#I know it's unnecessary but explaining my absence makes me feel better about it.
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Price of love (Chapter 7)
Warnings: Disregard of life. Violence. HYDRA brainwashing. Trauma/backstory. Feeling of inadequacy. Let me know if i missed any.
Note: Thank you for reading! <3
Word Count~ 3297
“Hey…” You said as you entered his office. “I think I want to stay. My vacation taught me a lot about myself, and how to deal with things, so I think I am ready to return full-time. To continue counteracting the red.” Fury didn’t smile often and there were very few people who could make him, but you made him smile.
“You know that you don’t have to counteract anything, but I am glad that you are doing better. I missed your sunshine presence.” You couldn’t shake the guilt that easily but hearing that you were missed warmed your heart. You and Fury continued to discuss how you wanted to come back onto missions, if you wanted to keep leading a team, or if you would just rather work with another team. Your first scheduled mission started tomorrow, early. You never liked getting up early for missions, but it still happened from time to time.
The next morning you left a note on your door to explain your absence. With the fact that you are scheduled to be back in approximately a day. You headed down to the weapons room and packed what you thought would be needed. Then you walked through the silent halls down to the jet bay. Being the first one there you started to do the jobs that usually the mission leader would do.
Slowly the rest of the team arrived and piled on the jet. “Great, which one of us has to be paired with missing piece?” one of the other agents asked the mission leader. Your heart sank as you heard the title you had tried to get rid of for years. She was not who you were anymore, you were better than that.
With a laugh, the mission leader replied, “No one, just because Fury told us to take her, doesn’t that we had to treat her the same. And if she doesn’t return, oops… oh well.” The words crushed you as you realized your fellow agents didn’t have your back if something went wrong. Luckily, you had butt-dialled Bucky and got his voicemail, then Fury would have proof of the words these agents said, but none of that mattered if you didn’t survive this mission.
As the jet landed everyone was given a partner, but you. Then everyone was given their task. Yours was unnecessary and dangerous. This was supposed to be an extraction mission, to rescue some people who had been captured by HYDRA. You were tasked with going to their control room and downloading as much information as you could. They didn’t care that this wasn’t an abandoned base, nor did they have enough people to clear the base, that mission was scheduled for later.
“Just get in and out, that’s all you have to do.” You whispered to yourself as you turned invisible, although you knew it was pointless because HYDRA had ways to detect invisible things. Still, this was the directive given, so you were determined to follow it. Maybe after that, you would go back to leading your own team. If you survived that is.
As soon as you entered the correct room the lights went out, and just as your vision was adjusting everything went dark.
“Steve, I’m telling you, I’m worried. We need to go out there and find her. Her team is putting her in danger.” Bucky paced through the kitchen as Steve made some coffee. Waking up to a voicemail hearing that the agents you were on a mission with were deliberately putting you in danger, caused him to panic, he just started to get you back.
“You need to have faith that these agents will be smart, and you need to have faith in your girl, she has always been excellent on missions, even alone.” Steve understood his best friend’s concern, but he knew that they had to be rational about things.
With a huff, Bucky made his way down to the training room to get out his worries. Natasha was already training when Bucky stormed in. “Woah, what’s got you so stressed?” She knows that he rarely shows how he is truly feeling.
“Steve says that I need to trust that things will be okay but the agent’s on Moonlight’s mission, are willingly putting her in danger. This is her first mission since the one she got shot on, what if something happens to her.” Bucky exhaled sitting down. He then played Nat the voicemail. Natasha’s breath hitched, hearing how flippantly they were talking about her friend’s life.
“What do you say to joining me on the mission, to clear out that HYDRA facility? It was scheduled to leave when the other team got back, but I think that the sooner we leave the better. How does that sound?” Natasha packed up her bag and started to send a message. All of the agents on the mission were to be ready down in the jet bay by no later than one o’clock. The determination on Bucky’s face told her everything she needed to know. She gave him the same information she told the other agents, and they parted ways to get ready.
Bucky paced the jet bay, he had been ready for hours, having prepped the jet and everything else for this mission. “Hold on Moonlight, I’m coming to find you.” He whispered to himself. “I can’t lose you; I just got you back.” Natasha interrupted his rambling by setting her bag down beside him.
“We’ll find her, I promise.” She put a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder. “She’s strong, she’ll be alright.” She was not only trying to convince Bucky but also herself.
The entire flight over, Bucky was tense, worried about what awaited them at the HYDRA base. Would he even be able to find you within his past?
Natasha gave out the instructions and the pairings. She and Bucky were searching for you, that was their directive. “Let’s go find our girl,” Nat said with hope lacing her tone.
First, they checked in with the team that you came with, but none of them had seen you since you went off your own direction. As they snuck through the facility, Natasha felt a familiar chill, that she hadn’t felt in a while.
“We need to be careful,” Nat whispered with a hunch about that feeling. Bucky gave her a nod before refocusing on his surroundings. Her feeling didn’t prepare her for what was about to happen though. A strong force that felt like a foot, collided with Nat’s back and she stumbled forward. Bucky readied his knife as he tried to help steady Natasha. “No, it’s her, we can’t hurt her. We have to be careful.” Nat exclaimed as she turned trying to remember the signs of where you might be. The chill started to fade, and Natasha realized that you weren’t after them, someone else was your target. She ran after the fading chill and Bucky followed her.
“Where are we going?” Bucky asked matching her pace. He was very confused as to what was going on, why would you attack Nat?
“We have to find out who her target is. I’m following her chill, but it’s fading faster than usual.” Nat said as they fought their way through a group of HYDRA agents. She had promised that they would never get you again. One of the agents uses her moment of guilt, to surprise her. Natasha stunned him with her widow’s bite, but not before the agent caught her side with his knife. Luckily, it wasn’t a deep cut. As she got up, Bucky finished off the last of the other agents. There was just a trace of where you went left, as fast as she could manage, Nat took off towards you.
You were heading toward the entrance, and while Nat had hopes that you were just trying to escape, she knew that was not the truth. As she exited the building, she saw you standing talking to the agents you came on this mission with. Bucky was about to shout your name, but Natasha stopped him. “She’s not herself right now, and we don’t want to put anyone in unnecessary danger.” She whispered creeping closer to you.
Your first mission was to recover the people who were rescued by the extraction team. HYDRA had big plans for them. The other agents were less than pleased to see that you returned, but what they didn’t know was the fate that they had hoped you would meet, was the one you were directed to give to them. You pulled a knife out of one of your pockets, hiding it until you had them right where you wanted them.
“Watch out!” Nat shouted knowing she wouldn’t get there in time to protect them. That was enough to direct the attention away from the group and onto Natasha, and Bucky. You glanced at Bucky before locking your blank eyes on Natasha. “I’m going to need you to restrain her, James. You are the one person here she won’t risk hurting.”
His face paled with confusion. How did Natasha know that, was there more here than she was letting on? But Bucky did as he was told, as you charged toward Natasha, Bucky intercepted. You tried turning invisible in hopes to trick him, but he held you tightly. After a few minutes, you stopped thrashing about like you had been deactivated.
Natasha let out a sigh as she walked over to Bucky. “The worst should be over now.” She then spoke some words in Russian, but Bucky was too confused to comprehend what she was saying. As she finished you came to, with a panicked look on your face. You looked up to see Bucky holding you, and you couldn’t hold back your tears. You felt disgraceful crying on the battlefield, but if what you think just happened, happened, crying is the least of your problems. Still not understanding exactly what was going on, but having a hunch that HYDRA had taken control, Bucky pulled you into his chest so you could calm down.
“I’m sorry, I tried, but I guess I’m not strong enough. I failed, Habiba.” You sobbed out feeling like those years of practice went down the drain.
“You didn’t fail, and you are strong enough, but they were stronger this time. We will keep working on things until I can see if Shuri can give us a hand one more time.” Natasha glanced at Bucky hoping that he was understanding everything.
What happened next was something that almost no one there was expecting. The rest of the Avengers arrived, led by none other than Nick Fury himself. “Mr. Barnes, can I ask that you sit the rest of this mission out, to watch her?” The look in his eye told Bucky that Fury needed him to protect you like you were very important to him, rather than you might have been a threat. Bucky gave him a strong nod before picking you up and carrying you to the jet Fury had brought.
“It’s okay, Doll. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You got up to pace when he set you down, thinking about whether you should tell him about your past now or wait until later. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did the other agents call you missing piece? And does it have to do with your time in HYDRA?” You took a deep breath to steady yourself.
“Well, I guess you do deserve to know me and that means my past too.” You took a deep breath before turning to face Bucky. “Let’s start at the very beginning. My dad met my mom after my older brother was born but before me or my baby sister. My brother always held a little bit of caution because he didn’t know this man, even though they tried insisting that he was his stepdad. But that never became important.” You exhaled a laugh.
“Anyway, my father was a Hydra officer when they met, it took a while, but my mom eventually learned what he did and even assisted him when he needed it. However, shortly before my little sister was born, they decided that they wanted out of that life. My mother was in blissful ignorance about the gravity of that decision, and my father ensured she stayed that way. He knew that there was no plausible way for him to leave HYDRA without it being taken down, which at the time seemed like an impossible task. But he also knew that his family would never be safe either.” You sat down next to Bucky.
“So he made a decision, one that changed my life, one that I wish he wouldn’t have made. When my siblings and I were young we took sleepy time medicine as my father called it, because he knew it would not be safe for us to potentially wake up in the middle of the night, when he had to do business. I am pretty sure he slipped my mom some in her bedtime tea though most of the time too. I remember the night of the incident perfectly. I think mainly because I have had to recall it so many times in therapy. My baby sister had been put to bed after her bottle and my older brother drank his juice then went to bed. I had drunk mine, but as I was lying in bed, I heard my father talking to my mom. She asked what she could do to help with the plan, but he insisted that she should go have a bath and that she should take her tea to relax since us kids were already in bed.” Your breathing started to shake as you tried to continue.
“What he did next haunts me to this day. He doused the house, every inch of floor, and every person in gasoline.” Bucky let out an involuntary gasp at your words. “I can still sometimes feel and smell it on myself. There were only four bodies retrieved, but they assumed for a while it was because the ignition point was in my bedroom that there was just no body left to be found. In reality, I ran, I tried to wake everyone up when I found out what he was doing but no one would wake. So I ran. I just about slipped and if I had I still wonder if I would have gotten out in time. I had to strip to get out of my room because all of our pyjamas had chips that set off an alarm if they left the bedroom.”
A shiver shook you as you gathered your thoughts. “My room was chosen as the ignition point because my father knew that I was the only one who sometimes woke up during the effects of the medicine. So not only I was running to god knows where I still cannot remember that detail, I was doing so in nothing but my underwear. Before I got to my destination, I was suddenly unconscious. When I woke up, I was in a HYDRA base.” Bucky’s hand covered his mouth as he tried to comprehend what you had gone through.
“The officer who was there greeted me by saying, ‘Ah, subject 219 you have grown since we last got to see you. Your father tried to keep you away from us, but we knew that he would fail. He was weak, and so was the rest of your family. Oh but you, you are something special.’ I didn’t understand what any of that meant at the time. I later learned that my mother agreed to be experimented on while pregnant with me. She didn’t show any signs of the experiment, so they figured that I had taken it on myself. I didn’t start showing signs of anything strange until that traumatic moment. I’ll be honest I still don’t understand the logistics of it. The main gift that I was given was invisibility. I can make myself and anything I have on me or am holding unable to be seen by any living or man-made creation, however as you might have noticed with Nat tracking me, I make the air around me colder.” Bucky wrapped his arms around you instinctually.
“My time at HYDRA was mostly used to assist their greatest asset, which is why, I’m assuming Nat instructed you to restrain me. She, missing piece, had been programmed to never be able to inflict harm upon the winter soldier.” His grip involuntarily tightened.
“I was rescued by Fury, about 2 years later, and I lived with him at shield headquarters until I became the head of my own team. But for the first few years, Fury had to fight the law in order for me to be allowed to stay there and not be sent to a juvenile detention center. Some members of the government tried to explain that I was really young when it happened so I wouldn’t have been capable of making the distinction between right and wrong, but that was proved false. I somehow had an impeccable sense of morality. Also the severity of the incident, they knew it was no accident. I don’t remember the initial story that Fury came up with for me, but I was eventually forced to do community work and go to court-mandated therapy, so that, to quote, ‘I never did something like that again.’ Fury has tried to get that expunged from my record, but if you dig far enough it still says that I was responsible.” You buried your face into Bucky’s chest to calm your shaking.
“Sometimes I end up in my old neighbourhood for missions, and I still hear people talking about my family, and how I should have been forced to meet the same fate, even though the death penalty was never used on children. If I am ever in public, I worry that people are going to recognize me as that child even though I look almost nothing like I did back then. That child feels like a whole different person. But my court-mandated therapy is why we met, well, indirectly. I finished serving my sentence, and I have kept up with therapy, but with a therapist who actually cares about the person they are working with. I still go by the other office though to make sure everyone is alright before heading into that room because there were a few sessions that I left and I considered ending it, but Fury reminded me that there is more to life than the past.” Bucky’s heart ached for you and the pain you had been through.
“He helped me find another therapist, and I saw them simultaneously because the government only recognized one therapist for the sentence. The way she asked me questions not only felt like an interrogation but also made me feel like I was the one at fault. That is one of the main reasons people have to do special training to interrogate children. But it shouldn’t have been an interrogation.” The tears you were trying to hold back started to wet his shirt.
He swallowed the lump in his throat as he rubbed your back. Bucky couldn’t believe that someone so happy and sweet had such a terrible past. He presses his lips to your head trying to figure out what to say in a moment like that. “You don’t have to say anything, I get that this is a lot of information.” You reassured him. Being that vulnerable took a lot out of you, so you curled deeper into him to rest for a little while. “Just rest, Doll. You are safe with me.”
Epilogue
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader
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The Great Hypocrisy
They always expect me to explain something that they don’t know themselves. Sexual attraction. How can I explain the absence of it if you can’t explain the presence? Why is it so impossible, so improbable, so difficult to believe that it might just not be there? It’s better when they ask than when they make incorrect assumptions about it, but it hurts so much to have to explain at all. It feels like tearing a part of me and folding it into a shape they’ll enjoy and presenting it like a creation of origami. Nobody else has to explain what they might or might not feel, why should I? A gay man does not have to explain how he doesn’t feel attraction to women. A straight woman does not have to explain how she doesn’t feel attraction to women. Why should I? But what is the alternative? To refuse to explain? Then they would continue with their incorrect assumptions and it would be my fault. They might not believe it is real and then I’ll have been complicit in the next they invalidate. They would become more bigoted and it’ll weigh on me to have added more bad into the world.
I cannot understand how they think it’s even possible for it not to be real. Why would I, why would anyone make such a thing up? If sex is indeed so wonderful, so pleasurable as they all claim it is, why would I deny it to myself? If sexual attraction is so natural, so universal, why would I have trouble finding it within myself? How can they not understand how incomprehensible it is that most of the world places more value in putting two people’s body parts together than anything else? How could that be the most intimate thing? Why does anyone think they could possibly know me, understand me better than I would? If you can’t explain how sexual attraction feels, how do you expect me to explain how it doesn’t feel? Why should I be the one researching it so I can explain it to others, so they won’t make me feel a fraud? Why can’t you accept it when I tell you and search it up if you don’t understand? Why does it matter so much to you at all, even if you don’t understand? Why can’t I just be? Why do I have to be some puzzle for you to solve and to keep trying until you’ve solved it or established it to be missing some pieces?
Love is just so difficult to find while being ace. Romantic love, especially. It feels like a secret if you don’t tell them you’re ace. And then you do and then it feels like you’ve disappointed them. Like you’ve added some unnecessary burden. And then it doesn’t work and it feels entirely attributable to your being ace. And then every thought as you overthink it in your head begins with the phrase “if I weren’t ace”. Even if they say they’re okay with it, how could you know for sure? How do you ever know? How to stop feeling like you’re denying them something? How much compromise is too much? Is the only solution dating only ace people?
It's not even just difficult with romantic love, it’s difficult even with platonic love. Friendship is a concept I take so seriously. I hold it reverently in my hands like a beautiful precious flower. But others don’t see it that way. People see friends as placeholders until they find romantic partners. They see them as an easy way to while away time, easy companionship. They see friendship as some second prize consolation award to romantic love. How could they ever reduce love to something so small, so pathetic? How could I trust in their friendship when they seem to always see it second to romantic love? How can I have friends if I have to always be worried that one day, they will find a partner and leave me in the dust? And if they believe that relationships without sexual attraction have no value or have reduced value, how could I ever have a relationship with any of them? Am I then again forced only to find ace people, to date and to be friends with?
They never truly want to understand. They merely want it to fit the boundaries of reason they have in their mind, they want it to fit within the walls of what they know. They don’t want to admit that their basics must be wrong. That the structure they built this house on, cannot accommodate a terrace but that that doesn’t mean terraces aren’t real. They want you to make it make sense, but if you do, if you ever try, they try to change your mind and to tweak your explanation until it is utterly unrecognizable and fits within their expectations. You’re traumatised or scared or lying or some explanation that makes sense to them. They want you to explain but they never can and never will. And that is the great hypocrisy.
#ace#ace awareness#ace pride#asexual#queer#asexuality#aspec pride#aspec positivity#international asexuality day
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A month later and at last I come bearing an update once again. It’s bound to be incredibly lengthy as life has not been its most placid, but I am here nonetheless.
TL;DR for those also struggling with their time recently: Life stressful, Bun scare, WoW fun but friend/Mythic+ group is a mess due to losing a friend to toxicity, I will likely be remaking this multimuse blog and starting fresh there to give me more incentive to be around to write comfortably in a fresh, happy, non-cluttered place, complete with a new Birkan OC I talked about some months before now. Though I haven’t technically decided and was going to ask opinions, I will likely still be remaking, as everything here is a mess. Lulu’s blog will remain as is for now, as I am attached to it and has retained more activity from me ( not much more, however ), though I have also considered moving her with everyone as well to keep everyone in one place and maybe make my mind feel more focused in a collective space. I’m still very much on the fence about it. Thoughts on that are welcome.
There was a bit of optimism at the beginning of my break to play WoW. However, a little less than a day into the launch, I noticed something off about the youngest of my rabbits. Hazel, a netherland dwarf gifted to me by a neighbor down the way during Christmas a couple years ago so she had friends and wasn’t alone during the day, developed a head tilt. It was enough to be noticeable, but nowhere near the cases most see posted in pictures. Head tilt in rabbits is often a very serious thing, as it can cause permanent damage and even death if not treated immediately. Anything from an injury to unkempt ears to a common parasite ( which is technically classified as a fungus ) to neurological troubles - the range is about as vast as self-diagnosing with WebMD. Torticollis in rabbits has a bunch of different causes, very few of which are relatively mild.
