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sofya-fanfics · 10 months

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I Will Always Be Here For You

Fandoms : Naruto / Fullmetal Alchemist

Relationship : Edward x Sakura

My Crossover Ships Week 2023 contribution for the prompt : I'm here for you.

I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.

Summary : Sakura wiped the tears from her cheeks and took the phone. She had been crying for over an hour. She was crying for her two friends, Edward and Alphonse.

Disclaimer : Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.

@crossover-ships-brainrot

AO3 / FF.NET

Sakura wiped the tears from her cheeks and took the phone. She had been crying for over an hour. She was crying for her two friends, Edward and Alphonse. Sakura was from the land of Amestris. She was born in the small village of Resembool. She had lived there until she was six years old before moving to Konoha, her father's native village.

She remembered that she had cried a lot when she left Resembool. She had to leave everything she knew, her home, her school, her friends Winry, Edward and Alphonse. They were always together. Her house was not far from that of the Elrics’. Her mother and theirs had been friends since childhood. The last time Sakura returned to Resembool was for Trisha's funeral.

Since then, she had not heard much from the Elric brothers. She had known from Winry that they had gone to Dublith to train in alchemy with a master. She had managed to get Edward on the phone when they got back to Resembool, but he had been very vague. She had a bad feeling, as if he was about to do something serious. She should have insisted on knowing what they were up to. Maybe she could have done something. Maybe she could have talked him out of it.

Sakura held back a sob. Earlier in the day, Pinako had called Mebuki to tell her what had happened. Edward and Alphonse had tried to bring their mother back with alchemy. They had tried to do human transmutation, but things went horribly wrong. Edward had lost his leg and his arm. As for Alphonse, his soul was now inside an armor.

Sakura took a deep breath and dialed the number she knew by heart. After three dial tones, someone answered :

“Hello.” “Grandma Pinako.”

Sakura tried to control the tremors in her voice.

“Your mother told you what happened.” “Can I talk to him ?”

Pinako did not say a word for a few seconds.

“Fine, but not for long. Ed just woke up. You should expect him not to talk to you. He has hardly said a word since what happened.” “Okay.”

Sakura heard Pinako moving around with the phone in her hand. She walked up the stairs and opened a door.

“Ed,” Pinako said softly. “Phone for you. It's Sakura.”

Sakura waited a few seconds, wondering if Edward would agree to talk to her. She heard him pick up the phone. Her heart was beating so fast. She was both eager and anxious to talk to him. She hoped she could find the right words and not say something that might add to his pain. If she could, she would take the first train to Resembool.

“Ed ?”

He did not answer. Sakura held back her tears. She had to be strong for him.

“I'm sorry about what happened. I know I can't understand what you're going through. But I know you'll be fine. You are strong enough to stand and move on. I'm here for you. I will always be here for you.”

Edward did not answer and hung up. Sakura burst into tears.

******

Edward hung up the phone and stared at it for a long moment. Sakura's words echoed in her head. He would stand and she would be here for him. As far back as he could remember, Edward had always been in love with her and it had broken his heart when she left. When he had seen her again at his mother's funeral, she had held his hand the whole time. If he had listened to himself, he would not have let it go. Throughout the time that the funeral had lasted, she had become his anchor to not to sink.

Once again, Sakura had succeeded to shake him out of his lethargy with a few words. His eyes suddenly changed. He was determined. He was going to do everything for he and Alphonse to restore their bodies. It was a promise. He would not stop. He dialed Sakura's number and she picked up.

“Ed.”

Damn it, he thought. She knew him inside out and she knew he was going to call back.

“Thank you,” he said before hanging up.

Even if they were in different countries, he could see her smiling.

******

Edward turned over in his bed once again. He and Alphonse were in Sakura's house. Both had a mission in the neighboring village and they had decided to stop in Konoha before returning to Amestris. they wanted to spend the night in a hotel, but Mebuki refused.

“There's no way Trisha's kids are going to stay overnight at the hotel,” she said.

They had tried to tell her that they were used to it, but when Mebuki Haruno had decided on something, it was impossible to make her change her mind. Edward was happy to see Sakura again. Even if they called each other frequently, it was not like seeing each other in person. But even though Sakura was smiling, Edward could see something was wrong.

He sighed and got up. He could not sleep. He kept thinking about Sakura.

“Ni-san, are you okay ?” Alphonse asked. “Yes I’m fine. I'm going to walk a bit.”

Alphonse nodded and Edward left the bedroom. Maybe some air would help him sleep. He walked past Sakura's door and stopped when he heard a sob. He knew something was wrong.

“Sakura,” he called, knocking on the door.

She did not answer.

“Sakura, please let me in.”

The door half-opened and Edward entered. Sakura sat down again on her bed. She was holding a picture frame and even if she tried to hide it, he could see the tears on her cheeks. He sat down next to her and saw the picture in the frame. She was surrounded by two boys her own age and an older man. He had met some of her friends during the day, but he had not yet met these three people.

“Who are they ?” He asked.

Sakura took a deep breath.

“Sasuke-kun, Naruto, and Kakashi-sensei,” she answered, pointing at them.

The famous team 7, Edward thought. Sakura had often spoken to him about them, in particular about Sasuke. You had to be stupid not to understand the feelings she had for him. When Sasuke betrayed the village, Sakura called him crying. If Edward had listened to himself, he would have sought out Sasuke to make him pay for making Sakura suffer.

“After Sasuke-kun, it was Naruto who left for his training. And then Kakashi-sensei went on a mission. They left me alone. They abandoned me.”

Sakura could not hold back a sob. When she had explained to him what it meant to be a shinobi, he understood that the team in which they were in, became their family. They trust their teammates unreservedly and leave their lives in their hands.

When the members of Team 7 went their separate ways, Sakura felt abandoned, like she was not worth it. He put his right hand on Sakura's. He did not know what else to do to comfort her. He had never been good at this kind of thing. She shivered from the cold metal on her skin. Edward wanted to pull his hand away, but Sakura stopped him and squeezed it tighter.

“I'm sorry,” she said, violently wiping away her tears. “I'm crying for something ridiculous when you and Al have lost so much more.”

Without thinking, Edward hugged her. He opened his eyes wide, surprised at what he had just done. But he could not bear to hear her talk like that. She was heartbroken. Not just because of Sasuke, but also because of Naruto and Kakashi. She was in pain and he would be there to comfort her.

“It's not ridiculous,” he said. “I will not abandon you. I will always be here for you.”

Sakura hid her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her a little tighter. She smiled and realized she needed Edward. She had always needed him. No matter what hardships they go through, she would always be there for him as he would always be there for her.

The end

#crossovershipsweek #crossovershipweek2023 #naruto #Fullmetal Alchemist #edward x sakura #edward elric #Sakura Haruno #CrossOver #fanfiction #My writing

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a-luran · 9 months

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Daddy (you're my actual father figure, am soz), i hope you are well, we miss you over here, haven't really heard from you since that incident in your workplace, i hope that got sorted out, didn't like hearing how sad they made you 😭 I can always get rid of her if you want... I got my ways

The ScotEng ship is sinking without you, hope you can come back to us soon. Still waiting excitedly for that fic of Arthur running off to the country side after his wedding was cancelled, i been so excited since the day you mentioned it. Pls don't take down Bowmore 12, i love that one too 😭

Drink lots of water and get lots of sleep and take care,

Loorve, your children of Tumblr

Please understand that it makes me uncomfortable to address this publicly but I cannae answer privately. I don't want to talk about that incident, or think about it, especially when the question comes anonymously and addressed that way. I don't like being called that.

I never left, I just haven't had much to say these past few months or had any asks to answer. I did take down my stories from ff.net, including Bowmore 12, and made my older writing on AO3 private. I never thought I would but frankly I don't think anyone was still reading them and i didn't enjoy the writing in them; I was pretty young when I wrote them. I have plenty of shorter works on tumblr and AO3 for people to find.

About the romcom set in Mull specifically (wedding fic) I haven't finished it and I'm not really in a rush to post longfic at the moment. The Bowmore rewrite and the love that I hold for him are partly why; I have gotten more people telling me that they won't read them until they are finished, that the find the stories boring or unappealing, or that they assume the works are abandoned so they won't bother with them than I ever got positive feedback for them. I'm a slow writer, and it's a lot of pressure being one of the few people writing for a ship knowing that people see you as only slightly better than nothing. I know not everyone feels that way and i really appreciate people who have been kind but aye. I've been having fun showing a close friend my drafts and discussing ideas together. I've also just been having fun with other ships lately. I'll post more stories and one shots when I finish them and I hope people like them.

#freagradh

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annwayne · 4 months

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Thanks for tagging me @chaniis-atlantis !

How many works do you have on AO3?

12!

What's your total AO3 word count?

81,885

What fandoms do you write for?

Only have Star Wars fics posted on ao3, but I have wips in all these fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, Call of Duty, Predator, Riddick, Marvel, Baldurs Gate 3, Mass Effect, Grimm, Leverage, True Blood

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. The Red Logs: Return to the Temple 2. Humanitarian Aid 3. Ann Wayne's Cute and Spicy Star Wars Art Collection 4. Heightened Senses and Natural Perfumes: Reader Version 5. Cozy Sun Spot

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yeah! If I see them, sometimes I don't get the email and then I don't see the notification till I next go on ao3's desktop website lol Comments are what give me motivation. So I try to respond to all of them to let the commenter know that their words mean a lot. I know how scary it can be to write your feelings out to share.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh uh. none? I don't really do sad or angsty endings. I don't even have any wips planned to be angsty I just. I like the story to end happy. (though uh, I do know of one wip that will have a fairly sad ending)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, I can tell you know that my Baldurs Gate 3 fic will be the happiest ending because Astarion deserves it!!!!

Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yep! So far it's all been M/F and pretty vanilla tbh. I lean more fluffy and sweet with smut haha.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No. I don't really care for crossovers right now.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Kinda? We didn't finish it.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I don't have all time favorites I have current fixations, of which: Astur (Tav)/Astarion from BG3 and Awyn/Eric

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Hahaha no no no I don't want to admit xD Probably my leverage or mass effect fics. I thought I'd have loads of ideas and would write a ton in those fandoms, but the word docs sit blank. Mass Effect I think was just so complete of a story. I'm not sure there's anything more I want to explore? AU's maybe, but I dunno. And with Leverage, well, I think I just lost steam really fast for that fandom.

