#'even in the future the story begins with once upon a time' HAUNTS ME
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A Little Game, A Lot Of Torture.
The one in which G/ojo has been a bit of a (loveable) prick, so his friends decide to hold a little contest to see who can get him back the best. Contest rules? Whoever makes him sneeze the most in one attempt wins, you can’t get his help, you can only use one method. Let the games begin!
(Do I have requests I should be working on instead? Yes. Was this idea haunting my every waking hour until I finally agreed to write it? Also yes. I promise I’ll get back to requests tomorrow <;3)
Takes a minute to get into heavy snz stuff, but hopefully it's still enjoyable! (credits to @snzdreams for the breathtaking headcanon that even talking about sneezing gets G/ojo going, and I hope it’s okay that I borrowed your genius to use in this <3 and doubly hope it's okay that I tagged you in it <33)
Also I want to clarify: while they were all in the same class in highschool, this is set post-graduation, imagining a future where they all still hang out. (AU technically I guess haha~) Just making it clear, everyone in this story is meant to be an adult. Picture early 20’s.
Characters: G/eto, S/hoko, and G/ojo. Plus a bit of S/atosugu
Word Count: 4.1k (whoops-)
(References to swearing in case anyone doesn't like that!)
~~~~~~~
The rules were agreed upon the day before, Geto insisting that they needed to be clear.
Rule #1: You only get one attempt. If you fail, or he manages to avoid/subdue the attempt, it’s over. You don’t get a second try. If you get subpar results, same as before, no second tries.
Amendment added by Shoko: number of sneezes only counts from the first couple minutes. If said attempt results in sneezing for the rest of the day, those are not to be counted.
Rule #2: Gojo is not to be informed of this, or asked for assistance of any kind. You cannot ask him for a list of what makes him most sneezy, you must use your knowledge of him to come up with your own methodology.
And finally, Rule #3: You can only use one method. Said ‘method’ can include multiple inducing tools, so long as they’re considered one ‘attempt’. Ie. Multiple scented candles at once, or a bouquet of flowers are both considered one method. However, flowers and candles at the same time would be considered two.
Amendment added by Geto: Helping him along with words doesn’t count as a method, and is therefore fair play.
With those in place, Geto and Shoko got to work, each with an idea in mind.
In order to not taint results the attempts will be held three days apart to give Gojo’s nose time to get back to baseline before the next attempt begins. Shoko is up first.
Let the games begin!
~~ Shoko’s Attempt ~~
‘I’m at a disadvantage. I know Gojo, he’s my friend, they both are, but I’ll never know him the way Geto does. He’ll always know more of Gojo’s quirks, especially since they’re so obviously in love. They both deny it, but the looks they share when they think no one can see tells a different story. If not dating, the feeling is at least mutual.’
Shoko pauses her musing, letting a smile take over as she waves to the boys, starting her approach with a hand in her bag. ‘Always together, even when I’m not around. I know they care for me, but the bond they share will always be one step deeper.’ Despite this, she has a plan. Earlier she wrote out a list of what she remembers Gojo showing reactions to in the past, eliminating anything less than a full attack.
‘He’s quite sensitive, it doesn’t take much to set him off, but getting an actual fit from him is a touch more rare. Normally he has quite the exaggerated buildups, long and hitchy, which he makes a lot of noise about, but the actual sneezing is minimal. At least, compared to the results I’m looking for. No, I need something more than a simple sensitivity. If it was Geto I’d blow smoke in his face, but that’d only prompt a minor reaction out of Gojo.’
“Hiya Shoko, take a seat! Geto here was just sharing the mochi he bought!”
“I bought it for myself, you just stole half when my back was turned.”
“Come on, we both know if you put something sweet in front of me I’m gonna eat it.”
Shoko seats herself next to Gojo, sharing a glance with Geto when he’s distracted by the sweets once more. A darker tone dips into Gojo’s voice as he lets his sunglasses fall so Geto can see his eyes, a mischievous haze clouding them.
“You knew the risks, now you pay the price.”
“The price being my mochi?”
“Exactly! Now you’re catching on~.”
With that, Gojo grabs another one, laughter bubbling out as Geto attempts, and fails, to smack his hand away. However, before he can pop it in his mouth, he freezes, hand inches from his face. His breath catches, nose twitching. Shoko finds Geto’s eyes darting over to her, and she offers a slight shake of the head. ‘Nope, not my attempt, this is all him.’ Geto starts to speak, eyes flickering back over to Gojo.
“You alri-”
“heHh-! hah’adJSHhh’iew-! hep’gshh’iew-!”
“Blessings.”
“Guhhh- thank you.”
Shoko takes her turn to speak, eager to ascertain any possible advantages. ‘If he’s sick his nose will be extra sensitive, and I may be able to cinch this win. Especially given Geto needing to wait three days, ideally the window of sensitivity will have passed.’
“Feeling okay?”
“Indeed. This is just the price I must pay for being so talented- huEH’djZShh’uu-! I can't be perfect in every aspect, that would just be unfair!”
“Come again?”
Geto rolls his eyes, gesturing to the sky as he turns his gaze back to Shoko once more. Gojo meanwhile wipes a few tears from his cheeks, groaning lightly at the quickly increasing watery nature of his eyes.
“He’s just allergic to the sun.”
“I am not allergic- I’m just a tad sensitive to bright lights. Christ this is annoying.”
“Was the mochi really worth it?”
“Suguru Geto, don’t you talk like that! Mochi is always worth it!”
The eagerness has quickly faded out, Shoko letting an airy sigh press out between her pursed lips. ‘Right, I did know about this. I believe it’s called a photic sneeze response? He’s had it for as long as I’ve known him, though I believe he said it’s gotten worse the more he wears those glasses. Blocking out the light so much of the time only adds to his sensitivity when it inevitably breaks through. However, it causes very few sneezes, he said the main issue is his eyes watering.’
“If you touch the last piece I’m making you buy me a new one.”
“Aw- that’s not faiiiir!”
“Boys, boys, let’s not fight. I have a better solution.”
With that, Shoko swipes the last piece, grinning at the complaints from the guys as she places it against her tongue, savouring the sweet taste. Her mind dips back to her plan as Gojo starts to whine about being hungry again.
‘He’s incredibly sensitive, even the mention of sneezing is enough to get his nose itchy. Describing how much it must tickle is fair game, but on its own, pretty ineffective. He’s annoyingly good at holding back when he wants to be, so if he catches on that sneezing is what I want, he’ll do everything in his power not to. I just need him to think I’m teasing him for his reaction, can’t let him read deeper into my motives.’
“Shoko?”
“Hm?”
Her name pulls her back into the conversation, both Geto and Gojo watching her closely, a lopsided grin spreading across Gojo’s mouth. ‘Oh, I’m going to enjoy wiping that smug look off his pretty-boy face.’ Gojo speaks up again, Geto’s eyes following her movements as she casually lets her hand dip back into her bag.
“I was asking if you’d want to come with us to the mall, DiverCity specifically? I’ve been craving chocolates that they sell at one of the stores for days.”
“Funny you mention it, I was just thinking about that place earlier. I’d love to come, but I have an assignment. Next time though, yeah?”
“Aw fiiiine, but Geto, you’re still coming, right?”
“Sure, why not. I could use a few things.”
Shoko tunes out again, hand tightening around a bottle as she lets a smirk spread across her face. ‘Funny he mentions the mall, seeing as that’s exactly where I got my method from.’ The last time they’d gone together she’d been showing him around a store he’d never been to before. It specializes in calming methods, and given how stressful being a Jujutsu sorcerer can be, she finds herself drawn there often.
An employee next to them had been showing a few people a new pillow spray, and as soon as they’d spritzed it, Gojo had been bent over into his arm with a rapid fit. She’d had to drag him out of the store. ‘Quite embarrassing at the time, especially given how whiny he can get during an attack, but now? Now I’ll get to use that spray to get payback.’
“Hey, Gojo.”
She cuts into their conversation with ease, used to interrupting them. ‘With those two, someone is always talking. If you wait for a pause, you’ll never get a word in.’ Gojo turns to her with a curious look, across the blanket Geto mimics it, a hint of something deeper flashing through his eyes. She gives him a quick nod, smirk quickly spreading across his face as he attempts to cover it.
“You know how I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently? I found a new spray that has been really helping. I thought you might want to have a look at it, I know you sometimes struggle with insomnia too.”
“Oh, that’s kind of you, yeah show me- show me- show me!”
‘Kind isn’t quite the word I’d use, but I appreciate your excitement anyways.’ Pulling it from her bag, she’s unsurprised at the lack of recognition in his eyes. He’s never been one for cataloging irrelevant information, and for some reason he’d decided keeping a list of everything that sets him off was irrelevant.
Taking off the cap, she gives him an open smile, before spraying it right in front of his face. ‘Can’t risk actually hitting him, that would be too suspicious, but I want it to get as close to his nose as possible.’ The result, much to her delight, is instantaneous.
“hhaHhHH-! Wh- whAhht- what kind of sp- spra… sprayisthat… heH’gnDZShh’uuhh-!”
“Something wrong?”
“I think I’m- eH’GNDZSHh’uu-! I think- heHASIhh’oo-! ah’gehhzshh’iew-!”
“Are you okay?”
Geto’s watching carefully, Shoko’s sure he’s keeping count in his head. Still, needing Gojo to believe her facade, she offers sympathy, pulling a travel pack of tissues out of her bag. ‘Tissues that just so happen to be sprayed with the allergen. Still only counts as one method, according to the rules.’
“Y- yeah- hAgzshh’uu-! knDzshh’iee-! Oh, scus- scuseme- heHhh-!”
“Here, take these, you sound like you need them.”
“Th… thhhehHh- thank you- hH’GUHzshh’oo-! aiYISHH’oo-! aHH’DNGZSHh’uu-! Oh god…”
“Blessings, Gojo.”
Finally speaking up, Geto catches Shoko’s eye and mouths ‘nine’. She shoots back a whispered ‘so far’, catching a smile in response. Gojo’s too busy tearing into the pack of tissues to notice any of this, bringing one to his nose as he gets a pause in the sneezing. He manages to blow, breathing a sigh of relief, instantly cut short by an itchy inhale.
“heAHh-! hH’DnZShh’uu-! AYISHH’oo-! KETZSHHH’oo-! What the- henGT-! ainGT’shoo-!”
“Blessings indeed, Gojo. Are you alright?”
“The ti- tihhhckle- heH’kNGDT-! haAHh-! eh’dnZZShh’oo-! Scuse me- the tickle got wo- wo… worse… I’m… I’m gonna… heHh-!”
Shoko smirks as the tears start pooling in Gojo’s eyes, his nose quivering as it starts to flush a brilliant shade of pink. ‘Time to implement phase two: suggestions. Just gotta be careful not to tip my hand. He’s attempting to stifle, which will only help, it only makes the tickle stronger.’
“You must be allergic to the spray, I’m so sorry, I had no idea!”
“heH-! hh’gndJSHH’uu-! AIYShhh’iew-! heH’DJZSHh’uu-!”
“Oh, bless you. Sounds really itchy, are yo-”
“hH’DJEZSHh’aa-! Sh- Shoko- waaitt… ahh’keTShh’oo-!”
“-you feeling it? The burning sensation-”
“eh’GnDJZSH’aahh-! hAHh’inGKt-!”
“-filling your sinuses? Like a feather, gen-"
“nGEHT’choo-! hePt’choo-! eNgEHP’choo-!”
“-gently brushing the inside of your nose?”
“heAIISHH’uhh-! eh’GdJZShh’uu-! I need… I’m gonna… I can’t…!”
Geto gives her a pointed look, lightly tapping his wrist. ‘Time’s almost up, time for the home stretch. Gotta make sure I get one last fit outta him. I know exactly what to say.’ Gojo’s nose is pressed into his wrist, trembling with allergic need as the tears keep flowing down his cheeks, seemingly making the tickle even worse as they brush up against the edges of his nose.
“I’m so sorry, Gojo. If I’d have known you were this allergic I never would have sprayed it so close to your nose! I mean, the droplets must have just floated through the air, gently landing on your skin, right on the tip of your nose-”
“Cru- Cruel Shoko- hEH’EDZSHH’uu-! eh’KTZSHhh’aa-! aiYISHH-keATzhh’oo-!”
With that, Shoko meets Geto’s eyes one last time, mouthing ‘how many?’, quite satisfied by the ‘thirty-two’ she receives in return. Her satisfaction only rises as Gojo ducks into his arm with another tightly stifled burst, Geto raising an eyebrow at the display.
“hH’KNGt’choo-! iNGt’choo-! hah’DNGt’choo-!”
“Blessings, Gojo.”
“Snff- Thank you, Geto. Guhhh… I’m gonna be itc- itchy… hh’GNZshh’iew-! for the rest of the day.”
Shoko pulls the tissues from Gojo’s lap while his focus is aimed towards Geto, replacing them with a second pack from her bag. ‘As fun as it is to watch you suffer, my attempt is over, no need to prolong the exposure. This reaction is gonna last for most of the day anyways.’
“Blow again, it might help dispel some of the allergen.”
“Yeah, good- eh’aISHH’uu-! good idea. Ya know, that may help you sleep, but I’m- heHh-! hEZSHHH’aa-! I’m getting the vague notion it wouldn’t do the same for me.”
Geto laughs, a smile tearing through Gojo’s itchy face at the sound, Shoko soon joining in. ‘Always one step removed, just outside the joke, but that’s okay. At least for now, I’m in on the joke while Gojo isn’t. I can live with that.’
Final Results: Thirty-Two (32) sneezes from Shoko’s Attempt.
Method Use/Application: Linen spray Gojo is allergic to, sprayed in front of face/on tissues presented to him. Sneezy talk was also implemented, increasing success.
~~ Geto’s Attempt ~~
‘Shoko’s try yielded better results then I was counting on. I may know more about Gojo but some facts escape even my grasp. I had no idea he was so allergic to that spray. However, that wasn’t what set her apart, it’s her cunning. She explained to me after that she sprayed it on the tissues. Truly genius, I would’ve never thought of that.’
This time it’s Geto’s turn to approach the duo, eyes closing as he smiles, Gojo giving a shout and Shoko putting out her cigarette. ‘I guess she doesn’t want to be called out for interference. It’s no matter, I don’t plan on letting anything distract me from my attempt. I didn’t have to think long about what to use, just how to best utilize it.’
“Geto! Shoko was just telling me about a new type of chocolate she saw the other day! Can we go buy some? Pleaaaase? Pretty please?”
“You still owe me for the last pack I bought you.”
“Aw, come on, you know you wannaaa~! You don’t wanna deny me of my happiness, do you?”
“You can have happiness without chocolates, Gojo.”
“How could you say such things?”
Gojo lets a pout spread over his face, lightly huffing as he leans his head against Geto’s shoulder. ‘Dramatic as always. Though, I guess that’s the reason we came up with this little challenge in the first place. One I’m sure to win with what I have planned.’ His mind starts to drift back to the first time he got to witness Gojo and lavender in the same room.
They’d been in a meeting together, the higher ups needing something Geto can’t recall now. It’s not of importance, even at the time it was one of the last things on his mind. Front and center was Gojo’s losing battle against the vase of lavender sitting almost mocking him on the table.
Normally, should the situation call for it, Gojo could hold off an allergy attack for hours, or at least upwards of twenty minutes. However, against the lavender he lasted no more than three, needing to leave the room just after seven because he was no longer able to form full words between the sneezing. The higher ups had been quite irritated, but today it would serve Geto well.
“Earth to Geto? Suuuguruuu? You there?”
“Huh?”
“Jeez, what is it with you two lately? Did I miss something, or is it just ‘stare off into the abyss with a smile creeping at your mouth’ season?”
“Sorry, I was just reminiscing.”
“Any particular memory you want to share, Geto?”
Shoko offers, eyes flashing with mischief as Geto sends a dark look in her direction, quickly replaced by a smile as she playfully sticks out her tongue.
“Not at the moment.”
“Oh, I know! Why don’t we play ‘share your favourite memory of Gojo’!”
“Yeah, no.”
“Aw Shoko, you’re no fun.”
Geto chuckles, ruffling Gojo’s hair as he gazes up from behind his sunglasses. ‘Just placing the lavender near him wouldn’t work. He could either leave the area, or the attack might not surpass thirty-two. The reason it had such a severe effect in the meeting was likely do to the pollen having a chance to gather in that tiny room.’
“Gojo, I have a gift for you.”
“A gift? You shouldn’t have!”
“Well if you don’t want i-”
“Hey, woah-woah-woah- of course I want it-!”
Reaching into his bag, Geto starts to set his plan in motion. ‘My best chance is getting some form of lavender where I can get it near his nose, close enough for the pollen to have a chance to float around him, but not obvious enough that he’ll just avoid it. I think this is the perfect solution.’
Making direct eye contact with Shoko, Geto sends her a message clearly. ‘My attempt is about to begin, get ready’. His hands grip around the present, placing it gently on Gojo’s head, fighting a smirk at the joy filling Gojo’s eyes.
“A flower crown!?”
“Yes. You showed me how to make them a while back, and so I made this one myself. I thought you might appreciate it-”
“Suguru… I love it! What kind of flowers are these?”
“Mostly sakura, though I did add a few other plants I found in the area to tie it together.”
‘If I just used lavender he’d simply take it off when he started sneezing. However, given that it’s not a type of flower he’s allergic to, it won’t be his first thought. Because of that, he’ll be too focused on sneezing to worry about removing it, letting the hidden lavender keep sending wafts of pollen down into his face. Plus, I made sure the sakura was quite pollen soaked. He’s not allergic, but with his nose already being set off from the lavender, the sickly sweet smell is sure to prompt a few extra sneezes.’
“It’s bea- hEHh-! Oh, scuse me. It’s beautiful.”
“You alright?”
“Yeah, just thou- ahHh-! Hehh… thought I was… o- oh… I am…. I’m- hH’DjZEShh’oo-!”
“Blessings, Satoru.”
“iHh’kETChh’uu-! S- sorry I… eH’DtjZSh’iew-! hEh’kezzchh-aiyshhh’aa-knGT’choo-!”
“And again.”
A glance over to Shoko tells Geto she’s keeping track, fingers tapping against the railing she’s leaning on with every sneeze. Gojo lets out a faint whine, hand coming up to scrub at his nose as tears start dripping from his eyes.
“hH’GNt’choo-! ehH-! Ohfuck- hH’NGT-EINGT-nNGT-knDT’choo-! aINGT’choo-! hAH’DJZSHHEW-!”
“Christ, Satoru, bless you.”
“knngT-! aIghNT’choo-! hH’YEZSHH’aa-! AIYShh’oo-! neH’GEDT’choo-!”
Geto risks another look at Shoko, barely containing his smirk at the dumbfounded expression she’s wearing as Gojo frantically fans his face. ‘I haven’t even started talking about the tickle yet. He’s more allergic than I remembered. I almost feel bad…’ His thoughts are cut off by Gojo pressing his rapidly twitching nose into Geto’s shoulder, hitching against the fabric of his shirt. ‘And that’s why it’s only almost.’
“henGT’choo-! hH’DEHgnT’choo-!”
“You should stop that, you’re not-”
“heH’KNDTZSHH’uhh-! ihh’GNXXZT’choo-!”
“-gonna be able to catch a breath.”
“You- you’re right… Suguru it- it tihhhhckles… hEaHh-! AIYZSZHH’uu-! kuh’MMZSHH’aa-!”
Gojo’s voice is muffled from the congestion already seeping through the cracks, and Geto feels a pang of guilt tear at his heart. It’s quickly replaced by something calmer as Gojo aims the next fit at Geto’s chest, flower crown shaking lightly as he ducks his head, only releasing more pollen. ‘Sorry Satoru, but this is well deserved. Time for a little power of suggestion.’
“aH’GnZH’euu-! hehHh-! hH’MMZSHHH’oo-!”
“Blessings. Those sound quite itchy-”
“emmpffshh’oo-! hEPT’choo-! ehP’choo-!”
“-don’t they? Something bothering your sensitive-”
“hHMPPT’choo-! AInGT’choo-! S- Suguru- hNGT’choo-! heH’KDZGT’choo-!”
“-nose? I bet it’s tickling something awful, isn’t it?”
Meeting Gojo’s watery eyes, Geto lets himself slip right into stage three of his plan, time quickly running out. ‘Knowing him, he should be sensitive enough by now that just the word sneeze will set him off. Let’s try to get a handful more. I believe I’ll win anyways, but better safe than sorry.’
“eNGXXT’choo-!”
“Don’t you just-”
“hepDT’choo-!”
“-have to…”
“hAhHh-!”
“Sneeze so badly?”
“hAH’ADJZSHH’uu-! keTSCHH’aa-! AIYZSHH’uhh-!”
“Blessings again for those sneezes.”
“I kn- know what…. Ohgod- hEH’EDZSHHEW-! guhhH’DNZSHH’oo-! I know what you’re doing.”
“Doing? I’m simply blessing you as you sneeze.”
“AIYZSHH’oo-! hH’GNkZSHH’uhh-!”
Taking pity on him as Shoko mouths ‘time’s up’, Geto pulls the crown from Gojo’s hair, tossing it to the side as the sneezy man ducks into his arm for another fit. ‘Whoops… maybe I should have removed it a bit sooner…’
“iNGt’choo-! heASHH’oo-! kEtCSHh-aizshh-kezZSHH’uu-!”
