

It was too late to ask, because Ferus was already back at work filling up that garbage bag.

Anakin, in retreating back upstairs momentarily, found that Ferus' supposition had been correct: The pants were, indeed, too big; pulling the drawstring tight only seemed to do so much to rectify the issue. It made him feel insecure, but insecurity was just another luxury he didn't have time for today. After combing his hair through with his fingers, he tugged the shirt over his head— unable to keep from noticing that it bore the bright, cheerful emblem of the team they both used to play for.

The team whose practice Ferus is missing right now to help your sorry, drunk ass.

"Shut up. Not now."

Okay— but it's true.

The shirt was about as baggy as the pants, but that was alright. Ferus had always been a litter taller than Anakin, and Anakin had always liked clothes he could hide in. Back in high school— before what had happened to Darra; before he'd ever met Padmé— Ferus' hooded sweatshirts had been some of his favourite things to wear.

He probably still had one or two of them laying around, he thought... but his closet was as much a mess as the lower half of his house; he knew he wouldn't have had time to find one of them, even if he'd tried.

Another day, maybe.

Anakin's next descent into the living room was, to his dismay, marked by a brief-but-intense flash of abject terror: It expanded like fresh ice in his gut as he raced against his own angry body to get to the coffee table, whose spotlessly-clean surface was the source of his disconcert.

Ferus had left the room— presumably to go off and get the vacuum cleaner.

Unsure as to whether he was about to vomit or fall down, Anakin gripped the back of the couch.

"She's fine."

"I— I didn't—"

"I put her up on your bookshelf," said Ferus calmly, approaching Anakin where he stood by the sofa, vacuum in hand. "But... you know you should really get a frame for her, right?" If he'd been annoyed with Anakin for dwelling on the photo before, he wasn't anymore.

Anakin didn't look up from the surface of the coffee table. He didn't know why he was surprised that Ferus seemed to understand what he'd been doing— probably, it was because they hadn't talked about it in so damn long.

That made it even more difficult for him to confess to him, "If I put her in a frame, I... I won't be able to see her name anymore."

"...What?"

"Her name— on the back. She wrote it there for me; if I put it in a frame, I won't be able to flip it over and see it whenever I want."

Ferus was only barely successful in fighting his urge to sigh (later on, he'd be glad he had managed). "Why do you want to 'see' it, Anakin?" he asked. Ferus' voice was, inherently, more sharp than it was soft; he'd never been a gentle speaker, necessarily, but he tried hard to be one right now for his friend's sake. He didn't want his exasperation to show— not the full extent of it. "Why do you want to see Darra?"

"I miss her," said Anakin flatly. He sounded just the way he had when he'd answered the door; as though his words were a pre-programmed response to just the kind of question Ferus was posing him.

"You can't beat yourself up over her forever," Ferus pointed out. "You can't keep beating yourself in the head with this, and expecting—"

"Everyone else does."

"That isn't true! You—"

"Yes it is!" Anakin shouted, even though shouting hurt his head. "Tru and Ben both blame me; so do Darra's friends— and her mom and dad, not to mention everyone else we went to school with!" Anakin finally did look up at Ferus, then. "No one treats me normally anymore," he said, "and they haven't for years."

"You barely treat yourself normally anymore, Anakin!" There was that exasperation he'd been trying so hard to tamp down. "No one knows what to do with you; all we can do anymore is stand by and watch you get worse! You don't let us do anything else!"

"Th-this— this is why I stopped going to hockey," croaked Anakin, surprising even himself with the way his voice caught in his throat. He meant to say more, but he couldn't; his chest had already tightened, and his eyes were rapidly filling up with tears.

Ferus regretted saying anything about the picture at all beyond revealing that it was safe; alas, it seemed too late to remedy that. What was he supposed to say now? Anakin hadn't been able to solve this for ten years; Ferus certainly wasn't about to fix it in the span of a few minutes on a single, panicked, hung-over morning.

If he had that particular superpower, he'd have used it a long time ago.

"I— I'm sorry, Anakin," he tried. "I didn't mean—"

He stopped speaking when he realized that it didn't matter what he 'meant'. Anakin couldn't hear him anymore, because Anakin had started to cry.

When was the last time Ferus had seen Anakin cry?

The tears didn't come quietly; rather, Anakin's sobs made him shudder and heave, grateful he was still gripping the back of the sofa with his hand. When he started to double over anyway, he quickly resigned himself to hitting the floor— nothing he hadn't done before; nothing, even, that Ferus hadn't previously witnessed him do.

The confusion that overtook him when his knees failed to impact the carpeted hardwood was almost enough to shock him out of his fit.

Almost.

"Wh-what— what a-are... y-you—"

"Shh."

"F-Ferus, I— I don't—"

"Quiet," Ferus whispered, unafraid of bearing Anakin's entire weight against his chest. If anything, it was too easy to hold him up. "Just be quiet, alright? I'm sorry I said anything— I'm sorry I ever brought it up."

He felt Anakin shake his head ruefully against his breastbone.

"No," he shouted! muffled, into Ferus' shirt. "No, you— you're right; right about everything, a-and I— I—"

Anakin couldn't seem to finish a sentence; Ferus, for his part, dug his fingers into his old friend's back as a wave of conflicting emotions crashed into him: Relief, first, because this was as honest as the two had been with one another in an exceptionally long time; fear, too, because he didn't know where the hell to go from this point. His phone buzzed from inside his pocket— an alarm, he knew, telling him that hockey practice was starting. It made him jump anyway.

"Anakin," he said, taking an inordinately deep breath in an attempt to maintain his own composure. "Anakin, it's eleven o'clock— your kids are going to be—"

"I know! And if I— i-i-if I c-can't even c-clean up for them, th-then—"

"You can clean up for them, though! I've seen you do it; I've helped you do it!" Carefully, Ferus moved to peel Anakin's head away from his chest. He wanted to look at his face, no matter how difficult it was. Something told him he was going to be seeing a lot more of it, in the weeks and months to follow.

Anakin shook his head again, looking up at Ferus through his own wet hair and tears. "No," he protested. "Not this time! I... I just can't— you're right; it's too bad this time, I need—"

"You need to let me help you, Anakin! Not just help you clean; not just help you hide things from Padmé! You'll let me in long enough to do this," he emphasized, daring to take a hand from Anakin to motion at the room around them, "but you always throw me out before I have a chance to even try to figure out what else you need!" He could feel tears of his own, now; they were gathering at the very edges of his eyes, making him angry at himself. "You do that, and then you get mad at me for not understanding!"

"Ferus—"

"How can I understand?!"

"F— Ferus—"

"How can I?!"

Anakin didn't have an answer for Ferus— not then. How was he supposed to help him understand? After so many years of awkward silence and walking on eggshells, how was he supposed to know how to do anything else?

"I... I don't know. I don't know, Ferus— I'm sorry."

Ferus didn't know either... but once again, it had been years and years since he'd felt so close to finding out. He wanted to sit Anakin down and get him talking; in a very big way, this was the perfect time to do it.

...In a much, much bigger way, though, it truly wasn't— and that was because Anakin had more than just himself to worry about these days.

Ferus had been steeling himself against one thing or another for most of his life: He did it against his own long-repressed empathy and affection just then, telling Anakin with an utterly feigned air of authority, "That's fine— that's fine; you don't have to know right now."

Whether he truly understood his choice or not, Ferus had already decided that he wasn't going to leave today just because Anakin's house was clean. That meant they had plenty of time to figure it out together... as long as Anakin would talk to him later.

He hoped Anakin would talk to him later.

"B-but—"

"No," said Ferus. "No buts. Your kitchen is a mess, there's puke to scrape out of your rug, and your kids are on their way— the only thing you need to know right now is how you want them to see their dad when they get here. Do you understand?"

Anakin's stomach clenched, and he found himself having to repress one final, heaving sob before he could will himself to separate entirely from Ferus... who had, by now, been buttressing him for a rather extended period of time.

He did it, though— he did it, and once he was standing under his own power again, he bit down on his lip and nodded.

"I do," he said. "I... I do."

"Good— then go into the kitchen, and start throwing things out while I take care of your carpet. If we don't stop until we're finished, we might just be able to make this place look okay in time for Luke and Leia."

Hearing his kids' names spoken out loud seemed to be the last little spark Anakin needed to ignite his motivation: He came unstuck from the floor, then... that newly-bare coffee table in front of the couch finally having become a source of relief rather than fear.

Darra is as safe as she's ever going to be, his brain reminded him, far more gently than it had told him anything else that day. Leave her, just for now— Ferus is right.

It seemed he really was... because once Anakin started scraping old food into the trash, loading up his dishwasher, and soaking his pots, he felt significantly more capable than he had when he'd woken up. Not better, necessarily... but certainly more apt, if nothing else.

He'd desperately needed the boost of confidence.

"I still don't know how I'm going to be 'on' for them," he confessed, when the two finally met in the living room to survey the house at the tail-end of their mutual cleaning endeavour. Ferus had just ascended from the basement, having loaded some laundry into the washer; Anakin had just put the finishing touches on the kitchen.

"What do you mean 'on'? They're your kids." Driven purely by old instinct, he took Anakin's hand in his; held it tight. It felt as natural as anything.

Anakin didn't pull away, because why would he have? Ferus hadn't held his hand in years; so many that he'd barely realized how much he'd missed it. He also couldn't help but laugh: Ferus didn't understand, because he didn't have children of his own. "That's exactly it," he said. "They are my kids. They're six years old; they're going to want to talk, play, and have fun... and because I was an idiot all week, I still feel too much like shit to be what they need me to be."

Ferus thought.

"...We could take them to a movie together," he offered tentatively. That fake authority he'd been injecting into his voice back before Anakin had begun to come around was all but gone, right along with his own initial desire to leave.

If anything, he was now far more frightened of being sent away than he was at the notion of staying behind to help.

"You can sit in the dark for a little while," he went on, when Anakin didn't answer him right away. "And drink some water, too. I'll do the driving, and the kids will think it's all for fun; by the time we get back here, you'll feel a lot better." With his eyes instead of his mouth, Ferus added to that, If you're as tired as you look, you can even rest your head on my shoulder for a while and try to fall asleep— just like you always used to. Few things had felt better to Ferus, back when he'd still been nineteen.

Anakin was a bit slow sometimes, but he wasn't stupid: He more than understood. Although he smiled, Ferus' offer was nearly enough to start him crying again; the only thing that stopped it was a noise— one that seemed sudden, but really wasn't.

He turned his head, because he could hear the gravel in the driveway crunching beneath the tires of what he already knew to be his ex-wife's little green sedan. (It did not escape him that the sound would never have wafted through the front window so clearly, had Ferus not had the prescience to open it when he'd arrived.)

"...Ferus," he said, voice catching in his throat yet again as somebody outside opened and shut one of the car's doors. "I... I think a movie is a good idea, but I— I... I'm also still sorry for—"

"Don't be." Ferus squeezed Anakin's hand one last time, then released it in favour of motioning towards the front door, as if to usher him in its direction. "You don't have time for 'sorry' right now, remember?"