What are your writing strengths?

I'm great working in premade world. If there's a world and set up already made for me, I can write in it and write those characters.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I write too fast. Like plot pacing. I don't let things sink in.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

?? thoughts, is this something to have thoughts about?? Uh, it's fine? I've got a few fics that use dialogue in another language.

First fandom you wrote for?

I'm not sure... I think Adventure Time? Though that was a comic haha. I know for sure I posted a fic to ff.net for Ouran High School Host Club.

Favourite fic you've ever written?

In the past I could never finish long fics, so I'm really happy I finished The Red Logs: Return to the Temple. Now to see if I can finish a series of fics ToT I also really like how that fic came out. I think there's already a lot I would do to improve it, but it's just such a fun read. I dunno I like it.

#sorry I forgot to post this #I get anxiety about posting stuff #so sometimes it sits in my drafts bc I just draft it instead of posting lol oops #tag game #am tired no tags

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chaoticfvckingdisaster · 2 years

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Me: oh wow, I really like this ship! I can tell it’s really going to be a comfort to me! I love the characters and their dynamic, they’re so soft and cute! I should look up some cute fanfiction.

Me: *searches*

Me: *finds a few fics and starts reading*

The first fic: *super cringey smut* (keep in mind the people in this certain ship were 15/16 and had literally just met)

Me, closing the tab: wheres the bleach

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dayenurose · 2 years

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👀 for build a blurb? Rogue/Gambit?

Thanks @genial-jinjur for the prompt. It turned out this isn't so much a 'blurb' as an actual fic. This piece was a lot of fun to write. I didn't know where it was going to go when I started, but once I stuck Rogue and Gambit in a room together, well, they had a few ideas. I hope you enjoy. ~rose

(I'm still accepting prompts)

Proximity by DayenuRose

[ao3] [ff.net]

“Don't break anything,” the guard said as he shoved Gambit into the small office. (Small, exterior wall with a window, one camera—he assessed.) Stumbling over his feet, Gambit caught himself on the desk chair. With an unintentional air, he intentionally knocked over the large ficus and sent dirt spilling across the floor.

The guards chuckled raucously as they locked the door behind him. It would be child's play to pick the lock, and the guards hadn't even searched him for any of the tools of his trade. Of course, they weren't expecting that kind of trouble from him. They didn't suspect a thing. Especially if the direction of their conversation was any indication about what they thought of him.

“If I was him,” the second guard's voice echoed down the hallway. This was the one with the iron grip and formally leering mouth. Gambit was glad he 'accidentally' elbowed him in the face. “I wouldn't want to be locked in their with her.”

As the guards laughter faded into silence, Gambit straighten. He gave the other occupant of the office a cheeky grin and tried to not be obvious that he was favoring his bruised shin. “Bonjour, ma chère.”

“I ain’t talking to you,” Rogue stood at the window with her back to the rest of the room.

“D’accord.” Gambit sat in the office chair and spun around a few times as he slipped out of his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

“This was suppose to be a simple…”

“Non, chère,” he cut her off with a brusque command. Her jaw snapped shut biting off the rest of her words. While the computer booted up, he spared a moment to study her reflection in the window. Her face crumpled with a hurt he put there with his sharp words. Not wanting to leave it there, he softened his tone and allowed a hint of teasing to infuse his voice, “Remember you’re the one not talking to me.”

“Ah know, sug.” Rogue sighed as she placed her gloved hand flat against the glass. “Do ya have to be so good at it?”

“‘M sorry.” Gambit typed the stolen passwords into the computer. With a soft chime and a slight whirring, he was given access with his first attempt. The desktop was a mess of files. “C’mere.”

“We got ten minutes.” With one last lingering glance out the window, Rogue left her post and crossed the small office to Remy. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap.

Unable to help herself, she sighed happily as he wrapped both arms around her, his fingers tracing the silky seams of her gloves, and he pressed his forehead against her back, using her long, red curls for cover. “I really am sorry chère. It was the quickest way here.”

She shifted her position so she wasn’t putting pressure on his injuries. Injuries she’d been partially responsible for. Her fingers danced across the keyboard as she pulled up the requisite files. He didn’t mind, his hands were busy elsewhere.

“Ah know Ah agreed to the plan before hand.” Rogue slipped a thumb drive into the usb port.

“Shh,” he murmured into her ear and pressed a finger to her lips. “You know what they say about walls having ears and loose lips sinking ships.”

Playfully, she nipped at his finger. He jerked his hand away and grimaced in pain at the sudden movement.

“How bad is it?” Rogue half turned from her task. Taking in the damage done to his face for the first time, she gasped. “Oh, sug, I’m sorry…”

He shrugged it off. “I’ll heal. Suffered more over less, so figure I made out all right this time.”

“How’d you get so good at the flirting and making every girl in the room feel like she’s the only one who’s caught your eye?” Unable to look at him as she asked, she returned her focus to the task at hand. Starting with the files they knew they needed, she proceeded to dump onto the drive anything which had a tangental reference to the matter.

“Survival.” Twisting a lock of her around around his fingers, he breathed in her scent. Her scent was always sweet and complicated and reminded him of home. “Always working the room, looking for the next mark, the next warm bed to lay your head, the next opportunity.”

“Ya don’t got to do that anymore.” Rogue combed her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

Moaning softly at her touch, he leaned forward so his forehead rested against her shoulder. He hoped the cut on his face had scabbed over enough he didn’t get any blood on her dress. The pale pink dress had a fitted bodice which hugged her curves and dipped just enough to give a tantalizing hint at the full swell of her cleavage, while the skirt was composed of yards of gauzy fabric. His fingers traced along the narrow straps of the dress. The camera in the room prevented him from pushing the strap down her shoulder and lavishing kisses along her clavicle. Instead, his mind's eye drifted back to the memories of earlier this evening, before everything went awry. With the way the dress flowed around around her, she looked as if she was flying as she moved across the dance floor. Not only was he mesmerized by her, he was completely smitten.

“Je suis, mon coeur, je suis.”

“I just don’t like sharing…” Rogue murmured in his ear, her breath an intimate caress. “Ah knew you were just playing a part, flirting with the princess and all that…but all Ah ended up thinking was how good the two of you looked together. You’re so handsome…and she could offer you so much more….”

“Oh mon coeur, mon coeur.” He wiped away the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes before they could fall. “Everyone else pales in comparison to you. You are my life, my heart, my soul.” He kissed her hard, almost willing her control to slip so she could absorb the depth and breadth and width of his love for her.

Before he was finished showing her how much he loved her, an alert flashed across the screen and caught Remy’s attention. The download was completed. He broke the kiss. “It’s time.”

Standing, Remy helped Rogue to her feet. While he wiped all traces of the clandestine visit from the computer, Rogue slipped on his jacket. At the sight of her in his clothes, a growl of appreciation slipped past his throat.

“You know,” he whispered roughly, “it was actually a good thing you came around when you did. I was having trouble keeping the princess’ attention.”

“Oh?” Rogue raised an eyebrow.

“Oui. How is an homme suppose to stay focused on a princess when the queen has already captured his heart.”

A fiery blush heated her cheeks. “Ah ain’t a queen...”

“Remember, you’re Queen of the Thieves, ma chère.” He tilted her head back with the gentle pressure of a finger under her chin. “More importantly you’re the queen of my heart.”

Rogue giggled. She rolled to her toes and kissed him quickly on the lips. Holding his hand, she pulled him towards the window. “C’mon, mon roi, we got two minutes and the glass is bullet proof.”

Placing his hand against the window, Gambit infused the glass with energy. It took on a lurid fuchsia glow before disappearing in an explosion which rattled the entire building down to its foundation. Rogue picked up her husband—one arm under his legs, the other around his back—and took flight. The building shook again as she flew off as fast as she dared.

“Let’s go home,” he had to shout to be heard over the rush of wind.

“What about the data? Shouldn’t we deliver the drive to Scott?” Held as close to her as he was, he felt her words as much to heard them.

“Non, ol’ one eyes can wait. If he has it his way, he’ll keep us busy all night with meetings and paperwork, and probably a lecture or two—all my fault of course. When really all I need is to be in closeproximity to my wife for the rest of the evening. Possibly the morning as well...” Shifting slightly in her embrace, he tightened his hold on her and leaned closer to her ear so he wouldn't need to shout. “I need to show my wife just how much I love and adore her.”

“That sounds like a plan Ah can agree to.”

#rogue #gambit #anna marie lebeau #remy lebeau #romy #fanfic #prompt fill #genial-jinjur #otp: home and harbor #otp: mon coeur

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the-truest-sentence-i-know · 3 years

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tell yourself you can always stop

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Obidala (Obi-Wan x Padmé); Anidala (Anakin x Padmé)

Rating: T

Summary: what started in beautiful rooms / ends with meetings in parking lots || In which Padmé can't pull herself away from a dirty habit, Obi-Wan doesn't want her to, and Anakin is blissfully unaware. Angst.

Words: 3.2k

ao3 || wattpad || ff.net || quotev

Padmé rushes through her office to the elevator. Anakin is back only for a short time and she’s already late for dinner on his second day back. As the elevator door slides closed, she checks her reflection in the glass. She straightens her bodice, pulls her sleeves into place, and pats down her hair. When the door slides open again on the ground floor, she steps out onto the landing looking as put-together as ever.

Her stomach curls with more than just excitement at her husband’s return as the ship speeds to their – technically, her – home.

Anakin is in the kitchen when she steps inside. Even though they have droids to do everything, he still likes to cook for them when he’s home. Padmé opens the door softly and watches him for a moment – he sits on the counter beside the stove, pot lid in one hand and spoon in the other.

“Smells good,” she says quietly.

She knows he’s probably sensed her presence, but he certainly doesn’t show it, the way he turns around with a grin. He hops off the counter and gracefully picks her up in a twirling hug.

Padmé laughs, holding him tighter than she needs to. He would never let her get hurt.

If only it were the same the other way around.