“Bless you Satoru…”
“You- hEHnGT’choo-! Sound quite gui- guilty- eh’knSHH’uhh-! Guilty, Suguru. Why ever could- hh’gEZSHH’aa-! Christ… Could that be? Wouldn’t have any-hNGSHH’iew-! Anything to do with my having two allergy attacks in the past four days, would it?”
Geto’s eyes snap to the floor, a warm tint starting to spread across his cheeks, Shoko chuckling as she lightly pats Gojo’s back, letting her eyes close with a slight huff.
“I think he’s caught us, Geto.”
“I believe so.”
“hNNSCHh’iew-! Would someone care to explain to me what’s going on exactly?”
“Of course, but first we should probably get you some allergy medication. There was lavender in the flower crown.”
Gojo’s watery glare meets Geto, his mouth hanging open. ‘Probably less from shock and more for the sake of breathing. I doubt much is flowing through his sinuses right about now.’ Geto can’t help but smile at the sight, pink nose vibrating as Gojo attempts to end the attack by pinching it shut, tears streaming from his gorgeous eyes. ‘If he wasn’t so miserable, I’d want to see this side of him more often, he’s quite adorable like this.’
“I want to be mad bu- knDJZSSH’uu-! But I proooobably deserved this.”
Laughter erupts from the group, Shoko nearly falling over as it bursts from her chest, Geto pulling Gojo closer as they start walking back into the school, explaining the competition to a still sneezing Gojo.
Shoko leads them to her office where she keeps a stash of medications for situations like this. ‘Well, not exactly like this,’ Geto chuckles to himself, ‘I doubt there’s even been a situation quite like this one. Oh, that reminds me-’
“Say, Shoko, I did win, didn’t I? Even not counting-”
“hHNGTshh’aa-!”
“-the bonus ones?”
“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not like I stood a chance in the first place, you two obviously know more about each other.”
“Actually, I didn’t know he was allergic to that spray. That was all you.”
“Huh, really? Interesting. Oh- I guess you want to know the numbers?”
Geto flashes a smile, eyes wrinkling as Gojo whips around with another small fit aimed at the floor. He nods at Shoko, murmuring a blessing against Gojo’s hair as he convulses.
“heh’gnZSHhh’oo-! eh’kshhh’iew-! heHh-! hAH’DTZShhh’uu-!”
“Again, not counting the extras, you rang in at forty-two. Exactly ten more than mine, surprisingly enough.”
“Oh Christ, that wasn’t counting the ones I- hH’gnZZShh’aa-! I’m still doing?”
A blush spreads across Gojo’s face, one of the strongest sorcerers in the Jujutsu world apparently not immune to embarrassment. Shoko offers a laugh in response, rummaging through her desk until she finds a blister pack, handing it over. Geto grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, passing it to Gojo with another blessing, lightly cupping his face for just a second.
“I saw that, ya know.”
This time both men blush, Shoka rolling her eyes playfully, then throwing a box of tissues at Geto. Gojo hastily yanks out a handful, blowing his nose with a deep groan before sniffling into the pile.
“Clean him up, will ya? It’s been a long day, I’m headed home.”
“hH’AieZSHH’uu-!”
“Let’s play again some time, shall we, Shoko?”
“Yes, let’s. Next time I’ll beat you for sure.”
“hAH’ZASHH’oo-! How ‘bout next time it’s a free for all? I’d like a little chance for revenge.”
“This was the revenge, Satoru. Ours.”
“Oh fine, but you two owe me some chocolates! Oh- oh, and mochi!”
Shoko smacks Gojo upside the head as Geto lets a laugh burst from his chest, the other two soon joining in harmony.
The world outside may be a dangerous place for a Jujutsu sorcerer, and the three of them aren’t immune to the stress, but right here, right now, they’re just three friends sharing a laugh.
Final Results: Forty-Two (42) sneezes from Geto’s Attempt.
Method Use/Application: Lavender hidden in a flower crown already dripping with sakura pollen. Also used suggestibility, increasing success with sneezy talk.
#waterfallwrites#is this way too long? yes. have i not slept enough to be writing this much? also yes.#am i posting it anyways bc i loved writing it and the concept was so fun to me? yes#anyways thank you to anyone who bothers to read this#and i hope you enjoy!!!#snz#snzkink#snzfic#j/jk#g/ojo#g/eto#s/atosugu
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I Don’t Want To Be A Hero, So Leave Me Alone
➥ summary: Like any reincarnation fanfiction this story has to do with a women from the real world dying and getting reincarnated into a anime with some massive op powers. Throughout most of this story you are nothing but a 8 month year old which transforms later on into a child, well if we make it that far that is.
➥ chapter 10: Embers of Redemption
➥ a/n: Hehehe bet y’all wasn’t expecting that in the last chapter, I’ve decided I am to rewrite the my hero academia fandom and not follow the storyline
The air hung heavy with anticipation as Tomura Shigaraki, a young boy burdened by a tragic past, stood before (Y/n)'s parents. His heart raced, his palms sweaty, as he prepared to reveal the depths of his pain and regret.
With a deep breath, Tomura began to recount the story that had haunted him for so long. His voice trembled with a mixture of vulnerability and sorrow as he shared the truth of his quirk, Decay, and the devastating consequences it had wrought upon his family.
As the words tumbled from his lips, (Y/n)'s parents listened intently, their expressions a blend of empathy and compassion. They understood the weight of his confession, the burden he carried. But more importantly, they saw beyond the darkness that shrouded him and recognized the potential for redemption.
With a heavy sigh, Tomura concluded his tale, his eyes seeking solace in the depths of their understanding. His heart yearned for forgiveness, for a chance at a new beginning.
Silence enveloped the room for a moment, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves outside. Then, (Y/n)'s father spoke, his voice steady and filled with genuine empathy.
"Tomura, what happened to your family was a tragedy. But you are not defined by your past, nor by the actions of your quirk. You have the opportunity to choose a different path, to seek redemption and make amends."
Tomura's gaze shifted to (Y/n)'s mother, who met his eyes with warmth and kindness. "We want to help you heal, to support you on this journey of redemption. You are not alone, Tomura. We believe in your potential for growth and change."
Tears welled in Tomura's eyes as he absorbed the depth of their compassion. Never before had he encountered such understanding and acceptance. It was a bittersweet revelation, the taste of hope mingling with the bitterness of his past.
(Y/n), who had been sitting beside her parents, crawled across their laps and gently took Tomura's hand. Her touch was a lifeline, an unspoken reassurance that she, too, was committed to his journey of healing.
“Tomura," she says her voice filled with unwavering support.
‘We're here for you.’
’We will stand by your side as you find your way, as you build a new future.’
Tomura's heart swelled with gratitude. Even if she hadn’t said much he could feel she meant well from her burning glaze alone he knew what she had been trying to say. He had expected rejection and condemnation, yet he was met with understanding and love. It was a second chance, a flickering ember of hope that ignited within his soul.
In the days and months that followed, Tomura became an integral part of (Y/n)'s family. They provided him with the love and guidance he had never experienced before. They helped him confront his past, process his emotions, and envision a future that was not marred by the darkness of his quirk.
As time passed, Tomura's transformation was evident. The anger and despair that had once consumed him slowly gave way to introspection and a desire for redemption. He sought solace in the unconditional love of his newfound family, using their support as a stepping stone toward personal growth.
Together, they faced numerous challenges and trials, each obstacle a testament to their collective strength. Tomura found solace in the wisdom and guidance of (Y/n)'s parents, who helped him navigate the complexities of his emotions and channel his abilities toward a greater purpose.
With their unwavering support, Tomura began to rebuild his life, brick by brick. He sought to make amends for the pain he had caused and to forge a new path—one defined by compassion, understanding, and the pursuit of justice.
As the days turned into months, Tomura's journey of redemption continued, and the bond between him and (Y/n)'s family grew stronger. Their home became a sanctuary, a haven where he could heal and find his place in the world.
In the embrace of his chosen family, Tomura discovered the transformative power of love and acceptance. He learned that the road to redemption was not an easy one, but with the support of those who believed in him, he could overcome the darkness that had once defined his life.
And so, hand in hand with (Y/n) and her family, Tomura embarked on a new chapter—a chapter filled with hope, growth, and the unwavering belief in the capacity for change.
As the sun set on their shared past, Tomura embraced the possibilities of a future yet unwritten. It was a journey he would not face alone, for he had found a family who saw beyond his quirk and recognized the potential for goodness within him.
In the warmth of their love, Tomura learned that redemption was not an unattainable dream, but a flame that burned brightly within his soul, waiting to be nurtured and embraced.
And so, together, they forged ahead, ready to face the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, armed with the strength of their bond and the transformative power of compassion.
#x reader#x reader series#I Don’t Want To Be A Hero So Leave Me Alone#I Don’t Want To Be A Hero So Leave Me Alone series#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x y/n#bnha#bnha imagines#bnha fanfiction#bnha x reader#bnha imagine#bnha x you#my hero imagines#my hero academia imagine#my hero x reader#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero academia imagines#my hero academia x reader#my hero fanfic#my hero acedamia#I Don’t Want To Be A Hero So Leave Me Alone masterlist
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Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader
Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.
Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader
Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.
Words: 2878
I Masterlist I
A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?
“Ew! Stop it!”
You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.
If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...
Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.
Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.
“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”
“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”
“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction.
“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes.
“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”
Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.
You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”
As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.
She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.
“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”
However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:
“For this is your duty as a princess.”
[Present Day - Asgard]
It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.
Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.
Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.
Now there was no way back, that much was sure.
You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.
One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.
To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.
Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.
Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.
To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.
But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.
A Frost Giant.
Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?
Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...
So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?
Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?
It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.
You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?
You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.
No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.
“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.
The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”
You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.
“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.
Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?
One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.
“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.
“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.
And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”
“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”
“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.
Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.
“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.
“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.
The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.
“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”
“May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.
Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.
Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.
“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”
Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”
Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?
He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!
“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.
Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.
There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.
“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”
Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”
Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.
“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.
It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.
“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.
The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?
Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.
“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”
He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”
“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.
“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”
Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.
You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.
Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?
And was he truly beyond repair?
“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”
Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”
“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”
Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?
“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.
Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...
So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.
“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”
“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.
“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”
The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.
Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.
Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.
Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble - but right now, it was worth it.
May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.
“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”
#Loki#Loki x Reader#Loki x You#Loki Odinson#Loki Laufeyson#Loki Friggason#Loki/Reader#Loki/You#Self Insert#Fanfiction#Arranged Marriage#Writing#Marvel#Asgard
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You Are In Love
Loki x Reader
1989, epilogue
"You are in love, true love."
Summary: It's hard to find the one, but even if you do find him it's always going to be a daily struggle to make it work. Can you even make it work after he broke your heart? The answer to that is complicated, but it all started when you found each other again in the stark tower- and that's where our story begins.
Word count: 7,106
Warnings: some angst, some unreliable narrator, fluff, me being a hopeless romantic.
A/N: this is the very end- the epilogue, and it is based on the 1989 deluxe song You Are In Love. I really think this is important to the story despite it being an epilogue because I based some of the things solely because I wanted a scene here to happen, I needed that scene. Okay idk how this got so long, I'm sorry! Also, not me stealing quotes from my favourite book… I cried writing this.
A/N2: thank you to @chrissquares for all the incredible dividers she made for my series, and for @nacho-bucky who beta read it all and managed to put up with me. I appreciate you two so much, I love y'all!
No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.
Series masterlist
Song on Spotify and YouTube
The room was dark and silent as you got into bed, playing the same thing that has been in your mind for weeks now. You heard him in your head, and saw him in your mind as you went to sleep. It hasn't been long since you first saw Loki, but he plagued your mind. Being asleep did not make him go away. You shut your eyes.
The wind felt cold on your skin but your palm was warm as he held you close. When you looked down you found yourself in a dark golden gown, a smile spread on your lips when you looked into his eyes and he took you to dance with him. You saw nothing but him as he twirled you around, your surroundings did not matter as the whole world stood in silence, the two of you were only focused on each other. You were wonderstruck, dancing around with him and looking at his bright blue eyes, you prayed he won't let you go. He only held you lightly with the palm of his hand and the arm around your waist but you felt enough.
He whispered in your ear terms of endearment and you could feel yourself blush. He twirled you around and out of his reach. You danced around all alone, until you turned around and saw Loki sitting on the back of a car, his hand inviting you. You felt your confusion go away as you climbed up to sit next to him, your jeans barely touched his black pants. Then he talked to you.
"Do you remember?" You heard his voice say to you and you turned your head.
"What?" You sat there when Loki talked to you.
"Look up." You heard his voice say to you and you turned your head up and looked at the stars, and your shoulders brushed. A shudder of warmth coursed through you as you saw the brightest star in the sky. You turned your eyes on Loki and the lights turned out.
You woke up in a shudder, heaving, you looked at the clock that mocked you. 1:58.
You turned to the other side of the bed and hoped sleep would take you quietly this time.
•
Loki walked along the bifrost, his heart was beating and racing, it didn't matter how many times he visited Heimdall, he was still anxious for his answer every time.
"Heimdall," Loki greeted the guardian.
"Prince Loki, are you going to ask the same question every time?" Heimdall looked over at the distressed prince. He remembered seeing him, when he was so young, so happy when he snuck him out at night so he can go to see the human woman he fell so hard for. He remembers Loki coming back in the morning with a smile on his face that he has never seen on him before; he remembers the young innocent prince showing him the necklace he carved especially for you, with his insignia on it; he remembers him being hopeful for the future- with you.
"I just want to know how she is."
Now he is an idiot.
"Just like she was the last time you asked me." Loki merely nodded, looking down on the ground. Heimdall waited for him to ask the other question he always asked.
"Is she- is she seeing someone?" Loki kept his eyes down, he held his breath.
"No." Heimdall tried to comfort the prince but he knew the answer won't do. Loki nodded to him, he never knew if he liked the answer or if he wanted you to find someone and be happy even if it is without him.
"Is she happy?"
"Yes, she is. She is happy and content," Heimdall stepped forward and put a hand on Loki's shoulder. "But it's been four years- don't you think there is a reason why she is still alone?"
"She just hasn't found-"
"She won't find someone who will make her happy like you did."
Loki refused to be selfish like he was in the past with you. Now that he understood what you asked him all those years ago at sunset, he refused to destroy your peace. Yet, he refused to forget you.
"However, your highness, she will not be available forever." Loki finally looked up at him, "and forever is not a lot of time for mortals."
"Then what am I to do about it?" Loki has told Heimdall a great deal about you, he never told his mother about you but since Heimdall was the only one who knew- Loki conversed with him after you had a fight, gushed to him about new midgardian stuff you taught him, and Loki knew that he didn't have to hide you from him.
"Do not sabotage your own happiness, it is not a selfish act if both of you will be happy from it. She will be happy to see you again, I can see that." Heimdall looked into the prince's eyes and hoped he could bring some sense to him.
He almost missed the way his eyes shone for just a moment, before the prince turned away to go back to the palace.
"Thank you, Heimdall, truly." Loki turned to him briefly before turning once again.
He wasn't as uncertain as he thought he would be; he pondered as he made his way across the rainbow bridge.
•
You woke up yet again alone, another sleepless night made you long for something you didn't have, leaving you tired. You reluctantly got out of bed, closing the curtains and concealing daylight and opting instead to turn on the lights. You had a long day ahead of you, so you shook the blue eyes that haunted you from your mind, you could almost see them in the shadow at the corner of your room.
It was just a trick of the light. You checked.
You walked out the door, not before taking a double look at the apartment, it was empty but… it felt wrong. You could almost see a silhouette, you must have been losing your mind, you thought, as you turned out the lights and walked to work. But right before you closed the door you sneaked one last glance, and you could still see it with the lights out.
Work had been tedious, Pepper was busy which meant that so were you, but at least you amused yourself in your breaks. Seeing the competitive supersoldiers spar on the mat sure could bring a smile to your face any day.
You weren't lonely by any means, you were happy with your new family that seemed to adopt you the moment you got the job, you were happy with your job, but from time to time you couldn't help but feel… hollowed. Something was not quite right, something was missing and you couldn't figure it out. Sure, you didn't have a boyfriend but that wasn't it. Every guy that hit on you just seemed wrong, you didn't feel the need to get one. You were satisfied and happy… was that enough?
You buttoned your coat to shield you against the autumn chill as you went back home. Happy suggested driving you, Tony basically commanded it but you sneaked out as he was arguing with someone on the phone, waving Happy goodbye as the elevator doors closed. You felt like walking today.
Autumn air swept past you as you walked, you looked through store windows at the TV, one reporter was talking about how there were sightings of the evil god of mischief. You stood there and stopped to look at it, could you have missed him? You remembered when you saw him at the Avengers Tower- when you first met him at the Tower- he left too soon, you fixed yourself in your own mind and watched as the reporter showed pictures after rambling about how dangerous it is.
Your heavy chest breathed again when you saw the photos- Steve's hair has not been like that in years, this was not recent. You shook your head and continued walking.
You remembered when he passed by you, you remember the chill of him that for some reason gave you warmth. And now in the cold weather you could feel it all over again on your way home. You could imagine it, and it was so real there, him being on your left, you could almost feel him breathing on your neck.
You opened your eyes and looked over your shoulder. He wasn't there.
Long story short, you were sure you were going insane- having an unexplainable crush on a god you met once upon a time, what was it? Four year ago? You hoped your mind would stop listening to your heart this one time.
You met him one time, you talked a bit before he passed by you, meeting him was rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky- that is what you told yourself at least, when days passed and you remembered him but you didn't see him again.
You shook your head again, shaking him away, you were just chasing shadows and there was no point in that. You knew that and wished logic would calm your racing heart.
•
Loki stepped into the Allfather's throne room and dismissed all the other Asgardians that were there.
"My son, what are you doing?" Odin rose up before he saw the look on Loki's face and with a raised interest he sat down as Loki went up the golden stairs.
"I have a request, it is important to me."
"And you came to ask me to grant it?" Odin raised a brow and studied the god of mischief, doubtful with every moment that went by. This sure is intriguing.
"I am afraid you are the only one that will be able to fulfill my wish." Loki's thoughts were still messy in their silence, scattered in ways he didn't try to collect. He thought about it the whole way to the palace. Even when he was satisfied here, and when he and Thor became true brothers after everything went down… it still wasn't home. It isn't home- it never was since he met you.
"Well do tell me what made you so desperate that you came to me?" Loki took a breath in.
"My love." He breathed out.
"The mortal midgardian girl?" Odin seemed to understand the situation. He never thought it would come from Loki, he never thought anyone would come to him for it, especially not the prince. "What would you want me to do?"
"The one thing only the Allfather is capable of doing." Loki lifted his head up and looked at his father with determination. He was certain with his decision.
•
Loki walked the rainbow bridge feeling different and yet the same all at once- he felt new. But with one weight lifted, another dread took its place.
Heimdall nodded at him with a small smile and Loki found himself returning it, it reminded him of the first night he came back to Asgard after meeting you in Midgard. Heimdall always knew from the start.
He stepped into the Avengers Tower, knowing that by this hour you were probably back at your apartment- at home. He stepped into the living room and found the witch, the billionaire, and the captain there sitting around on the several couches.
"Loki?"
"Captain," The god nodded to him in recognition. He wasn't quite sure what to say.
"What are you doing here?" the god walked around to stand in front of the three avengers.
"I've come to a decision."
"I used to want the Throne, father." Loki continued, "The very one you are sitting on, or the one I'd put on Midgard. As the rightful heir to the throne, and as the King of Jotunheim, I deserve that.
"I was born for it- and so, I used to want the throne. I used to think myself superior to everyone in the nine realms, the mortal midgardians out of all… that was until I met her, my love. When you met your love, father, it didn't change you. You caused ruin and shed blood and now you are sitting on a throne built on that in a world that now I am fit to rule." Loki did not let the Allfather speak in between. He deserved this, he knew that now.
"During the time you were away and under my spell, I made Asgard prosper… look how well it all turned out," he chuckled bitterly. "I used to want the throne but now I realize I just wanted to be acknowledged for my abilities, for my wit, instead of being shadowed to the side- all because you decided to pick up a baby and use it as political gain only to find it useless." Loki took a breath to close his eyes, he remembered it all, he remembered the day he found out about it all, about his glorious purpose his father planned for him.
"And Then I met my love, and she saw everything- all of that-inside me already without me having to prove it to her. She made me realize that I have nothing to prove to you- an abuser who calls himself king.
While Thor is my brother, and I acknowledge that I still am both Odinson and Laufeyson, this is not the home I thought I could make it out to be… by fixing everything else and making the people love me, fear me, acknowledge me. Even when my mother was here, I was not able to be fully myself, not here, not like I was whenever I'd sneak out of Asgard to be with her." Loki smiled, thinking about all of your moments together.
"Those were the sole moments where I felt what a home should feel like- though I never had anything to compare it to, and you made me think that somehow I should be grateful for you- for taking me here instead of dying in the cold, even though you were planning to use me as bait to gain advantage on your opponent.
Then I found her and she warmed her way into my heart and despite it all she still loves me and cares for me and I know that if I ever had a home… it wasn't on Jotunheim or here with my brother- it was with her: In a small apartment in Midgard, surrounded by mortals.
"And so, yes I am the rightful king of Jotunheim and a prince of Asgard, god of mischief… but I also have a home waiting for me in Midgard and I also am in love. And only now I realize all I want I can get, which is the home that I gave up on all those years ago- trying to make this home better. I don't want the throne anymore.