Anakin nodded. "...Still," he said, grasping the knob, "I know I need to make this up to you, and I will— I promise."

Briefly, Ferus paused to think. "...If you really want to make it up to me," he proposed with an admittedly sly smile, "then you can do it by coming to the game on Wednesday. How does that sound?" He felt especially satisfied with himself, because he knew Anakin didn't have time to argue with him. Besides— during their initial phone conversation, he had promised to do 'anything' in return for Ferus' help.

"I— Ferus, you know I haven't been to the arena in—"

Just then, there was a knock at the door: It was quick and enthusiastic, almost certainly belonging to either Luke or Leia (but probably Luke).

Anakin half-sighed, and— feeling for all intents and purposes as though he didn't have any other options available to him— reluctantly agreed to Ferus' condition. "...Fine," he said, "I'll come by, but I really don't think—"

It didn't matter what Anakin thought, though, because he'd already begun to open the door... and as soon as the gap was wide enough for Luke and Leia to slide in past one another, they did: Calling out greetings to both their dad and to their newly-grinning 'uncle' Ferus beside him— whose presence, of course, they didn't think twice about as they bounded into the freshly-tidied living room, immediately taking it upon themselves to make it their own.

They had no idea what it (or their dad) had looked like mere hours before... and now, thanks to Ferus, they wouldn't have to. All Luke and Leia needed to know about their dad today was that he loved them, and (hockey or no hockey) Ferus was going to make sure that his love for them was all they got to see this weekend.

Anything else he and Anakin needed to worry about, they could worry about it later on— together, the way they always should have.

[aeonghaseyo]

Around You

Summary: The actions of a street cat taught you to shoot your shot and approach the older Kambal. But it didn't necessarily mean you had to change into a cat yourself to get his attention. ...right?

Word Count: 1459 AO3 link

Relationships: Crispin x CatSigbin!Reader Category: F/M Characters: Manang Muning, Crispin, Basilio Languages used: English, Tagalog Author's Note: I saw @adarlingwrites's sigbin OC in her Tumblr and I thought, why not write a fic with a cat sigbin reader? And here we are. 'Sup Crispin simps, I dedicate this to you. I hc that he's fond of cats, but that will have to wait until the next chapter. Enjoy! Inspired by the song Around You by LOONA Hyunjin

Chapter 1

“Halika dito anak, kumain ka muna.”

Manang Muning’s hushed tone beckoning you to join her and the rest of her feline family for dinner gave you a sense of comfort amidst the turbulent feelings that stirred your being. Normally, someone like you, who thrive among the middle-class folk in Malate, would help themselves to a pint of ice cream just for love troubles. But then again, you couldn’t refuse freshly-cooked daing straight from the old woman herself, which was why you went to her stall that one peaceful evening.

Out of the need to seek comfort through food prepared by your favorite vendor by the church, you quickly wolfed down the pieces of smoked fish in your plate, of course trying not to ingest the spines that clung to the meat. It didn’t take long before Manang Muning noticed your troubled disposition mid-meal and placed a hand on your back soothingly.

“(Y/n), anak, parang nagdadalamhati ka yata,” she spoke, which got your heart fluttering in surprise.

After swallowing that one last bite of your meal, you turned to her and said, “Okay lang po ako Manang. Wala lang ‘tong iniisip ko.”

Another wave of surprise caught you on your toes when Manang Muning once again asked, “Tungkol ba ito kay Crispin?”

Eyes widened, you mustered a quick response that turned into yet another question, “P-paano niyo po nalaman?”

Your inquiry made the old woman laugh heartily while a tuxedo cat nearby sauntered towards her, nudging her forearm to ask for more pets. As she let the cat settle on her lap, Manang Muning finally replied, “Anak, malapit ang loob natin sa isa’t-isa. Tuwing nakikita ko ang paningin mo, parati kong nakikita ang pagmumukha ng lalaking yun. Mukhang sinusundan mo yata pagkatapos mong samahan ang aking mga pusa kapag malapit sila sa pinanggalingan nila ng munting Trese.”

You didn’t think that every time you would be in your cat form tailing after Alexandra Trese and her adoptive twin brothers, your beloved old friend would tap into your vision just to see how you were doing. It was apparent that you weren’t bound to make advances of your own towards the trio in black, especially the short-haired twin, and even in plain sight you weren’t much noticeable. After all, who would pay mind to a small house cat, let alone think that it had emotions of its own?

Your heart sinking within your chest, you let your head bow down and your eyes closed as you dwelled in your disappointment. Trusting in Manang Muning, you let out the woes that plagued you that involved you, Crispin, your habit of stalking him whenever he’s nearby, and how you couldn’t get yourself to approach him and let him know you exist.

A chuckle made its way through the old woman, then she wrapped her arm around you, squeezing the farthest arm of yours from her soothingly and began to impart advice of her own. “Anak, talagang hindi mo makukuha yung taong gusto mo kapag naghihinayang ka masyado. Talagang kailangan mo siyang lapitan para mapansin ka niya.”

It didn’t help that whenever Manang Muning would soothe you with advice of her own in such a comforting manner that your eyes would tear up automatically. As you heard her tranquil voice speaking to you, your eyes were glossed with tears which also somewhat accumulated on your lower eyelids.

So you inadvertently looked like the puppy eyes emoji in Facebook Messenger when you looked at her and said, “Di ko po alam kung paano.”

“Anak,” Manang Muning calmly chided as she stroked the tuxedo cat who was nestled on her lap, “tignan mong mabuti itong alaga ko. Kanina, gusto niyang haplusin siya kaya niya hiningi ‘to sa akin. Hinaplos ko siya at hanggang ngayo’y hinehele ko siya gamit ang haplos ko. Alam mo kung bakit nakuha niya ang haplos na gustong-gusto niya?”

You glanced both at the cat in question and looked back at the old woman. It was then that you realized what you could do to charm the demigod you were yearning for.

---

From the way you held your ice cream cup as you feasted on the frozen dairy treat, you were nervous as hell, and it was very telling. You could have sworn that your ice cream permanently rendered your hands akin to popsicles as you stared at the dessert on your non-dominant hand. You knew what to do the next time you encounter Crispin, but how would you pull it off smoothly?

Remembering that one night when Manang Muning imparted a valuable lesson to you to limit your hesitations and shoot your shot with the demigod, you knew very well that she meant to tell you to just approach him. It didn’t mean she recommended you to change into your cat form and get his attention the way that other cat did to your beloved manang. But then again, it was your idea. You told her you were going to get Crispin’s attention as a cat. Everyone loves cats right? Besides, it was better than stalking your object of adoration from the alleys and in plain sight, even just as a regular house cat. (Or street cat? Technically, you did have a home.) Love really makes you come up with stupid ideas for sure.

Speak of the devil.

The demigod twins were right at your proximity, and you could tell from the ringing of the entrance door which revealed the both of them entering the premises. Basilio, the younger, long-haired twin, was chattering away while Crispin seemingly paid no mind to him. It seemed strange, however, that their Bossing was not with them. It didn’t take long for you to notice that you were staring at them as the older twin glanced at you for a moment, prompting you to look away and finish your ice cream. What you failed to see next was him smirking to himself before he went to the food aisle.

Your thoughts plagued you as you paused and stared at your now empty cup.

‘God, I can’t believe that shameless idea came to mind. If this backfires I’ll never find love again. Why is this so hard?!’

The stress that accompanied your thought made you unknowingly snap your tiny spoon in two with one hand. It did not help that since the twins were nearby, the sound was enough to make them notice, so their heads immediately turned to where you sat.

“Yikes, the spoon did nothing wrong,” said Basilio in a joking manner as he got a bag of chips from the display rack.

Clearing your throat, you muttered a "sorry" as you got up from where you were and walked to the cashier with your wallet in one hand, wishing to buy another cup of ice cream to calm yourself down. You immediately asked the cashier to serve you that same flavor of ice cream that you loved so much, but as you fished through your wallet for a smaller bill, you noticed that all you had was a 1000-peso bill. As soon as the young man behind the cash register handed you the frozen treat, you blurted out, "I'm sorry, I don't have a smaller bill, do you have change for 1000 pesos?"

The cashier, checking the cash register for enough money for your change, grimaced slightly as he said, "Sorry ma'am, we don't have enough change for that."

Your heart sank all the more as you realized you technically had nothing to pay with, but all of a sudden, you felt as if that heart of yours was caught and gently lifted up as someone handed the cashier the exact amount of money you were supposed to pay the him. You looked closely at the arm and the man it belonged to, and your heart skipped a beat as you noticed that it was actually Crispin who handed the money.

A blush formed on your cheeks as you thanked him for the treat. "I-I have to repay you that same amount next time, don't I?"

Crispin winked at you and replied, "Of course not. Unless you wanna see me again. Now go enjoy your ice cream before it melts."

That smooth motherfucker.

'Jokes on you. I'm the one who's melting, not the ice cream.'

You walked back to that same table you sat by, savoring your first small scoops of ice cream with a new spoon as you glanced back at your crush and his twin brother. By the looks of it, the younger twin seemed to be teasing his kuya, nudging him a few times with a shit-eating grin on his face. Maybe you finally got through to Crispin?

Now you began to second-guess turning into a cat to get his attention.

[clandestineloki]

hiraya manawari

-“may the wishes of your heart come true”

It's nothing like Asgard, but it feels like home. What exactly about a place made it feel like home? Was it because it was a festival and they were more open to people? Was it because it was home to you, so it was home to him? He didn't know. But what he did know was he'd be coming back here with you a bit more frequently.

=

A/N: Translations are available here! 

=

"TAHOOOOOOOOOOO!"

You squeak in excitement for the nth time today and run to the other side of the road. Loki- who's tagging along- teleports over to you and reclaims your hand in his.

"Could you be careful? I understand your excitement but you won't be excited for long if you get hit by a car."

"Loki, it's fine! Besides, I'm still used to having a third eye when it comes to crossing the street. What can I say? My mama was smart, and so am I!"

Loki chuckles. "You screamed at the airport because you couldn't find me."

You roll your eyes. "NAIA's really big, don't blame me. Ah, kuya, dalawa pong bente na may sago!- And give me a break, I couldn't sleep on the flight home- Ha? Ano po? Mainit? Ah, yes po! Thank you po!"

"That's another thing. How can you switch from one language to another so easily?"

You raise both eyebrows at his question before turning back to the taho vendor speaking in fluent Tagalog, then turn back to Loki, holding out two plastic cups. "I kinda got used to it. I learned two languages starting from when I was two."

Loki's eyes widen, and you laugh at his visible confusion.

"Wait till you hear me swear in Kapampangan."

Three languages? There's still a lot Loki apparently doesn't know about you. It's why he wanted to join you here, so he could get to know this side of you.

The taho man laughs as Loki stands there in befuddlement, and then turns to you. "Amerikano tong boyfriend mo, noh, iha?"

You turn red, and look away nervously.

"Opo, dalaw lang ho kami sa Pahiyas," you nod respectfully.