She ignores the thought and continues to hold him tight when he puts her down. He buries his face in her neck and the feeling reminds her of the lips that touched that very spot not half an hour ago. And a whole lot of other spots.

As if trying to prove that his are the only lips on her mind, she presses her lips to his. His hands hold her face in a way that is both delicate and desperate. And she tries to sink into that feeling.

“Sorry I’m late,” she breathes when they break apart.

“Busy day at work” He turns back to the stew.

You could say that. “Yeah.” She laughs lightly. “Always.”

“Maybe,” he says, turning back to her. One hand on either side of her on the counter island, he steps in close. “You could tell them you’re not feeling well tomorrow. Stay home.”

Padmé smiles up at him, keeping her breathing even. It only feelslike she’s trapped right now. “You know I can’t do that.”

He leans in until they are only a breath apart. “And technically, I can’t kiss you.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “But we all break the rules sometimes.”

The next day, after lunch, when Padmé tells the staff she isn’t feeling well and is going home, it’s not Anakin to whom she whispers, Not here, when he grabs her waist in the elevator. It is not Anakin who she leads to an empty office on a mostly-unused floor. And it is certainly not Anakin who pushes her up against the closed door, mouthing at her collarbone while she tugs at the belt of his robes.

Being with Obi-Wan in secret is very different from being with Anakin in secret. With Anakin, it is exhilarating in a giggly sort of way. It’s like she is getting the experiences of the normal teenagehood that she missed, a time she spent in government meetings.

With Obi-Wan it’s different. Maybe because he’s older. Maybe because he touches her with more assuredness than he should have in their situation.

But mostly because the forbiddenness of their encounters runs much deeper than the Jedi rules. It’s not just rebellion; it’s betrayal of the one they loved most.

So they don’t speak much.

Sated and breathless, they sit beside each other on the floor, leaning against a desk. Now that the initial rush has passed, they don’t touch.

“Anakin wants me to come over for dinner tomorrow,” says Obi-Wan, breaking the two most important rules at once.

“Oh,” is all Padmé can manage.

“I’ve tried to refuse the invitation but –”

“He won’t take no for an answer,” she finishes. Even now his stubbornness nearly makes her smile.

Obi-Wan nods.

Padmé sighs. “It’ll be fine.” She doesn’t want to look at Obi-Wan but does anyway. If only to make it seem like she believes it.

And oh, does she hate the way he is looking at her. The way he never has – the way she appreciated he never did. That she’s too young and naïve to understand what they’re doing here, but he does and blames himself for putting her in this position. As though this wasn’t her decision as well.

“It will be,” she insists, trying not to get angry with him. “The three of us are together all the time.” She begins to button up her top.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan says, decisively nonchalant. He stands up and begins to rescue his robes from their tangled pile on the floor.

“Stop that,” Padmé says.

He stops his disentangling and looks at her. “Stop what?”

“Indulging me.” She stands up. “Treating me like a child.”

“Well, if this is how I treat children, that would –” He stops as her gaze grows murderous. “What do you want me to say, Padmé?”

“What you think!” she bursts out, stepping towards him, letting her still unbuttoned skirt pool around her feet. “Instead of looking at me like I’m some poor naïve victim.”

“You want to know what I think?”

“Yes!”

“I think we’re both terrible people, hurting the person we care most about besides each other,” he says, and Padmé’s heart starts to sink. “I’m afraid that if Anakin finds out, he’ll hate us both, but I’m even more afraid that he would give us his blessing because he wants us both to be happy.” He pauses as though Padmé needs that for the words to sink in properly. “Something we couldn’t even afford him ourselves.”

They are standing far too close to each other to be speaking but Padmé cannot tear herself away. Because while she’s stopped trying to quantify her feelings for him – because that would force her to compare it to what she feels for Anakin – it looks like he has taken that leap.

Because he does not hope that she would leave Anakin to be with him. He assumes she would.

And he thinks she stays with Anakin… why? Out of a sense of loyalty? Not wanting to hurt him? Because of a childhood crush?

She’s not sure if she should pity him or be angry with him.

She stays with Anakin because she loves him.

Though clearly not enough.

Padmé steps back from Obi-Wan, back into her skirt, which she pulls up her legs and fastens at her waist. She grabs her heavy cloak from a chair and when she turns back, he is still looking at her.

“What should I tell Anakin?” he asks finally as she steps into her shoes.

“Whatever you want.” The words come out harsher than she means. “I mean, it’s up to you whether you want to come over for dinner.” She fastens the cloak at her throat and does not look back at him as she leaves the room.

“I’ve asked Obi-Wan to come over for dinner tomorrow night,” Anakin says that evening as they sit in the living room.

Padmé looks up from her book and smiles. “Oh, that’s a great idea.” A prepared answer.

“I feel kinda bad for him, in his quarters all alone,” he says. “Sometimes I think he should just move in with us.”

A light laugh to hide the flash of panic in her eyes. “I doubt he’d ever agree to that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He smiles. “But if anyone could convince him…”

She laughs again as she tries not to imagine laying next to Anakin in bed with Obi-Wan just down the hall.

Padmé has no idea how Obi-Wan does it, spending every day with Anakin without going mad. When Anakin is gone, she can pretend everything is fine.

But now, he is very much here, happily cooking what smells like her and Obi-Wan’s favourite foods, and everything is very much not fine. He bustles around the kitchen while Padmé, curled up in a chair in the living room, pretends to read. He’ll be here soon, and then they’ll have to spend several hours acting normally without the distraction of other people.

The three have attended functions together, especially since Palpatine’s interest in Anakin. But at those dinners and galas, there are always other people to talk to, who act as a buffer – between her and Anakin with their secret marriage, between her and Obi-Wan with their affair, between all three of them with this extremely messed up situation. One they made happen.

It isn’t like it was intentional, at least not in the beginning. An accidental touch here, a too-long glance there and all it took was one moment of weakness.

Her niece Ryoo was sick and Sola was worried out of her mind. Padmé wanted to go and visit but was swamped at work with a wave of new legislation. She didn’t want to burden Anakin because he had an even more difficult job on top of the fact that he was still mourning his mother.

Which is how Obi-Wan found her crying in her office one evening, long after everyone else had gone home.

He rushed to her side. “Padmé! What’s wrong?”

“Obi-Wan, no, it’s –” she tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks, smearing makeup. “I’m alright.”

He knelt beside her chair and put a hand on her arm. “Well, clearly you’re not alright.”

She sniffled a little and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“What is it?” His tone was gentle and warm.

“Ryoo is sick,” she said finally, voice scratchy. “My parents say she’ll be fine, it’s just a childhood illness, but Sola is out of her mind with worry. And I –” She hiccupped. “I’ve been away from her so much because of my work, I’ve missed so much of her life. I just wish I could be there for her with things like this.”

He didn’t say anything, just let her ramble on.

“And it’s not just about Ryoo being sick. I was two weeks late for her birth, and I guess I just thought that going there now would at least start to make up for it.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t blame you for any of that. Your family is proud of what you do,” Obi-Wan said. He took her hand, thumb gently stroking it. “There are sacrifices you had to make – sacrifices everyone has to make, depending on what they decide to do with their lives – and your family understands that I’m sure.”

She nodded, finally looking at him. His light eyes were full of empathy and understanding, and something else she couldn’t quite name in that moment. She pulled her hand gently out of Obi-Wan’s so she could wipe her face again. When she saw the traces of makeup on her fingers, she laughed a little. “I must look like a disaster!”

Obi-Wan just smiled gently. “Not at all.” There it was again, that something that softened his tone, that sent a strange shudder down through Padmé’s chest and stomach.

He rose and held out his hand to her. “You look as lovely as ever,” he said as she took it and stood.

She did not let go of his hand, because it made her feel so steady and sure. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. She always put on such a strong face, that he was now on the very short list of people who had seen her cry since the beginning of her term as queen so long ago. She just squeezed his hand tightly and said, “Thank you.”

“Anytime you need someone to confide in,” he said. “You can come to me.”

She pulled him into a hug, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. His arms were firm and strong around her.

It was nice.

It was more than nice, much more than she cared to admit.

Neither pulled out of the hug all the way, lingering inches apart. With hitching breaths and searching eyes they each waited for the other to make a move – either closing the distance or pulling away. She still isn’t sure who leaned in first, just that before she knew it, his mouth was on hers.

Of course they pulled away quickly, because Anakin, stumbling away from each other, because Anakin, shocked stares turning to guilty fixations with the carpet, because oh my god, Anakin.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said. Maybe he had leaned in first.

Or maybe she had. “No, I shouldn’t have –” She pressed a hand to her mouth and looked back at Obi-Wan as the weight of it all bore down on her. “What have we done?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “If we don’t talk about it, we can…”

“Pretend it didn’t happen?” She was doubtful but the way Obi-Wan nodded, she wanted to believe it.

And, true to their word, they didn’t talk about it. In fact, they very rarely spoke at all when they were together, in empty offices and Coruscanti hotel rooms under fake names.

A knock on the door makes Padmé jump.

“Can you get it, babe?” Anakin calls.

“Of course.” Padmé closes her book, rises and walks to the door, all at a normal speed.

Obi-Wan, dressed down from his full robes, holds a bottle and smiles congenially. “Padmé!” he says.

“Obi-Wan!” she matches his tone. “Come in, come in!”

They are the epitome of hostess and guest. Obi-Wan offers her the wine and she tells him he shouldn’t have. He says it was no trouble and she accepts it with a laugh.

Then she offers to take over stirring for Anakin so he and Obi-Wan can sit down, but he won’t hear it.

“You know what happens when you come near a stove, Padmé.” He shoos them into the living room. “It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

They sit on the long couch, a person-sized space between them. Obi-Wan asks what’s been keeping her busy at work lately and they manage to fill the long minutes discussing the lunar proxy wars in the Outer Rim.

When Anakin calls them to the table, he stands behind Padmé’s chair, hand on her shoulder, as he describes the meal. “Geng Zhi with Tanlan Sauce for Obi-Wan and Krucurant Stuffed Bread for you, my dear.”

Padmé smiles with surprise. “Krucurant?” She looks up at him.

“I may or may not have been secretly in contact with your mother to learn how to make that.” And he kisses her, briefly, sweetly, because he’s happy. He’s happy that he’s made her happy. And because they don’t have to hide with Obi-Wan.