"So now, now I choose her."
"You decided to come back?" The witch leaned forward and asked him, he was about to nod when the captain spoke up.
"What about you saying that you want her to have peace?" Steve crossed his arms and rose up, "You said that as a god you won't be able to give her a peaceful life?"
"Yeah what changed in the last few years?" Tony continued sipping on his drink, casually looking over at the god with an arched eyebrow.
"Well, I came to a few realizations about her and myself which is why I am here now." Loki started, "now I can be what she needs me to be, if she will take me back."
"She still thinks of you, her thoughts are so loud sometimes." Wanda smiles at him, he is still wary with her after she saw inside of his mind. "How did you change then?"
"Well," Loki took a breath. "The ruling god, the Allfather, has the ability to revoke the immortality of a god. And so- I asked my father to take away my immortality."
They stared at him in silence, one in disbelief, one studying him, and one confused.
"So now if I stab you, you will die?" Stark asked and the god rolled his eyes.
"The Asgardian gods were never immortal, we are almost immortal, so even if you had stabbed me before I could have died- I however doubt you would have managed to do any harm to me." Loki dismissed the small man.
"Wait, what about your… magic?" Steve asked and one shrug later an identical Captain America stood in front of him, smirking.
"Patriotism, Justice, god bless America!" Loki shapeshifted back to himself before continuing, "I still have my magic, powers, and the rest of the qualities as the god that I am- that make me way above all of you- I am just not as immortal, and I will be able to live with her properly."
"So, you are like a supersoldier." Steve nodded in understanding, and Loki smiled slightly.
"Yes, but a lot more powerful and better."
Steve shook his head but let out a small laugh.
"So when are you going to see her?"
"Well, I think I wasted enough time already." Loki let out a chuckle, and he didn't even bother hiding the excitement in his blue eyes.
•
Loki hoped his excitement, as well as his nervousness, were hidden- he gave up using illusions around you a long time ago, and it was very long ago but he didn't want to use them now. This time he was going to make it right.
It was weird, not having unlimited time anymore. But his doubts about the decision stopped when you opened the door after hearing his soft knocks.
Your eyes were beautiful, they always were but he missed them terribly, now they were filled with a mix of confusion and excitement. He couldn't help the slight smirk that slipped out across his lips- at least he still had that affect on you.
You had a hard time processing who was at your doorstep, but you could already feel the butterflies blooming in your stomach. So long trying to suppress your weird crush. It seems to be inevitable now that he showed up years later.
When you saw his smirk you realized you must have been staring at him longer than you should have.
"Loki?" his name tasted weird on your tongue, you couldn't place the little spark that flew in your mind, making your head ache a bit.
He brought his hands up and with a light green glow he held blooming flowers in his hand.
"May I come in, love?" you could barely speak with the way his blue eyes shone, like moonlight against the darkness of the night like the suit he wore.
You nodded and stepped back to let him in.
You were certain that when he walked past you and handed you the flowers he had a certain glow to him, like an aura that was visible to the naked eye, it both calmed you down and overwhelmed you, so you looked away.
"These are my favourite, how did you know?"
He turned to look at you and you couldn't help but blush, wonderstruck at the little whispers you could almost hear his eyes hold, a silent question. You couldn't answer.
"I have magic, did you forget, dear?" Loki smiled when you locked the door and turned back to him. "I can read minds."
You laughed, and what a sound it was.
"That's bullshit, I didn't think about flowers now. Can you read what I'm thinking now?" you raised a brow at him, happy to call him on his bluff- you hoped it was a bluff, you'd rather the earth swallow you alive than if he could know what you're thinking while he is here.
"You are wondering what I am doing showing up at your door close to midnight." He took a step towards you. He wasn't wrong. "A little birdie told me."
You let out a nervous chuckle when you saw him standing closer now, but it turned to anger when you understood his words.
"Steve told you?" you went around him contemplating how to kill Steve, Natasha owed you a favor after all; you muttered, "That son of a bitch…"
Loki figured he will go with your answer, it is the easier answer. You came back shortly with a vase and the flowers in the water in it.
"Do not fret, those flowers are special, they have an enchantment on them so they will not die."
At least you didn't have to worry about that, he was so considerate and normal that you almost forgot about the odd situation.
"Why are you here?" You asked and clasped your hands in front of you.
"You told me to come to you if I ever plan to take on the planet again, so here I am." He smiled at you such an honest smile, and you didn't even know why he was so happy, but you knew that smile will linger in your mind like a tattoo kiss. It was so tempting to look at his lips for longer and imagine to yourself what his kiss would taste like. "If I'm honest, you've left quite an impression on me the last time we met."
"Oh?" you hoped the heat in your cheeks was not visible, you bit your lip. "Can I trust the god of mischief to be honest?"
"Of course you can, just trust me." His serious look contrasted your playful one.
"Why do only the untrustworthy people say that?" you mused and smiled at him, hoping to ease whatever tensions you felt brewing in his mind.
"Well, love, that is because the people that you know you can trust don't need to say it." He looked at his shoes and you took the time to really admire him now that he was up close and real.
"Well then, I guess you don't need to say it." You found pride in how he lifted his head and a sly smirk took over. "Do you want something to drink?"
If he was here, after all those years of only imagining him, you could ignore the odd situation just so you could make him stay a little longer this time.
"I'd like that, thank you." You invited him to your kitchen as you made yourself some tea.
"What would you like?"
"Coffee is good." He wondered how far he could take it with you, letting a gentle glow almost reach you when you turned around and he stopped.
"Coffee at midnight?" you questioned him, "Okay, what kind of coffee do you like?"
"I am a god, love, it doesn't affect me the way it affects you," he laughed when you rolled your eyes. "Pick whatever you think I would like."
You nodded at him with a shy smile. You turned away from him and made his coffee as he sat around you at the isle. You felt little tickles in your brain then. You tried to shake them off somehow but when they got stronger you winced at the slight headache.
"Are you okay, love?" god, you were already getting used to the pet name he gave you.
"Yeah, just a headache- nothing tea cannot fix." You laughed and turned back to him and the headache was gone, you couldn't help but wonder if he used his magic to heal your headache. It would be stupid to assume that though, so you stayed silent and took a sip of your tea. You gave him his cup of coffee and your hands brushed- it was one touch but you felt enough to know that he will linger on your skin.
"So tell me," you broke the silence that took over as he kept looking at you with soft eyes. He hummed and urged you to continue, "How can I help you take over earth? Where do we start?"
He laughed and you promised yourself to make sure he will laugh again. And you wanted to hold him, but you held back that urge and relished his familiar- no, comforting presence as you talked through the night.
•
From there you saw Loki around more, at work or when he would invite himself into your house at night or during your day off. You fell so easily into routine with him, he filled the space in your life that used to be vacant, you never really noticed it until he had to go to Asgard for a month to deal with a meeting. He made up for it when he came back though, walking you home that night and the next night, and the one after that…
It did nothing to sooth your crush on the god, it increased it if anything. Whenever you saw him, he would sooth the headaches you were getting lately, you could almost feel the gentle almost featherlike caresses of his magic- it had to be his magic, even if he never said anything, you saw it in his eyes.
You managed to handle it until he followed you around at work- and you were surprised when the Avengers did not even comment on it or flinch.
"You look lovely as ever, my love," he picked the necklace on your neck and your breath hitched at his closeness and the way his fingers brushed your chest and throat, "Always a sight to behold."
"Oh, Loki," you always stammered at his compliments that he shamelessly threw at you, "you're so sweet thank you, I- I have to go now, I need to go to Pepper- I have work, yes work."
You cringed to yourself as you turned around and down the hallway, only to shriek in surprise when Loki suddenly materialized in front of you, causing you to fall… almost.
Loki caught you just before you hit the ground, with a hand around your waist and the other holding your hand and bringing you upwards to him. You didn't dare say a word.
"You know that with a beauty like yours Asgardian princesses could never compare- and for your steadiness I'm certain I could teach you Asgardian ballroom dancing- to help you, of course."
As if it couldn't get worse, your cheeks were heating up, and you were caught in his eyes before he thankfully let you go.
"I assure you I am steady and not clumsy, a person appearing in front of me would catch anyone off guard!" you laughed it off.
"I am not a person, dear, I am a god." At the intense look in his eyes you clutched your hands to your side, holding in a gasp you just nodded and went around him to try and get work done.
If Pepper noticed anything, she didn't comment on it.
•
As the days went on, he became bolder and bolder and you couldn't deny that you loved him courting you this way and knowing that he only has his eyes on you. On some days he was bolder, on others you took the leap to get closer to him when you noticed he was having a bad day, and sometimes he would be so gentle with you the genuine way of it made your heart soar.
It was all gentle touches and intense eyes that you still saw when you closed your eyes in the dark of the night. It was the slowest build up that made you feel like he was always there with you, whether it was in your heart or soul or body, it surrounded you in warmness you didn't know you missed.
And then he asked you out, as you showed him your favourite spot in the park. He just laughed and smiled at you and when you asked why he held your cheeks and asked you out on a date. He wanted it done properly.
So now you stood at your home in your best dress- it was green, you found it in your closet and you liked how it matched the colour of the shirt he often wore.
The doorbell rang so you looked in the mirror one more time, seeing the dress and the necklace he seemed to love. You looked around the dimly lit room and the set table and once you were sure everything was ready- you opened the door.
And there he was in all his glory, you couldn't have stopped the smile you shone at him even if you tried, he seemed to have that affect on you. You could see royalty on him, you could feel it, even when he stood there with a simple black suit.
"Hello dear," he looked you up and down, remembering another night you wore this very same dress, only you didn't wear that necklace, not yet. "You look ravishing."
"As do you, I really like this suit on you." You brushed your hand on his chest, straightening the tie. "Come on in."
Loki stepped into the room, appreciating the memories he has of all of your date nights, even those that you had before the two of you got together. He appreciated every single one of them.
Then he once again looked at you, the candles giving you a glowing aura, making you shine and his breath left him speechless.
The light reflected the chain on your neck, the one he gave you all those nights ago, that faithful night.
"Loki? What are you hiding there?" you laughed at him as you tried to circle him and see what he was clasping behind his back. Only to see green lights as he made whatever it was disappear with a smug smile on his face. "Hey that's not fair!"
He put his hands on your hips and pulled you to him as you tried, and failed, to stay stern.
"You are dating a trickster, love, you brought this on yourself." He laughed at you as a giggle escaped you before you again tried to drop the smile that gave away your true emotions. "It's your fault that you love me!"
His laugh stopped when he saw the wondering look in your eyes and he realized what he had said. Then he backed away from you.
Shaking his head, he laughed it off before putting on a smile that you knew was a cover for his true emotions. He pulled out a golden box, you had never seen something like this before. You knew he was distracting you but chose to let it go- for now, at least.
He looked at you with gleaming eyes, urging you on as you held it and opened it.
You caught your breath when you saw a golden necklace laid inside it. It was fairly simple, but it was golden and even had a glow around it. The pendant of the necklace was a simple circle that held a weird S shaped symbol on it. You looked at Loki as he took it out and held it in his hand.
"What is it, Loki?"
"That, my love, is my symbol. Two snakes circling each other, biting each other's tails, and in a way- they symbolize me."
"That is beautiful, Loki, thank you." You traced the symbol delicately- it was intricate but you could tell it was hand carved. You let him put it on you.
"This way, you will have a part of me wherever you go."
You held back tears and tuned around to face him, jumping in and hugging him close.
"You were right before, you know, I've been meaning to tell you this anyway." You pulled back only by an inch but he went and sat on the couch, so you went ahead and sat on his lap, letting his arms circle you.
"What do you mean?" he asked nervously.
"I love you."
Norns, he was so afraid to tell you back then, but now he wasn't afraid, and all he had to do was wait. He was willing to wait until you were ready, he hoped the light spells he had been casting were doing their work well, he hoped it won't be long.
•
You woke up in your bed, smiling at the golden daylight, you turned around and reached for the other side of the bed, happy to see Loki was still asleep.
It was rare to see him like this- peacefully sleeping. You lightly traced his face, careful with the light bruises he came home with. They were already healing but you still didn't like seeing them. You convinced Loki to let you clean them up, he argued about how he is a god, and yet he let you do it anyway.
"Good morning, beautiful." He murmured, still half sleeping, he grasped your hand in his and kissed the inside of your wrist.
"Good morning, handsome." You smiled at him. "You said I have you for the week, right?"
"I'm all yours, my dear." He pulled you closer now, "I have a few ideas on how to spend these days…"
You laughed and let him kiss you, you were just happy to have him home.
It was a few hours later that morning that you got out of bed, groaning at your sore muscles and chuckling to yourself at the smell of the burnt toast, it was only Sunday.
You put on his shirt and stepped outside to the kitchen.
"Will you ever not burn the toast?" he shrugged at the comment but didn't reply as he tried to break an egg into the pan.
"This is ridiculous." He grumbled to himself. "After all this time and I still don't get it."
"You didn't try to do this that long." You chuckled as he finally gave up and used his magic. "You have only been here with me for like half a year now."
"Right," he fixed himself, quickly coming back to you and serving you your breakfast the way he remembered you used to like.
"Thanks, Loki." You kissed his cheek as he sat next to you. "But how about you take the first bite?"
You bit your tongue to stop yourself from smirking.
"Now, darling, there is no need for that."
"Sure there is, I'll be very amused." You laughed at the look he gave you and how he tickled your side.
"I am not amused."
"You know, for an Asgardian you sound so British."
"False, English people sound like Asgardians." He pointed a fork at you before he ate from your breakfast, you joined in only after he approved of it to your surprise.
You sipped on your tea, sighing at the perfect morning you got to enjoy. That was when you realized that you are in love. In love with a god. You read books after you met him, you knew that this wouldn't last.
"How are your bruises? They seem to be healing okay, do they hurt?" you brushed away a strand of hair out of his face.
"I told you, darling-"
"I know, I know, you're an immortal Asgardian god, you can handle wounds like these." You laughed and hoped he wouldn't see through it. That was the one sentence from the book you read that haunts your brain. It made you remember a sunset, but you've never been with Loki to a sunset, maybe you should go sometime.
"Actually, Asgardian gods are just almost immortal. But I am not immortal anymore." He said, sensing your anxiety, hoping that this information will make it all okay, hoping you will realize that this will last.
"What? Why not?" you should not be delighted by the news, you should be worried of him getting hurt now.
"I decided to give up my immortality, while I still am a god and I assure you I am just as strong as I was before," he took your hand in his and looked into your eyes. "I decided that I want a better, more peaceful, life."
"But why would you-" you shook your head.
"I had my reasons." He kissed the back of your hand,
You nodded to him and looked away, a sinister kaleidoscope of butterflies of hope rose in your stomach.
Maybe some things last forever after all.
•
"I am both terrified and excited." You held onto Loki's arm for support, praying to any god out there that you won't mess it up and stumble.
The gown you were wearing was golden, with a dark glimmer to it, Loki was matching you in his royal suit in black, green, and gold. Loki finally took you to a ball a year into your relationship, you asked to celebrate it here and he complied
Asgard was beautiful, though you were getting a bit lightheaded from it all, it got worse when you entered the ballroom.
"I told you." Loki leaned in to whisper to you as you took in the scenery.
"What?"
"You are more beautiful than any Asgardian princesses in their best dresses." Heat rushed to your cheeks at the compliment, remembering when he so casually said it to you at the tower.
Loki remembered the night he taught you to dance, the one he finally kissed you and told you those same words.
Loki made sure to keep you away from Odin, and put an armor of magic around the two of you, hoping it would ease your headaches. And then you danced in your own little world, around and around until you got tired and Loki took you home.
•
Half a year later you were going to sleep, Loki was right there beside you, holding you close to him as you laid your head on his chest.
"Goodnight, my love."
"Goodnight… I love you."
"I love you too." Your lover kissed your head and then as you closed your eyes you felt the same tingles in your brain that you started to get whenever you went to sleep or even when you went to work.
Soon enough you fell asleep and your dreams took you along.
You wandered along places with Loki beside you. You were there with him on a high hill, staring at the sunset. "I'll treasure this moment forever." You heard him tell you but you didn't hear him- no, it was something else. You smiled at him and suddenly you were in your apartment, and you were smiling as he kissed you, you saw two paper airplanes flying around and he said- talked to you. "I told you my way was better." You heard yourself laughing at him and felt yourself bringing him back to a kiss. You were there with him as you ran through the trees until you stopped and climbed up, where was this again? "Come on, Loki, I now a place we won't be found." You giggled to him- no- you heard yourself giggling. Was this a dream anymore? With the growing headache this must be a nightmare. Since when do you have vivid dreams like this? Your apartment looked different as you danced around it with Loki. "I bet you'll look just as beautiful in an Asgardian dress. Like a true Asgardian goddess." But no- he couldn't have told you that there. You felt ecstatic as he leaned in to kiss you right there, it's your first kiss. No, it wasn't. You felt it all, you knew this was inevitable. Did you know that? Your head was spinning as you saw that golden necklace you found in your drawer. "It has my symbol on it, two snakes circling each other," biting each other's tails. No, you must have read it somewhere. Then you walked towards the spot in the park that you loved, at least that was familiar. "You will get a cold if you keep sitting in the rain, don't you have an umbrella?"Loki looked at you, he seems so much younger, you got shivers from his blue eyes. Your head hurt more and more, you didn't know where you were. All you felt was confusion. You saw the bifrost and there you saw the man with the golden eyes greeting you, he knew you- he knew everything. Did you know? "Do you remember?" Loki came home to you, with a fake smile which turned real when he said "I love you." He loved you. In Asgard yet again, why were you saying goodbye? "Promise you'll get me back, Loki." And then he bowed- but you already knew he was going to do that, the dream didn't have to tell you- "I'll see you around, my love." You remembered.
"I'm going to miss you, even if I won't know it." You did miss him, you missed him all along.
You waked, shot up from Loki's grip, with a hand over your mouth. You could hear the hushed whispers of memories in the silence of the bedroom; you could feel him on the way home even when you had nothing but his necklace; you could see it all now in a kaleidoscope of memories playing with the lights out. You were in love with him- you were in love with him over and over again. You never stopped loving him.
Now you saw it all: yes Loki was your lover, but before that- a lot of things happened before that, he was your best friend.
Loki woke up to the strange look on your face, rising up to be face to face with you. You paused before looking at him and he teared up at what he saw.
"You're my best friend." He saw you- his love- and now you saw him. And he knew what it was, you came back to him.
He took you in and held you close in a hug, laughing as tears ran both of your faces.
"So, 1989." He brought you in for a chaste kiss.
"What?"
"It's been 1989 days since the last time you remembered me." You chuckled.
"Took me that long?"
"It felt like an eternity." You tentatively caressed his cheek.
"Why did you give up eternity for me?" you asked him and he laughed as if it was obvious.
"The only way to survive eternity is to be able to appreciate each moment- and I couldn't do that, not without you." He pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand, "and now- now I get to spend my eternity with you."
You leaned in to kiss him once more, savoring it, you knew: You were ready to fall in love with him all over again.
You lost each other, but you found each other again, and somehow that was everything.
•
Tags: @ayybtch @buckys-other-punk @chaoticpete @madcrazy50 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @the-departed-potato @rogerrhqpsody @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @percabethismyotp14
#my writing#you are in love#1989#epilogue#loki#loki x reader#loki odinson#loki laufeyson#loki odinson x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki angst#loki fluff#fluff#angst#loki imagine#loki fanfic#fanfiction#loki series#taylor swift#1989 taylor's version#tom hiddleston#mcu#marvel
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The Last Mandalorian
Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 3
Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal
Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader
Word Count: 4,320
Rating: G
Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.
Warnings: I don’t know much about starship mechanics so probably nothing in this is accurate but it’s fanfiction people so cut me some slack please, reader gets a nickname 🥳, plot plot plot, discussion of loss of loved ones, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, this is a slow burn but it’s also ridiculously self-indulgent so I’m including as many cute getting-to-know-you scenes as I can, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.
Author Note: Thank you anyone and everyone who has read even a sentence of this story! Special thanks and love to @dindja for creating this stunning, fantastic, amazing piece of fanart for me 💖💖💖 I still can’t believe how perfect it is. I mean, I’m such a sucker for pinky promises it’s not even funny and this is just beautiful 😍😍😍
Part 2
Cross-posted on AO3
For as grand and wide-reaching as the Galactic Empire has become in its ten years of existence, it had relatively small beginnings. A group of radical Force-wielders banded together under the leadership of an old, beady-eyed man named Sheev Palpatine who believed it was his divine destiny to seize control of the entire galaxy, rewriting the ancient laws to match his own beliefs. His cult, the Sith Order, gained attention by attacking Jedi temples, capital cities, places with large populations until every corner of the galaxy had heard of them. Most regarded them with fear, but over time they began garnering a startling amount of followers who were discontent with the status quo and willingly drafted themselves as soldiers in Palpatine’s fight for control.
At first everyone in your village thought Palpatine and his cult of followers weren’t worth worrying about—after all, Shili was a peaceful planet that never drew much attention to itself. But within the first year of its inception, the Sith Order captured Ryloth and the similar peaceful characteristics between the Twi’lek planet and Shili were too glaring to overlook. A seed of anxiety took root in every Togruta’s mind after that, and continued to grow with every planet seized as the years progressed.