Another thing: You were one of the sweetest people in the Tower, which is why you had everyone- especially Loki- wrapped around your pinky finger. You couldn't help saying so many sorry's and thank you's, nodding and always keeping a smile on your face. The first time Loki saw you, you accidentally bumped into him and wouldn't stop apologizing. You left in a fluster and he'd always be seeking you out ever since.

"Loki! We're only a few blocks away from my house! Come on, my parents said they'd keep it a secret so we could surprise my Titos and Titas and cousins!"

You tug on his arm and run the whole street down to your house, Loki following after you. He wants to call your attention to slow down, but he stops once he sees you halting in your steps.

"Love?"

You take in a shaky breath, smiling up at your house, tears of joy and nostalgia forming in your eyes.

"...It's just the way it was before I left," you breathe out, turning to Loki. "I can't wait to show you everything and everyone. They're all gonna love you."

He smiles too. He can't wait either.

So you go up the steps and knock on the door.

You can hear the voices of your younger cousins, your older cousins, your Titos playing Pusoy Dos, and your Titas as they clamor in the kitchen, probably preparing some Pancit Luglog and Lumpiang Shanghai.

After a moment, the door opens, and you're met with the face of your ten year-old cousin, Ruben.

His jaw drops as he looks up at you. "Ate Y/N?"

Everyone suddenly stops, and turns to you, and you hold your hands out and grin.

"Happy Fiesta!"

The first one that screams is your Mama, as she drops the tongs in her hand and runs to you, scooping you up in her arms as she scatters kisses all over your face. Your Titos have stood up, and your cousins have stopped playing Mobile Legends to stare at you as if to make sure you were real, before running to you.

"Anak!" She squeals, squeezing you tighter. "Ang ganda-ganda mo na!"

You pout, "Ma, dalawang taon palang ako sa US! Drama-drama nyo! Missed you so much!"

Your dad comes out from the kitchen, wearing an apron. "Oi, anong komosyon dyan-"

"Dad!" you shriek and bear hug him, and he laughs as he spins you around before setting you down.

"Naku naman kayo, parang ang tagal ko naman nawala!"

Your cousin Ruben tugs on your shirt as he hops onto your waist. You laugh as you carry him higher.

"Ruben! My gosh, ang bigat mo na! And how tall have you gotten?"

"Four feet and seven inches!" He says proudly. "Ate, I missed you so much! Wala nang gumagawa ng ice candy para sakin!"

"Aww, Ruben, na-miss din kita, wala na kong pinipikon!" You pinch his cheeks and he groans.

"Oi, Y/N," one of your kuya cousins shout at you, then does the Filipino lips pointing thing toward the door. "Sinong jowa mo?"

"Oh!" You turn around, pulling Loki into the room. "Fam, si Loki. Boyfriend ko."

You know they've heard about Loki on the news, but you've made it clear to them he isn't evil, that he was manipulated and mind-controlled.

You're scared to death until your Tita Luisa squeals teasingly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Loki is just as relieved.

"Ang gwapo naman ng nabingwit mo!" She pulls the both of you into the center of the room. "I'm Tita Luisa, the favorite Tita of Y/N-" you snort at this. "But you can call me 'Ta Lu if it's easier."

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Wow, ate! English speaking!"

Your older cousins are already chattering away at how lucky you are to have Loki.

"Nako nako, maharot ka ba dito sa jowa mo? Or malibog-"

You whack your cousin on the head before pulling Loki to the buffet table.

"We better get some food, we didn't eat much on the flight," you tell Loki, before shyly looking away. "I hope they aren't too overwhelming."

Loki presses a kiss to your forehead. "It's alright, darling. It's not too much."

"Ayieeee!" Ruben points to the two of you. "Ang lambing nila!"

You take a bit of everything on two plates and sit down at the tables next to your Titos and Titas.

"Tito Gerry, hinay-hinay lang sa alak," you warn your Tito before turning to Loki. "Come on! Let's eat! I'm starv-"

You trail off in the middle of your sentence as you wolf down on all the foods you missed from the Philippines- lechon, dinuguan, menudo, pancit luglog, and so much more.

Loki chuckles at you, before taking a fork and eating as well.

"How's my daughter doing in the States?"

Loki nearly chokes on his food, and turns to your Mama, who laughs and apologizes for startling him.

"Your daughter's the best thing that ever happened to me, Ma'am."

"Oh, no, please don't be too formal!" Your Papa sits next to your Ma. "Please tell us more!"

"Your daughter always speaks so highly of you," he continues. "She loves you very much, I can assure you."

Your Mama smiles. "She really cares about her family, and she's always been so masipag- hardworking, and we know she wants us to live the best life."

Loki smiles, then turns to you. "She's always wanted the best for me, as well. I also want the best for Y/N too."

Your ears perk up at the mention of your name, and you clear your throat. "Oi, Ma, Pa, pinepressure nyo ba sya?"

Your Mama and Papa laugh. "Of course not! We were just asking him kung mabait ka dun sa States!"

"Aba! Syempre! Isa akong santo!" You playfully pretend to pray and your parents burst out laughing.

As you clean up, your mother taps you on the shoulder.

"Hoy, binisita nyo na ba mga Lolo't Lola mo?"

You gasp in realization. "Wait, Loki! Come with me. I'll introduce you to my grandparents."

You pull him up the stairs, and come to a small wooden table, with candles, flowers, pictures of your relatives, and in the middle, four marble jars.

"Hi, Lolos, Hi, Lolas, miss ko na po kayo." You bow, and hold Loki's hand. "This is Loki, my boyfriend."

He looks at you, holding one jar after the other, and realizes that cremation was something they did here.

"I know you would have loved to meet him, and you'd probably say ang gwapo nya, or something," you sigh. "Anyway, I love you, po."

He sighs as he looks at the bittersweet smile on your face, and rubs your hand reassuringly.

"Oh!"

He suddenly snaps out of whatever he was thinking about, and faces you.

"I wanna show you something."

You tug him to one end of the hall, and open a door, leading him inside.

"This was my bedroom my whole life."

It wasn't too small, it was yellow, a little dusty, but there were hanging picture frames, bookshelves, framed certificates and medals, and a small Walkman with earphones on the desk.

He couldn't help but notice you modeled your room in the Tower to look like this.

"I haven't thanked you enough for agreeing to come here," you fiddle with your hands as you step closer to him. "It's probably a bit of a culture shock, but I hope you can enjoy the festival tomorrow."

Loki furrows his eyebrows. "Of course I'm enjoying. I'm having the time of my life seeing you so happy, love."

He sits the both of you down on the bed, and the sound of his voice drowns out the Itchyworms music playing from downstairs.

"Love, I should be thanking you, because no one's ever trusted me this much. Letting me come with you is a blessing in itself, and getting to know the things you love- it's- something I never got to do for anyone else."

He pulls you in for a slow, passionate kiss.

"I have something to show you."

You scurry over to your Walkman, then to one of the shelves. You grab a tape and place it inside, flicking the on switch.

You wear one of the earbuds, and hold one out to Loki.

"Shall we dance?"

He takes it and slips it on.

"I wouldn't hesitate for a bit."

The two of you stand up, and you close your eyes to let the music and Loki's touch take over you.

Magkahawak ang ating kamay

Na walang kamalay-malay

Na tinuruan mo ang puso ko

Na umibig ng tunay

"Mahal kita."

You stop in your slow swaying and look up at him. He smiles sincerely.

"Mas mahal kita."

A/N: to my filipino moots and readers, i love you!! please show yourselves i wanna get to know y’all!!

[fuck-goes-on]

Kastila - part one

pairing/s: pero tovar x filipino fem! reader

summary: pero was part of the Spanish expedition with fernando de magallanes to find the new world. after the loss of ships and numerous months on sea, the crew was relieved to have found land. however, they realised they weren't alone.

warning/s: BASED ON HISTORY, historical people and events are dramatised for fictional purposes, period-typical violence, men, nudity, fictional ferdinand magellan is a warning

disclaimer: i am not a historian, i have done all the research i could do, if there are any inaccuracies, i apologise, this is only for fictional purposes

note/s: here it is! my first ever series that i hope wont flop HAHAHA just to be clear, i am filipino, born and raised in the philippines, and i just want to share my country’s history even if its through a fanfic, that means i will be very biased towards my own people and not be nice to the spaniards, awfully sorry :-)

masterlist ¦¦ next

Pero was sick of the sea.

He never really liked it growing up as a kid, and his feelings about it didn't change as an adult. So you'd think he would turn down the opportunity to be a part of the crew that would find the New World. But, the pay was large and a small part of himself was curious of what they would find.

Pero was sick of the men.

They were loud and boisterous, proud and thick-skulled. He never participated in their daily drinking, always nursing a bottle to himself in his cot, and judged them hard whenever they fought and beat each other up. The men were tiring and he wondered if he could just throw himself into the sea.

Pero was sick of Magallanes.

The man was the head of the expedition, the proudest of them all. His ideas were impressive, and the fact that the Portuguese man went to a Spaniard king for approval and resources after being rejected by his own king was admirable. Doesn't excuse the fact that the man was a complete asshole; Always looking down upon the crew and thinking he was better than the rest of them.

It had months and months of nothing but water, the men were starting to become more irritable, if that was even possible, and Magallanes was slowly going mad with his ideas. Pero paid none of them any attention, focusing on sharpening his swords and polishing his armour for nothing. Their rations were decreasing and soon all they were eating was bread and cheese. With the loss of three ships, they were dancing with death.

Pero was training with one of the men, slashing at the other with his swords, when another crewmate shouted. Everyone, including him, straightened up and ran to get their weapons. He watched with his swords clutched in his hands as Magallanes looked over the horizon with his spyglass. Everybody waited with bated breaths, and when the Portuguese man turned around with a bright face, all the men cheered loudly.

There was finally land spotted, and Pero could not thank God enough.

As the Victoria neared the shore, the crew prepared for a disembarking of the ship. Pero walked to the edge of the hull to inspect the sand and the trees. His eyes were no longer as sharp as they were when he was younger, but he was sure to have seen a silhouette move in the large coconut trees. However, he was quickly pulled away to help the crew before he could say anything to the captain.

When the ship was anchored down as close to shore as possible, Pero joined Magallanes and two men in a small boat to officially land. He couldn’t help but have a bad feeling stirring in his gut, and it only increased just after stepping on the damp sand. As he walked around, not fully separating from the group, they were suddenly surrounded by armed men and... women?

The five natives had long dark hair, long enough to cover their chests, a piece of fabric wrapped around their head to hold it back. Their necks, wrists and ankles were adorned with beaded necklaces and bracelets, accentuating the black marks painted onto their brown skin. Their privates were covered by a beautifully sewn fabric, loincloths and skirts for men and women respectively. They held long spears made of strong bamboo and sharpened rocks tied to the tip of the stick.

One of the native women slowly approached Magallanes, recognising him as their ‘leader’, while holding her spear to his neck. Pero observed quietly, his hands never letting go of his newly polished swords. The woman had her breasts bared open for all to see, unashamed of her nudity, and even had the same marks swirling all over her skin. Her face was twisted in anger, her lips pulled back in a snarl. She was beautiful, he thought to himself.