“The first few attempts didn’t smell this good,” Obi-Wan says with a smile. “Believe me.” They look at each other for a moment and an image of Obi-Wan watching Anakin work hard to learn to cook one of her favourite childhood dishes flashes across her mind. It makes her want to break into pieces and crumble to the floor.

“Well, dig in guys!” Anakin sits down and begins to dish out the food.

Padmé lets them carry the conversation a time, telling stories of their various escapades. She gasps and laughs at all the right spots. And she can tell when Anakin alters stories slightly, making them sound less dangerous than what really happened, always making sure she’s not too worried about him.

“So, of course, we checked in with the locals before we went out to the volcanic region,” Anakin says. “To make sure we didn’t go anywhere with active volcanoes.”

Padmé smiles and reaches out to squeeze his hand. “I’m sure you did.” It’s not sarcastic, of course, because she does not begrudge him this consideration. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Obi-Wan watching them, and then looking down at his plate. She tries to ignore him because if he wasn’t here, this would almost be a perfect moment.

“Anakin is always very careful,” says Obi-Wan, with a slight uncharacteristic edge to his voice. “So that he can make it back in one piece to you.”

Padmé’s head snaps over to look at him, but he merely smiles at them. Like a friend who is happy about their wedded bliss. She wants to scream.

Anakin squeezes her hand in turn, looking at the dark glove covering his robot hand. “Well, maybe not as careful as I should be.”

“As long as you come back, I’m happy,” she says, with a smile that she tries to soften, despite the way she can feel Obi-Wan’s eyes bore into her.

Sometimes she wonders how Anakin cannot see what is happening right in front of him. Late at night, she sometimes looks at him, his sleeping form beside her, and thinks that maybe he does know. And if he does, she is afraid that he doesn’t say anything about it because he is afraid to lose them. She wants to tell him that he could never lose her. That this thing with Obi-Wan doesn’t mean anything and she could end it at any time.

Except that would be a lie, because if she does love Anakin and could end things with Obi-Wan easily, why hasn’t she yet?

Anakin takes her hand and kisses it lightly and she feels herself blush a little, as though this small act of intimacy suddenly embarrasses her. The way he looks up at her, eyes so soft and full of love, cuts her to the core. Because why the hell is she risking losing this? Why would she ever do something she knows would push him away, make him hate her?

“As much as I cannot formally approve,” Obi-Wan says. “I will unofficially note that Anakin is happier since he was reunited with you.” He looks at her. “I am glad for you both.”

It’s an apology, she thinks. For how much, she isn’t sure.

Anakin grins at him and then back at her. “I’m happy for us too.”

And she is resolved on her course of action. She had always known this thing with Obi-Wan would end, whether by Anakin finding out and them falling apart out of guilt, or like this. She will tell him, the next time they rendezvous. He will understand. Of course he will.

But then, as Obi-Wan is leaving, he hugs her goodbye, and his lips take a tug of her earlobe, just out of Anakin’s sight. She inhales sharply and nearly shivers under Obi-Wan’s satisfied look when he steps away.

That night, she curls up beside Anakin in bed, only half-listening what he is saying.

“We should invite him over more often, at least once whenever we’re back here,” he says. “Maybe if he’s over often enough, we can convince him to move in.”

The words wash over her as she stares into the middle distance. Because she knows that tomorrow, she will tell him that she has an evening meeting. She will change into something tight and so unlike her normal style that no one would ever recognize her. She will go to a bar with dim lighting and questionably clean washrooms where her husband’s best friend will touch her in all the ways she shouldn’t let him.

And then she will come back home and lay beside him like she is doing now, as though everything is as it should be.

And no matter how guilty she feels, she will not tell him.

#star wars #star wars fic #sw fanfic #sw fic #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #obidala #anidala #my writing #wattpad #wattpadlife #amwriting #ao3 #ff.net #writing

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rahabs · 2 years

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Fic Writer Tag Game! I was tagged by @musewrangler a month ago, but I was in the middle of papers/exams and this languished in my drafts for awhile. But I am returning to it gladly!

first fic: my very first fic was... back in 2008? It was a terrible Yu-Gi-Oh! OC fic (OC, not self-insert, because even when I tried I could never actually manage a self-insert and they always became their own characters). It’s still up on FF.net (under my very first FF.net penname), but I am not linking it.

softest fic: recently one of my softest fics is my joplittle fic, This Colourless Light. It’s just tenderness on the ice before the ships sink. Let them be happy together, I say, and I would like for Crozier to stop sending Edward into the cold.

fic I’m most proud of: my 32k TBB fic, Scrimshaw. No one really read it (it is tied for lowest amount of kudos/etc right now with a 500-word ficlet I wrote in about ten minutes, and only very recently stopped being my lowest in terms of hits/et al), but it’s the one I’m most proud of. A lot of research went into it, and I was so happy with how all the themes came out. Plus, as a First Nations/Cree woman, it really meant a lot to me to be able to share some of my culture and history through literature like that, since the Cree were very tied in with the Fur Trade, and our culture shifted and changed a lot over the course of our involvement. On the whole I’m very proud of it, and during the course of my research, I learned a lot, which is also something to be proud of.

fic that shows my progress: I think all my fics show my progress. Sometimes the progress isn’t good, but it’s still progress nonetheless. The 200-some fics I’ve written from 2008 until now all show my progress in one way or another.

favourite WIP: I’m currently working on a few prompts that I’m enjoying! Otherwise my favourite one is the extensive soulmate joplittle canonverse AU I have planned out.

Tagging @allegoriesinmediasres, @mihrsuri, @honeysides, and whoever else wishes to do this!

#tag games #text #misc

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p-artsypants · 3 years

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The Ghost of Smokey Joe (4)

You’ve Got Me VooDoo’d

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

“Have either of you talked to Adrien lately?”

Nino scoffed from his place on the couch. “You mean Mr. Roboto? Yeah, he’s been a blast. What did you do, Marinette?”

“Me?! I didn’t do anything!”

“Well he wasn’t this weird until your failed date night.”

“I know that! And I also know that I did nothing wrong!” She scolded.

“Mari’s right,” said Alya. “Sunshine’s transformation is probably a side effect of his dear old dad.”

“What did Gabriel do?” Asked Marinette.

“Don’t you remember? He’s a great designer, and apparently a cool boss, but he’s a super shitty dad.”

“Yeah. But ever since Adrien turned 18, he’s mellowed out. Somewhat.”

“So? He probably cranked it back up. When was the last time you saw Adrien outside of the mansion?”

Marinette blinked. “God, like two weeks ago, before ‘my failed date night’.”

“Exactly. If you ask me, Sunshine is depressed. Or forbidden from showing emotion.”

Marinette clutched at her chest, the very notion sending a throb to her heart.

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. I’ll sneak up on him, so Nathalie doesn’t know. Maybe without her talking to him beforehand, he’ll feel more relaxed.”

“That’s a good plan! And if he has a camera in his room?”

“Um…I’ll write a note! Not an email, in case his dad is monitoring it, but an actual, physical note.” It was as good enough of a plan as it could be, though she had neglected to mention to them the tiny detail of Adrien’s document.

‘Your name is Adrien Agreste’ it said.

Why would he be reading such a thing? Did he have amnesia and Gabriel was trying to keep it quiet? Extremely early onset Alzheimer’s? That’s the only thing that made sense.

Still, Marinette opted to not mention this. It was her clue to the mystery. Maybe later.

Just like some magic potion

You fill me with emotion

You control my very soul

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

“You could at least respond with ‘k’.”

The reply was immediate. “K.”

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?”

“K.”

“Did I do something?”

“K”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“K”

“You’re really pissing me off, Agreste.”

“K”

Marinette put her phone down for her own health. After a morning in the office, and not getting a response from Adrien, she was beyond frustrated.

If he had a problem with her, fine, but they had work to do! He still had a job at the company, outside of being a model, and some of her work relied on him.

It was coming in, slowly, poorly, and mostly wrong. Besides modeling, he was an assistant in sizing, making sure that their clothes were made to be close to the market standard, and flattering for as many possible body types. They did do custom orders, of course, but for the average consumer, it was important that they ordered what they wanted, and received what they expected.

But Adrien’s measurements were wildly wrong. Women’s extra large shirts didn’t gain inches in the bust, waist, and arms respectively, but the whole outfit scaled evenly.

Meaning that if an average small was 16 inches long, instead of gaining one or two inches, it reached down to the knees. Shoulder seams fell halfway down the bicep, and sleeves continued a few inches over their hands.

The models in testing looked like children wearing their parents' clothes.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I have to ask you about this collection and the…interesting sizing you’ve decided to take.” One of the sales reps asked, right outside her office.

“It’s wrong,” Marinette clarified. “It should have been caught before prototypes were made, but there’s been a hiccup in the production.” She stood, and put on her purse. There was no way to solve this problem without talking to Adrien. And goddamnit, she was going to make him talk!

“See to it that it’s corrected immediately. With Gabriel’s nearly complete absence, this collection is way behind. Aubrey Bourgeois already has her fall collection out!”

“Yes, I know. I’m heading over to the manor now to get some concrete answers. Hopefully by tomorrow, we’ll get our sizing corrected.”

“I hope you do.”

Marinette hurried down the hall, coworkers giving her concerned glances.

It was pretty obvious, even to those who weren’t immediately in the office:

The company was a sinking ship, and Marinette was the only one who had a bucket.

You knew the goddess Venus

Would start this love between us

You inspired me with desire

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

Marinette let herself into the manor, though it wasn’t her day to work there. Thankfully, it seemed like Nathalie was too busy to notice her arrival.

Up at Adrien’s bedroom door, she was about to knock. Then she noticed his door was cracked open.

Surely spying on him slightly wouldn’t be wrong?

She pushed the door open a little more for her to peek through.

On the other side of the room, staring out the window, stood Adrien. And that’s all he did. He just stood looking out the window. The lights in the room were off, backlighting his silhouette. She watched him for a moment, waiting. Nothing.

Then she knocked. “Adrien? Are you decent?”

“Yes, I am.” He spoke formally.

She opened the door fully, and he turned to look at her with the most plastic smile she had ever seen.