The Decimation of Alderaan didn’t start as a tragedy, believe it or not. The Mandalorians, Jedi, and Alderaanians combined their numbers in an all-out fight against the Sith Order. It was the largest battle ever fought in the history of the galaxy, thousands of souls willing to die to defeat Palpatine’s followers. For the first three days of warfare, the fight seemed to be in favor of the allies with many noteworthy Sith members reportedly killed in the fray, such as Palpatine’s second-in-command Dooku and lethal Zabrak assassin Maul. You remember there was a sense of hope felt within your village as everyone listened to the news reports blaring across the Holonet. A belief that things were finally, finally going to return to normal after so much chaos.
But on the fourth day, the Sith Order brought their own ally onto the battlefield.
At the time there wasn’t a name for the droids that slaughtered every opponent they faced. They were described as indestructible, unharmed by blasters and the intense heat of Mandalorian flamethrowers. Not even lightsabers could damage them. The allies didn’t stand a chance, brutally murdered one by one, their dying screams echoing across the Holonet, forever haunting listeners far and wide.
The Dark Troopers were unleashed upon Mandalore afterwards and out of the ashes rose the Galactic Empire, except, in a twist nobody—not even the Sith Order—saw coming: Palpatine died before taking on the title of emperor, passing away in his sleep. A mediocre ending for the monster who permanently altered the foundations of the universe. One of his loyal followers from the cult’s early beginnings took control in his place, a vile man with a penchant for spilling blood and a deceptively bland name: Gideon.
Only seven years-old then, you didn’t understand the unbalance in the Force your aunt kept referencing. You didn’t understand the meaning of the word genocide either. But you did understand the galaxy would never be the same ever again, and the lesson was only further established as truth when the Imperials seized your village.
There is no normalcy to return to anymore.
And as long as Emperor Gideon remains in control, there is no future to hope for either.
__
Silence reigns in the aftermath of Maar’s explanation as the long list of tragedies hangs heavy over the four occupants. There is tension in the air as you await the Mandalorian’s response to the extinction of his people, whether that be an outburst of anger or tears, and each passing minute only intensifies the nervous energy thrumming through your veins. Your leg starts to bounce restlessly, a bad habit you have had since childhood.
The Mandalorian stands eerily motionless. Your eyes keep flicking from your lap to his visor though you know it is rude to stare. His helmet hides his expression, but you don’t need to see it to know he is floundering right now, mind scrambling to piece together all the details thrown at him. From personal experience, you know the loss of a loved one hits like a tidal wave, hitting you over and over again until you must decide if you are going to stand up or surrender to drowning. Grieving the loss of your parents is the hardest experience of your lifetime to date.
But this...this is vastly different. The Mandalorian didn’t just lose his loved ones. He has lost his friends, neighbors, comrades, acquaintances, everyone all at once. This loss isn’t a tidal wave. It is a kriffing avalanche, burying him ten feet under in total darkness, and there is no one he can count on to save him.
Finally, after the longest five minutes of your life, he shifts, resting his hands upon his belt with an unexpected air of seriousness. “I need to go.”
You frown, head tilting. That is his reaction?
“Go?” Ahsoka echoes, sounding as incredulous as you feel. “Go where?”
“To look for survivors,” he answers, blunt and harsh, the words forced through clenched teeth.
Ahsoka is struck silent, and you feel your heart break on his behalf. Your mother’s stories about the Mandalorians had always included, one way or another, their lifelong bonds with each other. You had felt those ties when you had connected with the Mandalorian, believed for a moment as strongly as he did that his fellow warriors would come search for him, that his absence would be noticed and missed amongst them. And here he is now, still desperately clutching to them, unable—or, perhaps unwilling is more apt—to believe a stranger telling him those bonds have been cruelly severed.
“What you need is to rest,” Maar says, gentle yet firm, letting her authority as the eldest in the room seep into her tone.
He shakes his head, not backing down. “I’ve been asleep for ten years. I don’t need any more rest.”
“Your ship, it, uh,” your shoulders hike up defensively when his visor snaps in your direction, pinning you with its blank stare. Clearing your throat, you continue with a slight grimace, “It’s going to need some repairs before it can take off. I can help you fix it.”
Ahsoka looks over at you in surprise, and then in worry. You don’t blame her, especially since the offer had slipped out without you consciously meaning it to. Once again, the Force is calling the shots and you are just along for the ride, a passenger in your own body.
He considers you for a long moment, then asks, “What do you know about the mechanics of a gunship?”
If anyone else had asked you that same exact question, you would have bristled at their condescension and retracted your offer in the next breath. But with the Mandalorian, there isn’t even the slightest hint of patronizing courtesy. It is a serious question prompted from genuine curiosity.
You sit up straighter, smiling at him now. “Enough to confidently say I’m your best shot at getting off the ground.”
__
“What’s your plan, exactly?” Ahsoka asks you, braced against the wall with one eye on you and one on the Mandalorian across the garage, patiently waiting for you to finish assembling your tool kit.
“Huh?” You reply distractedly, trying to decide if you should bring your carbon chisel or not.
“You don’t have one, do you?”
Not. There are bigger concerns than a bit of carbon scoring. You move to grab your favorite screwdriver with a tapered socket, only for Ahsoka to snatch it away, holding the tool hostage.
“Hey!”
“Have you thought about what you’re doing?” Ahsoka asks slowly, staring you directly in the eyes. “Once you fix his ship, he’s gone. And he’s taking our best chance at escaping Shili with him.”
A quick glance over your shoulder shows the Mandalorian studying the scattered BB unit parts on your workbench. You are missing a few vital components needed in order to bring the little droid back to life after a stormtrooper shot a plasma bolt through it for accidentally bumping into his leg, and haven’t had any luck convincing the village traders to track them down for you when they went to the capital.
“We can’t keep him here against his will,” you manage at last, turning back to your sister. “Otherwise we’re no better than the Imps.”
When Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, you shrug a shoulder, adding, “Besides, I think I’m supposed to fix it for him. The Force seems pretty insistent about it.”
She makes a face at that. “I liked you better when you ignored your Force instincts. You didn’t make me worry as much.”
A laugh escapes you, embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet space, and your cheeks immediately start burning. Ahsoka’s lip twitches like she wants to smile, but instead she schools her features into a blank expression when the Mandalorian’s head turns at the sound. Only once he diverts his attention elsewhere again does her stare lose some of its intensity, looking less like she wants to dissect him beneath a microscope. You can practically see her protective-older-sister-instincts buzzing, reacting to the warrior’s presence.
As much as he is a chance at providing an escape, he is also first and foremost a complete and total stranger. Even worse, he is a complete and total stranger who knows how to handle weapons.
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You squeeze her arm reassuringly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours. You’ll be so busy smoothing the Elders’ ruffled feathers you won’t even notice I’m gone.”
Ahsoka finally relinquishes the tool, exhaling a quiet sigh. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.”
__
Walking side by side with the Mandalorian in silence isn’t awkward, per se, but it definitely isn’t comfortable either. He is close enough your arm keeps accidentally grazing against his, the cold brush of metal against your skin startling you each time. You would have considered his nearness strange if you hadn’t heard Ahsoka threaten to castrate him if you wound up hurt before she sent him flying at the juni tree branch outside your window with an unnecessarily strong push of Force.
To his credit, the warrior handled her rough treatment with the same ease he has handled everything else thrown at him. You are beginning to think Mandalorians don’t just wear beskar—they are made of it too. Other than the few glimpses of frustration earlier in Maar’s office, he keeps his cards close to his chest, impossible to read.
He watches everything though, reacting to the slightest of movements and sounds. Constantly alert. You are certain he is watching you right now, despite the fact his helmet is facing forward, your nerves prickling in response to the sensation of eyes upon you.
To your surprise, he is the one to break the silence first. “You sneak out often.”
It is a statement, not a question.
You suppose the dots are easy enough to connect to reach that conclusion. Still, the certainty in his voice has your heart skipping a nervous beat. He hasn’t even known you a day and yet he is privy to secrets no one outside your community is aware of. “Yeah,” you nod your head after a brief lapse of silence, “Ahsoka can’t train in the village. Not with the stormtroopers around.”
“Has your village tried to run them out? Fight back?”
It is only because you know he is just trying to understand your village’s predicament with the little bits of information he has that you don’t snap at him for being so insensitive. He has no idea what these past five years have been like for you all. No idea the amount of losses and sacrifices the community has suffered.
Your grip on your tool kit tightens. “I was twelve when they came. The community is mostly traders and hunters, not trained fighters. The few weapons we had were nothing compared to their blaster rifles, but some of the adults tried to defend the village, including our parents. They...” You swallow, or try to, at least, your throat suddenly dry as sand. “Our aunt looked after us until last year we woke up one morning to find a note she’d left to join the rebellion. We haven’t had any contact with her since.”
The Mandalorian’s gloved hand brushes against your knuckles. This time you think it might have been on purpose.
“I lost my parents as a child, too. There was a riot and they died protecting me,” he offers his own private details with the same reluctance as one volunteering to have their teeth pulled out. “The Mandalorians took me in, raised me as one of their own.”
You say nothing about the way his breath slightly hitches when he says Mandalorians, appreciating his openness as it puts you both on somewhat equal footing with each other.
“I owe it to them to look for survivors,” he tells you, and your montrals detect the quietest hint of a plea in his voice.
“I understand,” you answer, keeping your tone light to preserve the fragility of this moment. This kind of situation doesn’t happen often—two strangers on the same wavelength, exposing their vulnerable underbellies, desperate to be heard and yet skittish at the same time—and it is oddly therapeutic.
A decision is made right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. And even more significantly, it is 100% your own choice without any intervention or manipulation from the Force.
You stop walking, causing the Mandalorian to halt as well. He scans the area for a threat, then visibly jerks when he turns back to find you have your hand held out towards him, pinky raised high, reacting as if you are pointing a weapon at him.
“I don’t understand,” he says, blunt and almost suspicious sounding. Are you just imagining it or can you actually hear him frowning? “What are you doing?”
“Haven’t you ever made a pinky promise with someone before?”
“...A what?”
You snort, ducking your head to hide your smile, and then reach for his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t protest your touch.
“A pinky promise,” you repeat as you make his hand form a fist, curling his fingers towards his palm, and then adjust his pinky so you can wrap yours around it. He watches the whole process wordlessly. “It’s a sacred vow shared between two people. The Elders say once it’s sworn, the promise can never be broken.”
He cocks his head, skeptical. “Never?”
“Never,” you reaffirm with a nod. Licking your lips, you look at his visor, right where you instinctively know his eyes are staring back. “I promise I’m going to help you. No matter the odds.”
And something leaks into your voice then, something resolute and binding and otherworldly. A tremor shoots down your spine, too quick for you to make sense of it.
Your sister’s words echo in the back of your mind, ‘You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.’
You try to pull away, self-doubt gnawing a hole in your stomach, only for the Mandalorian to wrap his pinky tighter around yours, holding you still. A gasp escapes your lips, muffled by the bleeding sincerity in his voice as he swears:
“I promise I will be there when you need me. No matter the odds.”
And although your sister could undoubtedly provide you with a long list of reasons why you shouldn’t, you believe his promise to be true.
__
The Mandalorian heaves a heavy sigh at the sight of his crashed ship.
“I can’t do much about the landing gear,” you inform him, believing honesty to be the best policy for cases like this. “And I brought some foam-jet for the cockpit viewport, but it’s not a permanent fix. You’re going to have to find someone offworld to replace them.”
“Right,” he agrees absently without turning his eyes away. It occurs to you then that this ship is the closest thing to a home he has now. One of the few precious relics from his past he can still physically cling to.
“Does your ship have a name?” you ask.
He looks at you, as if coming back to self-awareness, and answers, “Razor Crest.”
A good name, you think. Strong. A bit mysterious. Just like its owner.
You nod decisively. “I like it.”
His modulator crackles faintly, a quiet noise produced from a sudden exhale of air. You blink at the unexpected sound, surprised to realize you recognize it. A laugh. The Mandalorian just laughed at something you said. What is next in store for you? Are akul going to sprout wings and start flying?
He steps around you, heading for the side entry door still open from yesterday with its ramp laying on the ground, pebbles shifting noisily beneath his boots with each step. You don’t realize you are staring, oddly entranced by the swish of his cape and his purposeful strides, until he calls out your name to ask if you are coming.
You nearly drop your tool kit in your haste to follow after him into the Crest’s interior, ignoring the flaring heat radiating from your cheeks.
For the next few hours, you and the Mandalorian work in companionable silence, engrossed in rerouting wires and welding damaged components with your trusty hand torch. The gunship is older than you initially assumed, perhaps even as old as yourself, and you idly wonder if the Mandalorian found it in a scrapyard somewhere or maybe inherited it from another Mandalorian. You notice the way he handles each piece with an experienced and respectful touch; the same kind of care someone reserves for their most cherished possessions. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves the Crest just by watching him.
Once you have finished sealing the numerous cracks dissecting the cockpit’s viewport like a spiderweb with foam, you approach the Mandalorian to see his progress on returning power to the dashboard. He is on his back beneath the steering controls, rearranging a mess of wires, and barely acknowledges your presence when you squeeze yourself into the tight space next to him.
“The red wire goes before the white one,” you point out, noticing the mistake immediately. “Fire hazard.”
He pauses, looks at where you have gestured, and corrects his error without criticizing your intervention. You bite back a smile, pleased to be heard. Within your community, even though you have proven your skills time and time again, some of the villagers, usually men, don’t always adhere to your advice, thinking you are too young and too female to know about technology, until they inevitably make their problems worse for themselves and come back to you with their metaphorical tail between their legs.
You help him reattach the cover plating once he has finished, screwing the bolts back into their corners, and then watch, fingers crossed, as he attempts the ignition sequence, flipping a series of switches.
None of them light up with even the faintest flicker of life.
“Dank farrik,” he growls under his breath, slamming a fist upon the console.
You take a tiny step forward, hesitant to direct his frustration your way. “Can I try?”
He tilts his head, probably thinking he knows this ship better than anyone and if it doesn’t work for him then you aren’t going to have any luck either.
Eventually he steps back with a shrug, uttering a simple, “Sure.”
Although you can’t remember the last time you were on a ship, it doesn’t take long to refamiliarize yourself with the various controls and screens once you take a seat in the pilot chair. When your hobby for fixing broken machines changed into a passion you wanted to pursue as a future career, you started memorizing any reading material you could find on the Holonet, including the flight manuals for different classes of starships. You flip through the stored information in your mind about gunships as you press a few buttons on the panel overhead, trying out different sequences for a response.
When your third attempt fails, you bite your lip, racking your brain for a solution. You think about Huno’s kitchen droid and how you had been on the verge of ripping off one of your head-tails trying to repair it after one of its fuses blew, causing it to malfunction. Your tools and knowledge hadn’t been able to fix it in the end. It had required a special remedy to bring it back to life.
You lay your palms flat on the console, just as you had held onto the droid’s square torso. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the Mandalorian fidget, as if he wants to come closer but is hesitant to crowd you. You ignore him, pressing your fingertips harder against the metal, visualizing in your mind the unseen gears, cables, and components stiff and powerless. You imagine the parts working properly, a current of electricity running through each wire, life ultimately returning to the entire ship, and whisper under your breath a request to the Force.
“Please work, please work, please work…”
An invisible pulse of energy burns down the length of your arms and discharges through your fingertips, strong enough you jerk backwards against the seat. Every button and screen on the dashboard lights up all at once, beeping with alarm at being so rudely resurrected.
You sit there helplessly, stunned and breathless, hands twitching in your lap. The kitchen droid hadn’t required even half as much energy to restart, barely a pinch. Now your body feels like you have been thrown against the electric fence a dozen times. Wordlessly, the Mandalorian comes to your side to help, punching buttons and turning knobs until the alarms quit blaring. A distant part of your brain thinks the Razor Crest as a whole seems strangely soothed by his presence, not quite as cold and dark, but it is hard to follow that train of thought due to the distracting pain throbbing along your temples.
“That’s quite a spark you’ve got,” he says, not unkindly or accusingly, just a statement of the obvious. He looks down at you, not outright asking for an explanation, but giving you the opportunity to open up if you wanted to.
“Yep, that’s me,” you reply, forcing a cheerful smile, praying it doesn’t resemble a grimace. “Sparks Tano at your service.”
He chuckles again, oblivious to how your heart stutters at its raspiness. “Thank you, Sparks. I appreciate it.”
“Well, we’re not done yet.” You rub at your temples under the guise of adjusting your headband. “I need to take a closer look at the engines before we attempt flying out of here. I—”
“I’ll do it,” he cuts in, already heading for the ladder. “You stay here, see if you can update the navicomputer settings.”
You know he knows that updating the navicomputer is child’s play for you. Clearly you aren’t as great at concealing your pain as you thought you were and this is his way of giving you a break. A small part of you is irritated at being treated like a porcelain doll, but you push those negative feelings aside as quickly as they develop. Your aunt always used to remind you and Ahsoka it was okay to accept help when it was offered, that needing support didn’t in any way make you weak.
“Hey, wait a second,” you call out as you spin around in your seat, freezing him right before he disappears from view into the hull. He holds onto the ladder, waiting patiently for you to continue.
“Back at Maar’s place you didn’t introduce yourself and it’s weird just calling you Mandalorian in my head,” you say, awkwardly drumming your fingers on top of the armrests. He doesn’t answer, eliciting a sigh from your mouth after a drawn-out beat of silence. “What’s your name? You do have one, right?”
“I do, but I can’t tell you it,” he admits at last. “By Mandalorian Creed, only other Mandalorians or my riduur—my spouse,” he corrects, seeing your confusion, “are allowed to know my name and see my face. This is the Way.”
He doesn’t linger to hear your response, dropping down into the hull with a resounding thud. You slowly turn back around, staring absently out the glass. Every culture is unique, including your own, but you think there is something especially interesting about the Mandalorians’. It sounds like a lonely existence, only able to show your face while in select company. What would have happened if he had been unconscious and you had slipped the helmet off his head? What consequence would he have faced?
And if there truly aren’t any Mandalorians left besides him, his spouse will be the only one to ever know him completely. It almost sounds like a love story, if not a little bit heart-wrenching.
Two high-pitched dings from the console jerk you out of your thoughts with a wince. You look for the source, finding the radar lit up and actively scanning the area, and bristle when you see a pair of red dots moving across the screen.
Not even a minute later you are sprinting out of the cave, ignoring the Mandalorian’s alarmed shout from the roof of the Razor Crest. They’re early, you think with panic, looking towards the sky where two starships with Imperial logos are heading straight for your village. Why have they come back so soon?
You push your legs to run faster, your surroundings a blur beyond the trail in front of you, but the effort is meaningless. You won’t make it back home before they land.
And when your absence is noted, bloodshed is not a possibility.
It is a guarantee.
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Hi Steph! Would you happen to have any fic recs that involve John meeting the Holmes family? I always think that's such an interesting dynamic to see! Also, I think this goes without saying but I love your blog and appreciate your contributions to the fandom! Thanks!
Hey Nonny!
Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog!
Oooo! Yes, I love that dynamic too!! ANNNNND!!! You’re giving me the chance to make a part 2 for a REALLY OLD LIST!!! So YAY!!! I found a bunch on a text doc I haven’t posted yet, so HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy, and as always, everyone please add your own!
PARENTS AND FAMILIES Pt. 2
See also:
Parents & Family
Meeting the Family With a Fake Relationship
Do You Love Me? by whitchry9 (K, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Family, Epic Bromance) – John asks Sherlock perhaps the most important question.
Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...
Crisis Averted by Spartangal22 (T, 2,188 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Missing Scene After Confronting Mary, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Family / Friendship, Hospitalization, Sherlock POV, Holmes Brothers) – Lying in the hospital, Sherlock receives some surprising visitors, and manages to deal with two problems he's been having lately. A missing scene from HLV about a formal introduction that was never made and a visit that was never shown.
The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”
On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w., 1 Ch. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.
The Name Game by ItsClydeBitches221B (K, 8,958 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Family, Platonics / Friendship, Sort-of Parentlock, John/Mary, Mary is Nice, Five and Ones, Baby Watson, Mycroft Loves Baby Watson) – The names that baby girl Watson comes up with for her extended family. Or: how everyone—Watsons, Holmes, and others alike— just learned to give up and embrace their weirdness.
The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.
Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.
Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.
An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.
Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."
Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all. (TO READ)
Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.
The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series
Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."
Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.
The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) – A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.
Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”
The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series
The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.
The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball
The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.
Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.
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Eldritch Ghosts
My piece for Day 4 of DP Side Hoes Week! Initially, I was kinda wary about writing this one just because I usually don’t really do a ton of world building in my fics, but I’m actually pretty happy with how this one came out!
Character: Clockwork
Theme: Origin
---
Every ghost had an origin story, the tale of how they came to be. For most, they were created from a dying body, driven to existence through a deep sense of purpose. Perhaps a dying wish they never got to fulfill, or an especially traumatic death that resulted in an overexertion of brain matter in the last moments. For most, this was their origin story.
For other ghosts, they were created in the Zone. Most of that group were born from the procreation of two other ectoplasmic creatures. Not all ghosts had the capabilities of reproduction, but some of the more sentient, more powerful ghosts could find a way if they so pleased.
But for a small group, they were born from the Zone itself. From the deepest, most ancient parts of this vast expanse of ectoplasmic energy. There were only a few ghosts who developed this way, but those few possessed powers that other ghosts could only dream of.