“Kinsa ka?” (Who are you?) Her voice rang out, both harsh and soft at the same time. “Ngano naa ka diri?” (Why are you here?) Her stance was of someone who had experience, her grip on her spear showed that she was capable of killing them on the spot. When Magallanes didn’t answer, she moved to jab the man with her weapon when another voice stopped her.

“Anak, unsa imong gibuhat? Imong gipagawas sila karon dayon.” (My child, what are you doing? You let them go right now.) A man, dressed the same as the other natives, walked out from the trees with his hands in the air. The woman whipped her head back to stare at the man with a surprised expression before drawing away, the other natives following her as well.

Pero and the crew watched with astonishment as the man walked towards them, the natives bowed their heads and stepped away. The woman softened a tad and pressed the man’s hand to her forehead before stepping away as well, although with reluctance.

The native man was clearly of a higher status, the long dark hair tied back with colourful cloth and beads, a band decorated with feathers and fur wrapped around his head, and gold jewelry on his neck and arms. His smile was blinding as he moved to hug Magallanes, the Portuguese man too shocked to reciprocate.

“Rajah Humabón.” the man pointed to himself as he said what Pero assumed to be his name. He gestured to Magallanes for his name, to which he returned the favour. Humabón turned to the awaiting natives, shouting, “Moapil sa among piyesta karong gabii si Sri Fernando ug ang iyang mga tawo!” (Sir Fernando and his men will join our feast tonight!)

Humabón then used his hands, pushing his fingers together and tapping them to the palm of his other hand before pressing them to his lips, signing the action of eating. Pero sighed and relaxed his stance; He didn’t fully trust the people, but if they had food and were willing to share, then they’re his new best friends.

“Do you think they will actually feed us?” A crewmate whispered to Pero. He shrugged and clapped the man on the back.

“Compadre, I’ll eat regardless if it’s poisoned or not,” Pero said before following Magallanes back to the ships to gather the rest of the men for the meal the natives invited them to. He looked back to see the natives blending back into the trees and bushes, catching the eye of the native woman and bowing his head towards her. It seemed to please her and she walked away with her head held high.

“Father, why did you invite those men to our feast?” You asked him when you finally arrived at the centre of your village, your brows furrowed and expression tense. Your father looked at you with his eyebrow quirked upwards. 

You followed your father, the Rajah, back towards your village with annoyance. You directed your frown at his backside, gripping your spear tight and close to your body. The friends who were with you when you ‘greeted’ the strange men were wary of you, knowing how explosive your temper could be.

“My child, when you become the Rani of our village, you will find there are some battles you do not want to start and instead reach your hand out to make allies.” Humabón said, holding your hand in his, patting the back of your palm gently. You pouted at him, not satisfied with that answer, but you know you wouldn’t get anything more than that. “Besides, we should not waste our energy to these men who look like death and instead share with them with our blessings from Bathala. There is also the Datu of Mactan to mention.”

You sighed and relented, hugging your father a farewell and walking towards the hut where your friends were preparing food for the night’s meal. As you made your way, you couldn’t help but think about the man who bowed his head to you before he left for their large boat. His scar running from his left brow to the top of his left cheek was curiously handsome; You’d never seen a man fully clothed in metal and you wondered why they wore it in the first place; Surely it was too hot under all those layers?

Despite not agreeing on allowing the strange men to feast with them, you couldn’t help but be eager to see more of the scarred man.

[haravath0t]

parol (with filipina!reader)

Warnings: angst (if you squint), immense fluff, and a big word count (sorry)

Summary: The holidays are approaching and reader shares some of her favorite Christmas traditions with Bucky as they decorate, but a little incident happens. To lighten up her spirits, James surprises her on Christmas Eve. 

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you had a great Christmas and New Year! Now with time in my hands I was able to complete this work! I rarely see any Filipina!Readers so I wrote this, as Christmas and my heritage is something I hold close to my heart. It is my first one shot, so bear with me! I hope you all enjoy!

*italics indicate flashbacks!

Today was not your day. You wanted to go home after doing reports and paperwork, surprise Bucky with a nice dinner and pumpkin pie, video call your family that lived in the Philippines to open the gifts you shipped over to them, and call it a day. However, luck was not on your side. Oversleeping, last minute additional reports, agents that were slacking off during training, misplacement of papers, everything you could never dream of happening all in one day happened. You walked over to Bucky, who was leaning against the black car waiting for you as he toyed with the car keys. “Hey, sweetheart, come on why don’t we- you okay?” He asks, concern apparent in his voice as he watches you angrily open the door. “Swell.” Bucky knew better than to push you into talking based on the way you slammed the door and did the better option as he drove you two out of the headquarters to your shared apartment: wait till you talk. “It’s been a bad day,” you sigh in frustration as you look out the window, relaxing when Bucky nods in understanding. “It’ll be alright, sweetheart, talk to me.” And so you did, which led to you both agreeing on having take out for dinner to save yourself from more stress. The two of you were carrying bags filled with take out and lovely desserts as you went into the apartment, leaving you to close the door behind you with your feet. Unfortunately harder than you had intended to. The laughter had died when you heard the sound of something breaking not too far from you both, causing your whole face to drop. The once brightly lit parol, had shattered into pieces, leaving the lights inside to flicker. That did it for you. The tears that have been threatening to fall from your eyes all day have started to drop. “Y/N…” Bucky starts softly, cutting himself off when he sees you quietly and carefully approach the now broken parol, trying to pick the broken pieces up. “Y/N, careful,” Bucky says worriedly, putting his set of bags down to stop you from hurting yourself. “It’s… it’s broken Buck…” you say in disbelief and disappointment, sniffing as you wipe your tears. “Hey. It’s going to be alright, sweetheart. We can work something out-” “It’s my only parol.”

“It’s okay, hey we still can video call-” “My family had opened their presents by now.” Bucky was stumped for you to say the least. He couldn’t even figure out what to say to you over the quiet dinner table when you barely picked up your food and when you immediately retreated to the bedroom, quiet sniffles echoing. He knew that feeling all too well, having something so connected to your identity be taken away in a moment’s notice. He knew one thing though. He wanted to make you feel at home, and he was going to do something about it.

---

“What do you have there, baby doll?” Bucky questions as he watched you open a square shaped box. He smiled when you didn’t respond, a little habit of yours that he has loved knowing that you could not contain your excitement. “A parol!” you squealed, revealing a carefully crafted ring with a star shaped piece in the middle. It was made of red, white, green, and yellow dyed capiz shells. He had never seen anything like it before. 

He continues to look at the parol, blush forming on his cheeks in embarrassment when you laughed at his curious gaze. “Parols are pretty much Christmas lanterns back in the Philippines. They normally are shaped as stars and they light up at night! It definitely shows the Filipino Christmas spirit,” you explain to him as your excited eyes meet his. Bucky loved hearing you explain your culture, especially since you have been quite homesick since joining the team and having a place of your own. You did not want your family to know too much of what your job entailed. With that being said, whenever you got a chance to immerse yourself in the culture you grew up with, you always took the chance. 

“Want to help me hang it?” You ask, already finding the right spot for it. “Of course doll, let’s go” he replies with a smile, following you to the window to help. Bucky had to admit, the parol looked wonderful. He watched the lantern in satisfaction as it lit up in wonderful patterns, a sight he can’t wait to become accustomed to. “Must really take long to make these,” he remarks as his eyes admire the lantern. “It does… especially these, but they’re all beautiful.” You sigh happily hugging your boyfriend as you watch the parol, twinkling bright as the snow slowly fell gently outside the apartment’s window. 

“God I missed this. You wanna know something?” Bucky’s eyes turned away from the lantern and looked at you intently. 

“Yeah?” 

“This has been around since I was a kid.”

“Really, now?”

“Mhm! I always grew up being surrounded by the culture and my family and I always loved showing it off during the Christmas season. Of course not like in the Philippines though, but we always tried to remember home here. I hope you don’t mind. I asked my parents to bring it over, so I can have a piece of them with me.” The way your face fell in melancholy and embarrassment did not come unnoticed by Bucky. “I don’t mind at all, sweetheart. This is our place, right? Besides, it adds a little flare to our little place doesn’t it?” he questions with that charming smile, making you reciprocate it back in relief before you kiss his cheek. 

“It does… thank you.”

--- 

A knock sounds through the now quiet apartment, making Bucky immediately make his way to the door. “Oh, Mrs. Y/L/N. Thank you for coming.” He says, gently taking your mother’s hand and bringing it up to his forehead just like you taught him. “Ahhh, bless you, bless you,” your mother responds while giggling, making her way into your apartment and sitting down on a couch. Bucky watched in surprise as she took out several simple materials from one of her plastic bags: string, small string lights, bamboo sticks, colored cellophane sheets, rubber bands, and colored tissue paper. 

“That looks different from the one she hung up a few days ago.” Bucky commented in surprise, only for your mother to look up at him with raised eyebrows. “You don’t expect me to make one that expensive looking, do you? No! I’ll buy one for you two later. But for now, let me teach you how to do it the traditional way. Come here.” Your mother beckoned, making Bucky smile as he took his seat next to you, excited for what’s next. 

“Yan! (There we go) What do you think? Pretty good right?” Your mother smiled, clapping quietly as Bucky smiled proudly at the simple parol he had just finished making. It was a simple one for sure unlike the incredibly detailed one you both hung, but he desperately hoped you would enjoy at least a substitute for the meantime. “Wow..it’s nice… thank you…” he started, only to have your mother wave her hand nonchalantly. “Ayyy… it’s no problem. I’m glad you made the effort to do this for her. Thank you.” She laughed when Bucky’s cheeks started to turn red and pinched them before standing up and taking the rest of her bags to the kitchen. Bucky was then confused, from the additional bags in the kitchen, the urgent sounding phone call in what seemed to be Tagalog, and your mother’s quick paced actions. “Is there a way I can help?” He asks, shyly. Your mother couldn’t help but laugh once again, dragging him into the kitchen with her. “I called her father so we can do this.” 

“What are we going to do, exactly?”

“Bring home to her!”

You sighed in relief as the door of your apartment was getting closer and closer. It was luckily a better day, just training and meetings before you were able to go home. You were very much ready to be greeted by your lover’s arms and wind down. However, that wasn’t the case, for when you closed the door, a familiar scent filled the air. “Wait a minute,” you whispered in disbelief, hurrying to the kitchen and saw several foods that you have terribly missed: pork barbecue, chicken afritada, bibingka, and rice cakes. You squealed with joy when your mom and dad yelled surprise, not hesitating to hug the both of them excitedly as joyful tears ran down your cheeks. “I’ve missed you guys! How did you come here?! What?!” you question in awe and denial, which made your parents smile. “You have to thank your boyfriend for that one, anak (child)” your dad replies to a smile.  “I called them over. To hopefully cheer you up.” A shy voice says. You turned around in surprise to see Bucky walking shyly to you with his arms behind his back. “That’s not the only surprise he has for you anak! Bucky, show her! Show her!” Your mother beckoned, resulting in yet another confused look from you. Bucky smiled shyly and revealed to you the parol that he had made earlier, causing another gasp to leave your lips and more tears to fall. 