I was - to say the least - in absolute hysterics. She was off balance, tripping over herself, curling up into herself trying to keep footing. To somebody that’s never seen it in person before, it looks like you’re watching an animal on the verge of passing from something neurological. I had no idea what was going on. To be frank, I was absolutely terrified. It was 1AM and very few vets were 24-hour, especially in this crisis, much less ones that could look at rabbits. I steeled myself to call the closest one for recommendations on what to do and where to go. Naturally, I was told there was nothing this place could do besides euthanasia ─ which, in my very emotional state, I was incredibly offended by the mere immediate suggestion of. Hazel had been acting completely normal up until then, and she still had her energy. She was trying to climb all over the place despite having no balance, and she showed no other symptoms of anything besides just tilting and falling over herself. At this point obviously I know they were simply stating that was the only thing they could do as they don’t take exotic pets, but in the moment, being offered it as the first and seemingly only solution made me upset. I’m sure that would be anybody in that situation. So, of course, I refused, and they told me of other places that would be able to at least see her at that time and give me more sound options.
I find a 24 hour emergency pet clinic about thirty minutes away. There’s a place that for sure takes exotics, but it’s 2 hours away and closed at this hour. Okay, fine, I don’t have time to wait with this. I call the 24 hour clinic. They tell me they do see exotics and can treat the basics but they don’t have the equipment to properly diagnose anything for certain. Unfortunate, but I don’t have any other options at this point. They say they will take her and monitor her behavior to figure out where I should go from there. I take her there. I try not to break down again on the ride there, I try not to break down as they take her padded comfy box from me. They tell me they have another, more serious case they have to see to immediately but will monitor her and do a basic check-up. It will take them an hour at minimum, and I was welcome to stay in the parking lot. I decide against it, go home to clean up and prep a space for her while trying to steel myself more. It takes a couple hours for them to call back.
Lo and behold, they have no idea what’s wrong. As stated when I called, aside from the head tilting, she is acting completely normal. Eating, going to the bathroom, has her energy, no leg or eye issues that are common with the usual problems that lead to head tilting. What tests they can run are absolutely normal. They gave her what they referred to as “a bunny feast”, and she delighted herself in it with no problems, and they even brushed her down for me ( I didn’t get the chance yet, her winter coat was just coming in ). She just has a head tilt all of a sudden, out of nowhere. This is great news, but it’s also upsetting, because I still have no idea what’s going on. They give me medication for an infection and Metacam for the potential pain she could have been in, and sent me on my way to monitor her at home. If anything changed for the worse, I would take her to the vet in Raleigh two hours away to have actual tests done.
Okay, so I’m still in the dark on what’s wrong, but I have medication. Great. I watch her for two weeks, give her the infection medication every 12 hours and the pain medication the first 4 days. And, in time, her head tilt begins to disappear. That tells both the doctor and I that it was either 1) an ear infection, which was now cured, or 2) an injury. My mind has me leaning towards the latter, if only because I know how fast she runs all over the place and Jolyne, my cat, does play with her. They have done so for years now without issue, often times Jojo will be running away from Hazel rather than vice versa. Hazel will do loops back and forth and then suddenly charge at her in an attempt to catch her off guard. I have not let her out with Jojo since then in case roughhousing was in fact the cause, but Hazel is back to running around like the crazy thing she is. I’m still watching her every day, and all the rabbits will hopefully be getting new, large hutches for Christmas. Hazel’s has been ordered. To this moment, I still have no idea what caused her head tilt. What I did learn, however, is that there are a lot of rabbits that get euthanized due to head tilt, when most of the ailments - if caught early enough and with lengthy TLC - can be cured. Rabbits can even live happily with the tilt should it become permanent ( which it can be! ). Here is a happy bun who lived a wonderful life with a permanent head tilt. Much worse than the way Hazel’s was, but the common bad tilt nonetheless. I called to tell them the great news, how grateful I was they could do anything at all, and they were ecstatic to have me call them back. Things in that regard are now back to normal, but I keep an eye on her as per usual. Definitely not the kind of scare I was expecting out of nowhere, but one I received nonetheless.
During the time I monitored her and kept her close at my side in her hutch ( I went out of the way to move her hutch in with me when I cleaned it, because why wouldn’t I? ), I enjoyed the launch of Shadowlands. My main WoW friend group, A/B/C/D/E, were all playing and content with what was happening. We even were talking to old friends, thinking about raiding, had two new friends coming to learn to play the game. It was great! But then base Mythics came out, and things went sour out of nowhere.
One of our long time friends in our original Mythic+ group became the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. We’ve all had our disagreements and issues with said friend for some time, as he has been very negative the past few months and a hamper on the friend group even before launch. Everyone knows things are at an all time low, and the world is not in its best state - but we come to play games to get away from the realities of things. We’re here to have fun and kid around, not to mope. This is not to say we’re not here to be supportive if something is genuinely wrong, or that sadness just isn’t allowed ever. That would be silly. We’re always here to support each other in rough times, and such is the reason we’re as tight-knit as we are to begin with. Always has been the case.
However, this was not your typical sad sort of negative. This was the permanent “Glass is Half Empty” mentality. Everything had to be negative. Win a BG match? He didn’t have fun because he got targeted down one time when he was alone on a caster. Clear base Mythics for the first time of the expansion? No time to celebrate, because he didn’t get a piece of gear out of it, or he didn’t do the burst he wanted on a trash pack because we didn’t cater to his pull plan. During the second week of Mythics, he was constantly complaining about not getting gear drops to the point it was making other members upset. No one likes doing eight dungeons, getting one or two drops, and both being pieces you don’t need. Hell, I did Mythic+ this entire week since it came out and I still have a Heroic neck on my body because it has a socket and great stats and I’ve not gotten another drop since. But to complain about not getting a drop and dunking on people who are getting the upgrade ─ which, in turn, betters the group ─ is just ridiculous. This was not exclusive to just WoW, either. Everything they played together when I was not present, he acted the same way ─ negative, upsetting, and very, very defensive whenever someone would tell him to knock it off. He’d pull the “oh you don’t care about me” card. He constantly felt like people were coming after him, even when nobody ever was, and that everyone just had something against him and we kept him there out of sheer pity ─ which was infuriating to all of us, the people who still considered him a friend and cared about him to tolerate the toxic behavior and try to work through it. He’d pretend to be a victim if you tried to call him out on bad behavior, acting as if he was being singled out, while also bad mouthing other people and poking fun at them and then disguising it as a joke ( or in his case, “a meme” ). When you’d do the same back, he’d pull the whole “dude that’s not cool, I get you’re joking but it’s not funny” attitude every time. He had to be right all the time, and if you tried to tell him he was wrong, he’d fight you on it until the bloody end, even when proven wrong earlier. He wanted to be catered to and, if things weren’t going the way he wanted, he was negative. If he wasn’t having fun, nobody else was allowed to have fun.
Friend A, who is essentially our leader that brought everybody together and often makes calls for the group ( though in reality we’re all just an aimless bunch of friends messing around and having fun ), has known Friend C for a longer than any of us. He considers him his best friend, and they have been close for many years since Cataclysm. We’re all friends, of course, but A and C have been close for a very long time. They are very supportive of one another, regardless of what happens, and always have been. However, even Friend A is getting very frustrated with Friend C’s behavior. Friend C has not always been like this. In fact, he used to be the complete opposite. He loves the guy to death and back, but the other members, particularly Friend D, is getting into mini verbal fisticuffs during dungeons disguised as friendly fun being poked and forth almost every night. Friend D complains about Friend C behind his back ( which he has been asked to tone down and, some nights, has been agreed with based on the issue at hand ). A new coworker of Friend A who is also a very chill, cool person had her own reservations about him when she joined due to his behavior and it kept her from joining voice calls. Hell, I got into an argument with him a week before launch due to his behavior, to which he tried to invalidate my argument by claiming I was “coming after him” and therefore my side was automatically invalid because I had a “personal vendetta” against him and me “shit-talking” him while making my points “comes off a certain way” ─ when the point I was making had absolutely nothing to do with him personally. Again, the same “I’m being attacked” mentality, when no such thing was happening.
Eventually one night while he was complaining about loot, Friend A had a talk with him about not complaining about not getting loot anymore, as it was wearing on everyone’s nerves. Mythic+ would come out soon, loot would be flowing in, and everyone would eventually be geared, including him. This wasn’t the first time he was talked to in regards to the way he’d been acting in general. He agreed to tone it down, and that was that. But guess what? That didn’t happen. The next night we finish up our Mythics, and he has to physically stop himself from making a comment and covers it up with “nope, I promised I wouldn’t complain about loot” with a tone that sounds like someone is struggling really, really hard not to say something and is holding back. Normally this would be something nobody cares about and is part of the process but this isn’t the first time he said something about it. He then proceeds to complain anyway, spends night questioning the tank’s ( Friend D at the time ) pulls and complaining about being beat in DPS every other pull because “oh I don’t have gear cause the game hates me so-” when he’s not even doing his AoE rotation properly ( found this out later after everything fell through ). His attitude is so negative it’s affecting the way he plays and, to put it bluntly, he’s playing and acting like shit.
So Friend A sits him down. Again. At this point he’s still trying his absolute best to work things out with him, but his foot has come down. His behavior for months has been toxic. People are getting fed up. He’s bringing down group morale. Everyone is worried his attitude is going to make the new people who are trying to learn the game quit because he’s constantly shit talking the game and pretending the world is ending in voice. Friend A tells him he’s here for him still and how he’s always here to talk if life is a mess and Friend C is still welcome, but he needs to get his shit straight. By the end of the chat, Friend C claims “that’s just how he is” and he can’t do anything about it ─ which is just such bullshit. We know good and well how he really is, and this ain’t it. He’s just too lazy, full of himself, and down on his luck to acknowledge he has a problem. He says it’s shitty of us not to “accept him for who he is” and how we all know his life is shit and that he’s justified. Friend A essentially tells him he doesn’t want somebody like that in his group. Friend C takes this as “oh I don’t want you here period”, essentially says “well I don’t want to be in a group that just pities me and takes me along because they feel bad and not because they’re actually my friends”, leaves the discord group, removes Friend A from discord, removes friend A from Battle.net, then blocks him in both places. Out of nowhere. Friend A then comes to announce that Friend C will no longer be a part of our group. This is a TL;DR, since I wasn’t there for the conversation and it’s been a little bit since I’ve asked Friend A exactly what was said and feel it inappropriate to ask for specifics again since it’s all behind us now and that night still upsets him to this moment.
Since then, Friend C has come back to try and make amends to everyone, especially the group, as he dropped without telling anybody out of frustration and essentially said “fuck you” to the entire group because he was upset at his best friend. Friend A was very emotional about it after it happened as, like said, this was his best friend who essentially just claimed he didn’t care about him at all and just pitied him despite doing everything he could to try to keep everybody happy and even catering to Friend C at times against his better judgement. Despite that, however, Friend A has stated multiple times he would not even take Friend C back as a friend unless he had a life evaluation first. Friend A and Friend C sat down to have another talk after the dust settled so Friend C could apologize, as Friend C reached out supposedly to do so, but he still acted as though he didn’t do anything wrong. He swore constantly on his dog-who-he-loved-dearly’s ashes he didn’t say the shitty things he said to Friend A that night. He didn’t own up to anything he said or did, only apologized for leaving immediately and dipping on everyone else, as he worried he’d “burned the bridge”. Friend A did not welcome him back with open arms but told him his doors were still open to talk and were never closed to begin with ( Friend C closed them himself by leaving suddenly, after all ) and that he could talk to him again when he figured everything out. Everyone is at least on speaking terms again, but he has not rejoined the discord nor the game group, and wasn’t even playing for a time. Now he’s supposedly playing and having fun again on his own terms and doing things we haven’t. Supposedly. So our Mythic+ group had a gap in it, which was filled by one of the new friends who just started playing. Both new players in our group are learning fast, but it has slowed our progression down, which we accept. People have swapped around classes to find accommodations as well, with Friend A now tanking and Friend D healing as they did before, delaying progress further. But now with things decided and in place, we will begin to push again. After all, it’s only the first week of Mythic+. We haven’t really lost any important progress.
Friend A was very upset and felt like there was more he could’ve done, but everyone in the group has told him day in and day out there was nothing else he could’ve done. Friend C still has a lot to sort out and has seemingly taken absolutely nothing from this situation.
Both of these situations, on top of the seizures the person I consider a second mom to me still happening ( which she went in for today to be looked at again while she’s being treated for something else ), has made writing nigh impossible. I have been having a lot of fun playing WoW and the issue with Friend C, while a big hamper on things in the moment, hasn’t stopped me from enjoying it as is. Both the major hospitals near me have recently announced they are at full capacity on virus patients and will no longer be accepting more of them and, so long as there’s no immediate reason to do so, have asked people to stay inside as much as possible because of it. With Hazel’s emergency making me miss my dad’s small Thanksgiving as I was up all night that night and it was the next day, this means I will also not make it to his Christmas. I did not go to my mom’s get-together for Christmas either, as it was at her restaurant where she works and the number of people there made me nervous. She was sad, but there’s nothing I could really do to justify the risk. The fact people still want to have any kind of gathering even for the holidays blows my mind.
That all being said, things have calmed down enough for me to consider making another attempt at writing again and retuning to the blogs I have missed dearly. The breaks are always nice, but I’ve had to take far too many of late, and struggling with the energy and mindset to write for months is really starting to get under this bun’s blue fur. In the time I’ve been away I’ve thought about remaking this blog, as it’s a complete mess and riddled with old things that are no longer a part of it. My tags are messed up, my info is all over the place, and I feel as though a fresh place filled with friends who are still active might speed up the process of getting me back on track. In addition to that, I’ve thought more about the OC idea I brought up some time ago and will be adding said OC to the roster once things are set-up, assuming I go through with the idea. I’ve also considered adding Lulubelle to the multimuse as well to keep everyone in one place, but as I’m attached to her blog and hers is more organized, I’m reluctant to do so. It is a thought and consideration, nonetheless. It will all take some time to do, but afterward, assuming it goes as expected, activity will resume once again.
It will take some time, but hopefully things will be back to the way they were soon enough. ♥
#❥ // * the rabbit stowaway ( ooc. )#❥ // * shouting from the scaffold ( psa. )#❥ // * ever running on stories of the sea ( long post. )#|| holy moly this is so long I'm so sorry#tl;dr is plenty enough of an update.#but it felt reassuring to type out the hectic events of the month.#I know it's unnecessary but explaining my absence makes me feel better about it.#I have high hopes and nothing will stop me from kicking down the proverbial door.#I will return as I planned if it's the last thing I do.#I swear on my little bunny life. ||
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Jon wears a leather jacket to work. No one is immune.
Jon’s running late.
He doesn’t often run late. Ever since he got the promotion, he’s been working overtime- coming in early, staying late, sometimes not leaving at all. He had a mess on his hands, and its one he intends to fix.
So while it’s been some time since he’s seen Rosie at the front desk, it isn’t enough for her to do a double take. But that she does, her usually stoic face going red and her eyes widening in what looks like shock. That’s a bit dramatic.
“O-Oh!” She’s stuttering. Rosie never stutters. “G-Good morning, Jon. You look- you’re looking very nice today!”
That can’t be true. He slept through his alarm, something he hasn’t done in ages. He didn’t have time to comb his hair and decided to leave it in the messy bun from yesterday- at least it’s out of his way. He skipped shaving altogether and couldn’t find his usual cardigan, instead resorting to an old, beat up leather jacket from college. It’s seen better days, and it reeks of guilty cigarettes snuck in his most desperate hours. The picture of professionalism he is not.
“Um, okay,” is the only response he can think of giving, scurrying past her desk and down to the basement. He doesn’t have time to parse that interaction out, not when his assistants are probably already gathered round, gossiping about his absence. Sure enough Tim’s sitting on Sasha’s desk, smirking and whispering something as he walks through the door, keeping his head down with a grumbled “Good morning.”
The chatter instantly stops. He hazards a glance to find Tim and Sasha, open-mouthed and staring in what can only be horror or fear. He was never any good at reading people.
“Good Lord,” Tim whispers, borrowing a phrase from Jon’s book. It sounds odd coming from his mouth, and even stranger in that soft tone. Tim’s deafening on a good day, and Jon’s never seen his golden skin turn quite so red.
“Good morning, Jon,” Sasha’s smirking, her voice turning velvety and smooth. He’s heard her use that tone in bars when she wants another round for the table. Never in the Archives. And never once has it been aimed at him. Jon bristles.
“What is going on?” he asks impatiently, running a hand through messy hair. He could swear Tim gulps. “Do I have something on my-”
He’s interrupted by a loud, high-pitched squeal, followed by the shattering sound of two mugs full of hot tea hitting the tile. He jumps back to avoid the mess, scowling at the man in front of him. Martin looks like he’s having a coronary; Jon wasn’t aware faces could turn that red. And he, too, is staring.
“I’m late, I don’t have time for this,” he says, side-stepping the spreading puddle and throwing a scowl at Martin’s gaping face. “Clean this up.” He walks away to sputtered apologies and a snicker from Sasha. What’s gotten into them today?
He shuts the door with a decisive click, should anyone think of bothering him.
_________
And not an hour later, someone does.
He answers Martin’s tentative knock with a curt “Come in.” Martin’s looking at his feet as he shuffles in with a cup of tea, his face only slightly less red. He stands as far away as possible when he deposits it on his desk, refusing to meet Jon’s eyes and likely not seeing his nod of thanks. But instead of leaving, he just stands there.
“Do you need something?” Martin jumps at his voice, raising his eyes minutely before lowering them again. What in the world…?
“Y-Your jacket.” He flushes again and Jon’s starting to think he should really see a doctor about that. “You’re still wearing it.”
He is. He hadn’t given it much thought; it’s cold down in the Archives, and sometimes he’ll go all day with a jacket or cardigan over his shoulders. Still, Martin’s right- it doesn’t look very professional. He starts to shrug out of it when Martin throws his hands out in front of him, like Jon’s about to cut the wrong wire on a bomb.
“N-No!” His voice comes out high and strangled. It’s very irritating. “Don’t!”
“What on earth is going on with you-”
“It’s just- you shouldn’t! Not if you’re cold.” Martin gives him a weak smile that Jon doesn’t return. “Wouldn’t want you to get s-sick or something!”
Jon stares. “Please leave.”
“O-Okay.” Martin backs out of the room. Jon keeps the jacket on.
It is cold.
_______
Thirty minutes later, Sasha comes in with a file he doesn’t need. She lingers with some inane chatter which is very much unlike her, and her phone’s positioned awkwardly in front of her. If Jon didn’t know any better, he’d think she was taking a photo.
The last straw comes when Tim leans in the doorway, a leer on his face. That always means trouble.
“Come to drop off an unnecessary document?” he snarks, slamming a book closed. He’s tired of this game they’re playing. “Maybe finish whatever strange prank you’ve got planned? You know I don’t have time for-”
“Boss.” Tim’s face goes serious, an alarming sign for him. “I have to tell you something. And I promise I’m not making fun of you or anything. I know where your mind goes.”