He didn’t have his dimples.

“Hello Marinette, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were working here today.”

“Nice to see you too. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you properly the last few days, you’ve been so busy.”

“I have been, I apologize.”

“It’s not your fault. I know how your father is.” She took a seat on the couch, and pulled out her salad from her bag. “Sorry, I’d wait to eat with you, but I’m so hungry.”

“You may eat. I understand.” Though he just stared at her, still smiling, and still standing.

“Are you going to sit?”

“I can.” He sat next to her, leaving a cushion of space in-between. Normally, he would practically be in her lap.

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. We’re alone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She frowned slightly. “You don’t need to apologize. Just like...relax.”

Adrien looked at her, before exhaling loudly and sinking into the couch more. “Is this relaxed enough?”

She shrugged.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Doing?”

“Yeah, you’ve been acting super weird lately.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Weird? How so?”

“I don’t know, stiff? Formal? Just kind of...stand off-ish. And forgetful. There've been some pretty obvious mistakes in sizing for this collection, and you approved them. You haven’t been in the office the last few days, so I was worried.”

He considered this. “I’m sorry if my absence caused you any inconveniences. I wasn’t aware I needed to be at the office.”

She blinked a few times, incredulously. This was absolutely bizarre. “You don’t need to be there, you just usually hang around after shoots or fittings and keep me company.”

“Oh, because we are friends, right? My good friend Marinette.”

“Yes!” She slammed her Tupperware down. “This is what I’m talking about! It’s like you don’t know who I am!”

He frowned, the expression running lines in his face. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m having a hard time right now, and I’m kind of exhausted. I’m…kind of confused.”

She took a calming breath. “Okay. I get it. You’re stressed. Let’s talk this out though, okay?”

He twisted up his mouth in thought. “Okay, what would you like to talk about?”

“What’s got you stressed? Is your dad breathing down your neck? Are deadlines too much to handle with modeling too? Do you need a vacation?”

He stared at her, blankly. “I’m not sure. I would have to think about it.”

“Well, you know you can talk to me about anything. I care a lot about you, Adrien.”

“Oh…that’s nice.” He smiled and patted her hand.

It sounded incredibly patronizing. And it hurt.

“What is up with you? You’ve been acting so strange! You’re not the boy I know!”

You knew you had the power

And even picked the hour

When the full moon was up above

I was hypnotized when I looked into your eyes

My heart was filled with love

The unbelievable plastic smile shifted then, relaxing ever so slowly, until it was gone, and it almost seemed like it was never there.

“You should go.” Adrien said, hollowly.

“What?”

“You should leave now. I don’t think you should be here. Does Nathalie know you are here?”

Marinette swallowed. “No, she doesn’t. I mean—I didn’t think you’d mind. You usually like it when I come to hang out…” she looked to the floor, “at least you used to.”

“Please give me thorough warning the next time you need to speak with me.”

She snapped the lid back on her lunch, the second time she had done so. She only had a few bites, just like last time.

And food just didn’t taste as good without him around.

“Fine. You know what? I won’t bother you again. Next time, I’ll send an email, like I do with all my other co-workers.” She slid her lunch into her bag, and stood. “The sizing for this collection needs some serious work, and I’ve been the one to have to fix it, on top of all my other responsibilities. Please do better next time, Mr. Agreste.” She shouldered her bag, and walked out.

Once the door slammed behind her, she let the tears gather in her eyes, but didn’t let them fall.

So it was over then. Her friendship with Adrien, her best friend, was over. And she wasn’t getting an explanation.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, sadly. “It can’t be your fault. You didn’t do anything.”

“I know. And that’s the worst part. Because that means I can’t fix it.”

She left the Agreste mansion that day, not knowing the next time she walked through those doors, life would be completely different.

Just like the siren Circe

You've got me at your mercy

Always to be brave and bold

Mama, You've Got Me Voodoo'd

It was late. Too late for anyone to be calling, and yet, here her phone was ringing. Marinette fumbled for it. Grabbing it and blinding herself with the screen.

It was 3am, and Adrien was calling her.

She loved a late night confession as much as the next girl, but she had a presentation in the morning. What was he thinking?

She hoped it was an apology. Maybe he was finally going to break down and tell her everything that was going wrong.

Or maybe he was going to confess he didn’t actually know how clothing measurements worked and he’d been guessing the whole time.

“Hello?” She grumbled.

“Marinette.” His voice was so stern, so cold, it gave her goosebumps. “Did I wake you?” He asked, softer.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, but it’s important.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed. “You were right. I’m not the boy you knew.”

More awake now, she sat up in bed. This had obviously been driving him wild for a while. “We all change, Adrien. It’s okay. If you’re going through something, I’m here for you. Just be honest with me.”

“That’s not—“ he sighed, a growl at the end. “Look, just…I don’t have much time. I don’t know what he—what I was going to tell you that night, but it probably wasn’t good.”

Another voice was on his end of the line. “What are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!”

“Shit. Just look in the basement!”

“What?!”

“How dare you!”

“Let go of me!”

And the line went dead.

What. The. Hell.

She called him back, now completely wide awake.

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…”

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

#ml #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #the ghost of Smokey Joe

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missscarletta7 · 3 years

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The Broken Crown- Chapter 1

Hello! So this is my first Peaky Blinders Fanfiction. I own nothing, except for the few OCs I created.

This story is also on Wattpad and FF.net under the same title if you want to read it there as well--- however be warned it is not as edited as this post and I changed the name of one of the characters because I thought it was a better fit... lol!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

Enjoy!

OoOoOo

"He's a ghost, he's a god, He's a man, He's a guru,

You're one microscopic cog, In his catastrophic plan

Designed and directed by his red right hand"

~Red Right Hand~

1919

She had that dream again, the one where she had to decide which door she would open. Both doors were identical in every way. Yet, she just stands in the empty room lit as if by candles; frozen in place; The weight of the decision ultimately waking her out of-

No, that wouldn't do, a dark-haired girl thought as she scratched out the words she had just written down. In a small bedroom on the second floor of number Seventeen Watery Lane, sixteen-year-old Margaret Shelby sat on her bed, or rather the bed she shared with her older sister. Dressed in the long white nightgown that had once belonged to her mother and with a pen in hand, she scribbled down more words in her brown leather-bound journal resting on her lap. The journal was gifted to her by her Aunt Polly on her most previous birthday. Upon receiving it she couldn't wait to fill its pages. She liked writing, ever since she learned how to form her words into a cohesive sentence on paper. It had been an outlet, a distraction from the "shit-hole" that was Small Heath, Birmingham.

As a child, she had the fondest memories of taking the drawings her eldest brother Arthur would sketch and would accompany his rendering with an original story. She took pride in how much he would always be so impressed and relished when he called her “his little genius". As the years passed, she believed if she could write and publish a story that was good enough, then maybe one day she could provide for her family. Give them a way out of their current situation. Not that she knew much of how dire their situation really was. To their credit, her family tried their best to shield her, as well as her youngest brother Finn, from feeling the effects of living a life in the slums. She was lucky in that way, most of the girls her age had dropped out of school and had a child of their own already.

Her thoughts of prose were soon interrupted by familiar sounds causing the pit of her stomach to sink. Even after three months of him being back, she doubted she would ever get used to it. Opposite from her bed, through the thin wall with floral green wallpaper which had been peeling off for years, muffled cries could be heard. Maggie knew exactly who it was, her brother, Tommy.

She placed her journal onto the thin cotton sheets and traveled into the hallway. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of her older sibling. Taking a deep breath, she decided against knocking and slowly opened the door.

"Tommy?" she whispered into his candlelit room. She could see he was awake. Lying flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Go back to bed, Mags," the second oldest Shelby ordered, but the girl hesitated.

"I thought I heard yelling," she sounded apologetic, before taking a whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?"

"I said back to your bloody bed," his harsh tone surprised her.

This time she did listen, gently she closed her brother's door and made her way back to the empty bedroom she once was in.

OoOoOo

The next day, Margaret exited the small school she attended that was located right on the edge of Small Heath with her best friend Cara Ryan by her side. The girls had played together for as long as their memories had served them. Cara was a stylish and talkative girl who stood at a height of five feet and six inches. Dazzling green eyes sparkled and her straight honey blonde hair fell upon her shoulders. Her family did better than most, the Ryan's own a dress shop that is very popular amongst the younger women, Ada, in fact, is a frequent customer of the establishment. Though the word 'customer' was a loose term, the Ryan's like most shop owners in the area were obliged to give anyone with relations to the Peaky Blinders whatever they wanted. Mrs. Ryan's and the two oldest sisters operated it, and in her spare time, Cara could often be found working in the backroom, sewing buttons and beads to fabrics. The family had a deal, in a year's time Cara would come to work for the shop full time, but until then Cara could continue her education.

"Can't believe Henrietta's having a baby," Maggie said aloud, as shorter and younger students ran past them excitedly.

"I can," Cara replied smugly. "That girl would open her legs up for any sod that gave her a second glance."

"I feel bad for her." She admitted thinking of the fifteen-year-old whose life was now forever changed.

Cara shook her head, "Don't it's her own bloody fault."

After rounding the corner, they both saw Ross Murray. A thin nineteen-year-old with dark hair standing at five feet and eleven inches, resting his back against the dull red brick wall, smoking a cigarette. Cara stopped them in their tracks and waved at the young man. "All right, Ross?!"

Maggie smiled at her friend, she liked Ross, he'd always looked out for her and Cara like they were his own sisters. They had all been in school together up until the moment Ross was kicked out for beating up another boy named Jonah Smith. In all likelihood Jonah may have had it coming. He never had the ability to let go. For example, just last year Maggie would have to constantly have to turn down his advances for over a month. Due to the reputation of her family, attention from boys was a rare occurrence. Which she didn't mind, she never really felt romantic feelings for anyone. However, Jonah took advantage of her brothers absence. One day he even cornered her when she went back to the classroom to grab the jumper she left behind. Thankfully Jonah eventually stopped, and never bothered her again.