They were called eldritch ghosts.
“So what about you?” Phantom asked. He had taken a liking to a particular stuffed armchair in Clockwork’s haunt, lounging with his back to one arm and his legs dangling over the other. He asked the question lazily, his eyes more focused on the ice shapes he was creating in his palm than on Clockwork himself.
“How were you made?”
Clockwork shifted to his adult form. “I know you’re not a full fledged ghost, but even you should know the taboos of our culture.”
Phantom dissipated the ice crystals. “Oh come on, Clocky! You know how I got here.”
“I know how everyone got here. I am the master of—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom shook his hand nonchalantly to the side. “Master of time, god of all past, present, and future, observer of all timelines and potential outcomes. I know, but even you have an origin story.”
“Not everyone has an exciting tale of origin, ghost child.”
“But you still came from somewhere.”
Clockwork turned his attention back to a portal he was watching. It was of a young ghost child learning to ride a bike for the first time. Clockwork had seen this before, and he would see it again in the future.
He sighed, shifting into his child form and wiping the portal to show a new landscape. It was dark, black. He waved his arm, zooming in further on the scene until a bright green orb of swirling ectoplasm came into view.
“Come, child.”
“Huh?” Phantom rose from the couch. “Oh, what’s that? Is that the zone?”
“Correct.”
Phantom peered closer to the scene until he was hovering just mere inches away from it. “I don’t get it. Where are all the doors?”
“There are no doors in this realm of the Ghost Zone. No portals to other lands, other timelines, or other worlds.”
“Oh. So then why are you showing me this?”
Clockwork pointed his metal staff towards the glowing green mass. “Do you see that?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s the epicenter of the Zone. We all exist around it in an ever growing mass of ectoplasm and space. Everything in this plane originated from that core.”
“Wait, the Zone has a core? Like ghosts do?”
Clockwork nodded, his purple hood bobbing at the movement. “That is correct.”
“Does that mean…” Phantom’s face scrunched up. “Does that mean the Zone is a ghost?”
“Not exactly. The Zone is not sentient, it is merely an expanse of space that emits ectoplasmic energy, the thing that creates and sustains us. Without this core, the ectoplasm in the Zone would be unable to sustain itself, and the Zone as we know it would cease to exist, along with all of us.”
Phantom’s eyes shifted warily back to the screen. “That’s sort of dangerous, isn’t it?”
“How so?”
“If the core is so important for us to stay alive, then why is it so...I don’t know, exposed? Couldn’t some insane ghost just go destroy it?”
“No,” Clockwork said. “That’s the biggest mystery of the Zone’s core. Anyone who’s ever tried to get near the core has never made it back in one piece. The core is so powerful that it incinerates any ghost who attempts to get close. Hence why there are no doors around it either.”
“What if someone just like accidentally stumbles across it? Like what if one day I’m flying, minding my own business, and I get too close to this core?”
“That wouldn’t happen. Ghosts can feel it.” He shifted to his elder form and waved his hand once more at the portal, zooming in even closer to the core until the duo could see all the individual swirling speckles of ectoplasm pulsating around the core.
Phantom was silent for a moment, staring up at the bright green core with childlike wonder. “It looks sort of like a sun.”
“It is like the sun. If we fly too close, we can feel it. But it’s not hot in the way a human sun is. It won’t burn or melt you if you get too close.”
“Then what happens?”
Clockwork took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It had been so long, an eternity even, but even he could never forget the way the Zone’s core felt. How it affected his core, how it directed the ambient ectoplasm around him, guiding him away from the ancient depths of the Zone.
Most ghosts would never get that lucky. Other ghosts would cease to exist.
But not him.
“A ghost who gets too close would feel an intense amount of pressure. At first, it’s just a slight warning, but the closer the ghost gets, the more they would feel as if gravity itself is imploding around them. But if they get close enough, the core’s radiant ectoplasm would begin to interact with the ghost’s own core, and they’ll be driven insane by the Zone’s sheer power. The ghost’s core would become parasitic, and would force the ghost’s body forward until the Zone’s core can reach them. At that point, they’d simply dissolve.”
Danny shuttered. “Seems like a bad way to go.”
“It is.”
“So…” Danny started, his tone shifting into one of cautious curiosity. “Not that this isn’t cool and all, ‘cause it is, but why are you telling me all this?”
Clockwork shifted back into his childlike form. “You wanted to know my origin story, did you not?”
“Well, yeah. But I don’t see how the Zone’s core has anything to do with you specifically. Other than, you know, us being a ghost and needing the Zone’s core to exist and all that.”
Clockwork held his gloved hand up to eye level, watching as the miniature clocks adorning his wrists ticked away at their various times. “Every couple thousand years, the Zone’s core has too much radiant ectoplasm it needs to dispel. A human star does this much more often in the form of solar flares. But the Zone’s core is made of ectoplasm, and so it dispels its energy in the form of a new ghost.”
“So...you mean...you were born from the Zone’s core?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“And you’re still here?” Danny jumped up, swirling around Clockwork in alarm. “How? How did it not drive you insane and make you explode?”
Clockwork chuckled. “Child, I am the Zone’s child. Why would it kill its own creation so soon?”
“But you said the Zone wasn’t sentient.”
“That I did.” Clockwork hummed, shifting back into his adult form. He waved his staff once more at the portal, transforming the scene to a ghost wandering beyond where doors existed. If anything was amiss, the ghost paid no mind, traversing deeper into the empty landscape.
In a few hours, the ghost would be no more.
“I’m sure if I tried to go near it now, I would end up like this poor soul. But upon my creation, the core was expending excess energy. It wouldn’t have wanted to take back the energy it just spent so much effort getting rid of.”
Phantom eyed the portal, looking ill.
"Remember, child." Clockwork swung his staff, morphing the scene back into the child riding a bike. “The Zone is full of mysteries. Ones that I myself do not even fully understand.”
---
Thanks for reading!
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Ghostin'
Requested By @heyziggy: "Song prompt -- 'Ghostin' by Ariana Grande. Reader is dating Rosé and misses her lost lover."
Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader
Word Count: ~ 3,676
Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Death, Crying, Some Cursing, Some Fluff, Happy Ending
Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.
A/N: Did I write this between the hours of 1 and 8am? Yes, yes I did. Inspiration struck and I was able to crank this one out pretty quickly for you! I'm happy with it, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know what you think :)
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
There they are again. Those eyes that have haunted you for the past year, turning what little progress you've made to dust within a second. People say time heals all wounds, and yet that's never felt further from the truth than it does right now.
A rough tremble wracks through your body as you toss and turn, your limbs reaching out for someone that'll never be there again. She's calling out to you, her arms outstretched as she waits in vain. Your feet are rooted in their spot and no amount of effort possible can make them budge. Tears roll endlessly down your cheeks, a steady stream that feels all too real in the moment. As you scream out her name, you faintly hear your own being called; it's distant, but accompanied by a strong grip on your shoulders.
"...Y/N."
Upon jolting awake, your eyes open to find Rosé hovering over you, propping herself up on her elbow. A thin sheet of sweat has formed on your skin, and you attempt to ground yourself by looking up at her. Slowly but surely, her features overtake the ones still burning in your mind from the dream and you're able to breathe again. She brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing her cool fingers against it lovingly.
Despite the darkness, you can see the bags underneath her beautiful eyes. "I'm sorry, baby."
She simply shakes her head in response, whispering, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here to take care of you."
In one motion, you pull her into your arms and bury your face in her neck. This isn't the first time this has happened, and you curse yourself for forcing her to grow accustomed to it. She tries to disguise how much it affects her too, but her efforts are always futile; you can read her like a book, knowing that every time that name falls from your lips in a hushed shout, her heart breaks a little more. She doesn't blame you for a second, but neither of you can deny the strain it puts on your relationship.
She adjusts the two of you so that you're laying against her as she soothingly rubs your back. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered into your ear, and the tears you've been holding back soon begin to fall. Some drop from her eyes as well, but she takes comfort in the fact that you're in her arms, allowing her to hold you. Most of the time you push her away, leaving yourself to suffer alone in some cruel form of self-punishment. But now, if only for tonight, you let yourself sink into her warm embrace.
----
1 Week Later -- The Anniversary
12 months ago, today. That's when your world shattered for the first time and everything fell apart. Your heart had been free of such pain until that fateful day, innocent and unaware that sadness like that even existed. That was the first time you ever truly questioned a higher power, baffled that any 'benevolent ruler' could steal such a bright light away from the world. Your first love -- the girl you once imagined spending forever with -- was killed in a hit and run, left to die alone on the pavement.
A majority of your youth belonged to her: the two of you grew up together, slowly falling until you had enough courage to make her yours. Countless memories were made, back when you had no idea how much they'd mean to you in the future. Life was fun with her: she made the mundane things interesting, and the adventures unforgettable. She was unashamedly herself, never stopping for a moment to give a damn about what anybody else thought of her. The two of you had each other, and that's all that really mattered. She was everything to you.
She was.
You still find her in the little things. Whether it be a commercial for her favorite cereal, a bottle of her signature perfume catching your eye as you shop, or even just a flash of her favorite color, you swear that she's still around. After spending so many years with her, it's nearly impossible to imagine her gone. She was so full of life and enthusiasm when her presence still graced the Earth that the thought of her being faded, that twinkle in her eye forever extinguished, seems like an insult to her legacy.
How are you supposed to move on from something like that? Rosé has been one of the only things keeping your head above water ever since she walked into your life, but a limit exists to what even she is capable of. After getting absolutely no closure, not even being able to see the perpetrator brought to justice, you're left to pick up the pieces. You've always been the type to deal with things on your own, finding it selfish to bring your loved ones down with the weight of your pain, but even you have to draw the line somewhere.
Perhaps that dream had been a sign -- some type of cosmic warning for what was soon to come -- because that line was crossed today.
Her family requested for you to return to your home town and celebrate her life with them. The invitation was extended to everyone she had touched before her life was taken, and even those who wished to show their support despite not having the privilege of knowing her personally. You agreed, and spent the day surrounded by people just as sad as you.
It was strange, at first; being back in the place you had so desperately tried to run from to escape the reality of what happened. But seeing all of them again reopened wounds that had never really gotten the chance to heal in the first place. Her parents' faces, so tired and troubled beneath the mask they attempted to put on, struck a chord within you. Her brother tried to be strong for them, you could tell -- but upon hearing his stifled sobs coming from upstairs, you could see how much it all still affected him. Your old friends were there as well, and their stories of your shared escapades only broke your heart more. It was a physical pain now, the once dull pinch giving way to a full blown ache. As you walked around her house, replaying all of your experiences with her, you felt empty again.
She meant so much to everyone she ever uttered a word to, and yet she was gone in the blink of an eye. You'd think that someone as incredible as her would get some sort of divine protection, if you will -- a blanket of defense against such a cruel fate. But life works in ways we don't understand, and we have to find a way to deal with that. You'd hoped returning here would help you on that quest, but you've come to learn that no one really has access to that elusive answer.
Though the day brought on the reunion of so many of you, it ended just as it had started: none of you any closer to closure. It would take time, no doubt, but you wished more than anything that the road to peace was a little shorter.
-----
Rosé
Sweet, incredible Rosé. She waltzed into your life two months after the incident. A breath of fresh air in every way, she brought light back into your life. She refused to stand by and watch as you slowly destroyed yourself, letting the walls crash down around you. She made everything secure again, successfully keeping you sane and grounded.
Falling in love with her was never something you saw coming. The emotions took their time in building up, every considerate thing she did for you adding to your list of reasons for loving her. It all accumulated until you couldn't hide it anymore, and even she could tell that she was getting through to you. Your fragile heart seemed to forget about its brokenness, because it soared at the mere sight of her.
The day she asked you to be her girlfriend was an emotional one, to say the least. You accepted without hesitation, but a nagging voice in the back of your mind suggested that being with Rosie was a treasonous act. Trying to move on felt wrong; your confused heart sent mixed signals, thinking it possible to wait for your ex's return.
But Rosie dealt with it perfectly -- better than you could have ever wished for. Not one time did she try to take your ex's place; she always respected your process and boundaries, and she never drew comparisons between your relationships. Rosé knew from the get-go that times would get rough, but she never shied away. Arguments happened, as they do with any couple, but she watched her tone and always took time to think before she spoke.
Constantly, she worked to get you to let her in. Sometimes -- rarely -- she succeeded. On the nights that you found yourself crying over her again, your heart aching like usual, Rosie was always next to you in an instant. She hated seeing you so distant and hard on yourself, and she vowed from the beginning that she would be a positive influence in your life.
------
The Birthday
2 weeks ago, Rosé had requested today off in order to be by your side. Your ex's birthday is today, and Rosé knows you'll need her more than you're willing to admit.
"Baby, wake up. Let's get some breakfast."
She rolls over to wake you with a kiss, only to find you already sitting up with tears in your eyes. She reaches up to wipe them away, but you dodge her hand before she can. That's what she can't stand. Having you push her away, effectively keeping her at arm's length, hurts her so much more than you know.
Although she's talented at reading you, truth be told Rosé has absolutely no idea how today will go. You've yet to experience a day like today -- your ex's birthday -- without her here, and even you don't know what'll happen. Your mood is capable of changing in a whipstitch, so you'll have to see how the day plays out.
"Y/N, please." Her eyes are pleading as you look at her again, and they rake over your sad features. Your bottom lip trembles as more tears threaten to overflow, and you sink your teeth into it to quiet yourself. Wordlessly, you do as she asks: you press your forehead against hers and let out a broken sigh as she strokes your arm. Her touch is comforting beyond belief, and you can't help but feel like you don't deserve it. Constantly putting her through the same shit makes you feel like a terrible person.
"You're too good to me."
She goes to shush you like always, but you don't drop it this time.
You gently scoot away from her, meeting her eyes as she mimics your actions and raises her head.
"I can see that it gets to you, Rose. I hate myself for hurting you… I just keep letting you down."
She's prepared to ease your fears from the start, not willing to get into an argument right now. "Stop, okay? I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. I'm a big girl, Y/N. I can decide when I want to stay and when I want to go. I knew from the beginning that we would have these struggles, and none of it has made me change my mind about you."
Her words make your heart flutter, but you still have plenty on your mind to discuss with her.
"You deserve someone without so much baggage. I can't pretend like I'm not still affected by it."
"When have I ever asked you to do that?" She cocks her head to the side, quirking an eyebrow as she waits for you to respond.
"You don't have to, babe. Seeing what it does to you is confirmation enough." You shrug lightly, allowing your eyes to break away from hers for a moment as you gather up what other words you want to say.
"You'll never admit it, not to the full extent, anyway, but I know I'm hurting you. That's the last thing I want; you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy."
"Jagi, do you really think our relationship makes me unhappy? I'll admit that this isn't always easy, but no relationship is, and never once have I even thought of leaving. You seem to forget about yourself in all of this; your happiness is just as important as mine."
She chooses to ignore the self-deprecating scoff you let out at her last sentence, opting to just continue with her train of thought; convincing you to value yourself is a battle for another day.
"So please, let me in. I want us to get through this."
"I do too, baby. So so much. I just can't help but think you could find someone better. I'm a fucking charity case at this point." You drop your head now, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You know she'll be upset with you for thinking so lowly of yourself, but her disappointment almost certainly pales in comparison to the contempt you hold for yourself.
With a heavy, tired sigh, Rosé hooks two fingers underneath your chin and gently lifts your head. "Y/N, look at me. I don't know how to make it any clearer to you: you are the person I want to be with. I want you in my future, and in order to make that happen I'm more than willing to help you deal with your past. I know it's not simple; I know it's never going to be easy; but I want you. All the strings attached."
You blink at the sincerity behind her words, a bit taken aback that she's so steadfast in her decision to stay with you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she's only with you because she feels sorry for you that you were blind to the true extent of her love. It's consistent and unwavering, and you've never felt more valued than when you're with her. To her, you never were nor will you ever be a charity case; she loves you because you're imperfect; because you need her just as much as she needs you.
"Okay."
The simple word from you is more than enough to put Rosie at ease, and she doesn't even try to stop the smile that spreads across her cheeks as you pull her into your lap for a hug.
A light squeak from the bedsprings serves as the only sound in your room as you silently hold one another. She knows that 'okay' was your way of telling her you're ready to let her in.
"I love you." You whisper against her neck, allowing your lips to brush against her soft skin. Both of your collars are wet with tears following the emotional moment you just had, but neither of you care.
"I love you, too, baby." She returns, pressing a kiss to your temple.
After spending a moment just holding one another, communicating your emotions through light touches and kisses, you lift up onto your knees and lay her back onto the bed. She cups your cheeks, loving how they feel beneath her fingertips as you stare into her eyes. Your hands sit on either side of her torso to hold you up, keeping you in place as you smile down at her. Intimate moments like these hold a special place in her heart, and she can never get enough of them.
"I'm so afraid of losing you, Rosie. God, you have no idea how much the thought of it terrifies me." You shut your eyes now, willing away the images of a life without her.
For some reason she had never really considered that to be a cause for your unreachability before. Looking back now, it makes perfect sense; losing someone so close to you in such an unexpected way can definitely make you afraid of getting close to people again. What if you lose them, too?
"I can't predict the future, my love, but I can promise you that I'll spend the rest of my days on this Earth next to you. And I'll find you in whatever comes after, too; you're not getting away from me that easy."
The last sentence is playful, and you smirk at her lightheartedness. She knows just what to say to lighten the mood.
"You're the greatest." You say, leaning down to capture her full lips in a meaningful kiss. She hums into it, pulling you flush against her body as she flips you over.
"Oh really?" She teases, pressing feather-light kisses to your jaw. She can feel your heartbeat pick up, and she grins cockily at the effect she has on you.
"M-mhm." You mutter out with a slight stutter, tracing your hands down her body before letting them rest on her hips.
"Why don't you show me, then?" She's straddling you now, and she pulls away from your neck to gaze down into your darkening eyes.
Soon the room is filled with a high pitched squeal as you pounce, pushing her backwards until her back hits the mattress again.
"As you wish, princess." You say, giving her a little salute before kissing her again.
She smiles against your lips and lets out a joyous giggle at your antics.
-------
The Second Anniversary
"Are you ready, baby?" She asks, turning to look at you and gauge your reaction.
You let out a jagged breath, the air leaving your lungs a bit unevenly as you try to steady yourself.
With a nod, you exit the car and walk around to open Rosie's door. "Such a gentlewoman." She says, garnering a genuine smile from you. Her playful tone calms you, and you peck her lips in a sweet kiss.
"Come on, let's go inside."
At your words, she slips her hand into yours and the two of you begin your journey towards the house.
The rest of the day goes by better than you had ever imagined possible: Rosé joined conversations easily, and she offered plenty of comfort to everyone in need of it. Her presence is enough to lessen anyone's pain, but she truly showed her skills today.
Towards the end of the celebration, your ex's parents pulled you away from everyone else and into the hallway for a private word.
"We want you to come visit her, with us."
Your first instinct is to adamantly refuse, but the looks on their faces are enough to give you pause. No amount of time can make up for the loss they've had to endure, and you know they wouldn't have asked unless they really needed you there.
"Okay, we'll be there."
They pull you in for a hug, and Rosé tears up at the emotional moment. She sends you an understanding look once you eventually meet her gaze from across the room, and you give her a sad smile in return.
----
The Visit
"Hey, baby; it's us again. Everybody came by earlier and it was so nice."
"You would've loved it, baby girl. We all miss you so much."
They hold each other close as they take turns speaking to her, their voices a little stronger than you remember them being last year. Slowly but surely, they're learning to adjust to life without their daughter.
You turn your head to the side, burying your face in Rosé's hair to distract yourself from the sadness creeping in. You hadn't come back to the cemetery since her funeral, so even just standing there causes the memories to come flooding back. Rosie's grip on you is strong, and you thank her for that; without her you'd surely be a wreck by now.
A few minutes later, her parents step to the side and look over to you in a wordless request for you to say something.
"Hey, champ." You crouch down next to her tombstone, missing the way her parents smile at the old nickname you used to call each other.
"It's me. I hope you're happy up there… you deserve to be. You'd better save us some good seats." You tease, reaching up to dust some dirt off of the sleek surface of stone. The material is beginning to become rougher, you note to yourself.
"Thank you for taking such good care of Y/N. I owe you the world." Rosie smiles bittersweetly, resting her hand on your shoulder as she looks down at the picture on the tombstone.
Something -- some unmistakable force, a gut feeling -- tells you to look up. You listen to it, slowly raising your head until you can see the expanse of the cemetery in front of you. The evening sun is giving way to a breathtaking sunset, and the remaining golden rays filter in through the leaves of the tall trees overhead. A flash of brown hair catches your eye, and you almost gasp at what you see.
There she is.
Your ex -- well, more specifically, the ghost of her -- stands amidst the tree line that borders the property. She raises a hand up to wave at you, offering a peaceful smile as she glances between Rosie and you. You smile your own lopsided grin at her, and soon after, she fades away completely.
Inconspicuously, you look up at her parents. They have a knowing look on their face as you stand up and loop an arm around Rosé's waist, pulling her in close to rest your forehead against hers. She kisses your cheek before using her finger to poke the soft surface adorably.
"Ya know," her father starts, pulling your attention away from your girlfriend.
"She visits us too, sometimes." He finishes with a smile.
A content feeling settles within your chest at his words, and you let out a soft sigh.
She always was a sucker for happy endings.