Jon rolls his eyes at the dramatics. “If you insist-”
“Jon.” Tim comes closer and Jon subconsciously shifts back in his chair. “Objectively, this is the hottest you’ve ever looked.”
What?
Tim raises a finger. “Don’t give me that. I mean, did you look in the mirror today?”
Well, that’s a bit uncalled for. Jon knows he looks a bit scruffy, but this teasing has got to stop. He’s starting to feel a bit insulted. “Tim-”
“You look good. You look dangerous.”
“That’s not a compliment-!”
“Like you ride a motorcycle,” Tim continues, inching closer. His eyes are staring intently into Jon’s, but it seems like he’s lost in his own little world. “Or maybe you’re in a gang, or an underground syndicate. You’ve got a rough past but really, a heart of gold.” Perhaps Tim’s drunk. Or on drugs. He could be on drugs. It’s the only thing that would explain whatever the hell...this is.
“I meet you at a bar,” Tim’s sat down now, right in front of Jon’s desk. Instead of throwing his legs over the side of the chair he leans forward on his knees, still with that disconcerting eye contact. “You’ve stepped out for a smoke.” Oh God, can he smell it? “I’ve had a few too many. You say ‘Got a light?’ in a dark, husky voice.”
“Husky?”
“I nod, flicking my lighter on and raising the flame to your cigarette. You look me directly in the eyes as you inhale-” At this Tim does his own little breathy intake, a finger to his lips as if he’s putting on a one-man show. And Jon- well, Jon’s not immune.
Tim sighs, leaning back in his seat and letting his hands fall back into his lap. “And the rest? Is history.” He takes a moment to recover, blinking slowly. Jon stares.
“What I mean to say is-” Suddenly Tim’s back again, as if the previous minute had never happened. “-do you want to get a drink later?”
What the fuck?
Jon opens his mouth but then pauses, considers. It’s been a week. He’s tired, at the end of his rope. And maybe-
Maybe he misses Tim. Just a little. They did used to have fun, sometimes. Before all of this. Back when they were friends.
“Okay.”
Tim blinks. “What?”
“I’ll come,” Jon agrees, though the rational part of him wants to take it back. But Tim’s in front of him-ridiculous, charming, idiotic Tim- and how can he resist? “But I don’t smoke anymore, so I’m afraid I can’t quite live up to your fantasies.” Tim barks out a laugh and Jon finds himself smiling back, his face growing warm.
Perhaps he should wear this thing more often.
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491015
#my writing#tma#the magnus archives#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#tim stoker#sasha james#jontim#jonmartin#a little bit#and mostly pining#fluff#just a ridiculous idea that wouldn't let me go im sorry
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We’ve heard Jiang Fengmian as WWX’s bio father, now it’s time for Lan Qiren as secretly his father. (Please no Wangxian for this one!)
ao3
“You want me to what,” Lan Qiren said.
“Be the father of my child,” Cangse Sanren said. Simply and straightforwardly, as if that were just a thing people said.
Casually.
To their friends.
To their – as far as he knew – platonic friends!
“You’re married,” he stressed.
“Yes, Qiren-xiong, I’m aware,” Cangse Sanren said, her eyes bright with mirth. “I was even there through some of the festivities. Though not all, of course, since the bride gets sent away far too early at these things, and of course then there was all the liquor –”
“Cangse Sanren,” Lan Qiren said through gritted teeth, wishing not for the first time that his friend had an actual name rather than merely a title – something he could use or not use to emphasize his feelings on the subject.
She laughed at him, because of course she did.
“Let me explain,” she said, probably because she sensed that he was considering stabbing her if she didn't. “Lao Wei and I –”
“Aren’t you older than he is?” Lan Qiren asked, dubious. “Possibly by several centuries?”
“Humans call their husbands that,” Cangse Sanren said, waving her hands at him. “Don’t bother me with details.”
“…you’re human, right?”
“Of course! This is the fourth time you’ve asked, and the answer hasn’t changed. Why would you ever think otherwise?”
“The way that you continuously refer to – no, I’m not letting you distract me this time. Explain yourself!”
Cangse Sanren giggled into her sleeve. “We want children,” she said. “But he can’t, you see. Wrong parts. So we need someone else to be the sire, and I want it to be you.”
“Why?”
More giggling. “Because I like you. And why not?”
“And Wei Changze agreed to this?” Lan Qiren asked, slightly appalled. He knew Cangse Sanren well enough to assume that the answer had to be yes, and yet still...
“Yes, he did, but you’re welcome to talk with him directly. In fact, I encourage it.”
“Perhaps I will,” Lan Qiren said.
Wei Changze was a pleasant person, even if he and Lan Qiren weren’t direct friends – Lan Qiren was a bit too inflexible and serious, Wei Changze a little too free-spirited and light-hearted, so they’d never entirely bonded, but they were both very fond of Cangse Sanren in all her strangeness, each in their own way, and that was enough of a basis for a decent relationship.
“I’d be honored if you would agree,” Wei Changze said when Lan Qiren asked. “You’re my wife’s favorite person besides me – why not you?”
Lan Qiren could think of many, many reasons why not.
“I don’t want to impact your relationship with her,” he said cautiously, and Wei Changze blinked at him as if to say how would it do that? “If jealousy were to arise…”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Wei Changze said.
“…you understand that if I agree to your proposal, I would be sleeping with your wife.”
“Oh yes,” Wei Changze said. “Several times, I hope. We've got to make sure it takes, after all. On that note, can I watch?”
Lan Qiren was a man aware of his dignity. It was beneath his dignity to flail around like a teenager.
He flailed regardless.
“You don’t have to let me if you don’t want to,” Wei Changze said, but he was pouting. “I guess. I just think it’d be hot, that’s all.”
Lan Qiren put his head in his hands.
“You’re bright red,” Wei Changze observed. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
“I don’t even like Cangse Sanren that way,” Lan Qiren said, voice muffled by his palms. “I mean, I like her, but I don’t – like her. Romantically. At all.”
“And I’m very happy about that,” Wei Changze said soothingly. “As is she, being as she married me and not you. You don’t need to have romantic or even sexual feelings about her, you just need to platonically bang her a few times.”
“…I will do it provided you never refer to it that way ever again.”
“Deal,” Wei Changze said, and grinned, waving his wife in through the door; she bounded in like a lion on the hunt, smelling blood.
“Additionally, we should be clear about what we expect regarding the child,” Lan Qiren said, even though he was already being carted along to the bed by Cangse Sanren’s excessive momentum and Wei Changze’s entirely unnecessary assistance in removing his clothing. “Obviously any child will be yours in every respect, legally and emotionally and otherwise, both of you, but if possible I would still like to see him –”
“Of course,” Cangse Sanren said agreeably, removing his pants. “Whenever you like.”
-
“Something is wrong,” Lan Qiren said firmly.
Yu Ziyuan scowled at him, even as her husband frowned thoughtfully. “Cangse Sanren is a rogue cultivator,” she said acidly. “It is not unusual for rogue cultivators to go a few months without contacting their friends in the cultivation world.”
“We have an agreement that she would come by once every season or else send word. She has not missed a single instance, and yet now she does.”
“Why would she agree to meet so regularly with you? We barely see her once a year, if that,” Yu Ziyuan asked, and Lan Qiren knew her issues with Cangse Sanren were actually issues with Jiang Fengmian, but it still irritated him to be used as a pawn in their troubled marriage.
“If you do not intend to help me search, then just say so,” he said heavily. “I fear that something has happened to her, and I intend to find her; I would like your help, but will proceed without it if need be. If all is well and she just decided not to come, and also not to send word or any other sign, then I will apologize for the inconvenience and repay you any monies expended. But if not…”
“I will help,” Jiang Fengmian said, and Yu Ziyuan looked on the verge of exploding.
“I’ll leave you to sort that out,” Lan Qiren said, shaking out his sleeves and leaving at once. As per their agreement, Cangse Sanren brought Wei Ying to the Cloud Recesses once every season or else sent word explaining her absence – the lack of any word this time was deeply troubling. After all, in the end, despite Cangse Sanren’s relatively humble goals and low-key life, there was always that doom said to be associated with those who left the immortal mountain…
He worried.
He’d planned to tell Cangse Sanren about He Kexin’s death during her present visit, had hoped that Wei Ying’s presence might help lift Lan Zhan’s mood after the loss of his mother and give him some comfort – Wei Ying was Lan Zhan’s favorite person in all the world, bar none, and he had waited so anxiously, if wordlessly, for him to arrive during the month that they expected Cangse Sanren and her family to come. And yet the days ticked by and he didn’t arrive at all…
Lan Qiren worried.
Still, with Jiang Fengmian’s help, and of course the Nie sect’s – Lao Nie hadn’t hesitated to agree, even though unlike Jiang Fengmian he did not have a personal connection to either Cangse Sanren or Wei Changze and was acting wholly on account of his friendship with Lan Qiren – they would be able to cover a great deal of the cultivation world, especially given that Cangse Sanren disliked both Lanling Jin and Qishan Wen and was unlikely to venture into either of their territories.
They would find her.
He hoped that they would find her.
-
“Well, that was a meeting full of revelations,” Lao Nie said, eyes curved into crescents of mirth. “The only thing that would have made it better is if you’d ended your sentence with ‘so fuck off’. You know, so that it would’ve been ‘Because he’s my biological son, so fuck off’.”
“It isn’t anyone else’s business,” Lan Qiren said querulously. “I don’t consider him my son – he’s Wei Changze’s son! His surname is Wei for a reason! The exact mechanics of his conception are private-”
“Are they? Too bad, I’d have liked to hear about it.”
“Lao Nie!”
“What? It’d be hot.”
“Wei Changze said the same thing,” Lan Qiren grumbled. “What is wrong with all you people? Anyway, that was not my point; we can discuss your sexual titillation later. My point is that Wei Ying should not have a shadow cast over his parentage – I should not have had to reveal that fact at any point.”
“You had no choice,” Lao Nie said, not without sympathy. “Given that Wei Changze was a former disciple of the Lotus Pier, Jiang Fengmian had the better claim to custody absent that fact. Never mind that you were Cangse Sanren’s close friend, or that they came to visit you more often; never mind that Yu Ziyuan is to this day only barely able to restrain her jealousy and hatred of the pair of them and would be made miserable by the boy’s presence on the Lotus Pier, and possibly make his life miserable in return; never mind that Jiang Fengmian already grossly favors the boy over his own children, a surefire recipe for disaster…you had to say what you said, Qiren. Wei Ying will be better off at the Cloud Recesses.”
“He’ll be a disaster at the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qiren said, rubbing his temples. “He’s as free-spirited as his parents were. That’s the only hesitation I have…if it weren’t for all the other things you mentioned, Yu Ziyuan’s jealousy and the favoritism and all that, I would think he’d be better off among the Jiang.”
“He will make a very unique Lan,” Lao Nie acknowledged. “But he’ll be an adopted cousin to your nephews, and they’ll grow up as brothers. A-Zhan will be delighted.”
“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, acknowledging the point. At least there was that. “Yes, he will.”
“Maybe I’ll have a talk with Jiang Fengmian,” Lao Nie said, more to himself than Lan Qiren. “That poor Jiang boy, no one deserves to grow up with a real-life person being ‘another person’s child’. Perhaps I’ll see about inviting the boy over to the Unclean Realm more often. A-Sang could use a playmate…”
-
“You’re weird for a Lan,” Jiang Cheng said.
“That’s because I’m not a Lan,” Wei Wuxian laughed. “I’m a Wei! Lan Zhan’s a Lan, Xichen-da-ge is a Lan, but I’m not. Don’t let the white robes mislead you.”
Jiang Cheng coughed. “That’s not – what I meant.”
Wei Wuxian blinked at him.
“Well,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly looking extremely awkward. “Your father’s a Lan, isn’t he? Teacher Lan.”
“Oh, that! No, he’s not. Easy mistake to make,” Wei Wuxian assured him. “Lots of people think that, what with me knowing the Lan sect rules backwards and forwards and upside down – mostly so that I can haggle my punishments down when I break them, that's how I learn them best – but actually I’m Wei Changze’s son.”
Jiang Cheng’s face was red. “But…my dad said…”
“He helped,” Wei Wuxian conceded, tapping his nose meaningfully. “That’s why I’m so pretty! But Wei Changze was the one that wanted me, Wei Changze’s the one who gave me his surname; it’s his grave I sweep during Qingming. If you like, you can think of me as having been adopted into the Wei family; that’s common enough, isn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Jiang Cheng said, blinking. And then he said, sounding doubtful, “Do you really know all those rules?”
“All of them! You have no idea how much trouble you can make with a good set of rules.” Wei Wuxian grinned. “Want to see?”
“I – can we?”
“No,” Nie Mingjue said, stepping into the room. He looked tired, as always, but Wei Wuxian thought that there was never a time when he didn’t, certainly ever since he became sect leader too early. Lan Xichen was always worrying about him, and Lan Qiren, too, and since they were worried, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had figured they might as well get in on the action. “Not in the Unclean Realm you can’t. Save it for the Lotus Pier, since the Cloud Recesses are too wise to you now.”
“No one is truly wise to my wicked ways,” Wei Wuxian boasted, and Nie Huaisang poked his head out from behind Nie Mingjue’s back and waved – he’d been dragged away to saber training, leaving Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng to try to make friends without him. Without Lan Wangji, too, which was even more unfair; how was Wei Wuxian supposed to represent the gentle snow and wild wind without his other half?
Stupid seclusion. Wei Wuxian was with his uncle in disliking it even when it was necessary.
Though Jiang Cheng was kind of cool…
-
“This is,” Lan Qiren informed Cangse Sanren’s memorial tablet, “entirely your fault.”
Despite her son’s newfound demonic cultivation skills – or his taste for revenge: he had taken the burning of the Cloud Recesses very personally, and the attack on the Lotus Pier, and so on his best friend Jiang Cheng, very nearly as badly, and that, somehow, had inspired him in new and even more uncontrolled ways – there was no response from the grave.
And yet, somehow, Lan Qiren suspected that he could hear her laughing at him.
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Scary movies | p.p
pairing: Peter Parker x reader
summary: Some sudden changes make Peter afraid that he might've done something wrong, which pushes you to finally confess to your best friend
word count: 1k
a/n: this was part of someones writting challenge but I don't remember their username, still I hope you like it.
"so... Do you like scary movies?"
He said trying to drawn the akward but much needed silence with smalltalk after walking a considerable distance from the party I attended to, the music that came from the house that I just got out from some minutes ago was still audible and it amazed me the fact that noone called the cops yet. I looked at him, the dim light from the streetlight highlighted his features almost perfectly, his hair fighting against all of the products that he used to make it stay in place and his eyes that could be easily confused with hazelnuts, filled with sweetness.
"You should know by now." I tried to clean my face laughing off his awful attempt to start a conversation, if I had to be honest the night didn't went like I wanted it to be but it wasn't the worst either.
A broad smile was instantly placed on his face, any person who passed by us would notice it, I noticed it. The oversized orange bodysuit that I was wearing was now a bit stained with a drink from another girl and some long forgotten tears.
Everything felt peaceful now that I was besides him, like I used to when we were kids and I got in trouble so I 'ran out', small feet running through the hallway from our apartment to his, where I would nock and just seconds after his aunt opened the door I would ran to his room, seeking the comfort of his presence
I curled up into his arms, and felt his warmth on this October midnight, maybe spending my night at his house watching movies and drinking coffee like every other year was a better plan, and yes! Maybe I made a decision out of pure impulse and curiousity, but how could someone blame me when everybody at the school hallway talked about the huge Halloween parties that Flash threw and even more after for the first time a cute guy invited me to go out.
The curiousity part is almost unnecessary to explain, but the one thing that fuelled my impulsivity this time was the same reason why I did every other stupid thing that pushed me farther and farther from the inevitable truth for the last year or so, and it was trying to get my mind out of Peter Parker, ever since he told Ned and I about his feelings for Liz everything got so awkward, especially since Ned and Mj noticed my obvious feelings towards Parker, but he was oblivious to them, I finally started to move on a month after she left school because of the "incident", or at least that's what I tried to tell myself. See, love isn't how everyone (included some TV shows and absurd movies) says, it isn't always pink and beautiful, like, when the girl from the funny 90's romecom meets this guy at the school hallway and everything tells them that they are ment for eachother, no, sometimes it feels like an annoying thing that you carry around which drains you because, you are obviously in love with a guy that will never feel the same for you because he is one of your best friends and you just want what's best for him, even if it isn't you.
Now, after fighting with my friends because 'traditions are important' but so is opening up to new things, and being humiliated Infront of a large part of the school population I was walking to May's car, which was some blocks down the street so we could finally go and see some Halloween themed movies, with them.
"Y/n, can I ask you something? But you have to be really honest" he played with the hem of his sweater.
I didn't have to see it to know it, that is one of the many things he did when he was nervous and his voice tone gave it away.
"You already did" I passed a hand through my really messy y/h/c hair "but go ahead".
Our steps were slow, not wanting to get with May and Ned yet, so when he suddenly stopped walking I didn't immediately noticed, his stance suddenly changed from nervous to really serious which wasn't a good sign.
"What happened to you?" His hand reached out to mine.
"Isn't it obvious Pet-" I rolled my eyes ready to explain again the events of the party.
How everyone danced to the loud music, wearing their elaborated costumes, then someone pushing me to the sudden realization that the music had stopped and everyone was looking at me, and some girl yelled at me about the guy that had invited me to the party, a drink being thrown at me, someone holding back the girl and me running to the bathroom ready to call Ned.
"I'm not talking about today." He shook his head a bit, it was almost unnoticeable "I'm talking in general, you've seem off, distancing yourself and rambling about trying out new things"
He seemed melancholic and I didn't noticed when his hand left mine just feeling the coldness of his absence, I started to worry, I didn't mean to upset him and I also didn't know what to say.
"Is it that you don't want to be my friend anymore?" He finally said.
His words felt like a heavy stone that someone left to fall on top of me and crush me, it was working. I just wanted to go back in time and change everything, since the time that I decided to go and sit with the good looking guy that suddenly started to talk with me or the time that I wasn't able to go to Ned's birthday party because some girls persuaded me to go out with them.
"N-no! No, no, no, no... Pete I would never want to stop being your friend." I took both of his hands and we made eye contact "the truth is..."
"Yeah?" He was full with curiousity and some new shine in his eyes that I've never seen before made presence.
" T-that, that I like you!" I stumbled trough my words because fighting with your brain and your heart can sometimes blur out the message that you want to send.
Peter's mouth was agape and the shine was still there, but brighter, he took me between his arms into a warm hug filled with love.
"I like you two!! I've liked you for a while now and I was so scared at the thought of you leaving." He whisper near my ear.
"I don't ever want to leave you" I said with a dumb smile on my face.
I stepped back with my face lighted up and took his hand starting to walk, I didn't want him to look at me and how my cheeks where suddenly hot.