Getting kicked out of school didn't seem to bother Ross though. Once he turned eighteen, he enlisted to help with the war effort. He completed basic training within the required three months, and according to the letters he would send her and Cara, he was held in high esteem with all of his commanding officers. Just as he was about to be shipped to France, an armistice was declared. He'd managed to find a job working at the BSA factory rather quickly, but when he came back into town Maggie could tell he had changed. He now had this mentality that made him seem as though he was ready for a battle, yet had no one to fight.

"Cara, Margaret," he acknowledged, stubbing out his cigarette on the bricks he had rested his back upon "Where are you two heading, aye?"

"Just going home," Maggie told him, readjusting the bag on her shoulder.

He came closer to them, "I'll walk with you. Birmingham hasn't been the safest place now that all these blokes with fucked up brains are back."

"Look at that Mags," Cara said happily, and he allowed her to take his arm. "The only gentleman in Small Heath"

Maggie smiled knowingly at the sight. Since Cara was ten years old, she had been smitten with the dark-haired boy. Cara would frequently turn down other offers in hopes that Ross would one day ask her to be his girl. They both hoped that it would happen soon, because in Cara's words "She wasn't getting any younger".

"Don't know what you two keep going to school for," He expressed to them, as they began to walk in the direction the girls needed to travel. "What more is there to learn?"

His comment made Maggie shrug, "It's something to do."

"Yeah, most girls our age who aren't in school are either whores or mothers." She agreed. "Or both."

They continued chatting about their school day as they walked closer into town. The canal that ran nearby as well as the different establishments were coming into view. "Mags, is that your brother?" Ross asked, pointing to a couple of boys.

Maggie turned her head to where her friend was pointing. He was right, her younger brother Finn, was running around in front of the pharmacy with Isaiah Jesus. He must have skipped school again. "Oi!" Maggie called out angrily, and Finn froze in place "What have you been up to all day, hm?"

"Please don't tell Tommy," the ten-year-old begged.

Maggie was about to tell him off, but she was caught off guard by the arrival of a person exiting Compton's, "Ada?"

"Oh, hello." The dark-haired beauty clutched the paper parcel tighter in her hands, clearly caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her younger siblings. "Heading home then?"

Maggie nodded and Ada continued, "I'll join you." The older sister then turned to her brother "Right Finn?" The boy scowled, but nodded all the same.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Maggie told her friends, still trying to process what her sister was up to.

Cara didn't seem to mind her best friends' announcement to depart. Turning to the hazel-eyed boy she asked, "Fancy accompanying me to the confectionery?"

He looked over to the Shelby family first, "Will you three be alright by yourself?"

Ada looked amused at his worry, "We'll be fine. I doubt anyone would mess with us." He accepted her answer with a nod and led Cara to the candy shop.

As the water rushed in the cut, Ada and Maggie walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. Finn wasn't too far in front of them. He was running and jumping around like a madman. That boy always had so much energy, Maggie found herself thinking. No wonder he skipped school, the poor thing probably could not sit still.

"That Murray boy has aged well hasn't he," Ada commented, finally breaking the silence, "Have you two?"

"Ada!" The younger sister cried out in surprise.

"Just asking." She shrugged, "Jesus you're a prude"

"Everyone's a prude compared to you" she retorted, "What were you doing at the pharmacy?"

Ada didn't reply though, instead opting to purse her lips. They were almost home now; Maggie could even see Pol heading to the house, traveling towards them. She was about to wave at her aunt until she was distracted by Finn, who ran around in front of his sisters. Her heart clenched when she noticed a black metal object in his hand.

"Finn, where did you get that gun?" she questioned, yet the youngest Shelby only giggled in response.

"Oi! Quit messing around," Ada scolded, moving forward in an attempt to take the weapon away. "You shouldn't b-"

BANG! The sisters screamed and Aunt Polly, who had witnessed the whole event transpire, rushed over from down the street. Both the girls tried to catch their breath and a shocked Finn looked like he was trying to mentally process what had just happened.

"The hell were you thinking?!" Polly scolded, snatching the gun from his hand. "Where did you get this?!

"He nearly fucking killed me!" Ada screeched pointing to her brother.

"I-I found it on the sideboard of the shop." Finn spit out as they watched his face concave and he soon began weeping in fear. "I-I thought it was empty. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

His tears pulled on Maggie's heartstrings, but Polly wasn't having it. She pushed the sobbing boy towards Maggie ordering, "Take him home, and no more playing with guns. Next time you leave them be."

The young boy nodded and allowed his sister to lead him back home."I didn't know Mags, I swear" he cried out again.

"I know you. You can apologize to Ada once she's feeling more forgiving" she expressed, her arms wrapped around his small shoulders.

OoOoOo

Childhood had molded her into the person she had become. Now she understood that...

Maggie internally groaned and scratched out what she had just written. No, that was definitely not good enough. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle. Her eyes were taken off the page by Ada, who was getting ready for her date with some mystery man.

"What's so funny?" the younger sister grumbled.

"You," Ada smiled as she brushed her hair in front of the small vanity mirror, "And how seriously you take yourself."

Quickly she closed her journal, wanting to change the subject "So, what was the family meeting about?" Maggie asked, not genuinely curious.

"New copper’s coming to town," Ada replied unbothered, more interested in fastening her shoe buckle.

"When I went downstairs, I caught Finn trying to listen through the door. Told him off for eavesdropping," the younger sister snickered .

"Can you believe that little tosser?" Ada said, putting on her paste earring. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He could have killed me today!"

"It was an accident, Ada." She reasoned, opening her journal once more, "Pol already told him and John off, what more can you do?"

"I can still bitch," the older sister huffed, before looking at the book in her sisters' hands. "Are you ever gonna tell me what you're writing about?" Ada asked pointedly, now completely dressed in a white fur coat that rested over her dress.

"Are you ever gonna tell me who you've been going out to see the last few months?" Maggie shot back jokingly.

Ada responded by pantomiming the locking of her lips, which only made the younger sister smile. "Cover for me?"

"As always," The girl assured Ada before she quietly opened and closed the bedroom door.

It was about an hour later when Maggie began to hear the familiar muffled cries. Feeling hopeless as she stared at the green papered wall.

OoOoOo

The following day was mostly uneventful for Margaret. She'd gone to school and heard all about Cara's "date" with Ross. According to Cara, he was a complete "gentleman", much to the blonde's disappointment, though she still clung onto hope.

Now she stood in the kitchen with her Aunt and sister making dinner, continuously kneading some dough until her skinny arms began to burn. Hopefully, this batch of bread would last long enough for her to enjoy. Last time she made bread her siblings had eaten it all, not saving any for her. Upon hearing the door slam, she and her aunt stopped to glance over to the door.

"Holy Shit!" The girl exclaimed, witnessing her eldest brother who was bloody and beaten, being assisted by John into a wooden chair.

"Finn, go find Tommy and tell him what happened," Polly commanded. Like a shot, Finn was running out of the room, but not before Pol hurriedly added, "And tell him we need a shit ton of more alcohol!"

Polly then immediately began to gather gauze and rods of wood to make a splint, "Margaret, start heating up water, then cut this cloth up in stripes." Nodding at the directive, the girl began to do just that.

"The fuck happened?" Ada interrogated, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"Was told some of the men found him like this outside the cinema," John explained.

"Do you know who?" Maggie heard her sister continue as she put the kettle over the flame, but Arthur remained silent.

"I'd like to know as well," An aggravated Polly chimed in.

This time Arthur did speak. “That Belfast copper,” the mustached man spit out, "I'll discuss it more once Tom gets here."

They all fell into silence, the only noise coming from Maggie who pulled out a chair to sit next to her brother, and quietly began cutting the cloth Polly left for her on the table. "Do you think this is enough?" Maggie asked her aunt after she finished.

"Should be plenty, love," Pol told her, taking one of the strips to start mending his hand.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada told the third eldest sibling who was just watching the ladies scrabble around as they tended to Arthur.

"Since when did you give orders?" John asked incredulously.

"I'm a trained nurse." The sister stated.

Though seeing as John wasn't budging Maggie rose from her seat and began to wipe the blood herself.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts my face," Arthur joked as Polly bandaged him up. "You're a nurse like Mags here is a writer."

His comment caused more annoyance than Maggie cared to admit. With her index finger, she pressed onto a forming bruise on his cheek with great pressure, instigating a string of curses to come out of the eldest man's mouth.

"Oops," Maggie said insincerely. This caused Arthur to look to his aunt, wondering if any reprimanding would be given to the girl, but Polly just gave her brother a 'like you weren't asking for it' look.

"I bloody am!" The older Shelby girl whined to John.

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling," John corrected her.

"Not before I learnt how to stop somebody from choking," she shot back.

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur spoke gruffly.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck." She told him as she poured hot water from the kettle into the bowl.

"Let me see him." Tommy's voice was heard as he entered the kitchen. "Well, have this" Tommy passed the bottle of rum and Arthur took a swig. Grabbing a rag, he immediately got to work tending to his brother's face.

"He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. 'National interest', he said. Something about a robbery." Arthur explained. "He said he wants us to help him"

"We don't help coppers," John said immediately, disgusted at the thought.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said -" He paused a moment before continuing, "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote".

Everyone remained silent, and frankly, that was enough of an answer to the eldest. "Why not? We have no truck with Fenians or communist," Arthur said exasperated, before heatedly asking Tommy. "What's wrong with you?"

Tommy continued to stare back at him, before asking his aunt, "What the fuck is wrong with him lately?"

"If I knew I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemist," Polly answered, staring at Tom who stared right back.

OoOoOo

Being alone at night was something Maggie had gotten used to now. The cries next door, however, that was something entirely different. Sighing to herself, she decided to give it another go. Once again, she rose from her bed, and ventured into the hallway. This time though she brought her journal with her. Not long she stood in front of her brother's door, allowing herself to open it.

Again, in the candlelit room, she saw him lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, though she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. "Still awake?" she asked.

"Can't seem to fall asleep," Tommy mumbled calmly. She took his stillness as permission to enter.

"Do you remember when I was a little girl and you used to read me books to make me fall asleep?" she asked, moving closer to the bed, "I used to love those voices you'd do for all the different characters from the picture books."

He nodded and he couldn't help the ghost of a smile while thinking of the memory. Unlike his other siblings, Maggie was the only one who would beg him to read to her. It was something they bonded over.