#rosé#roseanne park#park chaeyoung#blackpink#blackpink x reader#blackpink x fem reader#blackpink angst#blackpink fluff#blackpink oneshots#blackpink imagines#blackpink scenarios#rosé x fem reader#rosé x reader#rosé imagine#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop girl group#let-them-read-fics#happy ending#ghostin'#ariana grande
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Follower Recs
Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.
~*~
Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good
[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!
I would wait for a thousand years
by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)
Summary: During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.
“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”
“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”
“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”
~*~
I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too! [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]
every love story is a ghost story
by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)
Summary: The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?
Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.
“You’re a spirit.”
The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”
(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)
~*~
Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.
see you yesterday
by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)
Summary:
Wei Ying 21:09
hey lan zhan
what’s the weirdest way youve died
Lan Zhan 21:11
Falling encyclopedias.
Wei Ying 21:12
omg
no way
that’s so rude
turning books against you???
Lan Zhan 21:13
A betrayal I will never forget.
On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.
~*~
If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt
Just as the Snow Melts
by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)
Summary: Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.
“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.
“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”
~*~
Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree [Oh! I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]
Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation
by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)
Summary: The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).
or
in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3
~*~
Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]
in cupped hands
by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)
Summary: Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.
Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX).
Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL)
Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids)
Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX)
Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles)
Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids)
Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY)
Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX)
Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC)
Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX)
Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)
Departure in Autumn
by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)
Summary: Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.
Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again.
Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to.
Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away.
Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.
~*~
Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh! This one’s in my To Read list, but I’d forgotten about it. Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]
Ten miles of Lotus Flowers
by Yukirin_Snow
M, 274k, wangxian
Summary: He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.
He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.
Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.
~*~
I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)
But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]
Bestseller
by pupeez4eva
M, 8k, wangxian
Summary: He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.
Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.
(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).
~*~
I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead
It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it
on your marks, get set, bake!
by BlackWiresOnHerHead
G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors
Summary: Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.
“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.
“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”
--
Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.
~*~
If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?
My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio
by x_los
T, 2k, wangxian
Summary: Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.
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Parabatai bond Essay... Why they may all be destined to end
Parabatai: defined by Cassandra Clare as a rare intense where a pare of warriors connect/bond in childhood and then decide to knit their souls together so that they can always stay together and always carry a piece of the other inside them. Defined by the fandom as “ a type of (supposedly) platonic marriage”. Cassandra Clare also wants to claim it as a type of bond that is unique to the shadow world, but honestly I can name several pair of Parabatai all across different media’s. Just looking at early 2000′s children's anime and Disney esqu movies we have Ash/Pikachu, Yugi Muto/the Pharaoh, Hiccup/Toothless, Woody/Buzz, etc...
... If you share my taste in these media’s you probably noticed that of the 4 other series “Parabatai” I listed 3 out of 4 (Ash and Pikachu are still partners right?) have to split off from the other due to changes of destiny/life. This is also the case for man,y many parabatai in The Shadowhunter Chronicles. Sounding off pairs that are important enough for me to care about underneath
Jonathan Shadowhunter/David the Silent: Let’s began at the beginning. Jonathan Shadowhunter was the first ever Shadowhunter. His favorite person in the world was his companion David, who wasn’t as much of a fighter as Jonathan but was very smart and very good at keeping Jonathan grounded when necessary. After being traumatized by a greater demon when fighting alone one da, David gave up fighting (and speaking), and became the first ever silent brother. The story said this broke their bond and broke Jonathan down to tears. I am sure David still loved him though. David could have chosen to go back to being a mundane but instead chose to undergo the rituals to turn himself into a silent brother. David was never that into fighting/war. Everything he did he did out of love for Johnathan. When David was no longer able to be there for Jonathan as a solider, he found a new way as a Silent Brother.
Robert Lightwood/ Michael Wayland: Parabatai and joined at the hip as teenagers. When Michael confessed to having romantic feelings towards Robert confusion as to his own feelings and fears surrounded by change drove Robert to reject Michael in a cruel and harsh way. Their bond is officially severed after the uprising when Michael die,s and Robert is exiled. Decades later Robert still regards hurting Michael as the biggest mistake in his life, the persist moment when he lost faith in himself. It is only after he confesses to his oldest child what he did and how it still haunts him all these years, only after he is finally able to acknowledge within himself the importance of the memories he has of Michael, that Robert is able to finally turn his life around for the better.
Valentine Morgenstern/ Lucian Greymark: Parabatai while studying at the academy, and for a few years afterwards. When Luke started to doubt Valentine’s plans, Valentine took him to be ambushed by a pack of feral werewolves hoping Luke would be killed instead Luke was turned. After this Valentine and Luke became bitter enemy's. These two men who once had so much love for the other, now swore to destroy any plan the other had and would fight with the intent to kill upon seeing he other. Despite all this bad blood, both still loved the memories of who the other used to be, and it is implied that a lot of their hatred for who the other is now is born from grief over they Parabatai they lost.
William Herondale/James Carstairs: CC’s closest Parabatai pair. Both Will and Jem had their whole lives shattered by demons when they were just children, and afterwards questioned at times if it was still really had much of a reason to carry on. Then they met each other and decided that they had to carry on because they loved the other to much to leave them alone. These two are in a way echo’s of Jonathan and David, and like David Jem joins the brotherhood when it is no longer possible for him to stay with Will and Tessa as a shadowhunter. They lose the bonds, but keep their love for each other. Will calls silent city on a daily basis with some excuse for needing Brother Zachariah, and Jem faithfully answers every call.
Julian Backthorn/Emma Carstairs: Fall in love, turn into Giant “true Shadowhunters”. Their bond is severed when their runes are burned off by heavenly fire coursing though their veins. By this time though their relationship had already changed from a platonic one to a romantic one.
James Herondale/ Matthew Fairchild: The two that unquestionably love each other, but do not always love the others choices. As Parabatai they try to reach out to the other and help them. But both boys deal with so much and have trouble recognizing/excepting help when it when offered. Matthew is more aware of James issues than James is of Mathews, All though by the end of Chain of Iron even Matthew is at lose to understand James. James for his part only just starts to realize how sick Matthew may be. There are a lot of theories floating around that Matthew may being to sick to function as/ protect himself as a shadowhunter. With so much to recover from will their Parabatai bond last, or are they destined to seperate?
Cordelia Carstairs/ Lucie Herondale: The will they-won’t they pair. They have planed o one day become Parabatai since they were little girls, but have never gotten around to it. They are both nearly adults now and the story already seems to be puling them in opposite direction, so a lot of people now doubt that they will even make it to the ceremony.
Jace Herondale/ Alexander Lightwood: CC’ first pair of Parabatai, and so far the only pair to keep their bond for the whole series. Like seriously even when Jace died, he came back with the bond intact and Alec reporting that he only felt a little off for a few minutes. CC’s newest reasoning behind that is that there is apparently a delay time between one parabatai dying and the bond severing, and Jace came back before his and Alec’s had time to do more than fray at the edges. So that means that our boys stayed tethered together even when Jace was on his way to the afterlife. WOW (keep this reason CC, it actually kinda works). Jace and Alec’s bond has lasted the longest, but we still have 4 more books where something bad can happen to one of them, and they are now fighting in 2 wars at once.
Clary Fairchild/ SImon Lovelace: became Parabatai in between series, after both failing as a couple, and Simon going through multiple species changes. They are still parabatai in the most recent book but, like with Jace and Alec, we still have 4 future books that could change in. Clary, Jace, and Simon are CC’s three original main characters. She claims that the plan is to wrap up the Shadowhunter Chronicles for good in The Wicked Powers. What is the likelihood that she will leave all three of her original mains alive. I mean Clary already had a vision where “a version of herself” died, and Simon was originally supposed to die in COHF, but CC’s friends begged her to let him live.
While CC claims that Parabatai are rare in her universe, what seems to actually be rare is Parabatai staying bonded throughout the pairs lives. Why is that? Well lets remember that one of the rules for Parabatai is that they must meet and be bonded during childhood, Once they become adults they are no longer eligible. A fact of growing up is that lives and people change: We make friends, we love our friends,are there for them while we can be, and yet sometimes as we grow friends part ways. People die, they move away, or just grow apart. Memories of old friends and places we all used to hang out become beloved memories of being younger. During a time in our lives when we felt more innocent and care free. A time that sadly never lasts. In conclusion to why parabatai bonds tend to break parabatai could represent the close bonds of childhood, the friends who helped you grow into an adult, and some one who you are able to treasure your memories of as an adult, even if, due to circumstance, you no longer see that person as much or at all. Value your parabatai because you don’t know how long you will actually have them
#the shadowhunter chronicles#TSC#TMI#TID#TDA#TEC#TLH#Parabatai#Parabatai bonds#Johnathan Shadowhunter#David the Silent#Robert LIghtwood#Michael wayland#valentine morgenstern#lucian graymark#Luke Garroway#Alec lightwood#ALexander Lightwood#Jace Herondale#Jace Lightwood Herondale#Jace wayand#JACE HAS TOO MANY LAST NAMES#Clary Fairchild#Clary Fray#Simon Lewis#simon lovelace#James Herondale#Matthew Fairchild#Codelia Carstairs#Lucie HErondale
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My thought on chap 139 and SNK.
It couldn’t end otherwise. And it is the perfect ending. When I read it a few hours ago, I was truly amazing by its (inter) connexion. I could talk for hours. And I’ll go for weeks. But here is my first thoughts.
1) the cycle of hate / you are free ...
Where does all this hate come from? Who started it? No one really know. Some where slaves for no reasons, some were hangmen for many years. Violence and power were ruling everything. And one day a little slave, a little girl looking at pigs caged like her decided to open a door. She was dreaming of freedom. Her head was full of desires : she loves, and she wanted to be loved ... she wanted to count for someone, envious of the happiness of others, she felt in love for a monster. Was it love ? It was for her and she did everything for it, for him. Even after her monster death she stayed there. She stayed despite everything, despite all the suffering Eldiens (her children) were facing.
But her choice created more despair and someday a man with a desire as strong as her own made a move.
Grisha hated so hard the world he was living in. He has suffering so much from his sister’s death that he swore to get freedom by any means necessary. His desire was so strong that without knowing it, he put a death sentence upon his two son’s head
« You’re free » ... that’s what he told to Eren and it was the last time his new born son was free indeed
By saying it, Eren has been charged with the sin of his father...
He told it to his father
ZeKe was right and wrong. Eren wasn’t brainwashed, he became the incarnation of a desire, the victim of something bigger than him as soon as he get the founder, and his father realized that he was himself a victime of his own desire.
Inside of the path past and future coexists. How hard it must have been for Grisha to see it with any power to change it. I can’t help but think about his own father ... maybe it’s a duty of a father to crumble down while face your future past sins inside of the eyes of your children.
Still Eren has to keep moving. He has to open the door to the little Eldiens pigs like Ymir did, to become a monster like her cause in doing so maybe she’ll get the answer she never stop looking for : does monster deserve to be love ? What’s the meaning of love ? He also has to keep moving to answer to his father’s desire : freedom for all of us. Keep moving no matter what! Cause Eren was no more a human being, he wasn’t free anymore. He became a tool trap inside the path. Prisoner of Grisha’s love for Freedom, of Ymir’s love for a ghost
2) Mikasa ... the chosen one...
Mikasa’s fate sounds like a curse. Ginger are kissed by fire, Mikasa is kissed by death since her birth. She’s linked to him/it since the beginning. And by him I mean Eren. In lost girl, the faceless man said that no matter what Eren would die. In Snk it feels odd to see a little boy knowing exactly how to find her, saying her name while it wasn’t mentioned before (cf Mikasa memories in SNK S04/S01). All along it feels off to hear him shout out « I’ll wrap it again and again for ever » as if he had done it before, done it a million time at once. A shout out from the path.
It was a cry from a man who is a prisoner and can only dream of some place elsewhere.
But because she was in love with a cursed monster, and because he was cursed to be the monster loved and in love, she would’ve to be the one facing Ymir’s trial.
Most readers would have failed. I have seen so many of them lost faith after the infamous « I hate slave », I saw them bashing all over, no one but her stayed.
Now we know. Did eren wanted it ? Nope. But he has to do it. Cause he’s just a toy, moving on purpose. Crying for reasons, dreaming for their home. The one that was ripped from them since the beginning of their life by others desire.
5) Ymir’s desire ?
She wanted to know and she did known. Despite everything, a monster could still remains a human being and despite everything someone can still love him.
There is another lesson hidden. A lesson she has to learn. To love someone, to truly love someone is being capable to let him go even if it means being lonely, and being sad. Ymir refused death. She created Titans for her people to help them to meet again inside their path. But by doing so they became monsters. Halu gave her power to transcend death, to evolve, but this is not what living means. And only Ackerman remember what was that meaning.
But the price ... lord Ymir goes ... but now Mikasa is the one sitting under the tree 2000 years after looking at those little Eldiens pigs who are now free. And the monster who had made too bad things despite all his good heart will be sentenced to pay his debts : he will look forever at his home, haunted the woman he loves the most but never will he reach his desire burning by those of others.
It remains me a story of a mermaid from the north of Europe.
The story starts talking about a woman in love with a fisherman. Everytime he went out, before vanished he used to ask her to wait for him by the pier. And she did it. But came a trip when she waited for him months with no sign of him. Slowly she came to an understanding of his death. So out of despair she cursed the sea « my husband is dead, you take it from me bring me back my love. I’d do anything ». The night after , a old man arrived and talked to her about a way to get him back at the full moon. She was so happy that she thanked him and forgot to ask him more. She only did as he said. « Enter into the sea and pray... ». She hasn’t to wait long before the boat and her fisherman went back. And as soon as he walked on earth He started looking for her everywhere; yelling her name out loud. Every time she answered « I’m here » but when she tried to grabbed him she failed. She cried, why she kept asking. Then , the old man appears and told her that that was the price : a life for a life. She will see him as long as she will stay as a mermaid, but as soon as she will put a foot on the sand he will die. So she spent the rest of her life looking at her fisherman waiting for her by the pier crying to see her one last time, cursing the sea ... she was hoping a life for him, for them... did she succeed ? Was there a chance ?
#eren x mikasa#eremika#attack on titan#mikasa ackerman#shingeki no kyojin#shingeki no kyojin mikasa#snk#snk eren#aot#snk thoughts#snk 139
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eupnea (Ezra x Reader)
Warnings: Just sickeningly sweet fluff, no plot. Kissing.
Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader
Word Count: 1,902
Request: once upon a time @goldafterglow sent me an ask that just said “Hi the only! thing! I can think about right now is nuzzling Ezra’s tummy and making him giggle because he is a sweet good boy with a soft tum and he deSeRVES IT PLS SOMEONE NUZZLE HIS TUM OR I’LL RIOT” and I took it and ran with it, in a completely different direction.
A/N: Ok so there is tummy nuzzling in this but it’s not the main feature of the fic, but I did fit it in. Hands up if you would also really like to be nuzzling Ezra’s soft little tum right now.
Like a moth to the flame, unable to resist his radiance, you were drawn to Ezra from the very beginning.
When you had met, you working mechanics for a contract while he was there to dig, you didn’t really believe in love. Certainly not love at first sight, true love, soulmates. None of those old fairy tales your mother told you growing up. You hadn’t felt it before, never needed anyone in that way.
But then there was Ezra and you felt struck by lightning.
Even when he put on a show to the others of being the intimidating vagrant fringeling only looking to make credit, you saw straight through it. He was more, had so much to him. His presence thrilled you, made your blood pump like molten liquid through your veins, you knew you would never be able to get enough.
And oh, Ezra was resplendent. When he smiled it warmed every cold part of your being, his laugh lighting up the bleak constant dark of the planet you were stationed on. Beautiful too. Like none before him, there was no hope for you. From those shining, wide eyes to his striking nose, the unusual patch of blonde at the front of his soft head of hair to the small silvered scar below one eye. You never wanted to look upon another face again.
He felt it too. Desperate with it, seeking you out at each opportunity. Spending hours in your tent just talking, him with that sticky sweet voice and words spilling from him like honey from the jar. You swapped stories of life on the fringe and futures you could barely let yourself imagine. Quickly overcome with longing - lingering gazes and grazing hands, hiding away together with your fingers interlaced and your hearts becoming ever more entangled.
And yes he admit to you he had a past, and he was certainly not faultless, but you understood that beyond anything else he was a man with true heart. Genuine and kind where it mattered despite everything, despite the pain you saw in him that he tried so hard to hide. Despite growing up in a world so unforgiving, where he had quickly learnt to be cunning and devious to survive. He hadn’t let his lot in life completely determine his humanity.
You loved him more with every new part of himself that he revealed to you.
With Ezra, it was immediately like all the little pieces of life's puzzle were put together. It all made sense. Everything. It was the most powerful thing you had ever experienced. You both knew, from the very beginning, this thing between you was life-changing. Nothing would pull you apart.
***
After that contract had ended you decided to stay together, impossible to part when you dreamt only of each other.
And now in what feels like a different lifetime, you are settled. A particularly fortuitous dig with enough successfully mined aurelac to fill several cases and only one barely escaped ambush had left you both with enough credits that you could actually find a home, a comfortable cabin tucked away in beautiful unspoilt forest, this place is for the two of you and no one else. Having somewhere the two of you could call home felt like the most beautiful luxury you could imagine.
To begin with you had been concerned that Ezra would regret his decision, you understood his need to rest a while now that he could - you were both so weary, had both been through so much in this life. But he was so accustomed to being constantly on the move, not staying in the same place for long enough to call it home. Part of you fearing he would come to resent you for tying him down to this place, this quiet life, you.
The look on his face now though tells you clearly that he is perfectly content.
You rest together on the plush, comfortable couch – your head in his lap as he absent-mindedly brushes his fingers against your jaw with a lazy smile. He glows; rested and nourished, well fed and well loved, and your heart swells with pride to know that is your doing – that you had in hand in renewing a tired spirit. A slow tune drifts through the air from the crackly old speakers on the opposite side of the room, and you close your eyes as you sing along in a happy daze.
“My beautiful little songbird” he chuckles as the music fades out leaving you singing on your own, and when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with the kind of adoration that takes your breath away each time. He loves you so deeply, so fierce and yet gently. Even after years he holds you like you are something more brilliant than any gem he ever pulled from the ground.
“You’re the beautiful one” you murmur, reaching up to stroke a hand against his cheek, tracing gently over the small silvery scar, “I’m just here to provide some music”.
“And you certainly do that, such sweet music. But I see we’re at an impasse, birdie, because I cannot accept such a title while you’re here making all the goddesses envious”
“Hush,” you grin, “let me have this. Don’t I deserve to see my love smile so bright as I tell him he’s more brilliant than every star in the night sky?”
He laughs turning slightly bashful at your words but it’s there, the beautiful curve of his plush lips to grace you with that genuine smile. You do adore seeing him like that, to make him know how much you adore him and see him lose his words because of it. There was a time before when he didn’t take compliments so well and you had to convince him that each loving word was true, those days when he was haunted by his past ventures and the loss of his limb. And it had hurt to see him struggle like that, watch him so slowly come to terms with it.
Ezra starts to say something in return, something you’re sure will be nothing short of poetry meant to flatter you, but interrupts himself with a wide yawn, his torso stretching up with it and causing the grey fabric of his shirt to ride up slightly. The movement reveals the gentle swell of soft golden skin that you are so fond of, that you have often laid your head on as you talked for hours, and that now is another sign of the good life you’re finally living together. You move and hand to where the fabric has ridden up, just resting it there for a moment as he returns to himself to look down at you with that dopey, lazy, happiness written all over his face.
“I love you so much” you stutter, taken by the way he looks framed by the orange glow of setting sun through the window.
“Every bit of you, more than I could ever say” you sigh, moving your head to nuzzle your cheek against his stomach then turn to kiss it, a light giggle floating down to you, “I’m so grateful that my star brought me to you”.
“Your star?” Ezra asks, you hum a yes against his skin then kiss again. His hand lies at the side of your neck, pleasent stroke of his thumb against you.
“Didn’t I tell you the story? The soul star?”
“I can recall every story you’ve ever shared with me, songbird. I can conjure up where we were and exactly how you told it at any given moment. This one is new to me and I would be delighted to hear you tell it, please” he answers, excitement wavering in his tone, he always loves to listen to you.
“Ok, I’ll tell it.” you chuckle, brushing against his belly with your cheek again, feeling him relax further in to the couch as you do.
“It was one of those romantic old wives tales my mother used to share. I never believed it, couldn’t understand it until we met”, you punctuate your words with another tender press of your lips to his skin. “She told me every one of us has a star, our own incredible bright light that watches over us, up in the distance keeping an eye on us. She said our star knows what we need and when we need it, and when it comes to the right time the star will call out to us. If we answer the call and follow where it leads, it will take us to the place our soul belongs”
He hums softly, letting you continue as his hand comes to cover yours that lays on him.
“It was told often, and I always laughed it off. I didn’t feel I belonged anywhere, you know that. But then there was the job, the one on Triada Five,” Ezra squeezes your hand at this, the job you had met on “I didn’t want to take it, it was long and the ship was a rust-bucket that looked like it wouldn’t make it half way there. I was about to turn it down, figured I could make the same credits fixing ships on the Pug, but something...something stopped me. It was like a tiny voice whispering in my ear, comforting and kind, told me that if I took the job I would find everything I needed. And I didn’t even doubt it, didn’t question it at all.”