"Yes, I like scary movies" I said refering to the old topic which I got a laugh as response.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#spiderman#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#tom holland x reader#tom holland#peter parker oneshot#tom holland au#peter parker x you#peter parker fluff#tom holland fluff#tom holland one shot#peter parker x y/n#peter parker imagine#peter parker x stark!reader
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A Bard He Would A-Wooing Go (6858 words)
Gift for @valdomarx: some good old mutual pining morons. In which Jaskier courts Geralt and Geralt is oblivious. Ao3 link in title.
Jaskier wrote a song like counting; Counting the years, the steps, until one day he might count the seconds and centimeters of distance that seemed to stretch like oceans between them. Each of them were like marks on a calendar, an entry in a diary to mark the progress. At first, he hid his true intentions behind false names and romantic figures, crafting beautiful damsels for the recipients of his verses in the time when he was still uncertain, but when the depth of his love became apparent to himself, he decided the day had come to be more overt.
He sang of a beautiful man with hair kissed by moonlight, eyes of amber still hollowed with the liquid golden honey left to flow inside. This he played by the evening fire, casting shy glances at Geralt over the flames. “Do you like my new song?” he asked.
“You inflate my image enough already,” Geralt replied in his usual gruff manner. The idea was to make him a hero of monster-slaying, not the heroine of some romance. Jaskier’s verses were too pretty and flattering, bound to be laughed at by the public. Moonlight and honey—such descriptions were wasted on witchers.
Jaskier frowned and played the second verse a little louder, ignoring his response. “I would rather sing it below a balcony; perhaps the artistry of the setting would help better mold your opinion.” He took on a faraway, doe-eyed expression as he spoke, strumming the gentle melody. “I would weave a crown of clover and present it to you. Yes, I think that would suit you fine. You’d cut a majestic figure, lighted by the stars. I would pluck one from the heavens and offer it to you so that it might sit atop your head, the very jewel of the crown, so that all might better see how brightly you shine.”
“Your songs do enough as it is. No need to crown me,” Geralt scoffed. He was not some divine hero. He was a witcher working for pay, and it was crude work. “You romanticize everything too much.”
“Oh, what would you know of it? You haven’t got a romantic bone in your body.”
“First true thing you’ve said tonight.”
“The honey was more than true,” Jaskier huffed. He played the verse again, then stopped, something new glittering in his eye. It was an idea, Geralt recognized. He was far too familiar with that expression by now to mistake it, and he knew there would be a long, terrible enterprise awaiting him. Jaskier started to smile, and he took to his feet.
“Geralt of Rivia!” he proclaimed. “I’ve decided that this will not do. A simple song is not enough! Let it now be known that it is my intention, henceforth, to court you with all the trim, all the pomp, all the circumstance and bells and whistles! You must know the pleasures of romance in their many forms, and I will leave no stone unturned, no mountain unclimbed, until you have been thoroughly romanced!”
Geralt groaned and closed his eyes. He was not interested in a study of human courtship. He was especially uninterested in receiving such lessons from Jaskier of all people. Yet he knew there was no refusing once Jaskier set his mind to anything. Whether he wanted to or not, whatever protests he’d make, Jaskier would not be denied. The bastard would dig in his heels and get his way, and this—it was this game of his that would at last be the thing to kill Geralt. This farce would not be something Geralt’s heart would survive in one piece. He retired early, hoping the declaration would be forgotten in the morning if he gave no reaction. The slightest acknowledgement was all the encouragement Jaskier needed.
The next day, to his surprise, Jaskier was the first awake. He’d gone wandering in the woods before sunrise and returned with his arms laden with flowers. Geralt had awoken to the smell of the bouquet waved under his nose.
“Good morning, my dear witcher,” Jaskier said, grinning ear to ear. “Welcome to the first morning of the rest of your life! A humble offering, still wet with sweet morning dew.” He bobbed and placed the bouquet in Geralt’s hands with finesse before bounding over to relight the fire and begin their breakfast. To Geralt’s even greater surprise, there were five fish speared in the dirt beside it. Jaskier had gone fishing, it seemed. Flowers, fish—would there be a third gesture awaiting him so early in the morning? Or perhaps being first up was the gesture itself. Jaskier was not an early riser by any measure. Geralt might as well still be asleep as unbelievable as it was.
“So, you were serious about that courting thing,” Geralt said.
Jaskier waved his flints in the air dramatically. “Perfectly serious. Honestly, Geralt, you must have known this day would come.”
And Geralt had to admit, after several days spent with Jaskier giving lessons detailing the etiquette of the high courts, the more fashionable dances of the season, a history of the textile arts in which he explained how his doublets were made from the harvest of the fibers all the way through decorative pleating, and the proper forms of address for peers in no less than seven countries … yes, Geralt ought to have known that courting customs were next on the list of useless trivia Jaskier meant to impart.
At first, there was not much fuss and they were able to get on as usual. Geralt didn’t know what he expected in regards to a courtship from Jaskier, but what little thought he’d given the subject conjured images of endless smothering, Jaskier waxing poetic, arms waving dramatically, attaching himself at the hip of his hapless, adoring victim. But perhaps courtship was a one-a-day expression and that would be all until tomorrow.
He was wrong in multiple ways. Jaskier did not leap upon him with some obnoxious peacocking gesture, but he took it upon himself to pack camp after breakfast. Geralt watched him shuffle about, humming quietly. Jaskier had insisted Geralt stay out of the matter and sent him off to ready Roach. Camp packed, Jaskier tied their things to her saddle, and Geralt notice that he’d been careful to arrange the bags just as he himself might, the weight evenly distributed, potion bag furthest in front in easy reach, the rest in the order in which they’d need unpacking come evening. It was observant to say the least. Such a little thing, really, but Geralt was impressed.
“Ready?” Jaskier asked, offering Geralt his hand.
Geralt looked curiously at it, not sure what it was meant for. Jaskier was looking at him expectantly, and for an absurd moment, Geralt thought he wanted a tip like the men who kept Roach tended to in stables in town. At a loss, he shook Jaskier’s hand and turned to hook his foot in the stirrup. He startled when Jaskier took his hand again and helped him up over the side.
It was ridiculous. Geralt needed no help mounting. Yet … something about the action stuck with Geralt. It had been brief, but the way Jaskier had looked up at him as he held his hand, he looked almost as if he’d been about to kiss it.
Geralt wished he would.
After a while of travelling in companionable silence, Geralt inched his head to the side. He looked at Jaskier from the corner of his eye and asked, “What are your plans for this?” wondering just how well Jaskier had thought this silly game through.
“The courtship? Oh, flowers, sweets, dancing—the usual,” Jaskier replied with a careless wave of his hand. He played so casual, and yet Geralt saw the mischievous quirk of his lips. There was more. Jaskier was a great lover of surprises, both in giving and receiving.
Jaskier fiddled with one of his lute strings, running his nail up and down its length shyly. “I’m surprised you’ve accepted it without quarrel,” he said. “Thrilled, really. Not to imply that I’m blind to your reservations; I know how you must feel about the idea of formal courtship: a lot of fluff and unnecessary nonsense. But this is how I express my love, and it means a great deal to me that you would allow me to share the experience with you.”
“It’s not such a great burden,” Geralt replied, offering a light shrug.
Jaskier laughed. “No, indeed, I shouldn’t think so! It’s a gift—the greatest gift of all.”
Geralt snorted and argued that a new set of armour would be a much greater gift.
“Ever the pragmatist,” Jaskier sighed, smacking Geralt’s boot with a smile.
When they stopped for lunch, Jaskier offered his hand once more to help Geralt dismount. After eating, Geralt put his gloves quietly away in one of the bags, muttering to himself that is was a warm day, as if Jaskier might notice and wonder. And though the air had a leftover chill of early spring, when the time came to ride off again, his hand felt hot in Jaskier’s. Geralt soon forgot his gloves entirely, had misplaced them quite carelessly among his bags or on the road. But Jaskier never commented on their absence.
In addition to the attentions Jaskier lavished upon Geralt, Roach benefitted from a surge in care. Jaskier brushed her coat nearly every other day, and it was shinier than ever before. He braided wildflowers in her mane, styled each morning length by length. Afterwards, he would brush Geralt’s hair, braiding it to match. It was the most preposterous thing, and yet Geralt could not help feeling a silly sort of happiness. Jaskier had been feeling much bolder since the first day, and had even allowed himself to put flowers in Geralt’s braids. Geralt would wake to find them on his bedroll in the morning—Jaskier wasn’t as sneaky as he liked to imagine.
It was new, Jaskier brushing Geralt’s hair this way. He might comb Geralt’s hair after a bath or wrestle a brush through it when it had begun to resemble a feral rat’s nest, but now it was more regularly maintained. There was no excuse of necessity. Geralt could close his eyes and enjoy the moment, Jaskier’s gentle hands at work, sometimes simply scratching his scalp, the brush abandoned for minutes at a time. It was such a tender gesture, Geralt at times forgot that it was nothing more than a demonstration.
But oh, Jaskier went to such lengths so teach! He had Roach re-shoed in the city with fine new horseshoes, claiming that the shoes would clip and clop and ring out the song of his heart on every cobblestone, and that the gait of her stride itself would be a reminder of his devotion. And truly, as they walked her to the stables afterwards, Geralt heard their cheerful mocking with each step, “It’s all a game! It’s all a game!” He was glad to give her the day off to rest, and to avoid the clippity-clop of her bright new shoes.
Geralt tried to be objective. When they spent the evening at a tavern, listening to a local bard perform, he did not allow his thoughts to linger on the hand resting over his on the bench. Nor did he read into things when Jaskier asked him to dance. Dancing—the usual. It was one of the most basic aspects of courtship.
When they spun in and out of the formation on the dance floor, when Jaskier entwined their fingers, when Jaskier pulled them close together, Geralt tried in vain to blame his dizziness on the spinning steps. When someone tried to cut in for a quick romp with Jaskier, only for Jaskier to snatch Geralt’s waist again in rejection of the advance, Geralt did not let his thoughts linger on how pretty the young woman had been and how well Jaskier might look dancing with her, nor the thrill he’d felt in that instance of being so firmly chosen against such an enticing offer.
Though there were contracts to be fulfilled, Jaskier found ways to steal Geralt away for an hour or two here and there and between. He’d dragged Geralt along to see a play: something very modern and poetic. They paid for standing admission, the cheapest and, according to Jaskier, the very best way to appreciate the art up close. They talked throughout, joking with the other patrons and laughing at the worst bits in near-vicious mockery. Evidently, that was the only way to enjoy anything so poorly critiqued, and a step above throwing rotten fruit. He bought them a little parcel of candied nuts, and now and then they flicked a nut at the very worst actor for having every other line fed to him from offstage. They came away laughing with not a single guess as to what the play itself had been about.
The next week they were on the road again, and things were quieter. The city provided so many forms of entertainment, but Geralt liked it best when it was only the two of them, nestled in the calm of nature. Jaskier was lively, and the environment affected his mood. Out in the woods, his gestures were sweeter, smaller, and sentimental. Geralt enjoyed this gentler aspect of Jaskier’s courtship, for his method changed between the city and the road.
Away from the excitement and bustle, Jaskier expressed himself more subtly. As if by magic, ingredients for Geralt’s potion stock would be replenished after one of Jaskier’s morning walks. He did not make grand declarations or even show any signs of wishing to be acknowledged for the little things he did. He simply did them, waiting to catch Geralt’s smile.
“Here,” Jaskier said, tossing a coiled bit of leather at Geralt. It was a braided strap of cord, burnt black over the fire. “In your favorite gloomy color,” he teased. “Your old tie is a twist from falling apart; I thought you might like a new one to tie back your hair.”
Geralt smiled, and he was sure he’d begun to build muscle in his cheeks from how often that had happened now. He admired the tie, running his thumb over the pattern. Cautiously, he edged closer to Jaskier and handed it back to him. He turned around, offering Jaskier his back and whispered, “Would you fix it for me?”
At once, Jaskier’s hands were in his hair, swapping out the old tie for the new. When Geralt turned back around, Jaskier had the old tie fasted to his wrist, looking down at it with a gentle smile. His eyes flickered back up to Geralt, and that same shy expression softened his features from that day when he’d presented his new song. A new shine glinted in his eyes, a fresh spark that danced in the firelight. Geralt’s words of thanks died on his tongue at the sight of it. His eyes roamed Jaskier’s face, taking in the warmth of his gaze.
So loving. So deceptively close to genuine. What a fantastic actor Jaskier would make, Geralt thought. He even smelled happy. Like … vanilla. He leaned closer, breathing it in. By now he’d forgotten the smile in Jaskier’s eyes, forgot how long he’d ceased to study it. Now he’d been distracted by the smile on his lips, taking in their color, the shape of them. He wanted a better look. If he touched them, perhaps he’d learn what made them turn up the way they did—might know how much of their warmth was owed to the fire, how much was owed to Jaskier. He thought they’d come nearer now, and he could just make out the small lines in them. The scent of vanilla was stronger, sweeter, and he felt the touch of Jaskier’s hand brush his cheek.
Jaskier’s hands rose, curling back around his neck as he leaned forward. Geralt blinked rapidly, tilting his head a fraction to the side. His slow heart fluttered to life in his chest. Often he’d imagined what it might be like to be in this very moment. Once, he’d even had the pleasure of dreaming it, but living it was more unbelievable. That Jaskier might kiss him was unfathomable, yet he was here, his hands reaching out, his lips parting, the nearness of him overwhelming and gloriously true. Geralt had nearly closed his eyes when he felt a slight tug on his hair.
“There,” Jaskier said with satisfaction, pulling away. “It was a bit crooked.”
His hair. Jaskier had leaned forward to … to fix his hair.
Jaskier was up now, walking toward their bags. The wind of the motion sent a chill through Geralt and he slumped forward, feeling suddenly cold. He’d been on the flat of a mountain once, standing at the edge of a cliff, all the wide world below him. Looking down, he’d felt as if the world might swallow him up. The sky above was so clear, devoid of even clouds, and he felt he might fall into it if only to relieve the endless void. That was how Jaskier’s absence felt. The wind which had commanded the mountainside was but a puff of air compared to the waft of air left in Jaskier’s wake. Geralt turned like a dying flower turns toward the sun, longing after him.
The bedroll was made smooth beneath Jaskier’s attentive hands as he went about preparing to retire. Geralt sighed and watched, trying to remind himself again that he was reading too much between lines that were unwritten: lines like bars in a cell. His infatuation was unfounded, and this scheme of Jaskier’s to educate Geralt in the ways of courting was only fuel to the fire. What a pointless endeavour. When would Geralt ever use this knowledge? To aid Jaskier as he pursued his fancy of the month? To himself win the heart of some stranger?
Jaskier bowed playfully and motioned to the bedroll. “Your chariot awaits to carry you off into Slumberland, sweet prince of the night,” he announced. He held a blanket in his hands, his boots and doublet set by his pack. With a flourish he rose and waited for Geralt expectantly.
Geralt obediently removed his boots and crawled onto the bedding. Best to sleep and let the moment be forgotten by morning, start over with another day. He turned on his back, waited for Jaskier to cover him with the blanket, to finish his joke and set up his own roll to sleep. Instead, he found Jaskier flopped at his side, his arm flung over his chest, and the blanket wrapped around the two of them snugly.
“Goodnight, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered. His breath puffed against Geralt’s neck as Jaskier cuddled closer, hooking an ankle over Geralt’s leg. He settled comfortably on Geralt’s shoulder and closed his eyes, the most contented smile on his face. Geralt could hear his heartbeat slow down, even and rhythmic, lulling.
After some time, Geralt thought he’d gone to sleep. He cautiously shifted, rolling on his side to face him. Jaskier had long eyelashes, he discovered. This close, Geralt could see a number of faint freckles on his cheeks, the subtle wrinkles about his eyes. He rarely allowed himself to look when they were together at night, but lately that had become a temptation hard to resist. He looked now while he might steal a private minute or two without fear. There was one little hair poking out from Jaskier’s nose and Geralt chuckled to know how bothered Jaskier would be when he noticed it eventually. He reached a tentative hand out, resting it on the loose fabric of Jaskier’s chemise where it lay on the roll, too cowardly to reach out and touch Jaskier in spite of the arm Jaskier had around him. That alone was enough. That already was daring.
Geralt slowly closed his eyes, trying to lock away the memory of the moment. He opened them again for one last look as the fire died down. Jaskier seemed to shine in the afterglow and Geralt closed his eyes again so that he might trap the afterimage in the dark. Then, Jaskier shifted and there was a warmth pressed to Geralt’s forehead. A kiss goodnight.
Was Jaskier awake, or was he in a dream? Geralt’s fingers curled in a fist around the hem of Jaskier’s shirt, desperately wondering. The question plagued him as he felt himself slip away. He shuddered, the inches between them a frozen tundra, all his doubts denying him the feel of Jaskier’s warm embrace even as it wrapped tighter around him. His last thought before being claimed by sleep was a silent wish. He wished that tomorrow the game would end. And more secretly, he wished it would be replaced with something real.
The courting continued more enthusiastically than before. Jaskier broke from the conservative spending habits Geralt had instilled in him over the years. He did not skip about buying frou-frou delights for himself or wasteful fashions. No. When he loosened his purse strings, it was to buy an extra plate for Geralt at dinner. It was to stock the spices Geralt liked best and the preserves he would never indulge in on his own. Geralt did his best to object, but relented upon Jaskier’s insistence that, “It’s a part of the courtship! You cannot deny me this privilege!” And because Jaskier would not be denied, he even found a twisted paper package of caramels hidden away in his bag among the empty potion bottles.
Jaskier continued to cuddle up with Geralt even as spring gave way to the heat of summer. Geralt thought that the game would surely be over by now, but there was no end in sight. Jaskier kept finding more and more ways to surprise Geralt, and it seemed his knowledge of courtship was far more lengthy than Geralt might have ever anticipated. That such an affair could hold Jaskier’s attention for so long was incomprehensible, and with nothing in return. Geralt could understand continuing their study if Jaskier were courting someone in earnest all the while, or having one of his romps for a weekend when they were travelling, but Jaskier had not so much as looked at anyone since … Geralt could not remember the last time Jaskier had flirted with anyone. That made it so much easier to believe. And that made it so much harder to withstand.
Months passed. Jaskier’s courtship fluctuated. He was mainly reserved in his affections and things were not much changed from before they’d begun. There may have been more lingering touches, but those had always been there, since the day they’d met. Likely it was only that Geralt was more aware of them, looking for any sign, grasping at straws for a hint of truth, denying it whenever he found one in an act of self-preservation.
Occasionally the grander gestures would return, and Jaskier counted these as special days. He justified their indulgence by using the situation as evidence; usually these occasions fell on holidays or anniversaries of which Geralt had been unaware, and if they should happen upon a festival or event unaware, Jaskier would sweep Geralt along for an improvised day of fun.