“Buck… you made this?” Bucky smiled shyly “I did… I remembered you mentioning that people were able to make them, so I asked your mom to teach me, so we can have this for the meantime. I know it’s not much but-” His words were then cut off as you tightly embraced him, then went up on your tippy toes to shower your boyfriend with thankful kisses. “Oh, it’s more than enough, Buck… thank you. Thank you, so much.” You truly were grateful. You were aware that it may have not been easy for Bucky to call them up, let alone build a parol, and you were amazed beyond belief. The two of you hung the small and simple parol that lit up softly in the dark night, admiring the cute sight as your parents took pictures of the two of you with smiles beaming on their faces. “Come on then, you two, let’s eat!” your dad exclaims, laughter filling the walls of the apartment.

 “I can’t believe you,” You whispered to Bucky, holding his hand as you both walked to the table. “Couldn’t let my girl go through her favorite holiday being sad, can’t I? What kind of boyfriend would I be? I figured you could have a piece of home with you for the holidays, so I wanted to give my girl a surprise..” You giggled and nodded and kissed his knuckles, your eyes meeting his wonderful blue ones. 

“I love you so much, Buck. Thank you. But my home wouldn’t be complete without you in the picture, couldn’t it?” 

“Neither would mine, baby doll.”

You took a final look at the parol and back at Bucky, smiling in content as he led you to the dinner table. You held that parol close to your heart, as it showed the efforts and the simple actions that you two took into making each other happy. The fact that Bucky would do this for you was remarkable to you, and that alone proved to you that it didn’t matter where you were, for James Buchanan Barnes was now always there to proudly remind you of home.

Tags: @world-of-aus​ @whew-oh-em-gee​ @lordyitsjordy​ @tomholland-96​ @letstalkaboutsebbaby​

If you’d like to be part of my tag list let me know! 😊

Main Masterlist

[sincerelyella]

Everything Has Changed Chapter 6

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Song inspiration: Everything Has Changed by Ed Sheeran & Taylor Swift

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

Summary: What if Liam was promised as a child to another kingdom’s princess?

Warnings: angst, tw: gun violence

Words: 1265

Four years ago

Liam & Ella’s last summer together

Ella wandered through the palace while Liam was in his classes during the day. It was a boring place when she wasn’t hanging out with him; a moment away from Liam was quiet and somber. She passed by a door that was glass and she was able to see inside - a large piano in the corner, several stands for sheet music either opened or closed, three acoustic guitars, and a cello. Ella smiled and pushed open the door, kicking a door stopper underneath it. She ran her hand across the baby grand and sat on the black bench in front of the keys. The piano was covered in dust and Ella sneezed, making all of it fly up in a big puff. Her fingers splayed over the keys and she began to play.

All I knew

This morning when I woke

Is I know something now

Know something now I didn’t before

And all I’ve seen

Since eighteen hours ago

Is blue eyes and freckles and your smile

In the back of my mind making me feel like

Suddenly, the door to the music room slammed shut so loudly that Ella thought she peed her pants. She turned and saw a smiling Liam.

“You scared the shit out of me! And aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“I’m sorry,” Liam moved to grab a guitar and sat next to her on the bench. “Classes are done early.”

“Early?” Ella’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you left early.”

Liam shrugged. “Tomato, tomato.”

“You really do this every week?”

“Only when you’re here,” he flashed her that charming smile and Ella could only roll her eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was listening to you sing. I shut the door to give us privacy.”

Ella arched her brow. “Privacy?”

Liam chose to ignore her question. “I know that song you were singing.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

“I like singing in my spare time,” Ella smiled. “I don’t have any siblings to do this with.”

“I’ll play with you.”

Ella’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know how to play that?”

Liam smiled. “I know how to play everything. Keep going please.”

Ella’s fingers danced over the keys once more.

Cause all I know is we said, “Hello”

And your eyes look like comin’ home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed

All I know is you held the door

You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

Liam smiled as he watched Ella play the piano. Leo hated playing any instruments so he didn’t have anyone to jam with while growing up. If he had known Ella loved doing this, he would have asked her to play a long time ago.

He strummed his guitar to life and began to play and sing along with her.

And all my walls

Stood tall painted blue

But I’ll take ‘em down, take 'em down

And open up the door for you

And all I feel

In my stomach is butterflies

The beautiful kind, makin’ up for lost time

Takin’ flight, makin’ me feel like

Ella had stopped singing as soon as Liam started, she smiled as she played and listened. Both of them had feelings for each other for a long while now, but this jam session made them fall in love.

An hour later

The pair walked out and began to stroll down the hallway towards the kitchens.

“That made me hungry,” Ella said as she curled her arm through Liam’s.

“Me too,” Liam stopped at the stairs and turned to face her. “I know this is arranged and everything … you and me. But, I love you.”

Ella’s jaw slacked. “For real?”

“For real,” he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Since you were like, 12.”

Ella let out a laugh, even though tears ran down her cheeks. “I love you too.”

Liam leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. It was their first kiss, and it was glorious.

**

Present-day

It had been four years since Ella last saw Liam; four years since her family fled from her home country to California. Her father, now in law enforcement and working for the LAPD, still follows the anti-monarchy group that attacked them all those years ago. The group’s leader, Rodrigo, and his second-in-command, Andres, who was Danilo’s head of security, spoke openly about finding the royal family. They claimed that if the heir to the throne was still alive, she still had all her rights to the crown.

Danilo always had a plan should people come after him and his family. He had passports with their new names ready for the three of them as they arrived at the airport; the family snuck through an underground tunnel to avoid security and video cameras inside. Unfortunately, once on the tarmac, Flora saw one security officer approaching them with his glock pointed at Ella. In an act of pure instinct, Flora yelled at her family to run and dove to take the bullet. Ella screamed and attempted to run towards her mother but her father pulled her away towards the plane.

“Anak, we must run!”

“Daddy, she’s dead!” Ella shrieked as she watched security lean over her mother’s lifeless body.

Danilo didn’t respond and just hauled his daughter onto the plane and ordered the pilot to take off. As he sat across from Ella, he felt the tears begin to fall. His wife of 35 years was gone in a split second. All their memories flashed through his mind as he pulled Ella onto his lap. The two of them cried the entire plane ride to America.

Once they arrived in the States, Danilo quickly found a job with help from his cousin. Burying himself in work helped him with the immense grief he felt from losing his wife.

‘Daniel’ and his daughter ‘Ellie’ arrived in California on a Tuesday, and by Thursday afternoon, they had purchased a home in Carson. It was a large two-bedroom house that was newly built and fully furnished. Ella figured they got such a good deal because of her dad. Even though no one knew about their past except for her uncle and aunt that lived down the street, Ella still knew that her dad had planned an escape route since before he got married. She had no idea what his plans were, but she knew that house was part of it.

Four years was a long time, but Ella still thought about Liam every single day. She knew he had probably forgotten about her, but she couldn’t help where her mind took her. She buried herself in school work and going out with her friends. Her father had no idea of course.

“Dad, I’m going to Riya’s,” Ella hollered as she grabbed her bag and ran out of her room.

Danilo quickly ran after her and stopped in front of the door. “Ella, we talked about this.”

“Daddy, we’re in a totally different country, with totally different names,” Ella folded her arms across her chest and pouted.

“Don’t,” Danilo shook his head. “Don’t do the face, Ella, I’m your father and I’m always going to worry about you. Hinahanap pa nila tayo!” 

Ella let out a sigh and dropped her arms. “I know they’re still looking for us. I’ll be careful. I’m always careful.”

Danilo smiled and leaned down to kiss his daughter’s forehead. “That’s all I ask.”

Ella skipped out the door and waited for her dad to lock it behind her.

“Hey, Troublemaker.”

[sunnymiles]

angstpril day 29

hello! very excited about this one, it was one of the first i wrote. do i know why it came into my brain? nope LMAO but here we are - also if anyone remembers me talking about a decapitation fic, this is it, we have arrived

i thought i would be able to do more angstpril but life has really gotten in the way so this will be my last one probably and i'll save the drafts i have for something later :)

i did not post to ao3 because i definitely think i am going to expand this one in the future!!!

also please laugh at this outline thing i wrote before starting-  “Sitsoka is now Yam Dooky’s apprentice bc reasons”

- 

prompt: going dark

[summary: Sith!Ahsoka has a familiar senator to assassinate, and an old master to avoid]

tw: major character death and decapitation

-

The job should be easy.

Padme was normally very visible at these events. Her idealism and love for the downtrodden always pulled her further into the spotlight. An admirable trait, but not a smart one.

The Naboo squadron of guards she kept would be virtually useless against Ahsoka’s abilities. They kept up the façade of protection, but they were no match for someone well-trained in the force.

It was perfect.

Ahsoka could just show up, and her lightsaber would make quick work of the senator.

Plans were made to be altered. A saying from her former master, but one she took to heart.

If she had to be seen, it wouldn’t foil the mission. This would be her public debut, and as long as no one looked too closely at her eyes, she could play the part of the naïve padawan fairly well. 

She’d had years of practice.

No. Anak- Skywalker would be the only issue.

Where Padme went, he followed like a lovestruck idiot. Ahsoka would have the element of surprise, but her former master was stronger than her, both in the force and physically.

Her tongue ran thoughtfully over the newly sharpened canines in her mouth. Perhaps, she’d get to try them out. It’d been too long since she had gotten to properly hunt.

The holocron on her hip buzzed urgently. The gloom of the alleyway was pervasive, but she knew she wouldn’t be seen here.

It didn’t stop the chill from crawling up her back.

Just the pre-mission nerves kicking in.

Dooku’s glowering face rose to meet her as she answered the comm, and Ahsoka decided she had preferred the silence of the haunting passageway.

“What a pleasant surprise, Master.”

“Don’t be coy.”

He never let her have any fun.

“Are you in position?”

“Everything should go smoothly.”

“For your sake, you had better hope that’s true.”

“Always so positive.” She grumbled under her breath.

For an old man, he had stellar hearing, and the sharp look he gave her made her spine straighten infinitesimally.

He ended the call with a familiar glare.

She had everything under control. This would be successful, she’d make sure of it. A chance to finally prove herself.

She didn’t need the Jedi, or Anakin, or even Dooku. No, Ahsoka Tano had only herself to rely on, and she’d never been let down.

Her steps from the alley were quick and measured. Silent on the street, as she swiftly exited the shadier parts of Coruscant. The small smile painted on her face gave her an approachable guise. No one would expect a thing, until it was too late.

Bright lights gleamed in the dark of night, luring her closer to destiny. A winning smile and a wave of her hand, and she was in.

The venue was richly decorated and full of sycophants. Gaudy gold pieces littered the walls, staining them with their elaborate decadence.

So garish.