“It was your star” Ezra mutters, intrigued, absolutely taken in by your story.
You nod, skin soft against his where your head rests, before moving to sit up and placing yourself in his lap. You can feel the pooling of tears in your eyes, you had never let yourself believe it entirely but hearing him say it overwhelms you. If you hadn’t taken that job, who knows if your paths would ever have crossed. Whether it was your soul star, or fate, or pure dumb luck you don’t know but you are grateful of whatever force was in play then.
“I suppose it was my star. I think it called out, and led me to you, Ezra. And I think here-” you place a hand on his chest, over his heart, “is where I belong. With you”
You feel a tear trickle from the corner of your eye, Ezra quickly catching it and wiping it away before he pushes forwards to kiss your lips.
“I think you’re correct, birdie. And it’s dawning on me that I felt it too, long ago” he reveals, arm coming around your middle to pull you closer, “I was lead through galaxies to you. You are my reason for everything”
And then he’s kissing you again; deep and never-ending, just you and him and the peaceful chorus of rustling trees in the forest around the cabin.
You remain like that for a long while, bodies pressed together, mouths open in quiet adoration of the other. The sun leaving the sky as you find yourselves through each other again and again. When he finally pulls away, you are breathless and bursting full of pure affection.
“Come on, songbird,” Ezra says as you chase his lips for once more kiss “Let’s wander down to the lake. The stars are out and I believe we owe them our gratitude”
Permanent tag list:
@youhavereachedtheendofpie @princessbatears @catfishingmorales @hdlynn @fleetwoodmactshirt @chews-erotically @keeper0fthestars @marydjarin @readsalot73 @a-seeker-of-imagination @agentpike @heatherbel @din-damn-djarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @mstgsmy @sin-djarin @huliabitch @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @phoenixhalliwell @dindjar-n @softpedropascal @millllenniawrites @blancatobarxoxo @cyaredindjarin @goblinqueen95 @knittingqueen13 @teaofpeach @agirllovespancakes @insomniamamma
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@pedropascallion @justanotherblonde23
#ezra x reader#ezra prospect x reader#prospect#pedro pascal#fic#one-shot#fluff#this is really boring literally nothing happens I'm so sorry
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Stephen’s indelible sin
For those who follow me for a while, you’re probably aware that I speak of guilt and self-loathing A LOT when it comes to Stephen. Once I wrote about his most terrible sin, but since then, I’ve gathered MORE information concerning Stephen and Hulk’s relationship. And, on a personal level, I think both fans and writers should explore this bond more, given their history.
Today, I’ll bring a detailed review on Stephen’s mistake and how it escalated into a pain that will never cease to exist within his heart and soul.
Warning: get your handkerchiefs ready, this is about to become sad quite rapidly.
We’ll begin our journey of angst in 1967, as seen in Strange Tales #156-157. In order to prevent Umar from walking on Earth, the Ancient One advises Stephen to release an evil and powerful demon called Zom. The demon is able to defeat Umar, but his strength is overwhelming, enough to give the Ancient One a hard time. Zom’s power is so evil and cursed that releasing him is a deed that catches the Living Tribunal’s (undue) attention. The Living Tribunal is so offended he wants to destroy Earth. And guess what? He blames Stephen, even though he was a mere apprentice imbued with blind obedience at that time.
The Living Tribunal imprisons Zom again, while Stephen convinces the deity that Earth deserves another chance. Stephen basically saves the planet, as usual, while Zom remains dormant for literally decades.
We’ll skip now to a not-so-canon event called “the birth of the Illuminati”, or “how Stephen ruined his life for good out of arrogance and toxic masculinity”. It’s uncertain when they first gathered to boss around the planet, but according to History Of The Marvel Universe #3 (2019) and New Avengers: Illuminati #1 (2007), they made this decision after the Kree/Skrull War, creating a secret council to answer for all humanity, even though humanity itself wasn’t aware of those dubious representatives. The Kree/Skrull war dates back to 1971, which means they spent decades plotting their hidden agendas.
Still, they’re heroes, right? They wouldn’t harm people, would they? They wouldn’t harm their friends or make mistakes. They’re supposed to be the smartest, most powerful people on Earth. Oh. Let me tell you something. Their very first mission was the reason why we had Civil War and Secret Invasion. Yes. It’s their fault that the Skrulls invaded Earth. And yes, Stephen is to blame because he was there with the group when they first threatned the Skrulls never to come back, or else they’d face them. Hah.
However, this is not his indelible sin. As you all know, what I consider an irreparable mistake was sending Hulk to Sakaar. And what’s even worse? It wasn’t the first time that Stephen tried to banish Hulk, as seen in The Incredible Hulk v1 #305 (1985).
But why is Stephen so haunted by banishing a menace? Because Hulk was, foremost, a dearest friend.
From Defenders v1 #12 (1973)
When it comes to Hulk’s friendships, people always think of Rick Jones, Amadeus Cho, even his cousin Jennifer Walters. But few people remember that Stephen and Valkyrie were two of the first heroes to treat Hulk kindly and with respect, even though Hulk always called Stephen names (the most iconic, “dumb magician”, which is a personal favorite of mine).
Stephen has always treated Hulk as an equal, as someone who is so much more than a mindless brute. So it’s really strange for me to read that, at some point, Stephen tried to banish him twice.
Sadly, it happened. The first was not as iconic as the second, though. So I’m focusing on the latter. Remember the Illuminati? The group thought they had the right to decide Hulk’s fate after he went berserk and destroyed Las Vegas. And Stephen agreed to it. Namor, who was also a member of the Defenders along with Stephen and Hulk, was the only one who refused, as seen in New Avengers: Illuminati One-Shot (2006). The three of them were the original members. Stephen should’ve known better. So why would he agree to this?
Because, again, the Illuminati are a very dubious group whose foundations are based on toxic masculinity. Powerful, egoic men left unchecked. And Stephen, as Earth’s most powerful sorcerer, couldn’t resist the call. The Ancient One was dead. The mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme was his. Clea left him years later - and he never told her about his dirty little secret, something that is subtly confirmed somewhere between New Avengers: Illuminati #4 (2007) and Avengers v4 #9 (2011).
Thus, it seems that Stephen, at some point, decided that he was better than everyone around him, a trait that was supposed to be buried in the past along with his arrogant neurosurgeon self. The kind man who has always praised his allies was now gone.
Except... World War Hulk happened. Long story short, Hulk ended up in Sakaar and found a new life after defeating his captor. He married and became king, and he was happy (you can get a very shady glimpse of this story in MCU’s Thor: Ragnarok, but that version is quite family friendly. World War Hulk is far worse). But then, the ship which the Illuminati created to send him into space exploded, killing his wife in the process. Spoiler: it wasn’t the Illuminati. It was Miek, who framed the Illuminati so Hulk would call revenge upon them. Enraged as never seen before, Hulk was truly decided to kill Reed, Tony, Black Bolt and... yes, Stephen.
At first, Stephen tried to reason with him. But Hulk’s hatred was beyond words. Stephen had all his fingers broken, ouch. Imagine his pain, assuming his hands were once injured in the car accident and still hurt from the damage and all the surgeries he has been through...
Now, as you know, Stephen is stubborn as hell. Remember the demon Zom? When everything else failed to stop the Hulk, Stephen finally corrupted his soul and let the demon possess him. Obviously, he lost control and almost harmed innocent people, which was enough for him to be distracted long enough for Hulk to finish him off.
In the end, Hulk discovered the truth behind the explosion and, after a rage outburst, transformed back to Banner. Stephen almost died that day by the hands of his friend. But he didn’t. All that was left from that sad event was guilt. Endless, heavy guilt.
One could arguee that Stephen is out of character. And I would’ve agreed with you, except... Nor time nor actions were good enough to heal Stephen’s heart. It never went away. Never.
The reason why he forfeited the mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme? Because he used Zom’s dark magic and hurt Bruce deeply. And that affected him on so many levels that he didn’t find himself worthy anymore.
From New Avengers v1 Annual #2 (2008).
It didn’t stop there. He tried time and time again. He was never able to find the proper words to apologize because he knows words will never heal the pain he inflicted on his friend.
These thoughts are Stephen’s. “Two words I’ll repeat for the rest of my days. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” (From Incredible Hulks #618)
And poor Stephen even goes and tries to compensate his lack of expertise when it comes to interpersonal relationships, projecting his relationship with Hulk into, well, another Hulk. He’s so afraid of making the same mistakes he doesn’t even know where the line is drawn.
From Weapon H #2 (2018).
As I said, it will never go away. And Stephen knows it.
From Defenders v4 #1 (2011).
The point is, people make mistakes. And sometimes these mistakes are just too painful to be erased. Stephen strongly believes he’ll never be forgiven, which is quite sad because this sin will always be a source of guilt for him. Whether or not Hulk forgives Stephen in the future, it will always remain a burden.
Personally, I believe that blaming himself for what happened to Hulk is even worse than blaming himself for Clea’s departure. Because, see, Clea has forgiven Stephen over the years. They still love each other and, once you ignore Fearless Defenders, there’s no sin. They both agreed to take separate ways, even though their love still existed.
But Hulk? It’s a story about betrayal between friends. It’s quite cruel and sad for both sides. I can only hope that, someday, a writer will make it up for them. They deserve another chance. And, as unreliable as I am, all I want to see is a happy Stephen.
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Chapter 1 : Out of Time
SUMMARY
Your first week back at university is nearly over and you’ve been dying to go on a date with your boyfriend Ushijima. And it’s not just ANY date, you are celebrating your final year of school together! However, the evening doesn’t really go as planned…
pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader /iwaizumi x f!reader
genre : angst + fluff
word count : 1,478
tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn
a/n : first time writing fanfiction, I haven’t done any creative writing in a while. I feel like I changed this story so many times but I finally got it down. Please don’t drag me, I am learning!!
masterlist
ch. 1 | next >>
You thought when bad things happened, time slowed down, but it actually felt fast. Almost too fast. Everything seemed to happen in a single second, as you heard those four words, as you waited for the clock to rewind, and as you realized that the love you once had was no longer reciprocated.
--- 3 hours before ---
The anticipation of the weekend just moments away ticks in the background as you’re seated at a desk near the back of the classroom.
Today’s the last day of your first week back at university. Returning back to classes after a short break really put into perspective how much more work you were going to have to put in for your final year. But you were quite fortunate that you only needed to complete a couple more classes to graduate.
You squint at your professor straining your hearing to focus on every word he spoke, but your concentration continues to shift to your thoughts after class.
An evening that’s been planned for months.
To go out for a romantic dinner with your boyfriend Ushijima Wakatoshi, and drink expensive sake while toasting to a bright future together. You have been dating for a year now and the sentiment causes you to feel completely entranced in tonight's endeavors.
As you attempt to regain your focus, you feel a nudge on your arm making the hairs stand on the back of your neck. You turn to your seat-mate who takes the pen from your hand that you’ve been subconsciously fiddling with.
“Tōru!” you whisper, reaching to grab your pen back.
But Oikawa makes sure it's out of your grasp and places it behind his ear opposite from you.
Your eyebrow twitches as Oikawa radiates with a shit-eating grin. You hate it when he makes that face. And that’s when you realize that his actions are intended to be the sole purpose of irritating you, perhaps partially due to the fact getting a reaction out of you was so easy.
Before you cause a scene, you control yourself and let Oikawa get away with stealing your pen. You hear the professor wrap up the remainder of the lesson and begin to pack your things.
Oikawa smiles and focuses on you for a moment. There’s just something about the way you attempt to hide your crossness through the purse of your lips and flush of your cheeks while avoiding eye contact.
As he gathers his belongings, you observe him through your peripheral vision. There was a softness to his appearance, a kind of warmth that reminded you of when you first met.
It’s been almost three years. The two of you met on campus and you’d heard about him from other girls for being exceptionally charming and very attractive. You never quite understood why, but your curiosity grew upon your first impression of Oikawa and the next thing you knew, you were friends.
When the professor gives his final dismissal, you pop out of your seat and reach over to grab your pen. Oikawa’s attempt to stop you is too slow but takes the opportunity to grab your wrist.
You try not to snap and remain calm for fear you’ll give him what he wants, so you pout at his interception trying your best to appear innocent.
Oikawa raises a brow at you as you clutch the pen in your knuckles.
“What’s the magic word…” he coos.
You roll your eyes at his obnoxious tone, “Tōru!”
Oikawa chuckles as he watches you squirm your wrist out of his grip.
Collecting the rest of your things, you quickly regain your composure. To be honest, you couldn’t be bothered with Oikawa’s game, you had to quickly get home to get ready for your date and you already felt you had succumbed to his antics.
Oikawa slings on his backpack and waves to a couple of girls obviously gawking in his direction. You can tell they both undeniably have a crush on him as they continue to linger in the nearly empty classroom. His gesture causes them to blush while squealing out a farewell as they scurry out.
The brief exchange is nothing but the same any day you’re with Oikawa. It’s enough to the point you’re completely immune to it and the dirty looks you get from other girls for being around him.
“Do you want to come grab drinks with me and a friend?” he asks quizzically.
You furrow your brow at his invitation, feeling a bit of disappointment as you’ve been talking his ear off for months about your celebratory dinner with Ushijima.
“Tempting, but I have plans with Wakkan,” you respond.
"Oh, right,” Oikawa fumed.
You can tell he’s displeased as he pouts his lips in petulant annoyance-- Ushijima isn’t someone Oikawa has warmed up to. Often, at times, Oikawa can act quite childish around Ushijima as their personalities don’t necessarily complement each other and it’s been like that since the beginning of your relationship with Ushijima.
However, today you didn’t quite feel in the mood to argue, so instead, you give Oikawa a little nudge with your elbow.
“I’ll come hang out tomorrow, I promise,” you force a smile and hold your breath.
“Fine,” he says, narrowing his eyes, holding you to it.
You exhale deeply, grateful for Oikawa’s acceptance.
------
A knock comes across the silent apartment.
The unexpected noise lingers as you pause from touching up your lashes with a thin coat of mascara. You give your reflection one last anxious glance in the mirror, checking for any flaws. You had to look perfect.
Peeling yourself away from the mirror, you putter to the entrance of your apartment. It was too early for Ushijima to arrive and you weren’t expecting anyone else. But when you open the door, a tall young man stares down at you.
Wakkun!
Casually clothed in a matching hoodie and sweatpants, his rigid complexion radiates stony and daunting. You smile wide--despite his careless appearance--and invite him in.
Ushijima stiffens at your request and shakes his head.
A little helpless, you feel your stomach knot. Something didn’t feel right. His eyes are hard to read, as always, and pierce you with his gaze. But you feel his answer is cold and distant unlike what you are accustomed to.
Then your thoughts start to snowball… Why doesn't he want to come in? Why is he dressed like that? Is he sick? Is he canceling tonight?
“Is everything okay?” You hesitantly ask, putting a pause to your hasty thinking.
“We need to talk,” Ushijima grunts.
It takes you a moment to answer while you let the words sync in.
“W-what!” you stammer, clenching your fists. “I don’t understand--" But you stop yourself when he gives you a look so empty, it’s haunting. The feeling of anguish hangs in your chest, while your throat tightens making it much harder to breathe.
“I think we need to break up,” he utters without skipping a beat.
With those words, time speeds up, almost too fast for you to grasp. Your head starts to spin and in a single second everything is over, but it feels unbelievable as you stare into Ushijima with your adoring eyes. No words can express the aching that courses through you.
Then you shut the door.
Your mind goes blank. As your heart starts to race, you try to make sense of the sudden surprise attack. You could’ve sworn that it wasn’t over and perhaps it was a mistake, that Ushijima will be back. Yet you know it’s real once you stood there with your eyes locking on to the door for what felt like ages. Your entire composure depletes as you lose feeling in your legs and fall to the ground. You want to scream, to open the door and run after him begging to stay. But you can’t. You won’t.
You clench your fists so tightly your knuckles turn white, sending chills of dread down your spine and ounces of tears brim out of the corners of your eyes. You feel overwhelmed with hatred and sadness for being so naive and thinking things can last. Where the fuck did you go wrong? you blame yourself.
Your thoughts are cut when you notice the room got visibly darker, followed by the sound of people giggling and walking outside past your door.
Getting up, you flick on the hallway light illuminating the foyer of your apartment. It’s quiet and disgustingly morbid from the lingering tension of the event that unfolded earlier.
The curtains are wide open for the city lights to bleed in. A sense of loneliness seeps into your skin as you approach the window that overlooks the gritty streets. Taking a deep breath, you swear that tonight will be the only night you let yourself come completely undone.
Little did you know it was going to be a long evening.
#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#ushijima x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x y/n#oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru#oikawa x y/n#haikyu x reader#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff
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If I Never Knew You (End)
Warnings: 18+, honestly this one barely has anything crazy going on it in. It’s the resolve to everything, a little angst,
a/n: I hope you all have enjoyed this little series I wrote up. I had a lot of fun writing it and maybe will do more in the future. Maybe I’ll add onto this and further the story line but as of right now I’m pretty content with the outcome. As always, asks/requests are open! And if you want to be tagged let me know! Have a wonderful day :)
Word count: 1.9K
Loki x female!reader
Eyes fluttering open, it was dark in your room. The moonlight peeking in from underneath the curtains in your bedroom. Sitting up in your bed you reached over into your bedside table and pulled out a box of matches. Grabbing the candle sitting atop your table you lit it to move around your room without tripping over anything. Reaching the door it seemed that everyone had slipped into their own bedrooms for the evening.
Perfect.
Closing your door once more you moved toward your closet and picked out a dress more suitable for the evening. It was blue-gray with thin straps holding the beauty together. The neck had extra fabric that mimicked sleeves and trailed down the front of your chest. Silver embellishments were delicately placed down the bottom of the skirt and pooled at the bottom of your feet when you wore it. Setting the candle back on your nightstand, you shimmied out of the dress Loki so kindly gave to you this morning and put on your new one. Hoping that new clothes would rid you of some of the residual energy of the day.
On the front of your bed was a grey knitted shawl that you made months prior. Finding your pair of silver sandals you tied the straps around your ankle and blew out the candle. Letting your eyes become adjusted to the dark you gently moved the curtain careful to not make any noise when pulling it back. Sticking your head out the window you made sure that the coast was clear still and your father hadn’t come outside for something. Seeing the still night you grabbed your shawl and gingerly slid out your window. Wrapping the shawl around your head you began your possible last walk to the golden tower you were hoping to once be yours.
You had to walk silently but also with a purpose. Judging by where the moon sat in the sky, Loki would still be awake at this hour. Once stepping out of the vicinity that was your home you felt safer to move more quickly. Almost running, you made your way to the garden that Loki found you in the very first time you met. Unknowingly, tears were rolling down your cheeks. The day's events coming back to haunt you and the beautiful memories you shared with Loki come to the forefront as well. It was becoming too much to bear all too quickly.
Slowing down you balanced yourself on your knees and took slow deep breaths. Finally catching your breath, you saw a figure in the distance walking toward the garden. You froze but didn’t want to look too suspicious so you slowly walked into the garden and sat on the marble bench. Turning your back, you faced out toward the water that surrounded Asgard and hoped that the figure you saw walking in the distance would never come. But to your dismay, you heard the ground crunching behind you. Shuddering you hoped they would just walk on by leaving you to be alone.
“Are you alright?”
It was Loki. What was he doing out?
You were surprised nonetheless but also extremely relieved.
“Loki? What are you-”
You cut yourself, your emotions bubbling up in your throat. A knot formed and you were trying your best not to let tears spill over but Loki’s presence broke the dam you desperately tried to keep together.
“Y/N, what’s the matter? Why are out here running across the ground and alone?”
Loki finally made his way to face you head-on and upon placing his finger under your chin he saw the remnants of the tears staining your cheeks.
“Who hurt you? Did something happen at home?”
“Y-yes, but I just...I’m beyond overwhelmed and seeing you just kinda pushed me over my limit. My apologies.”
“Darling, look at me.”
Placing his hands on either side of your shoulders, he took one hand and wiped another hot tear streaking down your face.
“If you don’t tell me what’s happened I can’t begin to help you through anything. So, walk me through it. We’ve got all night.”
He smirked at you. Trying to make light of the situation, something he’s always had a knack for. Sighing, you let out a choked laugh finding the strength within you to speak to Loki about everything.
“Well, I told my parents. And my mother was surprisingly accepting of us and the idea of it all-”
“-Which is good! So why the crying?”
“Well if you let me finish...My father is the one who gave me a hard time. And to top it off, they had a suitor in there at the dining table to meet me. So on top of him completely disregarding my happiness and what my life means to me, some poor bastard had to hear it all firsthand. It was just wildly embarrassing.”
“So...we have one out of two blessings. Well, that's better than nothing.”
“Yes but Loki I’m not even supposed to be here right now. My father at the top of his lungs said that I’m not to see you again until his mind is made.”
Loki’s hands traveled down your arms and rested on top of your hands.
“Did you tell him about, well you know..”
“Yes and I think that is our only saving grace right now. Without that, I don’t think he would’ve even considered a second thought.”
You sighed, buried rage now coming to the forefront
“And the way he spoke about you, he wouldn’t even let me defend you or explain myself. Just continuously cut me off. Gods! If only he knew. If only he cared to know the love and passion we share with one another. But I’ve never had the luxury of him truly listening to me. Always been the afterthought and he doesn’t understand that with you, you’ve always made me feel centered. Never off balance and you’ve given all and more I could ever ask for in a partner. Loki I just can’t bear to lose you. I just can’t.”