"If you want," she continued, motioning her hand to hold the journal up. "I can read you my story." Tommy was silent as he looked at the journal for a moment, before Maggie added, "I just thought maybe I could try to help you sleep like you did for me."

"Only if you do voices" he stressed jokingly, then shifted his body to make room for her on the small mattress.

"Remember," she squished next to him leaning her back against his bed frame. "This is a work in progress."

"I won't judge you too harshly" he replied, watching her open the journal that lay on her lap.

"Long ago when she was young, she believed that what she saw in her dreams could be a vision of what was to come. It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of-"

"A what?" He interrupted.

"An amalgamation" she repeated. "Do you not know what an amalgamation means?"

"No, I do. Didn't think you did."

"Shut up. You're supposed to allow my words to lull you to sleep."

"Sorry, please continue"

"It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of all her childhood aspirations, fears, and perhaps a little too much whiskey. With this knowledge she found herself yearning for-"

By this point, Tommy had closed his eyes and was half-listening to the words his sister read from her journal. It wasn't half bad what she wrote. He reckoned by the time she was his age she'd actually make something of herself all with those stories in her head. Perhaps make a career out of it, possibly even get out of Small Heath. It was to be the start of a new decade, a new time, who knows what would happen? When he finally made it back from France, her face was the first face that caught his attention on the station platform. It shocked him. No more was the little girl he would read stories to, but in her place stood a smiling young woman. She had changed so much during the time he was gone.

Come to think of it, they'd all changed. Arthur was head of the family, in charge of the business, and had done a decent job of it. But that was before France, he was different now. He quickly noticed the change in his brother and how he couldn't think straight anymore. Arthur's personality became more explosive, as well as violent. John, well he had become more reckless, especially after a few drinks got into him, and since Martha's passing the drinking had only increased.

As for him, well he was the one who had changed the most. He used to be carefree, joke and laugh, but now he was more solemn and even more protective of his family. Constantly worrying about how Arthur couldn't handle the business anymore, how John couldn't be alone anymore, and him? Well, he couldn't stand to see his family scrape and scrounge in the slums of Small Heath in order to survive any longer. No, not anymore. New copper sniffing about or not. No matter what Polly said, Tommy saw an opportunity with these guns. He wasn't about to turn it down. He just had to play it smart. As Maggie continued her reading, Tommy could feel himself slowly begin to drift out of consciousness and into a dreamless sleep.

#peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #shelbysister #alfie solomons #oc #peakyblinders #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly shelby #adashelby #gangster #1920

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essektheylyss · 3 years

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Fanfic ask game for procrastinating on writing, that's what I'm understanding here, got it.

(tagged by @mllekurtz, thank you! these are super fun questions)

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

55! Jeeeeeez that's a lot.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

295k. (Maybe it's because I come from the writing month world but that's the only stat I genuinely pay attention to lol.)

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

In current times, only Critical Role—back in the day I wrote on ff.net for Heroes and Castle and a few YA books.

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

before it buries me

This was... actually my first shadowgast fic! One-shot set right after 91.

now I will ask you to be brave

Okay, so, this fic. I will not describe it, as I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. I started it right after hiatus with lofty ambitions and promptly realized my hubris, and now it is definitely never going to be finished. I did not get far. My deepest apologies to anyone who has read it and wanted more.

seeing eye to eye

One-shot of the nein running into Essek's family, and Beau understanding him a little better, rich kid with shitty parents to rich kid with shitty parents. A very specific characterization of Deirta in here, mostly filtered through Beau's mentality, which was so fun to write.

not from the absence of violence

OLD GUARD AU MY BELOVED. I desperately want to write in this au more but have not had the time or ideas, but holy shit I love this au so much.

cruel tricks the gods play

Another pre-97 shadowgast one-shot—the peace talks go very wrong and Caleb and Essek end up pulling a Titanic on a plank of wood after the ship sinks. Very fun, very no longer canon-compliant.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

So, okay, I do not, but this is a Thing for me, because I have, inexplicably, deep panic about responding to ao3 comments. I do not know why. I can feel physical panic thinking about it now. I aggressively hate it because I do really want to respond to comments because commenters are so lovely! I think it is a combination of my brain not knowing the culture of ao3 interaction well enough that it seems alarming (thanks, neurodivergence) and college screenwriting workshops in which I was taught not to respond during critique.

In any case, I do not have the same weird panic about tumblr interactions, so I'm always down to chat here.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

You know, for all of the angst that I write, I don't really write angsty endings. I think my two main Verin-centric fics (laid out one by one and this guilt-ridden heart) end kind of angstily, because that relationship isn't gonna be fixed in a conversation. But in general I think the worst I've got is bittersweet.

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't—I'd have to have a really, really good concept to write a crossover.

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I can remember, though who knows if I got any in high school. I'm a little impervious to flames anyway—again, workshop classes helped with the reminders that critique is what's useful, while hate is just, 'you can't please everyone'.

9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do not!

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I mean, not that I'm aware of lol.

11) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

13) What’s your all time favourite ship?

I mean, currently? Shadowgast. I don't have an all-time.

14) What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

sweet child. "Someday!" she says, shaking her fist at an unforgiving god.

15) What are your writing strengths?

I've suddenly forgotten every comment I've ever gotten. I am pretty good at grounded settings when I put in the effort. I think I am good at matching character voices—far better than inventing new ones.

And in terms of writing process... I managed to decide somewhere along the way that I like my own writing? Which is very hard, but also once you do that, it's a lot easier to just write instead of being hung up on quality, and it's then easier to notice when you're falling out of your own voice or when you actually need to rewrite a scene. I think I forced myself into this practice because I am soooo bad at sitting down and editing, so I have to do it as I write, and I had to get over the "this writing sounds like me therefore it is bad" feeling to manage that. (This has been my "love yourself as a writer" high horse.)

16) What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I overexplain. And on the other side, I lean so heavily into showing emotion via physical sensation that I forget to actually write the emotion.

And on a similar process high horse, I am so bad about feeling constantly like I need to write everything right now. This is primarily a problem because if I get too in my head about it, I end up writing none of it. I have not found a way to combat this, except to put one sentence in front of the other. (This is not helped by my ever-increasing pile of wips and ideas lol.)

17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I patently refuse to do it, because I hate the idea of butchering a language I don't know, and because I tend to try to draw as little attention to the fact that a thing is written as possible, and if a language has to be translated via a glossary or something, it's drawing more attention to that, and even if it's something I'm leaving untranslated, someone who speaks that language will know that I have butchered it. That being said, I don't dislike it when I'm reading!

18) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson! I wrote so much PJO fic in middle school.

19) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

what luminous worlds await, if only for the sheer enormity of that project and my delight that it actually came together. Though I cannot mention that without mentioning Icarus to your certainty, without which I probably would not have even written the former.

Tagging (and please feel free to ignore if you so choose) @the-littlest-goblin @mithrilwren @sky-scribbles!

#hello I am being perceived #dating myself with the use of the word 'flames'#I'm sorry for my strengths/weaknesses responses I hate evaluating my own qualities and love talking about writing process lmao #and now that I have managed to waste half an hour time to go back to writing lol #just! very! passionate! about! writing process!

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brynfelan · 2 years

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I posted 1,373 times in 2021

358 posts created (26%)

1015 posts reblogged (74%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.8 posts.

I added 574 tags in 2021

#brainrot - 290 posts

#the idnek and bryn show - 48 posts

#answered - 44 posts

#ask game - 41 posts

#look it's rae! - 35 posts

#multi-fandom-trashbin - 28 posts

#kuzuhina - 28 posts

#danganronpa - 27 posts

#drabble - 18 posts

#what comes next - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#listen i know i should be writing but i havent slept in 36 hours and i need to stay awake for at least 4 more hours lest i wake up at 3am so

My Top Posts in 2021

February 12th: Aesthetic

it turns out i can’t stop drawing soudam HUGGING. i love them SO MUCH. anyway, happy dangantines! enjoy!

sidenote: i know we’re all gushing over nagito with a ponytail, but PONYTAIL KAZUICHI is doing things for me that i didn’t know it would

39 notes • Posted 2021-02-12 21:20:16 GMT

Whaddup, I forgot about day 2 of dangantines so here’s a cheeky little doodle of my BOYS (it’s meant to be just after Gundham wakes up, but could also be taken as during Despair or something like that). Have a good week I have NO idea what I’m doing tomorrow!

39 notes • Posted 2021-02-08 17:12:31 GMT

i’m very upset that kuzuhina isn’t very popular because all i want is to sink 4 hours of my life into reading a balls long slowburn fic of them but it doesn’t exist on ao3 and i simply refuse to use wattpad. ff.net has provided no results or the highly specific thing that i want. my own fic is painful to read. aaaaaaaaa

42 notes • Posted 2021-02-03 08:20:59 GMT

kazuichi soda wearing gundham’s big coat that’s it that’s the post thank you

53 notes • Posted 2021-04-17 03:40:41 GMT

ok I'm back with more assumptions: You're favourite trop is mutual pining, you love characters who are angry with a soft spot for one (1) person, your sleep schedule is trash (thats a fact, don't deny it, but your writing also has some chaotic 4am vibes (in a good way)), and you HATE miscommunication (sorry)

1. mutual pining is 100% my favourite trope. i LOVE pining AND yearning. 2. right this is a callout you’re RIGHT but you don’t have to come right out and say it like that. 3. yes. i have never written a single thing before midnight, and do not plan on doing so in the future. 4. miscommunication makes me SO FRUSTRATED and i HATE it but also i love it in fics even though it makes me want to slam both pairs of the ship into a wall and tell them to get their shit together

85 notes • Posted 2021-02-18 23:56:08 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#brainrot #ok this is the year in review #for you to all see #because y'know #having idnek n rae being in my top tags of this year Just Makes Sense

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Adversity - 13-A

Fanfic update

I’ve decided to utilize this tumblr space to put in WIPs/partial chapters/unedited stories from my end. Then I’ll post it somewhere in Ao3 or FF.net. Maybe.

In the meantime, here’s an installment of Adversity (the chapters here in tumblr aren’t updated – it would make much more sense if you check it out on Ao3 first before coming back here). In essence this is part of Chapter 13.