“As with any courtship, one ought to take any opportunities to enjoy oneself as one may find,” Jaskier said, always happy to remind Geralt that the courtship was ongoing, no matter how many months had passed, as if he could not tire of such proclamations. “And what could be more memorable than a day together where all the world is colorful, all the people laughing? It’s so much more fun when everyone is having fun! You can pretend that all the world is right and perfect for one day: no monsters to fight, no prejudices to contend with, and no disdainful destiny pulling at strings. Just a day chasing whatever shining thing catches your eye, unplanned, unbridled joy!”
And truly those were days where it felt like anything might happen. Jaskier shined so brightly, dragging Geralt from booth to booth. They played horseshoes, tried their hand at throwing hatches and other games and tests of skill. One favorite event they’d come upon was a sort of artist’s exhibition in Oxenfurt. Jaskier had been invited to give a lecture on his composition process and he’d insisted on Geralt coming along. After his lecture, which Geralt had listened to attentively from the back of the room, they’d gone through the university and explored the other lectures and demonstrations.
There were great works on display: tapestries and steam-powered inventions, fastidiously cultivated plants with clippings and pressed blooms for sale; a perfumer gave samples of scented paper and described how the brewing was done, and a much better kind of brewing was explained by an artisan ale brewer who offered them small mugs of her product while they listened. Jaskier attended a workshop on embroidery. Fascinated by the practice after so many years of wearing finely embroidered clothes, he wished to learn a bit of handiwork himself. Meanwhile, Geralt was especially interested to watch the smelter, blacksmith, and silversmith at work, privately comparing their methods of crafting swords with those he’d studied in the keep. It was by far one of the more memorable days of the season.
Jaskier bought Geralt a small scrap of decoratively twisted iron from the blacksmith to keep as a reminder. It wasn’t useful for much apart from keeping away faeries, but he bought a strip of cord from the lecturing tanner and fashioned a charm for him, tying it to the sheath of his silver sword. Once more, Geralt chided him for wasting money on useless things, but he found himself smiling at the charm whenever he sat to sharpen his swords. Later on, Geralt had nearly lost it on a hunt and had lingered later after the kill, searching the rocky terrain until he found it.
By fall, Geralt had nearly forgotten Jaskier was courting him at all. It had become their new normal. He let himself indulge in Jaskier’s attention, taking a page from his book. Once in a while Jaskier would make some comment about their courtship to someone in a tavern when asked why he would be travelling with a witcher, and Geralt would remember and the heavy feeling would settle over him again, but the days were too busy and bright, so he soon forgot again. It was difficult to be sad long with Jaskier’s arm looped in his.
When they weren’t travelling, that is to say, when they spent a day or two in town on a contract, Jaskier had taken to spending time alone. He would spend a few hours in their room, or he’d be somewhere in town, a bag always at his side. He practiced his embroidery, following the sample patch he’d stitched at the exhibition. Sometimes he displayed his work proudly when Geralt passed, and other times he was quick to hide it in his bag. Once, Geralt overheard news in a pub that Jaskier had been present at a quilting bee, then the gossiping party fell to whispers when they saw the witcher approach. This was during the time when Jaskier was more frequently away, acting secretive and sneaking about.
The reason behind these mysterious disappearances was shortly unveiled by the end of the month when Jaskier presented Geralt with a new winter cloak. He held it proudly stretched in his hands. It was a dark blue wool. The hood and collar were embroidered with white and yellow flowers, framed by a curling green ivy. There were two metal clasps sewn on either side, and a close look revealed them to be buttercups.
“I made it myself,” Jaskier said, glowing with pride. “Well, all but the clasps. But I did design them—think of it as the signature on a great painting!” Before Geralt could take a breath to compliment his work, Jaskier swung the cloak around Geralt’s shoulders, adjusting it handsomely. “Good, it’s not too narrow. I was a little worried, but I thought if it fit me it ought to fit you fine. Had to make sure it was wide enough in the shoulder, so I measured your armour for a good estimate. Do you like it?”
Geralt blinked. “It’s for me?” he asked.
“Of course it is. Why else would I have been so secretive? I wanted to surprise you!”
Jaskier turned away, kneeling down to pull something from beneath their bed. There was only one—had only been one for a long time now. When Jaskier emerged, he had a large box in his hands. “And now to complete the ensemble,” he said cheerfully. He shoved the box in Geralt’s hands looking up at him in anticipation.
Struggling to process the enormity of the gift, Geralt opened the box mechanically. Inside was a pair of new black leather boots with heavy tread. Upon further inspection, he discovered they were lined with rabbit fur inside the cuff.
“There. Now you’ll be ready for the journey home this winter,” Jaskier declared. Then, just a twitch, there was something reserved in his expression—something that suggested gloom. He smiled through it and straightened Geralt’s hood, making it symmetrical. His hands remained a moment, poised on Geralt’s shoulders. He seemed hesitant. There he stood, looking up at Geralt, and he appeared to be holding his breath, waiting for something.
“Thank you,” Geralt said at last. He shook his head. “No, I … it’s more than that.” It was too much; he didn’t know how to express his gratitude.
Jaskier’s hands fell and he looked at the shining clasps, avoiding Geralt’s eyes. “Yes, well. You’re welcome to it,” he said.
“I’m not sure how I ought to thank you,” Geralt continued. It occurred to him that he could ask. That was the purpose of all of this: to educate him on courtship. Every good pupil asked questions. So he did ask. “How does one usually show their appreciation after receiving a courting gift? Should I reciprocate?”
Whatever cloud passed over Jaskier’s features faded and was replaced by a small smile. “Custom dictates that you should complement the handicraft and dress yourself immediately that I might admire you bedecked in my gifts,” he answered. “Go on then! On with the boots! And if you’re feeling especially gratified, you may accompany me to dinner and allow me to show you off in all your glory.”
Geralt snorted. “Long-winded way to say you’re hungry and broke.”
“Put on the boots, you ass; I’m paying for dinner.”
As soon as Geralt had his new boots on—and oh, how comfortable they were!—Jaskier twirled his finger in the air, made him turn and model. Geralt rolled his eyes but turned around graciously. Jaskier beamed and showered him with praise. He slipped on his own cloak, for it was a cold evening, and they left the little inn, headed toward the delicious smell of the pub and their dinner, following the welcoming glow of its windows down the cobbled street.
“Wait!” Jaskier cried, leaping in front of Geralt. He spread his arms wide and Geralt nearly crashed against his back. Geralt looked over his shoulder to see what danger caused Jaskier to halt in the middle of the road, only for Jaskier to sweep the warm cloak from his shoulders and drape it across a rather nasty, muddy puddle before them.
Geralt’s eyes went wide. It was a new cloak—Jaskier had bought it only a fortnight past. He’d carefully selected a cool green, saying it would remind him of spring when the winter made the world grey, and Geralt had seen him embroidering the collar of it in the evenings before bed. Jaskier had doted on it, and Geralt had never known Jaskier to wear a cloak. Ever. He was never on the road when the weather was cold enough to warrant one, always holing up in Oxenfurt or carving himself out a space in some court for the season. He’d taken such pride in the cloak, adding his own personal touches to it, making it quite his. He talked about it constantly, boasting that it would keep him thoroughly safe when the winter chill set in, that he might climb the most icy, terrible mountain and feel as though he were snuggled up by the fireside.
That was the straw to break his back at last.
“What are you doing? That will never wash out,” Geralt scolded.
Jaskier bowed dramatically and rose with a charming shrug. “What burden is a bit of mud, my dear? I’ll not have your new boots so soon sullied on their first venture. If I allowed that, what kind of suitor would I be?” He chuckled and pressed a chaste, teasing kiss to Geralt’s cheek.
Geralt flinched away, heart leaping into his throat. “You’ve taken this too far!” he cried.
“Geralt, I assure you, the fabric is perfectly sensible and there’ll be no stain. I specifically chose it for wearing on the road.” He looked at Geralt, picking at the end of the cloak still draped in his hands. He kept his tone teasing and light, but there was a nervous edge to it he tried to hide behind a laugh. “Come now,” he said, “don’t let my gesture go in vain; I was trying so very hard to be suave.”
“No. It’s not just the cloak,” Geralt hissed. “This whole charade! I—!” Geralt fisted his hands in the thick fabric of his cloak. He turned his head away, grit his teeth. “I’m calling it off, Jaskier. I can’t tolerate one more day of this game.”
“What game?” Jaskier asked. The false cheer left him. Honest worry furrowed his brow as he lifted the wet cloak once more from the puddle, clutching it as a child might cling to a blanket.
“This courtship. It has to stop.”
Jaskier turned pale. He trembled, though no breeze swept through the air. When he spoke, his voice trembled in kind, and he looked at Geralt with anxious eyes. “If this is about the winter,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry for being pushy. You’re not ready—I can wait. But we can move slower if that’s the issue, and I can give you your space until spring, just like every year.” His hands twisted in the cloak and he held it closer to his chest. “But I thought you wanted … you agreed to the courtship. And we were headed east together. It’s coming on winter, so I thought … And you’re not one for words …” he trailed. “I don’t understand what’s changed. Just this morning we—”
“This morning, you didn’t kiss me!” Geralt snapped. “I can hold your hand, I can dance with you and listen to your pet names, I can accept your gifts and gestures in an effort to understand your customs. I know you want to teach me about courtship. It’s important to you—or entertaining. But I can’t abide being kissed! Not as part of some lesson.”
Geralt’s eyes felt hot and there was a strange hollow in the pit of his stomach. “Not if it doesn’t mean anything,” he concluded. He couldn’t look Jaskier in the eye for fear of the understanding he’d find there. What pity or disgust would he see when the realization hit? What horrible expression would he find twisting Jaskier’s expression when he finally understood that his best friend, an emotionless, beastly, taciturn witcher, was in love with him?
“Oh,” Jaskier whispered.
There it was. Geralt’s head hung low. He silently braced himself. This was the part where Jaskier would let him down gently. Or he might make an awkward joke and pretend he didn’t understand, brushing it all aside and moving on as always. Geralt wasn’t sure which would be worse. He wished Jaskier would simply leave and he wouldn’t have to suffer either one.
“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered. Geralt heard the splash as Jaskier dropped his cloak once more to the ground. And suddenly there were warm hands cradling his face. “My darling,” Jaskier said, “let me be perfectly clear. No, no, don’t look away—you’ve got to look at me and listen very carefully to what I say. This isn’t a game. I’m not playing at romance with you. I’m not trying to teach you anything either. No games, no jokes, no tricks.”
Jaskier pulled Geralt closer, forced him to meet his eyes. Geralt looked at last and saw nothing but raw sincerity staring back. “This is real,” Jaskier said. “All of it. Since that day I stood and swore to court you and win your heart. Every action and effort I made was in earnest.”
Geralt felt the grounding touch of Jaskier’s thumb stroking his cheek. His heart remained in his throat, still uncertain, but it beat with a fragile hope. “What does it mean then?” he asked.
Jaskier sighed, resting their foreheads together. “It means I love you,” he answered.
Geralt closed his eyes. He felt such a fool. Slowly, he brought his hands up to cover Jaskier’s, pressing them more firmly against his skin. The touch felt new. It had a weight to it now, and he felt lighter than ever before, needed their anchor to keep from drifting away.
Jaskier loved him.
“How does a happy courtship end?” Geralt asked, though he did not wish for it to end so soon, now that he’d learned it was real. He was inclined to start over again and do it properly, no shadows or clouds to hang over them.
Jaskier let out a last nervous breath and smiled. “With marriage,” he said. “Eventually. But I think that may be a bit too soon for us.”
“Then before that.”
“Generally, the first stage ends with a kiss. I think that’s about right for where we are.”
“And … will you kiss me?” Geralt asked, opening his eyes again. He looked into Jaskier’s deep blue irises, and for once he could examine them as much as he liked, he realized. So he stared, taking in every brown freckle, every fleck of gold however small, looking as he never allowed himself to before. With satisfaction, he watched Jaskier’s pupils widen. He was sure he looked much the same.
Jaskier chuckled, pulling Geralt’s hands down and cradling them in his own. “Me?” he asked playfully. “Oh no, my dear; I did the wooing. The stage ends when you take the reciprocating action and encourage me to continue. Therefore it is you who must kiss me. If you like.”
“And if I do?”
“Then by all means,” Jaskier prompted. “Kiss me!”
Geralt tilted his head to the side, no more hesitation, and pressed their lips together in a gentle embrace. Just one short, reverent kiss: the fruition of his longing. It was not studied—was even a bit skewed from lack of practice. But it was freeing. He leaned back again as they parted, and he felt Jaskier leaning forward after him. Geralt smiled, his heart fluttering with a joy he never thought he’d know. This felt right. Felt wonderful. And now the tension was gone and he had nothing left to fear with Jaskier’s hands so tightly clasping his.
“So. What comes in the next stage of courtship?”
“Another kiss, certainly,” Jaskier said, stepping forward in an attempt to close the distance.
Geralt stepped back, a cheeky smile rising to his lips. “I’m fresh out,” he teased.
“Goodness me!” Jaskier gasped theatrically, and he was grinning right back. “Thankfully, I have one spare! Many, in fact, if you’d like them.”
“I would.”
“But, ah! I’m not so cheap as that!” Jaskier cried in retribution. If Geralt would refuse him another kiss, Jaskier would make him earn the next. “I must be wooed first, Geralt of Rivia. It’s your turn, I did say, and I’ll have you know I expect a great deal after all the work I put in. Rides on Roach, dinners cooked for me, breakfasts, embarrassingly poor poetry; then there’s the matter of you holding my hand when I ask, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to bed in the evening, fresh flowers, foot massages, the—”
Geralt stepped forward again and silenced Jaskier’s rambling with another kiss, smiling through it too hard to make good on the act. He laughed, tucking his face against Jaskier’s jaw as he tried to compose himself long enough to see it through, then he was kissing Jaskier’s jaw and cheek, his eyes, everything within reach as the giddy feeling rose from his chest, laughing all the while as though he would never stop.
Jaskier laughed and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. “Yes, and as many of those as you can afford,” he chuckled. “You were holding out on me, you old tight-purse.”
Geralt pulled away enough to look Jaskier in the eye. “If I promise to woo you later, would you please just shut up and kiss me now?” he asked.
Jaskier huffed and regarded Geralt with sarcastic affection. “Someone has got to teach you about romance,” he said.
#witcher#the witcher#witcher fic#geraskier#jaskier#geralt of rivia#my fic#a bard he would a-wooing go fic#gift fic#gotta love some mutual dumbassery
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Life Changing Field Trip
*part of the Fire Lililes series
pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader
warnings: heavy angst, lots of tears, fluff, 3.6k words in length so it’s a doozy
notes: it’s finally here! I’ve had so much fun writing this piece and I hope you enjoy
summary: “You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”
“You can’t just show up like that, give me a location, and then not tell me why or where I’m going,” you grumble to the moon as you load your bags onto Appa’s saddle. You’re not sure how long you’ll be gone or how far you’ll be traveling, but’s it better to be prepared.
Your bending had dwindled ever since Zuko’s arrival, and no amount of training or meditation ever seemed to help you get back on track. Zuko was a part of your team now, and you hadn’t forgiven him yet, not by a long shot, but you had been good about keeping your rage and your fury locked away inside of you. Scaring Zuko off and creating unnecessary tension wouldn’t help Aang with his fire bending, and so you kept to yourself and avoided the boy at all costs. When he entered a room you exited, if he tried to start a conversation you gifted him your silence as a response, and when he tried to apologize or chase after you you’d freeze his feet to the floor. It was simple and effective and, unlike your water bending, it worked.
But Zuko wasn’t the only obstacle in your life, and you knew you had to figure out your bending issue soon before the comet arrived. Your struggle must have been great enough to draw attention from the spiritual realm, because sure enough that night you were visited by the Moon Spirit in your sleep.
Even in your dream-like state your first instinct upon seeing her was to fetch Sokka, but she made it clear that she didn’t have much time. She gave you a location and stressed the urgency of your arrival to the coordinates. She gave no real explanation and no real direction, just some weird proverb like piece of advice that you were too tired and too dense to understand.
“You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”
You weren’t sure what exactly Princess Yue meant by that or how it would help you, and for a fleeting moment you wished Iroh were there to help you understand; all you really knew was that there was no time to waste. Whatever this location was and whatever importance it held, you were going, and nothing was going to stop you.
“What are you doing?”
Okay, maybe someone was going to stop you.
“It’s none of your business,” you retort harshly, glaring at Zuko who stands before you with bead head and drowsiness present upon his features. “Go back to sleep.”
“Y/n, come on,” Zuko begs earnestly. “You really expect me to just go back to bed when you’re about to sneak off with Appa in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, I do. Now go,” you scowl whilst settling yourself in the saddle and taking hold of the reigns. Your gaze is fixed straight ahead, but you make no move to go. It’s almost as if something is holding you back from leaving Zuko behind, anchoring you to him in a way that makes you nervous.
“Let me come with you.”
“I have to do this by myself. You wouldn’t understand, you never have,” you argue.
“Then let me try to,” Zuko pleads. “Princess, you’re the only one who hasn’t forgiven me yet. Neither of us can be happy until we at least try to fix it.”
A tense silence washes over the two of you as you mull over Zuko’s words. Princess Yue’s voice echoes in the back of your mind: You cannot bend something that is broken. Your resistance to mend your broken bond only seemed to make things worse for the both of you. You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t bend, you couldn’t feel at peace with yourself knowing that each day you pushed him away only led to more heartache. Your stubbornness and your pride kept you from accepting his apologies, but your heart cried out to you every time you found yourself missing him, and that was often.
It seemed your decision was made up for you before you were even able to decide it yourself.
“Fine. But I’m in charge, and just because I’m letting you come doesn’t mean we’re friends now,” you answer sternly, your tough exterior crumbling slightly at the sight of Zuko’s hopeful smile. Curse him and his stupid charm.
“Thank you,” he breathes in relief before climbing onto Appa’s back and settling down amongst the many bags of food you packed. A gentle utterance of the words yip yip and you’re off into the skies, truly alone with Zuko for the first time since Ba Sing Se before everything fell apart.
The stars twinkle brilliantly as they watch over your little group in the sky, the night breeze gently flowing through your loose locks and sending your sweet scent straight to Zuko’s senses. Despite being Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, you always smelled of fire lilies. You were sweet and warm and familiar, and being close enough to smell the scent of lilies reminded the prince of your nights together in Ba Sing Se. He had been a fool to throw it all away.
“So where are we going?” He asks finally to break the silence. Without turning to face him you toss your map over your shoulder for him to see. ”The Earth Kingdom? This spot isn’t even marked on a regular map. Why?”
“The Moon Spirit came to me in a dream and gave me those coordinates so that’s where I’m going.”
“The Moon Spirit? Wasn’t she a Princess?” Zuko asks, recalling the story Sokka had told him on their way to the Boiling Rock.
“Of the Northern Water Tribe,” you nod, and before you can stop yourself an admission tumbles past your lips. “You know, I almost left you during the Siege of the North.”
“What?”