“Come. Stand up Y/N.”
Loki held your hands tightly as if to tell you there was no way he was letting go. Reluctantly, you stood from the bench and trailed behind Loki. He led you to the ledge of the garden, getting a better look out at what was Asgard. The moonlight painting both of you beautifully and the roses framing your body eloquently.
“Look out at the sky. What do you see Y/N?”
“The stars, the moon shining bright, and freedom for lack of a better term.”
“And what stands out to you the most?”
“The stars. The way the shine in tandem with the moon. It makes for a beautiful image that I don’t think I could forget.”
Tapping on the back of your hand, you turned to face Loki
“The stars cannot exist without the moon my love, the same way our love cannot exist without one another.”
You knew his words meant well but you couldn’t help but sniffle at them. It almost felt like a goodbye of some sort.
“Yes, but Loki-”
“-Ah ah. No ‘buts’. Listen to me. Everything that has happened between us I wouldn’t trade for anything. If I never knew you I would have known how precious life can be. If I never knew you I would never have known what unconditional love felt like.”
The tears in your eyes have now since faded, being replaced with unbelievable wonder and complete and utter love. Loki’s eyes held such sincerity that you felt you needed to speak up sooner or you would look like a fool, but he beat you to it.
“In this world that’s full of fear, rage, and lies, you showed me the truth of what life could be. And you showed me it with such luster that I couldn’t imagine anything else. And when I look into your eyes I know you feel the same, so please, Y/N, dry your eyes. None of this would have been possible without your radiant shine and love for life and for that, I am so grateful to you.”
Words failed you but you wanted to let him know that you were still in this till the end. Gazing up at him you looked down and placed your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a tight, unsuspecting hug. Pulling away from him you finally felt that words could be formed and you could properly voice your thoughts. You stood closer to the ledge and looked off into the distance before speaking.
“I thought our love would be so beautiful and somehow make the entirety of Asgard burn with admiration. I never knew that hate and fear could be so strong and leave us in the dust waiting for answers that may never be given.”
Turning around to face him you looked up into his eyes again and his hand rested on your lower back.
“But still my heart is saying we were right and I can’t let that go. I never will. For if I never knew you, I would have never known this love that we’ve created. I found you when I was meant to and I’m forever grateful for the moments we have created.”
“Y/N I want you to know that there is no moment I regret. With you, I have finally learned what it means to live with purpose. While I don’t think our time is gone just yet, with you I have lived at last. There’s no avoiding that. I’d be lost forever if I never knew you.”
A bittersweet smile pressed against your lips and you brought his face down to yours. A kiss that was searing but with affirmation and probity. You felt at home in Loki’s arms and he felt the same. The two of you would be taking this hurdle by storm and ensuring that separation would not be a variable worth considering. Loki pulled away and stepped behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and his head resting atop yours. Rolling it to the side he spoke once more,
“You know this isn’t goodbye right. Just a small bump in the road.”
“I know. Considering my mother was on board it’s only a matter of time, I just want to know for sure when that time will come. My father just makes everything hectic.”
“Buut you have me, and always will. So when you need not only relief but comfort I am here for you darling. He’s not going to lock you up forever, eventually, he’ll tire of ignoring his only daughter and will regret his decisions. Trust me. Just harbor a bit of patience.”
“I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you in my life Loki. Everything seems possible with you.”
Bringing your hands up to rest on his you spoke again,
“I love you, Loki.”
“Y/N, I love you more than you could envision and I will be counting the days until I get to call you my wife. Formally at least. Because principally, you already are.”
The two of you began swaying in each other's arms enjoying the silent company between you two. Within time you wouldn’t be restrained from your lover, but at this moment you wanted to soak it all in. Imagining your life together and what could be. You knew you couldn’t stay out for long, not wanting to risk your father’s temper or your sanity. But while you could enjoy this moment, you made sure to bask entirely in the seraphic ambiance of it all.
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Taglist: @mad4marvelloki @lightmelikeamatch
#loki#loki fanfic#loki imagine#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson fanfic#loki laufeyson imagine#loki laufeyson x reader#marvel fanfic#marvel imagine#marvel x reader
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Bran Stark's Journey
Today I've decided to talk about Bran. He may not be the most beloved character, or the most exciting, but to me at least, he is a very interesting character and his path is very interesting. One revelation the show gave us (that was later confirmed) is that by the end of ASOIAF, he will be King. So today I wanted to talk about his arc, possible paths to kingship, and also about his abilities and what he might be able to do in the future.
Summer to Winter
A large theme in Bran's story is fear. In his first chapter (the first chapter in the entire series, not counting the prologue), Bran asks if a man can be brave when he is afraid, after Jon and Robb argue about the deserter's death, to which ned famously replies "that is the only time a man can be afraid". Later, during his coma dream, he becomes afraid to look down as he falls, crying, until the three eyed crow convinces him to look down at the world below him, and into the heart of winter.
Now you know, the crow whispered as it sat on his shoulder. Now you know why you must live.
"Why?" Bran said, not understanding, falling, falling.
Because winter is coming.
Upon waking from that dream, Bran wakes up and names his wolf Summer. Later, Bran listens to a story about the Long Night from Old Nan, telling her that his favourite stories are the scary ones. The dream has is rich in symbolic visions, but I think the most important take away from both that and the story Old Nan tells him is that Bran will need to overcome fear and take on the monsters and villains of those scary stories to help end the Long Night. His direwolf's name Summer also fits with this.
A literal summer child, Bran has never experienced winter and the horrors that come with it. Soon he begins to live out the stories he was told, traveling beyond the Wall in search of the elusive three eyed crow, dealing with wights along the way. In a way, the story of the last hero does work as foreshadowing for Bran's journey to the far north. When he joins Bloodraven, he is given advice for the future, that once again touches upon the theme of fear.
"Never fear the darkness, Bran." The lord's words were accompanied by a faint rustling of wood and leaf, a slight twisting of his head. "The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother's milk. Darkness will make you strong."
Bloodraven is a man who has a very storied past, acting as Hand to several Targaryen kings, being an effective administrator (although he had some flaws when it came to dealing with the Blackfyres), and eventually rising to the level of Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He sometimes did have to do dark things for the greater good, and he's teaching that same principle to Bran. Of course, going back to the theme of fear, he is also telling Bran to overcome his fear in order to do things that will help the world around him.
That is where we end with Bran as of ADWD, but thanks to both the show and GRRM, we have some idea of what happens with Bran next. One of the more shocking moments in Game of Thrones came in season 6 when it was revealed that Bran caused Hodor's disability in the first place by skinchanging him in the past, thus creating a time loop and sealing his fate as he holds the back door of the cave against the wights so he can escape. For Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon, a book about the production of the TV series by James Hibberd, GRRM expanded on what that meant and how it will play out in TWOW.
"It's an obscenity to go into somebody's mind. So Bran may be responsible for Hodor's simplicity, due to going into his mind so powerfully that it rippled back through time. The explanation of Bran's powers, the whole questions of time and causality - can we affect the past? Is time a river you can only sail one way or an ocean that can be affected wherever you drop into it? These are issues I want to explore in the book, but it's harder to explain in a show."
Martin said the 'hold the door' scene in a forthcoming book will play out a bit differently than in the show. "I thought they executed it very well, but there are going to be differences in the book. They did it very physical - 'hold the door' with Hodor's strength. In the book, Hodor has stolen one of the old swords from the crypt. Bran has been warging into Hodor and practicing with his body, because Bran had been trained in swordplay. So telling Hodor to 'hold the door' is more like 'hold this pass' - defend it when enemies are coming - and Hodor is fighting and killing them. A little different, but same idea."
Varamyr's prologue in ADWD touches upon the various concepts of skinchanging, and how certain acts are considered abominations, including; eating the flesh of a person, mating in the skin of a beast, and entering another person's mind. While I don't necessarily think that Bran will commit the second one, it makes sense for there to be consequences for Bran's disregard for the rules. He may be only a child and not fully understand what is happening around him or how his actions effect his surroundings, but if he is becoming extremely powerful, he needs to learn to use it effectively while not becoming completely ignorant of how his actions effect people.
So, this as a consequence of his breaking of the rules of skinchanging makes perfect sense. What I think this isn't, however, is Bran becoming a villain, or Bran heading down a dark path that he won't come out of. If anything, this might actually have the opposite effect, and set him on a path to try to fix the sins he committed. Personally, I think that after this is when Bran will once again have doubts, this time in his ability to use his powers effectively. After all, he's a child, he's going to have strong emotions about this.
It makes perfect sense for him to suddenly fear his powers, realize what he's done, and try to reject that part of him out of fear of what he might do. But ultimately, it's part of a learning process, and something or someone will once again convince him to embrace his powers and use them for good, this time with his past mistakes now influencing better decision making. After that, he must face the true horrors of reality, the creatures from those nightmarish tales he loved hearing about, when the Long Night falls again. He must confront fear itself.
Greenseeing Powers
The show had Bran as someone who only used his powers to look far away and in the past, but greenseers in the books are much more than people sitting in a tree watching. They had all sorts of abilities, and Bran has demonstrated some of them. Others we learn from stories of the past. As a greenseer, Bran is a skinchanger, and an incredibly strong one at that, able to enter Hodor's mind on a whim. He can enter into ravens hundreds of miles south of the Wall, as demonstrated by the curious ravens cawing Theon's name in the TWOW sample chapter.
He can also enter and look through the weirwoods, and back at the past. Apparently, his seeing won't be restricted to the trees and eventually he can look even further without the need for them.
"Once you have mastered your gifts, you may look where you will and see what the trees have seen, be it yesterday or last year or a thousand ages past. Men live their lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come. Certain moths live their whole lives in a day, yet to them that little span of time must seem as long as years and decades do to us. An oak may live three hundred years, a redwood tree three thousand. A weirwood will live forever if left undisturbed. To them seasons pass in the flutter of a moth's wing, and past, present, and future are one. Nor will your sight be limited to your godswood. The singers carved eyes into their heart trees to awaken them, and those are the first eyes a new greenseer learns to use … but in time you will see well beyond the trees themselves."
And despite Bloodraven's insistence that Bran cannot change the past, it's very clear that is wrong. Bran speaks to Ned when he sees him and Ned visibly responds. Not to mention "hold the door" and going back in past Hodor's mind. Speaking of, Bran can seemingly communicate with the trees, and he has done so with Theon at the Winterfell godswood. First, during the night of the Pink Wedding, Theon hears something calling to him but finds nobody around. True, might be he's been driven psychotic by the torture at Ramsay's hands, but it becomes a bit more real later on.
The night was windless, the snow drifting straight down out of a cold black sky, yet the leaves of the heart tree were rustling his name. "Theon," they seemed to whisper, "Theon."
The old gods, he thought. They know me. They know my name. I was Theon of House Greyjoy. I was a ward of Eddard Stark, a friend and brother to his children. "Please." He fell to his knees. "A sword, that's all I ask. Let me die as Theon, not as Reek." Tears trickled down his cheeks, impossibly warm. "I was ironborn. A son … a son of Pyke, of the islands."
A leaf drifted down from above, brushed his brow, and landed in the pool. It floated on the water, red, five-fingered, like a bloody hand. "… Bran," the tree murmured.
They know. The gods know. They saw what I did. And for one strange moment it seemed as if it were Bran's face carved into the pale trunk of the weirwood, staring down at him with eyes red and wise and sad. Bran's ghost, he thought, but that was madness. Why should Bran want to haunt him? He had been fond of the boy, had never done him any harm.
Bran also seems to have the ability to awaken others skinchanging powers, even when he was not entirely aware of it. Take the wolf dream Jon has while in the Frostfangs.
When he closed his eyes, he dreamed of direwolves.
There were five of them when there should have been six, and they were scattered, each apart from the others. He felt a deep ache of emptiness, a sense of incompleteness. The forest was vast and cold, and they were so small, so lost. His brothers were out there somewhere, and his sister, but he had lost their scent. He sat on his haunches and lifted his head to the darkening sky, and his cry echoed through the forest, a long lonely mournful sound. As it died away, he pricked up his ears, listening for an answer, but the only sound was the sigh of blowing snow.
Jon?
The call came from behind him, softer than a whisper, but strong too. Can a shout be silent? He turned his head, searching for his brother, for a glimpse of a lean grey shape moving beneath the trees, but there was nothing, only . . .
A weirwood.
It seemed to sprout from solid rock, its pale roots twisting up from a myriad of fissures and hairline cracks. The tree was slender compared to other weirwoods he had seen, no more than a sapling, yet it was growing as he watched, its limbs thickening as they reached for the sky. Wary, he circled the smooth white trunk until he came to the face. Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother's face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
Don't be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him.
And suddenly he was back in the mountains, his paws sunk deep in a drift of snow as he stood upon the edge of a great precipice. Before him the Skirling Pass opened up into airy emptiness, and a long vee-shaped valley lay spread beneath him like a quilt, awash in all the colors of an autumn afternoon.
And we know that this was real because later...
Here in the chill damp darkness of the tomb his third eye had finally opened. He could reach Summer whenever he wanted, and once he had even touched Ghost and talked to Jon. Though maybe he had only dreamed that.
Nope, not a dream. That was real. It's almost scary to imagine how powerful he is if he awakened Jon's abilities unconsciously from so far away. Of course, greenseers can also have prophetic dreams of the future, in addition to visions of the past. Greenseers seem to have no limit on what animals they can enter, too.
"The greenseers were more than that. They were wargs as well, as you are, and the greatest of them could wear the skins of any beast that flies or swims or crawls, and could look through the eyes of the weirwoods as well, and see the truth that lies beneath the world."
The hunters among the children—their wood dancers—became their warriors as well, but for all their secret arts of tree and leaf, they could only slow the First Men in their advance. The greenseers employed their arts, and tales say that they could call the beasts of marsh, forest, and air to fight on their behalf: direwolves and monstrous snowbears, cave lions and eagles, mammoths and serpents, and more.
We must also talk about Coldhands, a very curious person indeed. He is a wight, but he can speak and do as he pleases himself, lacks the blue eyes of ice wights, and has lots of ravens following him. Personally, I believe Coldhands was one a member of the Raven's Teeth, Bloodraven's personal escort who joined him on the Wall. Is Bloodraven now using the body of a dead man for his own purposes? Is he skinchanging into a corpse and it's actually Bloodraven speaking through him?
We don't exactly know how the Others are controlling the wights, but it makes sense for them to be in some way related to skinchangers and greenseers. if that is the case, does that mean greenseers hold this power too, albeit in a different way? There is also this interesting tidbit from Asha.
She thought back to a tale she had heard as a child, about the children of the forest and their battles with the First Men, when the greenseers turned the trees to warriors.
The trees to warriors? Who knows what that means. Although I think it is time to consider exactly how the use of greenseeing and weirwoods could effect Bran. Unlike most gods, it seems the old gods are indeed real... but they aren't exactly literal gods.
"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies," said Jojen. "The man who never reads lives only one. The singers of the forest had no books. No ink, no parchment, no written language. Instead they had the trees, and the weirwoods above all. When they died, they went into the wood, into leaf and limb and root, and the trees remembered. All their songs and spells, their histories and prayers, everything they knew about this world. Maesters will tell you that the weirwoods are sacred to the old gods. The singers believe they are the old gods. When singers die they become part of that godhood."
Bloodraven doesn't seem to be entirely all there at the end either. We know there is a consequence of skinchanging too much, becoming more beast than man. Entering the weirwoods could have its own unique, but similar effect. The more you enter, the more you might mingle with the spirits inside the trees.
Let's look back at an early novella GRRM wrote, called A Song for Lya. In the novella, two telepaths, Robb and Lyanna (yup) travel to the planet of Shkea and learn about the inhabitant aliens, the Shkeen, worshipping a giant parasite called the Greeshka, which is an amalgamation of different peoples consciousnesses mixed together as some sort of afterlife.
Robb and Lyanna are a couple, and despite their telepathy allowing them to be closer to one another, Lyanna still feels lonely. When contacting the minds within the Greeshka, she learns that many people have found their loneliness vanished upon joining the Greeshka. After a fight with Robb, Lyanna allows herself to be consumed by the Greeshka before contacting Robb as he dreams and telling him to join her, only for him to reject.
There are quite a bit of similarities between this and how the weirwood afterlife functions. While the thematics of the two stories are rather different, Bran is a telepath, and he is entering into what is essentially the afterlife with many different consciousnesses inside of it. The idea that he becomes a little less Bran and a little more absorbed into this afterlife hivemind makes sense, although I don't think that we will see it quite the same way the show portrayed.
King Bran the Rebuilder
"Archmaester Rigney once wrote that history is a wheel, for the nature of man is fundamentally unchanging. What has happened before will perforce happen again, he said."
ASOIAF has a lot of events in the main series that parallel those in-world historical events, and those historical events might even be foreshadowing for the future. So it might not come as big of a surprise that Bran becoming king at the end sort of acts as a parallel to Bran the Builder. Bran the Builder was supposedly the first Stark King of Winter who emerged after the Long Night, built the Wall, Winterfell, and supposedly Storm's End and the Hightower. Likewise, Bran is the first new king emerging after the Long Night, and given how broken the realm will be at the end of the series, it will be his prerogative to try to rebuild it and make it function again. So, Bran the Rebuilder.
But again, the circumstances are a bit different. Bran the Builder became a King of Winter, but apparently Bran is going to end up as King of Westeros. Isaac Hempstead-Wright said:
"David and Dan told me there were two things George R.R. Martin had planned for Bran, and that was the Hodor revelation, and that he would be king."
And in Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon, GRRM says:
GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: It wasn’t easy for me. I didn’t want to give away my books. It’s not easy to talk about the end of my books. Every character has a different end. I told them who would be on the Iron Throne, and I told them some big twists like Hodor and “hold the door,” and Stannis’s decision to burn his daughter. We didn’t get to everybody by any means. Especially the minor characters, who may have very different endings.
This does come as quite a shock, and it is admittedly difficult to see how this will happen. However, while the show was extremely disappointing, I am willing to give GRRM a chance to show us how we get there. Narratively, it does make a certain amount of sense, since Bran was the first character George created and the first POV character whose chapter we get, so for it to end with him is a good circle.
Thematically, I think there is a certain view of why this ending for Bran fits. For starters, I don't think magic is going to go away like a lot of people predict, but come to stay. In contrast to the way The Lord of Rings ended, King Bran seems to suggest some sort of more magical world. Not to say it will be super high fantasy, but magic will be more common. A magical kingdom, a magical king. What better way to usher in a new era in Westeros?
Bran also has a deep connection to the weirwoods. If the First Men cutting down the weirwoods was a metaphor for humanity's current destruction of the environment and climate, then Bran being king might be a metaphor for humanity coexisting with nature. Admittedly, I'm not saying that is 100% what King Bran means, I'm mainly just suggesting ideas on what it could mean, given we have no real context behind it other than what were were told and the last two books have yet to be released.
I dislike the reading that Bran as king is dystopian and that he would be enforcing a "police state" and that only a "god-king" could be a good leader. Or even further, that Dany and Bran's endings mean "revolution bad, big brother king good". Disregarding what Dany's ending means being, in my opinion, irrelevant to her status as a revolutionary, these takes always presume that King Bran has to be one way and has to be evil. That Bran having such immense power means that it's going to be the worst case scenario. Why can't it be more hopeful? The series isn't ending nihilistically, it's ending bittersweet.
Bran can look into the past, he could learn about the past mistakes people have made, and learn from it to make better decisions in the future. Sure, he could spy on people far away, but I don't think it's really Big Brother-esque. When you live in a world not so technologically advanced, it might help to learn info from far away much quicker.
That said, how Bran's ascension occurs is a mystery. The show hand-waved it away as just "he has a good story and that will unite people", which is... weak to say the least. Also there is the fact that he is effectively proof of the old gods, and a wizard with immense powers, which might alienate people in the south, or just outright scare people because he's capable of so much and they don't understand and find it scary. He's also going to be a kid, and he has no claim to the Iron Throne.
I will end this post with some suggestions for how this could happen. Nothing concrete, but some ideas of how we might get there. For starters, Bran has to amount to something, unlike the show. He did practically nothing but act as bait. But GRRM is not shy about showing magic, so the magical components of his story are definitely going to play a larger role. Since there is set up for it, Bran having a large role in ending the Long Night could indeed make him a hero of sorts to people, and make him be respected. As a disabled person in a very ableist society, people won't inherently trust or like him.
It's also possible that if Daenerys ends up dead and Jon is exiled, that through some technicality, Bran could be viewed as a sort of heir. Jon is both Targaryen and Stark. With the other Targaryens all but gone, the closest relatives to the final living Targaryen being Starks might give Bran a chance to be selected as king. We could also see Sansa or someone else trying to maneuver events politically to help Bran gain the throne, especially if she sees him as the best option for Westeros in the long run. A Great Council being called makes sense too (not the laughable "council" in the show).
But these are all just ideas I'm throwing at a wall. It's important to keep in mind that a lot of what I'm proposing is mainly just my own interpretation of the text. I'm flawed, I might not always make sense. It doesn't help that we don't have the last two books yet, and the show was a badly pasted together cliff-notes version, so we are left in the dark about a lot.
#asoiaf#asoiaf meta#bran stark#the winds of winter predictions#a dream of spring predictions#king bran
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