Padme’s touch was visible in the lavish floral centerpieces, a staple of Naboo. Yet, there was no sign of the full skirts, and dazzling smile Ahsoka needed.

She prowled the top level, ignoring any attempt at conversation, and tried to find her prey.

Down on the first floor near the doorway.

A familiar senator accompanied by the cause of Ahsoka’s eternal rage.

Senator Amidala laughed at one of Skywalker’s jokes, exuding pure happiness.

Ahsoka couldn’t look at them. 

Abandoning her and then moving on as if she’d never mattered-

She couldn’t let her anger undermine the mission, no matter how justified it was. She scanned for someone suitable, there.

She grabbed hold of the Rodian’s feeble mind, seeking in like inky tar, and urged him to yell “Fire!”

As she’d expected, the crowd swarmed for the exit. Ahsoka vaulted over the railing in the chaos, ignoring the screams and hysteria.

Oh this was too easy.

Making sure she couldn’t be seen from behind, she crept toward the senator and her entourage.

There wouldn’t be a way to avoid him.

“Anakin!”

“Snips?” His head whipped around and his eyes were round with disbelief. 

“Hey Skyguy.” She kept her tone playful, her head tilted downward to hide the edge of her smirk.

“Yo-You’re alive?”

She knew the grin on her lips was positively feral.

"Oh, I'm alive."

"Ahsoka, I-I'm so glad." His arms reached toward her, and her step back was instinctual.

"We'll have to save the pleasantries, master." She swallowed her anger, letting it fuel the growing pit in her stomach.

"I'm here for... something else." Her eyes darted to Padme.

"Wha"-

Showtime.

She vaulted over the table separating her and Padme. The feeble guards around the senator could’ve been for show with how quickly she dismantled them. Her lightsaber cut through the duo with ease and Ahsoka felt the familiar thrill run through her.

Skywalker was still too shocked to be of much threat, but she knew he wouldn’t be down for long. Not when it came to Padme.

Her Togrutan roots sung as she finally captured her prey. Ahsoka bared her teeth in victory, daring anyone, daring him, to come closer.

“What are you doing? This isn’t you!” Oh, he wanted to play this game.

“Yes, yes, where has your snippy little padawan gone?”

She could hear the anger in her voice, but she was too far gone to stop.

“Oh I remember, you left her on Mortis!”

His eyes widened with something akin to hurt. But, Ahsoka wasn’t going to believe his little display.

“We-We thought you were dead, Ahsoka I would never”-

“I don’t care.”

The red of her lightsaber hovered threateningly against Padme’s neck.

Ahsoka leaned down to purr directly in Padme’s ear.

“I did always like you better."

A small quiver ran through Padme, but that was the only sign of her fear. How impressive.

“Ahsoka, let go of her!”

Her laugh was the only sound in the evacuated ballroom.

“Just stop, and we can talk about this!” His tone was growing more manic, and she relished in it.

Finally, to be the one in control.

She huffed a breath on the senator’s neck and watched her tense. “I hope you can understand, it really is nothing personal.” A murmur just for her.

Her blade sliced across Padme’s neck, forever silencing the idealistic Senator. The severed head dropped to the floor with a sickening finality.

She needed to get out of here. Now.

“Padme!”

Skywalker was dangerous on a normal day, but with the weight of what she’d just done, his wrath would be terrible. Not survivable.

She used the Force to jump away from the carnage of bodies. Distancing herself from the destruction in her wake.

“No, no, no”-

He was cradling Padme’s corpse to his chest, rocking slowly. Seemingly unable to accept the fixedness of her demise.

Pathetic.

But, this was her chance. She moved silently, careful to keep him in her sights, as she approached the exit.

Another job well done. The thought filled her with immense satisfaction.

A hoarse sob echoed throughout the room.

She should kill him.

The thought made her pause. He was alone, no Kenobi to deal with. Vulnerable and hurting.

Want coiled through her, the dark side pulsing seductively. Oh, to take out Skywalker, to repay him for his tutelage, for his abandonment of her.

She peered over at him, an internal debate keeping her rooted by the door.

His head snapped up and their eyes locked. The room chilled considerably, and Ahsoka could taste the Dark Side.

Anakin’s eyes flashed yellow to match her own.

Killing him would be more difficult, now that he’d subconsciously realized the futility of the Light Side. Rage and hurt tended to do that to a person.

She would know.

She’d be better off fleeing the scene, disappearing into the bustling streets of Coruscant.

A second option formed in her mind.

The words she’d been forced to learn, the Sith Code. There are always two-

If she played this right, pretended to have been tricked by Dooku, she could make herself a very useful ally. A few tears, and a sob story of the dark side taking hold of her mind- he’d forgive her. She’d just be the padawan he wasn’t able to protect, the one he’d left behind to this fate.

And then, they could turn their sights to Dooku.

She smirked.  Ahsoka turned and stared into the tumultuous rage pulsing within Anakin Skywalker. Such raw potential.

This was going to be fun.

[starlightkenobi]

My Padawan // Anakin x Reader (Part 2)

hiya! this is part two of a little anakin fic i did called my padawan! check it out before you read part two ;)

also: im really sorry this took so long i know i said it would be up on the weekend but there is a lot of personal stuff that i needed to take care of so thank you for bearing with me and waiting !!! love you all 💖

also also: anakin,,, more like anaking am i fucking right

rating: explicit

warnings: a LOOOOT of dom anakin 😳😳😳, praise kink, master/padawan kink, oral (receiving), a little hair pulling

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Use your words, little one. I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you, master.” You mumbled, eyes half shut with lust.

“Good girl.” His lips crashed against yours.

Despite your almost dizzy state, you could feel your lips moving against his on their own accord. He kissed you with feverish passion, leaving you somehow more flustered than you already were. Every caress of your soft skin, every soft touch to your cheek, every grope of your breasts was done with reckless abandon. He had been holding back for so long, just has you had been. Now, this was past the point of no return. There was no holding back anymore. He wanted to take you, and you were going to let him.

At some point during the kiss, Anakin pushed you backwards onto the bed so that you were laying beneath him. He trailed down to your neck, leaving deep purple marks in his wake. “Ani...” You trailed off, moaning at the feeling of the bruises forming on your neck and collar bone.

“Ah ah ah, padawan. You know that’s not what you should call me.” He immediately stopped all of his kisses and leaned over you. When he was above you like this, he completely towered over you, making you feel small.

You gulped, feeling intimidated by his sudden and very dominate presence looming over you. It was here when you realized how truly large he was in comparison to you. Not just in height, but his broad shoulders and toned muscles added to his overall large stature. It made you shiver. 

“M-master...” You stuttered, stumbling over getting out the title. It felt familiar on your tongue, yet this context was so different. So dirty, so wrong. Yet it felt so right.

He chuckled, deep and low in his throat. Close to a growl if you really thought about it. “Good girl.” He immediately resumed his assault on your neck, tugging at your shirt to let you know that he wanted it off, and he wanted it off now. He briefly pulled away, helping you tug it over your head and allowing you to reach around and unclasp your bra, letting your breasts fall free.

He sighed deeply, admiring your figure as his hands roamed over your chest, squeezing and groping. He gave both of your nipples a sharp tug, testing the waters. You practically squealed in pleasure and writhed under his touch. “You like that, huh padawan?” Anakin cooed. Although his tone and expression were soft, the words still felt somewhat demeaning. And you loved it.

“Yes, yes master, I love it...” Your voice was breathy and laced with desperation. Anakin could tell, he sensed how desperate you were for him, how long you had been craving him like this.

“I know you do, little one. You love having my hands on you. You would take whatever I gave you, wouldn’t you? You’d take it like a good girl.” Anakin had essentially answered his own question. He didn’t even need you to give a real response, he knew what the answer would be. You could see the wheels turning in his head, pondering what he would do to you as he grabbed every inch of your skin the he could.

“Ani-” You felt a sharp sting on your thigh, causing you to yelp.

“I already warned you once, padawan. I am your master, and that’s how you are going to address me.” His eyes were dark and intense, and you felt as if the bore a hole straight through you.

“Yes m-master, I’m sorry master.” You babbled your apologies, but he hushed you.

“Hush, little one. It’s alright.” Gently, and with love so strong that it was almost palpable, he brought his lips to yours.

It was like ascension, to kiss Anakin with no care for the outside world. It was here that you realized that you and Anakin were a match made by the galaxy. Two that were meant to be whole. You were brought together by the force, and with each touch of your lips, it held you together even stronger.

He pulled away, leaving you breathless. You whined, craving to have any part of him you could get. Anakin placed his hands on your face gently, soothing you. “You have to tell me what you want me to do, little one. I won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You whined again, struggling to find the words.

“Master, I want you to...fuck me.” Your voice was hushed, still hesitant to tell him what you wanted.

“I will, sweet thing. You’re being so good for me. So patient. My good girl.” His voice was like a blanket that enveloped you and surrounded you. It was safe and familiar, but somehow also new and scary. His hands trailed down your sides, resting on your hips and giving a soft squeeze. “First, I’ll have to open you up, get you ready for me.” He quickly removed your bottoms, eagerly wanting to give you all that he could.

Once you were fully undressed, he caressed your smooth thighs. “Can you spread your legs for me, little one?”

As if they had a mind of their own, your legs immediately fell open. You were softly panting, craving for him to give any sort of relief to the throbbing heat in your core. “Please...” You mumbled, your fists twisting in the sheets in anticipation.

Anakin gawked at you, mesmerized by the shimmering wetness on your thighs and fantasizing about how wet you must actually be. Still entranced, he brought his hand downwards and swiped two fingers across your slit, gathering your wetness. You whimpered, arching your hips off the bed and towards his hand. He gazed at your juices that collected on his fingers before immediately bringing them to his lips. His mouth worked over his finger tips slowly, teasing you with every flick of his tongue. He knew how badly you wanted him, he just wanted to tease the hell out of you.

“Master...” You writhed and lifted your hips toward him again, craving his touch.

“I know, padawan. I just needed to taste you. In fact...” In one swift motion, Anakin had shifted so that his face was between your legs and his hands were gripping your hips tightly, possessively. “I think I want another taste.” He licked a line up your pussy directly to your clit, gently sucking and licking around it. You cried out at the sudden pleasure as you began tp rhythmically grind against his face in time with his movements.

Anakin pulled away and smacked your thigh. “Keep your hips still, padawan. Or I’ll stop. And you don’t want that, do you little one?” Not even needing an answer to your question, he pushed one of his fingers inside of you, curling it upwards and gently fucking you with it.

“Stars...oh, yes master...I need you to...ah!” Your sentence was interrupted when he pushed another finger inside of you.

“What is it, padawan? You need it harder? Faster? Or are you just eager to take my cock inside of you?” Anakin chuckled, never breaking his gaze with you as he fucked you harder with his fingers. You were completely gone, and already feeling split open by only two of his fingers, you knew that his dick would be an interesting challenge to take on. “You would take my cock in you so well, wouldn’t you little one?” Another finger joined the other two, while his thumb began rubbing circles on your clit. You felt like you were floating, the only thing keeping you grounded during this mind blowing assault of pleasure was Anakin’s borderline painful grip on your hip, holding you down just to remind you to stay still and be good for him. “That’s because your my good girl. My perfect little angel. Aren’t you, baby?” Anakin cooed. He was practically talking down to you, as if you were some child. But at the same time, he was lifting you up and making you feel giggly and sated with his praise.