“I was homesick and lonely, and you were always occupied with hunting the Avatar. When I saw what the Princess did to save her people I soon felt guilty too. Yue sacrificed her own life, her own happiness, to help her people, and what did I do? I ran away with the boy who was trying to destroy the world’s only hope for peace among Nations. But my love for you overcame my guilt, and so I stayed.”
“Wow...” Zuko murmurs in astonishment. “I didn’t know...”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know,” you grumble, immediately closing yourself off again. Zuko sighs sinking further into the saddle, and the scent of fire lilies consumes him.
After three tense hours of flying Appa begins to tire, and you’re left with no choice but to stop for the night and rest. There’s probably only four hours of darkness remaining until sunrise, so you’ll be able to get a decent amount of sleep before you have to resume your travels. You say nothing to Zuko as you roll out your sleeping bag and immediately tuck yourself in for the night. However, due to the cool and frigid air, you find that you’re much to cold to be comfortable, and so you toss and turn for a good ten minutes.
“Cold?” Zuko asks gently.
“No, I just like to shiver in my sleeping bag for fun,” you retort sarcastically, and Zuko rolls his eyes. A small huff of air falls past your lips and it takes you a minute to muster up the will to apologize. “Sorry,” you grumble. “I’m very cold and tired.”
“Would you like me to help?” He offers carefully. A beat passes before he hears the sound of you shuffling around and pulling back the covers of your sleeping bag.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” you point out firmly, and the Prince bites back a smile as he crawls in beside you. Already you can feel the warmth that radiates off of his body, and you can’t stop the little sigh of contentment that escapes you when Zuko wraps his arms around your trembling figure and brings you into his chest.
“Better?”
“Much,” you hum softly, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you try to soak up as much heat as you can.
You hate to admit it, but you really missed being in Zuko’s embrace. He was warm and safe, and it reminded you of the times before when you had still been together. During the first few weeks of your separation you had struggled to fall asleep, not used to being on your own and definitely not used to the absence of warmth that often slept beside you. Sometimes you’d wonder if Zuko also lied awake at night seeking your comfort, but your anger was quick to remind you that he was the one who had left you in the first place. It was Zuko who made you second priority to the Avatar, and it was Zuko who chose to turn against you in Ba Sing Se. Shivers tingle down your spine, and this time it isn’t the cold that has you trembling. He betrayed you once, and he could betray you again.
Zuko falls fast asleep with you in his embrace, but you find that you can’t sleep at all.
~~~
The snowfall is light outside as you anxiously sit through your healing class, constantly glancing towards the doorway in hopes of spotting a Fire Nation ship. The Fire Lord was due for another visit today, and that meant you’d get to spend the day with Prince Zuko.
“Princess, pay attention,” the healer chides, and you sheepishly turn your gaze back to the old woman before you.
“Water is a powerful tool for benders, used to hurt and to heal,” she explains. “Water benders fight to protect themselves and those around them. Soldiers with this gift learn how to use their power to defend our home. But these same soldiers cannot use the bending they would use in a fight to heal a wound.“
The little girls around her watch in awe as the water in her palms glows a gentle hue. She smiles, gracefully swirling the water through the air.
“A rough hand will only bring more pain and heartache. But a gentle hand? A gentle hand can mend even the deepest of wounds. As healers you must remember this: You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”
You wake slowly, eyes gradually adjusting to the sunlight that shines against your fatigued face. The ground underneath you has been replaced by the leather of Appa’s saddle, and you find yourself warmly wrapped in Zuko’s cloak. The boy in question is seated at the reigns, navigating his way through the clouds and towards the abandoned colony.
“Zuko?” You yawn, catching the prince’s attention. He smiles faintly at the sight of you sleepily wrapping his cloak tighter around your form.
“Good morning,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you but I know how important it is that we get to the Earth Kingdom as soon as possible. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I... I guess I don’t,” you mumble as you rub the sleep from your eyes before digging into your bag for some breakfast.
“We should be there in about an hour.”
You only nod, looking down at the peach in your hand contemplatively. What awaits you at the abandoned colony? Will it help you regain your bending? Will you like what you find?
The journey goes by quickly when you’re lost in your thoughts, and before you even realize it Appa has landed on the ground and Zuko is helping you off the saddle.
“Good boy, Appa,” you murmur affectionately, gently combing your fingers through his fur as you feed him an entire bag of fruit. “You can stay here for now.”
Leaving the flying bison behind Zuko and yourself walk the rest of the way, finally stumbling upon the exact location the Moon Spirit had given you: a cave entrance.
“Spirits, not another cave,” you groan, and from beside you Zuko blushes in uncomfortable embarrassment. With a heavy sigh you grab Zuko’s wrist and give it a shake until he gets the message, a small flame igniting in the palm of his hand. Holding onto his arm as if he’s your personal torch, you begin your descent through the cave. This better be good.
Unlike your secret tunnel, there’s nothing seemingly special about this cave. It’s dark and dirty not romantic whatsoever, which you figure is good because this isn’t a romantic trip anyway. You’re here per Princess Yue’s instructions only and nothing else, and if Zuko doesn’t like it you have no problem freezing his feet to the floor for what will probably be the thousandth time.
“What do you think you’ll find?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m hoping that whatever it is, it‘ll help my bending,” you murmur thoughtfully.
“Maybe we’ll find another secret tunnel,” Zuko jokes with a quiet laugh that immediately fizzles out at your unamused glare. “Sorry.”
“I doubt that stupid tunnel is even there anymore,” you grumble.
“It is... I checked,” the boy murmurs thoughtfully, causing you to halt in your tracks.
“What?”
“When I returned home from Ba Sing Se I went to Elza’s end of the tunnel and found it still intact. I knew there was no way you’d be there, but I traveled to our meeting point and stayed there,” he confesses quietly, eyes soft and apologetic as they turn to face you. You shift uncomfortably under his gaze and look forward, continuing your pace through the tunnel. “I’m really sorry for how much I’ve hurt you, y/n.”
“Why did you do it?” You question. Your voice is weak and frail and your eyes glisten with tears, and Zuko doesn’t think his heart can hurt any more than it does now. “After everything we’d been through and everything we’d accomplished together, why would you betray me like that? I loved you Zuko.”
“I-“
“And then to betray Iroh? Your own flesh and blood?”
“I know it was wrong, and I wish I could take everything back. I never stopped thinking about you y/n. Even when I was with Mai, all I could see was your face in the cave looking at me with disappointment and-“
“Wait a minute, who’s Mai?” You retort, pulling away from the fire bender to look up at him with furrowed brows. Zuko’s face flushes and immediate regret fills him at having mentioned the girl.
“I umm.. After we broke up, I kind of started seeing someone else,” he admits sheepishly whilst nervously grasping at the back of his neck. The sight of your complete rage and fury makes him wish he was being swallowed whole by an unagi instead of having to face an angry Princess.
“I can’t believe you!” You cry in outrage. “I spent weeks crying over you and you just moved on to another girl like nothing!”
“She didn’t mean anything, I promise-“
“I don’t want to hear it, get away from me!” You demand, picking up your pace to try and get away from him as quickly as you can, but Zuko is hot on your heels.
“Princess, please!” You try to freeze his feet to the floor and let out a frustrated growl as your bending fails you yet again. “Just let me explain!”
“No! I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen!” You command, angrily jabbing a finger at his chest. “I left my people, my family, for you. When you pushed me aside on your hunt for the Avatar, I stayed even though I was unhappy. I stood by you despite all the mean and cruel things you did because I knew deep in my heart that you were still the same Prince I fell in love with. And when we got to Ba Sing Se I thought we could finally have the life we had planned together. Working in your uncle’s tea shop, taking walks through the upper ring at night, being able to enjoy myself without having to worry about what terrible thing you’d do next made me the happiest I’d ever been.”
“And then you threw it all away. For what? Honor? Approval from the man who abused you? Using my bending against you was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my entire life, yet you seemed to have no problem with fighting me the minute Azula asked you to. I knew then that you weren’t Zuko, not the Zuko I fell in love with.”
Tears steadily stream down both of your faces, your throat is raw and sore from yelling but you don’t care. You’re angry, you’re upset, you’re hurt, and you’re afraid of the emotions festering inside of you. But you also feel good, like a weight is slowly being lifted off of you.
“And then to hear you moved on to someone else so quick as if I meant nothing to you?!”
“I’m sorry,” Zuko offers weakly.
“You betrayed me, you broke my trust, you broke my heart, but no matter how hard I try I can’t bring myself to hate you because I love you Zuko! Despite it all I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone, and when I think about where we came from and where we are now I-I just...”
You burst into a fit of tears and welcome Zuko’s comforting arms that wrap around your figure and squeeze you so tightly to his chest. Your shoulders shake with each sob that falls past your lips, your hands clutch tightly at the fabric of his robes, and you bury your face into his chest to muffle your sobs. The boy says nothing for a long time, only holding you and soothing you to the best of his abilities as you let out all of your hurt, anger, and sorrow.
“I’m sorry I never realized how special you were and how much I truly needed you. Nothing I say can ever undo the hurt I’ve caused you, but I’ll do anything to show you just how much you mean to me. I love you y/n, you’re my other half. Uncle always said our love was a balance of yin and yang, and he was right.” You watch through your tears as Zuko takes both of your hands in his own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Please, Princess.”
You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you gaze up at Zuko’a pleading gaze. The tricky proverb comes to mind again, only this time it isn’t as tricky. Ever since Zuko joined the Gaang you’d done everything in your power to keep him away to protect yourself, but it only made your heartbreak worse. Defensive maneuvers wouldn’t ease your pain, but offensive would. You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt. The water bender in you wanted to push him out, but the healer inside of you knew that this moment in the cave was exactly what you needed to finally feel okay again.
Without responding, you simply lean up and press your lips against Zuko’s in a loving kiss. His hands come to rest upon your tear stained cheeks as he bring you closer, kissing you so desperately it’s almost as if he’ll die if he doesn’t have his lips upon yours. The tunnel around you begins to glow, but you don’t realize this until after you’ve pulled away from each other. A tearful smile graces your lips and Zuko finds himself swooping in for another quick kiss.
“I know why the Moon Spirit sent us here,” you sniffle. “I know where we are now.”
“You do?”
“When I was younger my mother would threaten to send me to the cave of truths whenever I told a lie. It was a magical cave said to not only pull out the most personal truths of anyone who set foot inside but also grant them a lesson in exchange for their truth. My truth was my love for you, Zuko, and I learned that shutting you out is never going to fix things. Only by letting you in again, by allowing you the chance to redeem yourself, will we be able to fix our broken hearts.”
With a gentle smile, you pull the droplets of water from the air that surrounds you and swirl them gently in the palm of your hand until they freeze into snowflakes. Zuko watches in awe as the snow takes the shape of a butterfly, its wings flapping elegantly as it lands on the tip of his nose.
“My bending is back.” Zuko smiles.
“And so are you.”
~~~
The Gaang is waiting for you when you return, astonished at the sight of your intertwined hands and happy smiles on your features.
“What happened to you two?” Suki asks.
“Life changing field trip,” you reply with a simple shrug, smiling as Zuko wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“Aw man, you guys are giving me the oogies,” Sokka groans only for Katara to elbow his side.
“What changed?” Aang asks, prompting you and Zuko to exchange glances.
“Our relationship has a really good track record with secret tunnels,” you giggle.
“We’re both ready to start over,” Zuko says. “It’s going to take some time for things to be normal again, but we’ll get there.”
“I’m really happy for you guys,” Katara smiles gently.
“Yeah, I was getting kind of sick of the two of you moping around,” Toph grins, and you can’t help but return the smile.
You’ve got a long journey of healing ahead of you, but with Zuko finally back by your side you know you can accomplish anything.
| tags: @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @multi-fandomstan @eridanuswave @royahllty @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @kittenthekat1234567890 @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @coldlilheart @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 |
#zuko#zuko x reader#zuko imagine#prince zuko#prince zuko x reader#prince zuko imagine#princess reader#atla#atla x reader#avatar the last airbender#forbidden lovers au#fire lilies#secret tunnel#life changing field trip!
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someone behind me was tracing my steps / maybe you’re better off this way
Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki
Characters: Asakura Takeshi, Kido Shinji
Songs: "After the Fall," October Project & "Passive," A Perfect Circle (playlist here)
Takeshi’s sitting against the wall, bleeding out, and the mirror guy—Kanzaki, right—is standing over him, mouth twisted in something he vaguely recognizes as dismay. “I can’t use this, there’s barely any energy left,” he says, not to Takeshi, and there sure as hell isn’t anyone else in the room. “I’ll have to reset.”
“Hang on a second.” Takeshi coughs and feels his mouth fill up with the taste of copper, which isn’t such a bad flavor when you get down to it. “What about my wish?”
Kanzaki doesn’t even look at him, already fucking around with the mirror. “You don’t want anything, there’s no point.”
“Sure I want something.”
“…what on Earth could you want at this point? It’s all going to be reset anyway.”
Takeshi grins up at him, knowing that it’s sure to be an unnerving sight with his teeth all over blood. “Lemme remember.”
“Out of the question. Giving one participant unnecessary foreknowledge would interfere with the procedure.”
“Nah, nah, I’m not gonna interfere with shit. It was just a hell of a time.” Takeshi looks up just as Kanzaki is looking down and grins his bloody grin a little wider. “I like to remember times when I had fun. Looking forward to doing it over again. Let me remember.”
---
It’s not until he graduates university that Shinji realizes that he’s missing something.
Slightly after, really. He graduates, he works some shitty part-time gigs, he does some freelancing, and then Ookubo gets in touch and offers him a job at Ore Journal. That’s all fine, but when he steps through the door of the Ore offices he’s hit with a wave of déjà vu so powerful that he nearly trips and falls face-first into Reiko’s desk. Fortunately he catches himself before anyone notices. It had been bad enough trying to explain to his mother about the girl who lived in his mirror when he was thirteen; he can’t imagine how the people here would react to, “I remember walking into this room for the first time at least eight times over.”
He gets a grip on himself, but the feeling of loss stays. He’s missing something, and he doesn’t know what. Sometimes he’ll get a glimpse of it, he’ll pass someone on the street or overhear a snatch of conversation and a fragment of memory will overwhelm him, but he never gets everything.
From the bits that he sees, he’s not sure that he wants to get everything. It might be better to be missing something than to remember.
---
Takeshi’s known that he’s missing something for a long time now, and whatever it is, he wants it back.
He’s not exactly an educated guy, but he knows himself pretty well, and the idea that there’s a big chunk of him missing is galling. He can feel its absence. He can’t tell what it is, it hasn’t got any kind of useful shape, no edges that he can detect, but it’s his. And since he wouldn’t just go carving out part of himself, that means he’s been robbed.
He doesn’t take kindly to being robbed.
Mostly, though, he can ignore it, the way you ignore a hole in the wall that you don’t feel like repairing yet. He does what he likes, gets what he wants, eats when there’s food, and doesn’t think about it unless he reaches for something in his mind and finds that it isn’t there.
And then he sees the journalist.
Some sweet-faced kid, he is, showing up at a bar that Takeshi likes and bugging the regulars about a local ghost story that Takeshi knows for a fact is bullshit. He doesn’t try coming over to Takeshi’s corner, because the bartender visibly warns him off, but he’s talking to everyone else. That suits Takeshi fine. He can just sit with his drink and watch and remember, in shards and splinters, tantalizing and incomplete.
Kido Shinji is what’s printed on the business card he swipes from the bartender once the journalist leaves, with the address of a tea shop written on the back in pen.
Now there’s a name that rings a bell.
He stares down at the card for a moment, not sure whether he’s pleased or furious, and then heads out. Guy couldn’t have gone far.
---
Shinji gets through the door and is immediately handed an apron and a bandana for his hair. “Dishes.”
“What—Ren, I just got here.”
“Yeah, and there are dirty dishes. I don’t have time to deal with them, there are customers.” Ren squints at him for a moment, frowning. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”
Shinji pauses in the middle of tying back his hair, uneasy. “I’ll tell you once there aren’t customers. Where’s Miyu—he’s still working, ok.”
Ren rolls his eyes. “Apparently that middle schooler who was here last week told all of her friends about him, he’s been busy all day.”
There are a lot of dishes piled up, and it keeps Shinji busy until Ren’s shooing out the last customers of the day. Atori’s different without the old lady, but it’s not a bad different; hopefully she’s happy in whatever warm place she moved to after she sold the shop to Ren. She’d certainly never seemed happy here.
He’s happy here. In a stable place, with a little bit of stable work apart from Ore, with people who inexplicably love him for reasons that none of them quite remember clearly.
When the last customer is out the door, Ren leans back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, and says, “So something’s bothering you, spit it out.”
Shinji frowns down into the dishwater. “I think someone was following me again today.”
“What, again? How long’s this been going on now, two weeks?”
“Three and a half. Ever since that thing I was looking into about the ghost, do you remember that one?” One saucer in the dish rack, start washing the next piece. “Maybe I pissed off the ghost.”
“You said there wasn’t a ghost.”
“Well, yeah, but what if there was and now it’s following me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not being chased by a ghost.”
Shinji glances nervously over his shoulder, as if he’ll see his ghost reflected in the tea shop window. “How can we be sure, though?” He picks up another dirty cup and starts to wash it. “Some of the things I remember…”
Ren’s arms wrap around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. “They aren’t here,” more softly and gently than he usually speaks. “No ghosts. Just you, me, and Miyuki.”
“No ghosts.” Shinji takes a deep breath. “You’re right. No ghosts.”
---
The place isn’t tough to break into. Decent locks, but nothing Takeshi can’t get past with a crowbar. He lets himself in and looks around the vaguely-familiar tea shop with interest before heading past the counter and to the back. Stairs lead up to the apartment above, and sure, they creak a little, but that’s nothing to worry about. After all, he’s still got the crowbar if he really needs it.
Upstairs, the place is chaotic in sort of a cute way, decorated as it is by three people with clearly pretty different sensibilities, fragments of three very different lives on display. It smells faintly of frying oil, too. Someone made something good for dinner tonight. On a whim, he checks the fridge, finds a container of leftover gyoza, and eats them absently as he contemplates the shopping list stuck to the freezer door. Eggs, rice, sliced pork belly, in neat handwriting that definitely isn’t Kido’s.
He finishes the gyoza and the tail-end of a carton of milk, leaving the empty containers behind on the counter and picking up his crowbar again as he heads toward the back of the apartment.
There are three bedrooms, and none of them are marked, doors closed against the darkened hallway. Checking each one would be a hassle, and might lead to more trouble than Takeshi feels like getting in right now. Instead he just remembers how jumpy Kido seemed even before Takeshi started following him and lets intuition lead him to the room closest to the fire escape.
The door swings open, and the first thing he sees is a cloth square on the wall. A covered mirror.
There we go.
Kido’s asleep, sprawled across the bed with his head tossed back and his hair spread out on his pillow, throat pale and exposed. Alone, which makes things a little easier. There’s a computer desk set up in the corner of the room; Takeshi grabs the chair from it, drags it over next to the bed, and sits, resting the end of the crowbar on the floor as he’s saying, softly and cheerfully, “Hey, Kido. Wake up.”