Keen to hear what you think about this portion :)

Adversity details

Multi-chapter, work in progress, AU, pre-LoK,

Latest status: up to Chapter 12 uploaded in A03

Blurb: Lin and Tenzin are both at the height of their respective careers – she with the Metalbending Police and he with the Air Nation. Questions about their future begin to arise and things come to a head when Lin responded to an emergency call. Would her job take them from each other forever? Eventual happy ending. Alternatively: The one where Lin and Tenzin had to go through adversity like Lin’s dangerous job, a near-death experience, temporary separation and memory loss, unplanned pregnancy and Tenzin’s responsibilities before they end up with a family.

Tumblr chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Ao3 link | Ff.net link

---

Adversity – 13-A

Tenzin clutches a warm towel and wipes it across her forehead. He did not know why and if it would help but he thought it might make her feel better.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath, no longer laborious or irregular. Nonetheless, he kept vigil and held one of her hands. It reminded him of incidents in the past years where he kept watch over her – that night in the Fire Nation Royal Compound when they first found her alive, those nights after missions that might have gone fatally wrong…

The day had started promising. But as always with the two of them, it never was easy…

Once he had the cabana in his view, he should have known that Izumi would have pulled something like this.

---

Tenzin received a message from one of the staff that the princess requested for lunch to be served at one of the beach cabanas. He did not think much about it; it has happened before and figured that maybe Izumi was being a good host.

There was only one person else in the cabana – Lin, who was looking puzzled and was frowning at something on the table.

His feet hit the sand and the earthbender turned to him. “Oh, it’s you.” She looked at him incredulously.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He deadpanned, seating across her. He did not ask questions, assuming that she was led to the cabana using the same ruse.

"I had no idea that you were the man that Izumi said that I'll be meeting for lunch." Lin flicked a note towards him. “Why is she doing this? I found that upon arriving here.”

He caught the paper that slid on the table.

It was in Izumi’s handwriting – informing Lin to please consider (consider – the word was underlined heavily, the insinuation not lost to the reader) this man that she has invited for her. And that they would be left to their own devices as the princess has taken the entire family off for a scenic tour of the island on Druk, Appa and Oogi.

Trust that Izumi would have connived with the rest of the family to pull something like this off.

Tenzin felt the need to apologize for their meddling family and did just that.

Lin shrugged, seemingly uninterested. “Is this supposed to be a test?”

“A test?” What does she mean?

“For me – or for you?” Lin asked back.

“Like for your memory?” To the airbender, it seemed like they were having a different conversation.

The earthbender looked vaguely uncomfortable now, hand lightly patting her belly. “Um no – I mean, for you – is Izumi…?” She trailed off.

For the life of him, Tenzin could not think of what the continuation was.

“Your partner?” Lin finally asked.

What.

“No!” Tenzin’s voice rose, surprised by the question that he did not even consider that the response might have sounded rude. “Of course not!”

“Don’t you protest too much?” Lin was amused. “It’s fine really – or is it a matter of security?” She was being nonchalant about it though Tenzin could have sworn there was a tiny bit of relief in her voice.

“What. No – it’s not like that.” Tenzin had to disabuse her of this ludicrous idea she had. “They’re all just meddling – they mean well – look, Izumi – she’s not my type -!”

Now you just sounded like a whiny teenager.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “Well, seems like they’re setting us up.”

“Whatever for,” She rolled her eyes then grinned. “Let’s not waste the food then.”

He found himself chuckling at that as Lin proceeded to scoop some food on her plate. “Joke’s on them though.”

Lin’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

“I actually intend to ask you out for dinner today.”

She paused and left her chopstick hanging in the air. “Dinner.”

He wet his dry lips. “Yes.”

“I take it you haven’t told them yet?” Lin examined the other dishes available to them. “What time do we need to get ready or we don’t know yet, depending on how soon they get back?”

Tenzin held the back of his neck as the heat crept up. “I mean, dinner – just us, you and me?”

As much as he did not want to admit, maybe Bumi was right – he did not have game.

Lin’s face was unreadable.

He was able to back-pedal when he heard it.

“Okay.”

---

The rest of their lunch went a smoother.

They talked about the mundane things – he talked about Republic City, she talked about the Fire Nation. She asked about what he does in the council and how the RCPD was when they left. He was more than happy to oblige and took the time to answer her questions in great detail.

Before long, when she declared that she felt too full for dessert, he invited her to walk along the shore. He pointed out a cluster of rock formations at the edge of the island.

Lin looked intrigued and they set forth.

He explained that Lord Zuko had told them when they were children that the rocks were formed when the volcano used to be active. It made for an impressive sight, tall and a bit forbidding.

That did not stop them though, Tenzin shared, as they would keep going back there to play when they were younger.

They stood beside the rocks, sandals soaked by the sea, small waves lapping at their legs.

He was in the middle of a retelling of the time Bumi had dared Su to race him to the top (not knowing that the kid can earthbend really well by then) when rather large wave crashed against the rock formation, spraying and drenching them with salt water.

He was laughing, saying he probably should have warned that that usually happens. His eyes alighted on her and was caught mid-laugh.

Lin stood stiffly, her eyes wild. One hand on her cheek (her scars), another on her chest - breathing erratically gulping air.

“Lin!” He immediately held her by the shoulders; she was shaking. “Lin!”

A panic attack.

Each breath rattled against chest as she started blankly, unseeing. Lin was insensible to her surroundings.

Tenzin scooped her up and ran as it all clicked.

Captain Tomasu did say that they had found Lin in the water.

Damn.

The minutes it took him to the rest house felt like hours. With the family away on whatever excursion Izumi and Iroh planned, he had to rely on the staff to come to their aid. Fortunately, the in-house healer was at hand.

The rest was a blur.

He felt the moment she regained consciousness. Her breathing shifted yet her eyes remained close.

Tenzin continued to run his fingers on her knuckles, whether to comfort her or himself was unclear.

Lin blinked slowly, her breathing sped up. Her hand quickly slapped to her cheek, tracing the scar with shaking fingers.

The airbender could hear her murmuring softly.

“My name is Lin. I’m in Ember Island. I’m okay. I’m safe. We’re -.” Her eyes focused and saw Tenzin at the periphery. “The baby?”

Tenzin leaned forward, grasping both of her hands and placing them on her stomach. “Is okay. You’re both okay – I had you both checked. You just had a little panic attack.”

There was no use alarming her.

“Panic attack…” She whispered to herself. “I used to black out before…”

“I’m sorry,” Tenzin said quietly. “I should have paid more attention to you.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Lin said in an equally soft tone. To his astonishment, she pulled his hand up to her cheek and leaned on it. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

He extended his fingers, gingerly touching her cheek. There were still times in the past weeks when he could not believe that she was here and she was alive. Little touches like these were rare and he savored the moments to remind himself that she was truly there.

“The rice granary,” Lin began, staring at the ceiling, actively avoiding Tenzin’s gaze. “It exploded, you know, the man – the firebender –.”

The airbender waited, this was in the papers and the reports that he was very familiar with.

“He knew what he was doing,” Lin held on his fingers tightly. “He saw me and he set fire – I fell to the water. I felt like drowning – maybe I did.” Tenzin gripped her hand back. “It was really hot and there was a lot of metal scraps. I remember sinking and maybe removing my armor…” Her face scrunched, obviously thinking. “The current was fast, rapidly swept me away – it was so cold. I thought I was going to die.” She resolutely focused on the ceiling when she heard Tenzin’s gasp. “I don’t know how long it was – it was dark, then there was light. My lungs – they burned so bad. Next thing I knew – I was aboard Captain Tomasu’s ship.”

Tenzin’s own breath caught.

Could it be… her memories have returned?

“Don’t force it.” He rubbed her wrist back and forth, hoping to sooth her.

“It’s still blank.” Her face was troubled and eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I don’t remember what happened before the explosion.”

Feeling her get distressed, Tenzin moved closer to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Lin Beifong, my mother is Toph – we grew up together in Republic City.” She now turned to him. “I live in Republic City now…”

His stomach churned. “What’s the last thing you remember from before?” He asked cautiously, afraid of triggering something.

“I’m deputy chief, I think.” She racked her brains. “There’s this small apartment. I think I live there.”

Tenzin swallowed. This was from a time before they lived together, when they were still exploring their relationship.

“I’m not losing it, am I? That really happened?” Her green eyes wide, seeing reassurance.

He nodded, still silently contemplating what this meant.

“After that – it’s blank.” She released a breath. “Did something significant happen during that missing period?”

“You got promoted to Chief of Police.”

“Maybe that’s it…something to do with work.” Lin guessed absentmindedly, biting her lip.

He added tentatively. “We’ve also decided to move in together.”

The way she looked at him now – it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

“You’re the father.” She stated it so plaintively with a hint of caution.

“That’s the first time you’ve told me that.” Tenzin attempted to downplay the significance of the revelation. “Don’t worry about it – you probably didn’t know you were pregnant back then before –.” He waved a hand around, at a loss for words on how to explain the situation.

“You’re not even questioning it?” Her voice was tight and her posture tense.

“Not at all.”

She finally let tears flow.

---

He embraced her, murmuring reassurances that he will be there for her and the child. He will be involved.

But somehow – there was still that gap in her memory. She was missing something crucial, she can feel it - it was about the Air Nation. The gut feel was of hesitation and wariness. What was it about?

She had talked to Aang the previous days and there were no mentions of issues with the Air Nation.

Maybe it had something to do with crime? With her promotion as Chief of Police?

If only her mother were around… Maybe she could help her piece her memory together.

Lin pulled back from the airbender, who suddenly looked at her with apprehension.

“What happens now – what if I don’t remember?” Now that she had part of her memories back – she hated the feeling of uncertainty.

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Tenzin inched closer to her, gently cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears. “Just know that you’re never alone.”

The sincerity in his eyes was enough for her. She did not even need to employ her seismic sense to know he was telling the truth.

She closed her eyes as he moved. She felt his lips on her forehead.

The airbender sat back down, a soft smile on his face.

She looked at their entwined fingers.

She will take this chance.

This was for her child. All for their child. And it will be enough.

#linzin #linzin fanfic #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip #toccatina adversity #lin beifong #tenzin #legend of korra fanfic

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