Unable to stop the onslaught of moans from escaping your lips long enough to form words, you just nodded your head in agreement that yes, you were his good girl. “Even now, you’re being so good for me. Doing what I tell you and keeping your hips nice and still for master.” His praise was bringing you so close. You were right on the edge, and the unrelenting pace from his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit wasn’t stopping. “I know you’re close, little girl. But if you want to keep being my good girl, you’re going to have to hold it.” Anakin’s voice was stern and deep, he definitely wasn’t budging on this. Even still, you whined pathetically.

“Don’t whine at me, little one. You are either going to cum on my cock, or not at all. You want to be my good girl, don’t you?” You nodded, trying your best to prevent your orgasm. Anakin suddenly slowed his pace and moved his thumb so that he could bring his mouth near your clit.

He punctuated every word with a slow but hard thrust of his fingers. “Then.” His hand tightened on your thigh, surely leaving bruises. “Fucking.” His eyes locked onto yours as he lowered his head down further. “Hold it.” His mouth latched onto your clit and his fingers resumed their brutal pace. It was a miracle that you didn’t cum right there. But somehow, you managed to force yourself to not cum. It was almost as if your brain wouldn’t let you, purely because he ordered it. Did Anakin even know the power that he had over you?

Finally, Anakin took mercy on you, pulling out his fingers and crawling on top of you. “Such a good girl! I’m proud of you, little one. You’re so good for me.” He held his dripping fingers in front of your mouth. “You want a taste, padawan?” Eagerly, you opened your mouth, letting him shove them in as you sucked gently. “That’s it...good girl.” Anakin praised.

A line of spit connected his fingers to your lips as he pulled his hand out of your mouth. “Do you want my cock now, little one? Do you want to take it like a good girl?”

“Yes master.” The words that fell from your lips felt so comfortable now, so safe. He was your master, and you, the padawan. The power imbalance was somewhat comforting.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, padawan.” You did so without hesitation.

After settling into a comfortable position behind you, he freed his dick and began rubbing it up and down your cunt, teasing you. “Please, master...don’t t-tease me anymore.”

Anakin gave a little laugh. Damn that laugh of his is beautiful, you thought. “Alright, alright, greedy girl. I’ll fill you up.” He did as he promised, pushing into you slowly and filling you to the brim.

Your fists twisted in the sheets and you moaned loudly. “M-master!” You could feel tears brimming in your eyes. Your cunt was throbbing and craving for release, a release that you could only get if Anakin fucked you.

“You want to get fucked, padawan? Well, what kind of master would I be if I denied my perfect and obedient girl what she wanted?” He set a ruthless pace, holding onto your hips for support as he pounded you. “This what you wanted, little one? For master to get rough with you? Fuck, you’re so tight.” The love that you felt for him in this moment was unparalleled. Anakin could surely sense it. Force, maybe it was even fueling his lust.

You were already so close, having been brought to the brink of orgasm only moments before. This one was not going to be ripped away from you, you were prepared to beg. “M-master...stars, I wanna cum. I want to be your good girl. Let me b-be your good girl and cum for you, please!”

“Alright, angel. You can cum for me, my precious little padawan. Cum all over my cock while I fuck it out of you.” One of his hands reached up to grab a handful of your hair, tugging it backwards and causing you to snap. Your orgasm exploded inside of you, a release that had been pent up for so long, dreaming the one day your master would give it to you. It felt like the actual force was running through your veins.

Clearly, clenching down on him was making it hard for Anakin to hold off his own orgasm. “Fuck, yes...good fucking girl!” He pounded into you, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout the room as you tried to ride out the last aftershocks of your own orgasm.

With one final sharp thrust, Anakin was cumming inside of you, filling your cunt to the brim. You could feel him leaking out of you and dripping down your thighs, only turning you on more. As he pulled out, you could feel even more leak out and drip onto the bed beneath you.

Taking you by surprise, Anakin scooped up the cum on your thighs with his fingers before shoving them back inside of you abruptly. You moaned, loud and pornographic. Had you not just been through the fuck of your life, you may had been ready for round two. However you were spent, already collapsing onto the mattress.

“Woah, padawan. I’ve got you.” Anakin laid down on his back, grabbing you and pulling you onto his chest. “I’ll clean you up in a little bit, little one. But I just want to lay with you for now. In a few minutes I’ll draw you a bath, how’s that sound, padawan?” He rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, lulling you into a tired and sated state.

“Mhm...” You mumbled into his chest. Using all of your energy, you leaned up to give him a kiss, making him chuckle and smile.

“Wow, someone’s a little tired out. That good, huh?”

“Mmm.” You mumbled again. You could have told him that it was perfect. That he was perfect. That for the first time in your life, you had everything you could ever want. You didn’t need to, though. He already knew.

[teresistible]

SONGS AND STORIES: Song Lyrics That Made Me Think About My Life 👸🏻

Entry No. 1: Perfect by Simple Plan

"Hey, Dad, look at me

Think back, and talk to me

Did I grow up according to plan?

And do you think I'm wasting my time

Doing things I wanna do?

But it hurts when you disapprove all along

And now I try hard to make it

I just want to make you proud

I'm never gonna be good enough for you

Can't pretend that I'm alright

And you can't change me"

My parents are my inspirations to hustle hard. I want to give them a comfortable life. Although it's impossible for me to give back all the sacrifices and love they have showered me, in the simplest and littlest of things, I am doing my best so they will not get disappointed. I try to be as obedient as I can. Every word they utter, I take it by heart.

Life is not about rainbows and butterflies, they say. My relationship with the folks is not an exception to that. Storms have challenged the strength of the love we have for each other.

I already finished my degree but unlucky me, I don't know how to figure out how the next chapters of my life would be. I questioned everything including my past decisions. I cheered myself up. I think I just need timer. Would a total reset be good? Maybe. I don't know.

One June evening of 2018, the rain had just stopped pouring. I found my self comfortably seated on a long bench outside the house. My father then joined me. We were just silently observing the movements on the street in font of us. That is when we saw his friend's daughter coming home from her office job.

My papa then said, "Maayo pa katong anak ni *insert friend's name here*, nakatrabaho na, ikaw? Giusikan ra nimo imong gi eskwelahan"

(Translation: "How lucky *insert friend's name here* is, his daughter already has a job, how about you? You just wasted your degree" )

The silent sound of my heart crashing was the only thing I heard. It drowned all the noise around me. It's hard for me to open up about my plans. It's hard to ask if I could maybe get another degree. I wanted to pursue writing even if I still don't know if that's what I really want. I wanted to say that I want to be brave and make this uncertainty certain. I want to know if this is the happiness that I am longing. Maybe this is my ikigai*. But I wasn't able to say anything. I stayed silent. In my world where raising your point would equate to disobedience and disrespect, I let myself die inside.

Nothing's gonna change the things that you said

And nothing's gonna make this right again

Please don't turn your back

I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you

But you don't understand..

That was a conversation from years ago but the memory of that random night still haunts me. It would flash in my mind whenever anxiety attacks me. It would keep me awake more than caffeine. I am not a medical professional to diagnose myself of anything but I know that there is a part of me which will always remain sad. That part would never see the light again.

"Are you proud of what I have become even if that's not how you have pictured me to be?"

I always want to ask him that question but I know my heart will never be ready for the answers. I am contented of what I have right now, anyway. Our relationship is good and I know that I am loved.

I hope to see my parents' proud and happy faces again just like what they have whenever I bring home certificates and medals back when I was in elementary and high school. I cannot give that to them now because what I bring now are life lessons. I pray that they will also realize that those intangible things weigh more than those material possessions.

I'm sorry I can't be... perfect..

Until that day comes, I will never lose hope!

🤞☺️🤞✨

Praying for better days,

T

— end

* ikigai is a Japanese concept that means your 'reason for being. ' 'Iki' in Japanese means 'life,' and 'gai' describes value or worth. Your ikigai is your life purpose or your bliss. It's what brings you joy and inspires you to get out of bed every day. (https://www.betterup.com/blog/what-is-ikigai)

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 28- In Shadow

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Returning to his hometown, Etho hs to balance his past with his present, as well as keep Keralis and Grian from embarrassing him in from of his old teacher and town. 

_______________________________

Etho always thought he was a handful- he may act mature, but his mind is full of mischief that would make even a criminal stumble. But dragging Keralis and Grian through the misty swamps of his home, he realizes there are more ways than one to cause trouble. 

Keralis goes sloshing away, swallowed up by the fog. The only way Etho knows he still exists is by the loud splash of the bug wizard, followed by a string of curses in his thick accent. Keralis returns to Etho’s side, wrestling a stag beetle and cooing at how lovely it looks. 

Grian on the other hand, Etho couldn’t get to shut up. “I think I have half the swamp in my boots.” 

“You could just fly.” Etho points out. 

“But I can’t see anything!” Grian’s whine echoes through the thick copse of trees, bouncing off submerged ferns and aged wood. “How do you even know where you’re going?” 

“Secret ninja techniques.” Etho muses, following the trail at his feet. Beneath the water, he can feel ridges carved into the stone, under the silt. Guiding him to his hometown. 

Keralis’s eyes get wider than usual at the sound of a branch snapping in the distance. He whips his head around, pulling on his hat and brushing closer to Etho. “Are you sure we’re alone?”

“We’re not.” Etho grins. Both Grian and Keralis whimper, searching the fog like they’re trying to see a ghost. They might as well be. “The town knows we’re coming. They’ve already seen us, even if we haven’t seen them.” 

“Ninjas.” Grian whispers. The trio continues in silence, or at least as silent as Grian and Keralis can be, sludging through the swamp. Grian chatters with himself and the bug wizard, his voice bouncing up cypress trees as tall as towers, clambering over the roots. He gets a foot tangled in the submerged vines, and goes headfirst into the slow moving brown water with a yelp. “Etho, when the hell are we going to get to this town? I haven’t seen any signs that we’re even close.” 

“Ah, yeah. I haven’t seen a spot of dry ground this whole time.” Keralis adds. “Are they on stilts? How does a town like that stay out of the swamp?” 

Etho feels the carved markings beneath his feet turn into a radiating circle, like a ripple across the surface. He stops, grabbing Keralis and Grian, a grin appearing on his unmasked face. “We’re here.” 

Grian turns around in a full circle, looking at the copse of trees. “Uhhh, are you okay Etho? This looks the same as every other part of the swamp.”

“Maybe it’s hidden in the fog? Fog magic?” Keralis waves his arms around as if he’s attempting to feel around in the dark. 

Etho leans against a root, grinning. “Try looking up.” 

Grian does so, and gasps. 