A shift, an irritated mumble, “Not time to—” and then one eye opening halfway and the jolt, Kido scrambling upright in the bed, one hand flung out to the side reaching for something that isn’t there.
What isn’t there?
Splinters reform into another regained memory: a deck of cards in an elaborate case, gleaming purple metal smooth and cool in Takeshi’s hands. There’s a name that goes with it, or maybe more than one, faint and still lost but centimeters from the tip of his tongue.
Kido’s gone white as a pan of milk, hand still empty because they’re in a world with no decks, now, no monsters that Takeshi suddenly remembers with fondness, not nearly as much fun, and Takeshi leans forward on his crowbar and smiles, friendly, like, and says, “Come on, Kido, I remember you being more interesting.”
---
Shinji can hear his heart beating over the ringing in his ears. There’s a bit of light coming in from between the mostly-closed curtains, just enough to see by, and with his hand coming up empty and his unwelcome guest illuminated so that only golden hair and white teeth are visible, he is assailed by memory.
He knows this man.
From the corner of the bar where he’d been looking into that ghost story, sure, the one the bartender had told him not to bother, but also from before, from ten befores or more. A killer, vicious and cheerfully so, dangerous to be around, but beneath the adrenaline thrum Shinji can feel another pulse, pity, pity, pity, perhaps misplaced but still there.
He fights to get his breathing under control and says, “Asakura. What are you doing here?”
“You took something of mine.” Asakura’s head tilts slowly to the side, semi-friendly grin still visibly. “I came to get it back.”
“I don’t have anything of yours.”
“Never said you did. I said you took it. Didn’t say I thought you had it.”
“That…you know that doesn’t make sense, right?”
“None of this makes sense, Kido. We live in a world that revolves around a guy like you.” Asakura leans forward, one hand darting out to grab Shinji’s chin, ragged nails digging into his skin. In the dim light his eyes are flat and dark and predatory as their gazes lock, only taking on any gleam as he drinks in…something, whatever he’s getting from looking at Shinji like this. Shinji nearly asks, in fact, but he can’t quite speak, and anyway Asakura’s talking again, still as cheery and conversational as he has been. “Used to be, I got the deck in my hands and I’d remember all of it. That was the deal. Don’t know how the mirror guy finally bit it, but whatever happened, you’re the key to everything now.”
Shinji’s considering shouting for Ren, because even if he did have a dragon at his beck and call, the mirror is covered. Then, of course, he notices the crowbar. And Asakura continues to look at him, searching for something that Shinji is apparently giving him.
“Pathetic.” Abruptly, Asakura lets go again. “You used to be fun, Kido.” He stands, shouldering the crowbar like a baseball bat, and heads for the open bedroom door, only pausing briefly to say, “Call me if you ever decide to get the band back together, yeah?”
Shinji remains frozen for what seems like a long time after he’s gone, dizzy with memory and his heartbeat noisy in his own ears.
He doesn’t remember the end of things. None of the ends of things, actually, and he’s not sure if the others know that it happened more than once, how many times they were put through the same wringer. Whatever it was, though, whatever he or they finally did, it was permanent.
He never would have expected someone to resent him for it.
Finally he finds the focus to move, raising a hand to rub at the sore spots on his jaw before getting out of bed.
Miyuki’s bed is disturbed by unoccupied, and this fills him with a banked and indistinct dread until he comes to Ren’s room and finds them both there, Miyuki sprawled as inelegantly as always and snoring lightly at Ren’s side. Ren is awake, barely. “Bad dreams all around tonight, I guess,” he slurs as Shinji closes the door, and moves over to make space. “Wha’ was yours about?”
Shinji curls up beside him and says, softly, “Just ghosts.”
---
Takeshi strolls down the middle of the empty street, crowbar on his shoulder, in such a good mood now that he’s very nearly whistling. It’s a damp night; the streetlights make shadows in the fog that look like old friends he now remembers, any number of enormous beasts stalking him as he walks. Which makes him want to laugh, and so he laughs, and the sound bounces off the buildings and the fog in an echo that could go on forever.
“Goddamn,” he says to a fog-reflection that shifts and changes with every step he takes, now a vast snake, now a rhino, now a stingray. “That was a good time, wasn’t it.”
The fog makes no reply, but the shadow continues to follow him down the street as the echoes of his laughter die away, and after a moment, feeling almost jaunty, he starts to whistle.
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On the Cusp
Dina wakes up alone. Once downstairs, the scene that greets her is far from the aggression her mind prepared her for. [ao3]
Tags: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Fluff, Family Time
Rating: General
EllieDina Week // Day 2 // DAWN
---
Dina wakes up coughing.
A tickle in her throat disturbs her sleep for the third time this week after finding her throat dried up during the night from sleeping with her mouth open. With blurry eyes and a groggy mind, she reaches for the glass of water on the bedside table for a quick drink.
When Dina’s coughs started becoming a nightly occurrence, Ellie made a point to leave a fresh glass of water for her at bedtime. Though the gesture was sweet, Dina initially thought it completely unnecessary.
“I just have to close my mouth shut or something, maybe we can tape it?” she had said.
“It’s just water, Babe,” Ellie shrugged, “what if a spider crawls in your mouth? You’d need water to wash it down with.”
Dina cringes at the thought of a spider making its way into her open mouth in her sleep. She lightly jabs her wife by the shoulder for the unwelcome image that assaulted her thoughts.
“Ow! What was that for?” Ellie winces.
“That’s for not making me feel better,” Dina grumbles.
She knows she’s being ridiculous, but she had never had a problem with breathing in her sleep before. Is one of things people had to endure when they reached their mid-twenties? Do people slowly lose control of their bodies, including not being able to close one’s mouth in their sleep?
“You have that Old Lady worried look in your eyes again,” Dina looks up. Years into their relationship and she still found with Ellie’s ability to know exactly what she’s thinking surprising. Ellie continues, “I read in a book that if you sleep with your mouth open, it just means you’re very relaxed. So, it’s a good thing. Not an ageing thing.”
“Did you really?” Dina asks hopeful.
Ellie shrinks on her spot and admits, “Ok, I just made that up. But it was convincing enough to make you feel better for a second, right?”
Dina struggles to fight the smile that forms on her lips. Instead, she stands on the tips on her toes to kiss her wife on the cheek and says, “I would have socked you again if you weren’t so adorable, you know.”
From that moment on, Dina began to sleep with a fresh glass of water on her bedside table.
After taking a couple sips of water, she turns around to face Ellie, only to find that the spot empty. Dina finally notices that the sheets had been wrapped around her body, like she was a burrito ready to be served for breakfast. Dina pats the vacant side of the bed a little shocked to feel how it felt under her palm.
How long has Ellie been up for?
Dina glances up at the clock in order to figure out the time, but her eyes are still blurry with sleep, and the room is still a bit too dark to see anything clearly, anyway. The darkness implies she had woken up in the nighttime, but the faint chirps of a few birds would say otherwise. A quick look out the window confirms her assumptions. It’s too early to be morning, and too bright to still be the middle of the night.
It must be dawn, or maybe just on the cusp of it.
Her wife’s absence mixed with the peculiar time of the day leaves Dina with an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. It’s been months since Ellie’s last nightmare, but she had woken Dina up that time. They spent the night talking, cuddling, and reassuring one another of their safety. It was always an unspoken rule of theirs, to wake the other when they had nightmares. So, what was different this time that Ellie couldn’t wake Dina up?
Dina shrugs the sheets aside, gets up, and envelopes herself in the sweater she leaves hanging on the hook next to their bed. Her feet dab the cold floor in search of the slippers she wears in the house.
A thud and the sound of muffled voices coming from the room below halts Dina’s search for the slippers. A slew of anxious thoughts floods her mind. Was there an intruder? Is Ellie in danger?
Dina grabs the bat she hides under the bed and rushes out of the room to make her way to the downstairs living area of the house. She was ready to attack whoever had decided to trespass her home and endanger her family at the break of dawn. Dina may have been out of patrol rotations for a few years, but she had always been up for a fight if it meant she was protecting her family.
Once downstairs, the scene that greets her is far from the aggression her mind prepared her for. The sigh of relief that leaves her is unheard by the two adorable dorks playing in the living room.
What she finds instead is her wife on her hands and knees with their son on riding her back. JJ is wearing Joel’s old jacket—now a beloved family heirloom— but after only ever seeing Ellie wear it for all his life, the little boy would argue that the jacket only ever belonged to his mom.
His small body is completely swimming in the oversized coat, making him look more like a small monkey in a cape than a small boy in an adult-sized jacket. A dark green beanie is atop his head, this one is new, Ellie found it at the trading store a mere two weeks ago. The cold weather prompted this new addition in her clothing after Dina persuaded her to get something warmer to wear on her head.
They had a long debate with about how Ellie’s cowboy hat Maria had gifted her would not be enough to keep her warm in the harsh Wyoming winter. Ellie yielded and wore the beanie in place of the cowboy hat for the winter.
Dina found the little pout on her wife’s face as the cutest thing to happen in the mornings when Ellie begrudgingly placed the hat on her head before leaving for work. She thought nothing would top that until she saw their son’s little brown eyes fighting to peek against the loose hat on his head. He kept one had tightly gripping Ellie’s shirt, while the other tried to keep the hat in place for him to see around him.
There’s a loud youthful squeal when JJ’s eyes land on Dina.
“What are you two doing up so early?” Dina eyes Ellie clearly directing the question to her.
“Mama! Mama, look!” JJ exclaims before Ellie could say anything, “guess who I am?”
Dina smiles, sits cross-legged on the floor, and says, “who are you, Spud?”
“I’m Mom, duh!” he smacks Ellie on the side causing her wife to grunt audibly, “and this is Japan!”
“Oh, you nailed it bud, you look just like your Mom on days when she’s too tired to dress properly.”
“Hey! I’m right here,” Ellie declared.
Dina fakes a loud gasp, “did you hear that, Spud? I think Japan just spoke English!”
JJ slowly falls off of Ellie’s back in a wild fit of giggles. Ellie takes this moment to stretch her legs on the floor and leans into Dina’s open arms. They sit quietly, watching as their son calms down from his high.
“You’re silly, Mama. Japan is a horse, he can’t talk. That was Mom talking.” JJ explains, before rushing out of the room, “I have to go potty!” and their son was gone in a flash, little footsteps fading toward the bathroom.
“So, Japan…” Dina starts, earning a smirk from Ellie who is currently laying comfortably on the floor with her head resting on her wife’s lap, “why are you and Spud up at the crack of dawn?”
Ellie sighs and whispers, “Little Man had a rough night. He woke me up and you were sleeping peacefully so, we decided to come hang out down here instead.”
Dina hums in understanding. She kisses the top of Ellie’s head and offers an idea that pops in her head, “why don’t we go watch the sun rise, then?”
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The Party
Hope everyone's having a great holiday season so far! This time of year isn't always easy but thankfully friends and a good distraction can make things easier.
I drew these pic’s to pair with a moderately long fic I wrote to follow up the aforementioned party from earlier, it’s below the the cut! Read it if you want! Either way, Happy Holidays! 💜💚💛
Words: 4,142 Relationships: Harlivy /Harley & Joker friendship / Batjokes (mentioned) Universe: Mine / Lego Batman
A/N: sorry for any typos or weird grammatical stuff, I'm good at art, not writing
Summary: Joker’s felt a little down since Batman’s been out of town, will his best friend Harley be able to cheer him up?
Warnings: Alcohol use, implied depression
_____________________
"C'mon Jay it'll be be fun!" Cheered Harley, mustering all the enthusiasm she could in an attempt to persuade Gotham's former clown prince of crime to pull himself together
"I don't care!…. Go bother your girlfriend or something. Leave me alone…" He was currently piled under several layers of blankets, sunk deep into the ball pit he called a bed
"Nuh uh, I'm not haulin' my butt outta this room 'till you haul yours. You can stay in that pit and cry all ya like, but it won't fix nothin', you gott-"
"I don't GOTTA do anything!" Jay snapped. Throwing his blanket aside and revealing his less than kempt appearance, his face twisted into a frustrated glare
Harley, already familiar with Jay's usual harmless outbursts only sighed as she looked her long time friend up and down, taking in his surroundings with a curious eye
It'd been a month or two since Batman left the scene and his absence was definitely beginning to take a toll on the poor clown.
She could tell it'd been a while since he'd done anything to care for himself…. His hair, which was usually swept back into a flawless green pomp, lazily draped his face. The dull forest black of his roots beginning to seep back into the rest of it. Same could be said for the state his room which, due to his erratic nature, was always a bit untidy but had recently fallen into a state of near disrepair. Bags of half eaten junk food and empty bottles of all sorts of things lay strewn across the floor, particularly around his half deflated bed.
Despite the mess, he still seemed a little...thin… more so than usual to be honest… his ribs visible beneath the loose shirt he wore, arms comparable to sticks despite the muscle.
most of all though, he just seemed... tired. Jay always looked tired out of makeup. It was one of the first things she'd managed to take note of when he'd first entered her office years ago…. But right now the purple rings beneath his eyes that never seemed to go away were deepened to a point that made it clear he wasn't getting much sleep or doing much for himself in general...
Seeing her best friend in a state like this was hard to witness… and although her partner, Ivy, didn't have much but mild disdain for Jay, Harley couldn't find it in herself to leave him like this… which is why she thought a party might lift his spirits a little
"C'mooon! You love parties!! It'll just be a small one anyway!" It was actually much bigger than she was implying but Jay liked big and she didn't wanna scare him off too soon…
"Yeah, like that'll make things any better… who did you even invite?? A good half of the rogues don't even like me…"
"Sure they do!"
Jay only looked at her, bereft and unimpressed.
"I mean ok you and Riddler don't always get along and it took a lot a beggin' ta get ya un-banned from the iceberg lounge but still!!"
"Uhg whatever! It doesn't matter! I don't need those bozos seein' me like this anyway..."
"Like what?"
"I don't know! I'm just…... I'm not in the right… mood for something like that right now.... You know how this works… they'd see right through me. "
Back when Jay was still her patient they'd end up talking a lot about masks…Batman's would come up more often than not but every now and then he'd end up discussing his own…. Or more specifically, the metaphorical one he'd put on every time he picked up a brush and painted himself a new face…..
"Jay, sweetie… you don't have to pretend to be okay… they won't think you're weak or nothin', you know that right?..."
Jay gave her an incredibly tired look before turning away.
"What happened to the Jay that wasn't afraid to let people know how he's feelin' huh? The one that turned every emotion into a show….?"
He kept his head down, shoulders stiff, before speaking...
"....Cause I'm not just sad this time…. " As he looked up slowly an emotion that was rarely seen on the mans face showed itself, flooding his eyes.
"W- when I'd talked to Robin and Batgirl that last time and asked about Batman they gave each other this look and…. Something's wrong… he's in trouble or something I… I can feel it….. W-what if he doesn't come back and he leaves me here all alone an-"
Harley put a polished nail up to Jay's lips and smiled warmly.
"Shhhh…. You're worryin' too much puds… ur big dumb brain is just an overdramatic liar… don't listen to it okay?"
Jay sniffled, giving her an understanding nod.
"You still got me an' your crew an' Bud and all the other little silly things that make ya days good doncha?"
He smiles halfheartedly. "Y-yeah…. But still… he was..."
"I know… he's special….but do you seriously think anything out there could actually kill Batman? THE Batman? C'mon now…. He's luckier than any bastard out there and you know it…"
"Yeah…. Yeah I guess ur right"
"Of COURSE I'm right!… now come on…" she offers her hand and helps her friend stand up. "Let's get that hair done and those nails shined up so you're brain can take a break from making all those nasty thoughts"
Jay smiled a little wider this time, forever grateful he had a friend as great as Harley around… he really didn't know what he'd do without her sometimes...
"Right…. Also… uh…. Harley?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for….uh…. Bein'... around… I guess…" Jay practically mumbled...
Harley smiled knowingly, amused with his poor attempt of gratitude
"No problem, Pud's….." she gave him a peck on the forehead leaving a black smudge behind
"now enough mush...Let's clean this mess and get ya fabbed up"
________________
A few hours later, Jay stood outside the titular iceberg lounge in his best winter fit, a long boa around his shoulders and a pair of unnecessary sunglasses obscuring the mascara he'd only half ruined on the way there….
He truly, honestly, did not feel like socializing with anyone at the moment, but who was he to refuse a doctor's orders?....
Taking a deep breath of the cold winter air, Jay stiffened up, smoothed the wrinkles from his vintage memphis style sweater and entered the lounge, heels high and head high as he could manage
____________
When the doors swung open with a swirl of winter snow, Jay was greeted by a surprisingly full and stunningly silent room. Christmas music cut through the tension like a knife as everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Joker's fashionably late arrival.
He didn't know if it was because of his natural ability to demand attention or the fact that he hadn't been seen in nearly 3 weeks, but for some reason the room seemed slightly on edge. worried he'd come with another Joker brand surprise perhaps. Thankfully, Harley, who'd left his place a little earlier to get everything ready, noticed who'd finally arrived.
"JJ!! YOU MADE IT!!" she leaped off her stool and came running to grab him, The rest of the room taking it as a cue to un-tense and to go back to their festivities, the lounge lighting up with warm greetings and laughter.
" Hey…" said Jay as Harley put an arm around his shoulder and escorted him to the booth she was sitting at….
"So… is all of this for me or…?"
"No, did she tell you that?" Ivy who was sitting at the booth with his other less than fond acquaintance, Catwoman and someone else he didn't seem to recognize, gave a snide smile, Jay suddenly felt he should probably sit someplace else
"IVY!! SHHH" Harley shushed
"What? He was gonna find out out eventually…. It was supposed to be Penguin's annual winter ball"
"Uh,It still is tho…?" said Kat, mouth full of shrimp
"Well, yah…. Difference is we had to 'finesse' Penguin into letting HIM in" Ivy explained, disdain in her voice
"And you... helped with that?..." asked Jay, surprised. Ivy sighed
"for Harley's sake, yes. not yours"
Jay smiled, amused. "well how charitable of you, here's to hoping you won't regret it"
Ivy rolled her eyes. "As if I don't already" she said, taking a short sip from her drink, Harley sitting down next to her give her thank u peck on the cheek.
"Hey, why'd you get banned from this dump anyway?" Asked Kat, eyes squinting curiously
"I have no idea…." Jay shrugged
"He put a coke and mento bomb in the fountain!" Harley interrupted
"Oh yeah…." He'd totally forgot
"Ha! Awesome…"
"Right uh, anyway, who the hell are you?" Jays attention suddenly turned to the woman sitting opposite of kat. She had light blue skin, bright white eyes and hair that made her look like a human lighting rod.
"Name's Livewire." She said, voice sharp as her appearance
"She's from Metropolis" explained Ivy. Jay rose a brow.