Above their head, a town hovers over them. Lantern lights split through the fog, unveiling themselves like a stage curtain, warm yellow glows dancing off the wood and paper. Beneath the strung lantern lights, dancing will-o-the-wisps above their heads, bridges of plank and rope connect tree to tree and guide the townsfolk across the swamp without making a sound. 

The fog continues to disappear, and the town of Shellor unmasks in ripples. Homes and businesses nestled in the massive trunks of the trees or perched on the expansive branches, the open air filtering the earth and water tone of the swamp air through bars, abodes, shops, and shrines. For a second, Grian wishes Mumbo was here to rant about the engineering marvel above his head. How much time it must’ve taken to build a town in the sky, where they even get the fire from, and hidden out of sight, out of sound. He never even realized they were walking beneath it. 

“How...how do we get up there?” Keralis tips his head, holding onto his hat so it doesn’t slip off. 

“Normally, adults can just climb up ourselves.” Etho launches from the root, grabbing hold of a branch and swinging himself up, higher and higher. “And Grian can fly, obviously. But- I’ll grab the basket.” 

“Basket?” Keralis watches the two disappear among the intertwining bridges. A second later, something is dropping back to the ground. It’s not a basket he thought it would be. It’s a lift of sorts. The wood floats like driftwood on the murky swamp water, the walls opening to invite Keralis in. He clambers on the wood panel, surprised to find that the weight hardly even shifts. Even when the walls pull back up around him and the basket starts to rise, he feels like he’s on solid ground. It’s the smoothest lift he’s even been on, something that would put Darlon to shame. 

Etho and Grian have their heads poking over the railing as Keralis rises up. “A pretty neat invention, huh?” Etho laughs, running a finger along the rope, watching the pulley system release the weight a distance away. “It’s not used often anymore, really just for when kids need to get down, supplies, the like.” 

Keralis stumbles onto the bridge. The warm glow of lantern light invites him deeper into Shellor, and the scent of food makes his stomach growl. Spices that dance with the mist, a warm rumble of quiet laughter from the nearby restaurant. But everyone’s movements are lithe and silent, even if their talking isn’t. Everyone in the town walks without a sound, like cats stalking their prey. Exactly how Etho walks, constantly spooking Keralis when he’s in the middle of reading or baking. 

It quiets down, and even Etho pauses. Grian and Keralis turn around, surprised to find Etho prostrating before a shrine. They never took him to be the god-worshipping kind. But they sit down next to him, looking at the shrine. It’s made of stone- how that got up here, neither of them can guess. Lanterns are kept aglow and the crescent shaped bowl protected with a carved wooden gazebo. After a few moments, Etho speaks. “Manys, god of the moon. Patron to Shellor, teacher to the art of stealth. I remember my first lesson to harness my power was to watch the full moonlight travel across the swampwater. Silent, but present.” 

“Is that how you learned to be a shadow ninja?” Keralis whispers while Grian lights a dying candle. 

“Nope.” Etho chuckles. “I definitely took a more...physical approach.” 

“Etho!” All three hermits stiffen at the shrill shriek of the shop owner a few bridges down. “I knew you’d come back! Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about all that candy you stole!” 

“Ah, that’s what you mean.” Grian muses, watching as Etho is given an earful by the man. It’s the first time Keralis and Grian have ever seen Etho embarrassed, the pale skin under his white hair blushing red, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Mr. Toku, I think Etho has heard well enough.” A warm voice, quiet but persistent, cuts through the berating tirade. Before her first syllable was uttered, Keralis and Grian knew this was someone of importance. An unusual sense of raging peace, like sitting next to a swollen waterfall in the middle of a forest, exudes from the woman like an aura. She turns, and immediately sweeps Etho into a hug. “It is good to have you home, my pupil.” 

“Hello Reverent Nama.” Etho squeaks, hardly able to breathe against such a tight hug. A weak smile appears on his face, the one person he missed most when he left being his teacher, the head monk of Shellor. Nama. He doesn’t even remember her real name, he’s always called her Nama. 

“Look at you, so tall! You grew like a shoot, Etho.” She grabs his cheek, looking at the scars on his face. “I still remember the day your magic first showed itself. Have you been using my teachings, anak ko?” 

“Nama, I remember it all. But you know me.” He offers a sly grin, but nods silently. “I still like to watch the moon, though.” 

“The best teacher, and the mother always with you.” Nama’s voice dips into a lower octave at her sagely advice, before rising back up as a smile creases her warm, deep toned skin. “But you must be starving, walking through the swamp. Come, bring your friends.” 

She waves her hands, blue and white robes beckoning the weary travelers deeper into the town. A glint of lantern light catches Grian’s attention, and his eyes go as wide as saucers at the sight before him. The biggest gong he’s ever seen in his life. Taller than Grian, even with his wings stretched high above his head, the silver metal glimmering like the moon at the center of the town. Archways decorate and dance around the massive instrument. Grian’s drawn to the gong like a moth to the flame. 

Only to be thwarted by Etho. He grabs Grian by the collar, dragging him back in line with Reverent Nama and the other monks. Keralis giggles and teases Grian even as they enter the raised, thatched house. Bowed roofs similar to the arches and pagodas they saw before protect angular, woven walls and open windows. The swamp breeze filters through the mat-strewn floor as Nama opens the sliding door. Nama disappears into an upper level, before returning with a steaming teapot and five different plates of food. The boys sit at the low table, suddenly alone with the leader of Shellor. Silent as shadows, her peers had disappeared. Like ninjas. “I assume this is not just a family visit.” 

“How did you know?” Keralis croons, sipping on the warm tea poured before him. His eyes light up at the fried, wrapped treat set on his plate. His massive bug eyes only unnerve Nama, repositioning in her seat at the sight of such strange friends Etho brought. 

“Etho isn’t exactly the visiting kind. A practical pupil, even to the day he left.” 

“Nama, you of all people know how to gather information. You see what the moon sees.” She nods at Etho’s words. It’s not hyperbole- it’s her magic. “Surely you have information about husk monsters attacking all over Lairyon.” 

“Why does that interest you, Etho?” Nama gazes over the rim of her teacup.

“We intend to stop it.” Grian states, flat and plain. Etho seethes, sending imaginary daggers at the blond angel before him. He needs to be more subtle than that! 

“Finally, someone to take up the mantle.” She responds. “I have heard worrisome things, are you three sure you can handle such a task?” When all of them nod, she continues. “Then you need to start here- husks have been attempting to enter Shellor for the past few days. They have broken through our mist barrier, but have been unable to reach the town. I do not think they will stop trying until they reach the bridges.”

“They want to steal your magic, your power. They’ll kill you all.” Etho growls. 

“Exactly as what my informants told me. Do you boys think you could defeat an army of mindless creatures?” She pauses, looking at their faces. Seeing the glint in their eyes and knowing. “Excuse me, I have underestimated you. It seems you have already done so before.” 

“We’ll need more than just your information, Reverent Nama. We need supplies, tools of stealth that only Shellor can create. We need to use every advantage we can find to stop these husks. To stop-”

“To stop Magistrate Dolios, yes.” Nama nods, a growl breaking through her neutral expression. “Whatever you and your friends need, I will be happy to give. But for now, eat! Tell me, anak ko, who are your friends here.” She leans over to Etho. “Is the one with the large eyes okay? Is he some sort of hybrid?” 

Etho chuckles, and welcomes the warm food of home into his body. He missed the taste of good palabok, wishing at least one other hermit could cook his hometown’s food like Nama could. He introduces Keralis, quickly explaining his magic, then moving onto Grian. Even Nama, in all her wise counselling, was shocked to learn he was an angel mage. She knew they existed, beneath the watchful eyes of the moon, but to see one in front of her? And in a guild as wayward as Etho describes? 

Their plates are filled as fast as they’re emptied, food appearing out of what felt like nowhere. Etho smiles as he hears laughter rise from his friends and teacher. He left Shellor because he felt restrained. But to be home? It felt freeing, now that he’s an adult. Now that he has his guild, he feels more connected to here than ever before. They continue talking well into the night, until the fog fades and the moon observes the quiet swamp. 

Nama closes her eyes, falling into a quiet meditation at the dinner table. But when her eyes open, it’s anything but calm. She rises so fast her knees almost spill the table over, robes fluttering like leaves in the wind. “They’re here. Oh gods, they’re already at the barrier.

“You wanted lessons in stealth? Well, lesson number one- don’t let your enemy see you.” Nama motions for another monk, and he casts his magic circle. In one deep breath, he inhales the magic. And a gust of wind from his lips blows out every single candle. Only the full moonlight bears illumination upon the town. 

And the distant crack of lightning, an ashen storm visible through the spindly cypress trees.

Townsfolk shuffle in the dark, accustomed but alarmed. Night is when Shellor is most alive, lanterns lit and moon in full view. Nama sends her monks to scout ahead, to be the first line of defense, before marching towards the center of town. 

Towards the gong. It reflects the moonlight, blue luminescence titillating across the silver instrument. A mallet the length of Nama’s arm is plucked from the arch, but she pauses. Looking over her shoulder, she sees Etho practically holding Grian back, the angle bouncing in his boots. Like so many of her other pupils, and who is she to deny him something so exciting? She hands the mallet into Grian’s hand. He wastes no time putting it to work. With wings unfurling and hovering at the center of the circle. One mighty reel backwards, he swings. The mallet strikes the metal, and both Grian and the gong reverberate in response. A low, loud ringing warns the entire town they’re under attack. Grian still feels the sensation of the strike in his arms even after he lands. 

“The husks aren’t after anything in particular- they just want as much magic as possible.” Etho warns, pulling free his kusarigama, watching the darkness. In the distance, a blood curdling howl of a banshee turns even his blood cold. He doesn’t want to face that beast on good terms, much less a creepy husk version. 

“How can you stop them?” Nama questions, dipping her arms into her robes. She doesn’t need a weapon to be dangerous. 

“There’s no crystal.” Keralis warns. “But there is a darkness storm.” He points to the distant canopy, black clouds roiling across the sky. 

“We just have to defeat them. One by one, it will weaken the storm and purge the land of their presence.” Grian flutters over the side of the bridge, looking down. Below, among the swamp water and cypress roots, monsters and mages scrabble up the aged cypress wood. Throwing themselves higher and higher, unlike Etho’s smooth agility to the town. “No matter what, don’t let your fighters get caught by the husks. They’ll turn into one.” 

“Stealth is our trade, angel.” Nama hums, arm reappearing and offering up supplies to the trio. Smoke bombs, firecrackers, magical climbing gear for Keralis, an enchanted mirror to Grian. “We shall do our best, but you three are clearly the masters in this battle.” 

Nama steps back, and bows. Pride swells in Etho’s chest, almost causing him to tear up. If he didn’t hear the snarls of darkness consumed being of pure anger, hatred, and power, he probably would’ve. He’s never seen Reverent Nama bow to anyone else before. 

And then she’s gone. Disappearing among her robes, the hermits next see her down at the roots. Battling with a cold rage, like sunlight reflecting off the moon. Etho hands a few smoke bombs to his friends, grinning. “Let’s raise hell, shall we?”