"Metropolis huh?? How'dya like dealin' with boy scout full time over there?" He quizzed
"Sweet!…" she exclaimed enthusiastically "Big blue aint got a thing on me! 'sides, dweeb's been outta town for months now! metropolis might as well be my personal playground"
The mentioning of Superman's absence made something in Jay's chest twist. He'd known their neighbor hero had been MIA for even longer than Batman, Supergirl taking over the workload just like Batgirl had in Gotham. but still… the reminder was enough to worry him. I mean… if superman was taking so much time up there, what chance did Batman have against whatever it was they were so busy with??
Trying his best to shake off the uneasiness building in his stomach Jay took a breath and snapped back to reality, offering Livewire his hand
"Well, uh... Livewire, i'm this city's head honcho while the bat's gone so welcome to Gotham and try not to wear it out"
Harley and Ivy exchanged looks as Jay smiled slyly and took Livewires hand…
...Only for his usual gesture of hospitality to be met with an equally shocking grip that sent blue sparks flying in every direction.
"DAMN, what the- !! " Jay yanked his hand back and held it in pain, hot needles running up his arm.The new addition to Harley's crew laughed crudely and smiled
"why do you think they call me 'LIVEWIRE' genius?"
Jay stayed silent with defeat as the table went up in hysterics "Yeah fine, okay, I shoulda saw that one coming" he sighed and smoothed out his hair which had sprung up to stand on end, his face ever so slightly red "anyway, you ladies have a nice time… i'll set up shop somewhere else and let you guys… idk… flirt with each other or whatever..." without much fanfare he slunk off to sit someplace else.
After the table had settled down completely though, Harley noticed Jay making his way to the bar looking somewhat dejected.
"Aw Jay…."
The rest curiously turned their attention to the direction of Harley's gaze.
"You're not going after him are you?" Asked Ivy after a beat.
"Well… yeah…?" Harley shrugged.
"Uhm, why?" Asked kat, dipping more shrimp into her cocktail "like if he's not in the mood for a joke that's kinda his problem…?"
"Yeah, but still…. I've never seen 'im like this for so long…. He's usually so funny and animated, it's like somethin' drained all the life out of 'im…." The concern on Harley's face was very apparent. Ivy brushed back a few strands of her hair and tried her best to reassure her.
"Look i'm sure he'll get his second wind when Batman comes back at some point… but ‘til then it's not your job to take care of him…"
Harley sighed silently. "I know but… he's still my best friend… and if I hadn't met him, I wouldn'ta met you!" She squished close to her spouse with a smile, Ivy suddenly unable to hold back a small one herself.
"He helped me outta my slump all those years ago, least I can do is help 'im outta his..."
Ivy gave her a soft look before reluctantly caving "Kindness has always been your best and worst trait, silly bee…" she said with a smirk "fine, go ahead and do your thing, I've got plenty of company over here in the meantime…"
Harley smiled happily and gave her one last kiss before running off to join Jay at the bar.
____________
Jay sat alone at the bar in silence until he was suddenly startled by Harley's arrival.
"What's shakin' grumpy gills?" She asked pulling up a stool.
Jay didn't answer as the bartender slid over a funfetti martini topped with the works, Jay lazily catching it and drinking deeply.
"Those guys didn't get ta ya did they? I know they seem mean bu- "
"Ah… I don't care about them…" said Jay dismissively "we're all villains here right? I'm sure they got their reasons… sides, Livewire's pretty fun even if she did fry my Joy buzzer" He said regretfully…
"So what's up then…?" Asked Harley, head tilted
Jay looked down at the table with a frown, fingers anxiously scraping the side of the glass in his hand….
"What she'd said about metropolis…. And… superman…."
"Oh…" Harley nodded "well…. I'm sure they're together wherever they are…. Right? Him and Batman? And I mean, with Superman around, he's bound to be okay….."
Jay had a hard time matching her enthusiasm but that logic did comfort him some. "Yeah… yeah I guess so"
"C'mon Jay, you gotta get that stuff off your mind for a minute! Go mingle! Go dance!… look at everyone who came this time! Turn-out's never been so big!"
As Jay's looked around the room, Harley did have a point, usually these get-togethers only managed to scrounge up about half the gang, but it looked like almost all the rogues in town had come this time. Even D-listers like Polkadot man, Killer Moth, Crazy Quilt ect. Had managed to show up, plus people he didn't seem to recognize…
For example at the bar sat Scarecrow and a… Oddly scruffy looking man he looked to be sharing a drink with. He'd heard from Riddler over the phone some time ago that crow had found himself a friend and that the two were "in cahoots". whatever that was supposed to mean. He supposed that must've been the "friend" in question…
A few tables down sat another unfamiliar in a polkadot shirt and a pair of cracked thick lensed glasses. He had a peculiar looking puppet sitting on his lap which made J raise a brow, but he didn't judge. Looking at his woefully nervous face he guessed it must it must've been a security thing anyway…
Despite the big crowd though, Jay did notice one person missing of whom he hadn't seen in quite a while...
"Yeah I guess everyone is here... except uh, Lex I guess…?" Jay considered himself friends with metropolises king of corruption, even if the feeling wasn't always mutual. Seeing so many crooks he knew in one place made him realize how rare it was to see the mal hearted mogul at these things.
Unfortunately, Harley could only shrug with defeat. "Ah I tried to get Lex but you know how he is… nobody's seen that shut in for ages".
Jay's eyes narrowed at that "How long is ages…. ?" He pressed
"I dunno… a few months guess??? Livewire said he's been quiet lately, probably off in one of his labs making some over convoluted instrument of destruction I guess"
The growing list of missing big shots was beginning to piece something together in Jay's head… what on earth was Lex up to? Where was superman?? Why did the league need Batman's help? How did it all connect?? After a moment Harley noticed Jay slipping into his thoughts again and shook his shoulder lightly to pull him out of it.
"Hey, don't worry about that egghead. he'd only kill the mood if he were here anyway"
Jay couldn't disagree, the billionaire was kind of notorious for being a giant stick in the mud.
"If you're really worried about what's goin' on with those guys, you can come up with a plan Tomorrow…. right now we got a' open dance floor, unlimited drinks and a Karaoke competition that's about ta kick off in ten"
The word 'Karaoke' was enough to snap Jay back to reality. "Did you say Karaoke?"
"Yes, I did."
"Do they hav-"
"Yes, they have Queen"
Jay nearly looked as if someone had told him the best news of his life. "Oh thank god" maybe Harley was right. Worrying would have to wait.
_____________
The rest of the night went on with few hang ups. Drinks poured, music played and poorly screeched lyrics kept the mood upbeat.
The Karaoke stage hosted performance after performance, some more enthusiastic than others. Some painful, others surprisingly pleasant. Jay's teetered off the edge of both categories, but when "somebody to love" burst through those speakers, he'd sung it with his whole chest. The best performance by a long shot though had to be Ivy's who's affinity for 50's ballads lent to her beautifully rich voice and her's was closely followed by the Dent's who'd decided to attempt a duet with no chorus which everyone found somewhat impressive.
Emotions did flare up once or twice though, as they tend to do when it comes to villain gatherings. Ed and Jay got into a fight about something stupid and unimportant, both obviously enjoying themselves, Bane and Croc engaged in an arm wrestle that woefully ended in a tie, and Jay inevitably got worked up about Batman again, this time with a crowd of eager listeners somewhat entertained by his rambling, giving questionable advice here and there.
At the get-together's height, the dance floor had filled to the point where Penguin was just about ready to call the whole event off until Riddler dragged him on to the floor himself.
After another hour or so the party wound down some more and the night devolved into quiet discussions between friends, everyone either ready to leave or half asleep. Eventually Jay and Two-face of all people were left alone. Once Ed, Crow, Hatter and the rest had gone home.
Jay always liked Harv, for someone known for his temper he seemed to have a lot of patience and Jay found both of his selves uniquely interesting in their own ways. Harvey the "handsome" one was always very nice, easily flustered, and had a sadness in his eyes that was hard to ignore. "Dent", the one famous for all those 2 themed crimes, was a bold individual and one of the most brutally honest people he knew. That night though, even he seemed a little sad. He admitted later that it was because it'd been a while since he'd gotten to talk to his old pal Bruce, someone Jay was mildly familiar with of course, and they spent the rest of the night discussing Batman and wayne and how they seemed so similar until it really was time to head home.
sometime after midnight, long after everyone had either left or found someplace to pass out, Harley broke up with her girl gang again to come get Jay who'd fallen asleep in an empty booth.
"Wake up clown" she said loudly, nudging him a bit. Jay giggled quietly in response, turning over after a moment and opening his eyes.
"Oohh what's up??"
"Time to go."
"Aw…" Jay huffed disappointedly, then did his best to sit up straight, his head slowly spinning as he did so "ah jeeze…"
"Don't worry I called one of your guys, he's waiting outside." She explained "I dragged you here, might as well drag you home"
"You did that for me?" Jay smiled "That's so nice…."
"Mhm" carefully, she took his hand got him to his feet, doing her best to keep him up straight. As they headed out they met up with Ivy at the door
"Taking pennywise home?" She asked
"It'll only take a minute" Harley assured
"Alright… don't take too long…" she turned to leave but before she could, Jay suddenly spoke up.
"H-hey, Wait!"
Ivy turned around, brow raised "You have something to say to me?"
"Uh… yeah? I mean… sort of? I just, uh… wanted to say i'm sorry for… messing up your garden all those times…."
Ivy blinked "Why are you telling me this now?"
"I just thought you shud kno…. And that um…. Maybe you'd hate me…. A little less... if I said sorry for once..." the frown on Jays face was absolutely pitiful, Ivy could only roll her eyes.
"I don't hate you… Joker"
"Oh?"
"I just think you're annoying…."
"Oh…." Jay couldn't really tell if that was any better but at the moment he was too drunk to care. "Okay…"
With that ivy turned around to join Kat and Livewire
"Thanks for the apology though I suppose…Take care of yourself…. And, Harley don't take too long… it's only 1:00am we still have plans."
"Don't worry Ive's i'll catch up."
after one last look, Ivy went back on her way and Harley continued walking J to his car.
As they went Jay hummed to himself, swaying slightly, until a certain thought made him go quiet again.
"....Harley….?" He asked suddenly.
"Yeah, J?"
"Am I a bad friend?" The question just as out of the blue as his apology to Ivy….
Harley looked at him, concerned "Why do ya ask?"
"I just…. Please?" He pleaded. Harley hesitated for a long moment but decided being honest was probably best.
" not exactly but… maybe sometimes"
"Hm…" Jay decided he'd have to work on that
"But I also know ya don't really wanna hurt anybody…. That you try your best everyday ta make people happy and that you've been through just as much any of us…. A few mean comments an' dumb pranks ain't gonna make anybody think you're the devil or somethin'….not me or any of the other guys... "
Jay had to smile at that, Harley always had something smart or nice to say no matter what. still, her answer only made him feel worse about how he'd been earlier when she was just trying to help… he really, honestly, didn't deserve her…. But the least he could do was let her know he was glad to have her...
"Harley…?"
"Yeah, J…"
"Thanks for being really, really great all the time… and… y'know… around… " Harley smiled as she secured his arm around her shoulders.
"Thanks J..."
"also sorry for sucking sometimes..."
She sighed. "It's fine Jay…."
carefully, she hauled his ragdolling body a few more feet and shoved him into the back seat of his car. J grunting as his head hit the leather seat.
"Now go home an' try not to get lost on your way to the door" She said sternly. Jay gave her a lazy wink and a pair of wobbly finger guns.
"Gotcha."
with that,Harley slammed the door shut and the J-Mobile's engine roared to life. One his lackeys sitting in the driver's seat.
"Where to boss? HQ?"
"Yup… ah, sorry t' call ya out so late…"
"S'alright boss…. Don't worry about it"
As the car lurched forward, street lights shining in through the windows as snow fell ever so lightly over Gotham like a dusting of fresh powdered sugar, Jay did inevitably start thinking about Batman again, wondering when he'd come back, desperately wishing he knew anything about where he was right now….
The thoughts were hard to ignore and when he got home he knew he'd be surrounded by the same walls he'd spent the last month trapped with them in…. even so, the world felt a little less washed out than it had before he left, and it wasn't just because of the alcohol swirling in his blood.
He may not have had Batman... But today reminded him he wasn't alone.
He had friends… real friends… In a way he'd always considered them such… but deep down there was always doubt. I mean sure he got along better with some than others, but after knowing people so long he shouldn't have been so dumb to think they hated him as much as he thought they did.
When you're a villain in Gotham sometimes all you have are other weirdos in the same boat as you to help keep you and everyone else afloat. People need people in more ways than one… and as Jay drifted off to sleep in the back of his gaudy getaway vehicle, laying in a position that was just barely comfortable, he pushed his worries aside and made sure that was something he'd never let himself forget.
~ End ~
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I don’t think I’ll ever get to humorously commentate on KH2 piece-by-piece as I tried to do for the first two games (and god knows if I’ll wrap up Re:chain of Memories with the writing method I was doing, but I digress.) I like talking about this endearingly dumb series and replaying this game is a nice opportunity to revisit how I feel now versus how I felt back when I was a fresh-out-of-high-school Neo playing this game for the first time back in 2005.
So I’m going to surmise my current play session (this collects my thoughts up to the Hercules world) with easily containable bullet points.
*I kind of want to make a separate post about the infamous prologue and discuss how people felt Back in the Days (an understatement, let me tell ya), and ultimately what I feel it does for the game and whether I personally liked it, so I'm going to leave that in the back burner for the time.
I will say Twilight Town sounds like a nice, quiet place to live. I love the concept of a city that's always perpetually sunset. It's a beautiful place and like Traverse Town, sports an amazingly cozy soundtrack.
*I'm sure there's some bullshit reason why, but I don't get why Sora's one year absence meant some of the people he's met just....forgot him. Like why? What purpose does this serve? This especially affected Kairi, but it’s ultimately negligible because she regains her memories of him during the beginning portions of the game.
Was this Namine's doing? Was it to protect Sora from the bad guys or something? Why hasn't Riku forgotten him? Was Namine just selective on who she erased Sora's existence from? Did Kairi forget just because she’s connected to Namine? Or Sora? What purpose does this narrative serve? What was the point?
*Speaking of, I forgot, did they ever explain why Riku disguised himself as Ansem? I don’t remember if they ever explained it when I played through this game, but also I haven’t touched KHII in six thousand years, so I don’t remember a lot of the more convoluted parts of the plot.
*It is comical to see Setzer of Final Fantasy VI fame turn from a risky, gambling sky pirate who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the empire, only cares for the freedom of the skies, and enduring survival’s guilt over a tragic loss of someone dear to him into a...
Whiffle Bat Champion.
*My sheer excitement and obsession when they first announced Vivi as one of the FF cameo was astronomical. I remember keeping a DeviantArt journal detailing any news and screencaps of the little guy pre-release. Still my favorite character from the whole franchise.
Even if he suffers the same fate as Donald and has a zipper on his mage hat for absolutely no reason other than this game existing during Nomura’s Belt-and-Zippers phase.
*Someone’s going to get sued one day because these damn kids keeps sitting atop the clock tower that has yet to be grafted with bars to prevent their inevitable deaths when one of them slips and falls.
*I swear I could play a six degrees of Kingdom Hearts with all the voice actors in this game. Or at least a "Whozit" and "Whatzit" they've done in other media (like Yuffie who is voiced by Mae "Katara" Whitman here. Pre-Avatar, even.)
Also I’m sorry, Will Friedle, you’re a fine voice actor, but you’re...Terry McGinnis. Batman told me he “totally owned all you lamers.”
*I love the Nobody enemy designs. The sheer creepiness and uncanny valley of them all lends credit to their existence as, well, non-existences. The Dusk enemy design alone is inspired with its unsettling belts wrapped around its fingers, or terrifyingly sharp teeth subtly hidden inside of its mouth. I can imagine the creature unzipping its mouth to reveal a set of flesh-eating teeth and the fear is real.
I love the way it flies and circles around its victim, almost like it’s trying to wrap itself around you, but I’m especially fond of that one attack where it essentially kicks you as while it sashays over to you upside down.
The Samurai Dusk also has my favorite reaction command. It’s just unspeakably badass.
*I never liked Squall in FF8 back then (don't know how I'd feel now if I ever replay FF8) and he was just okay in the first Kingdom Hearts, but I remember I really endeared myself to his reappearance in KHII. Squall in this game is what happens when he grew up, found good friends and family, and got some therapy for his issues. He’s stoic, but always a team player, and supportive of Sora and the people around him. KHII Squall is what FF8 Squall has the potential to be once he reaches adulthood and it’s nice to see that here.
*I really love the little changes the developers inputted for Sora, Kairi, and Riku's models to accommodate for their physical growth. Riku's is the most obvious (boy clearly ate his vegetables), but I like that you can tell Sora grew not just through story observations (Yen Sid points out how he outgrew his old garbs) but by comparing his height in relation to Goofy. Sora was shorter than him in the first game, but has since outgrown him in KH2.
Along with his better skill set during combat, this is a really nice way to visually shown how far Sora has come and how much time has passed.
This also goes in the opposite direction with Namine whom I think had to redo her mod when they remastered Chain of Memories for 3D. I notice she looks younger in that game than in KHII which would make sense at the time since it takes place a full year ago.
...Well, maybe. Can Nobodies age???
*Damn it, game, don’t give me a pouch containing 5,000 munny and treat it as an in-game key item that I can’t use even though munny is literally the currency I use to buy things.
*The retooling and emphasis on battle mechanics means the platforming element of the first really suffers and that’s a damn shame. I wasn’t particularly in love with exploring the Disney Worlds in the first KH, but I appreciate the effort put into so Sora could not easily get from Point A to Point B.
Even finding treasure chests is comical and if not for sake of posterity for anyone going for 100%, I wonder why Jiminy bothers to keep track of how many you find. There were literally like three out in plain view the minute I entered the Mulan world.
*Speaking of level designs, yeesh, the layout is not optimal for the skateboarding minigame.
*Trying to design a gummi ship in this game requires a masters degree in gummiology and metaphysical engineering, as well as the ability to tap into the 4th dimensional. The 45,000 page instructional manual they give you, the odd grid map used to piece together your ship (fair, the latter was also in the first game), and finicky button controller layout means it took me a while to fully grasp what I was suppose to do and I’m still not sure I got a full handle of it just yet.
*I don’t understand why Sora had to use a physical object as a conduit in each world to open up a metaphysical gate to the next world. He never had to use an in-between to close it. What’s the exception outside of unnecessary symbolic tie-in to the individual worlds he’s in?
*Props to the developers for recreating the ballroom. It’s actually kind of majestic to look at the beautiful ceiling and chandelier design from Sora’s perspective.
*There are a couple of random gameplay elements I forgot completely existed and seemingly there for arbitrary purposes. I just find it unusual that Mulan’s world forces you to collect literal manifestation of morale. It’s like the developers decided they wanted to reuse the Struggle minigames’ balls into a repurposed Morale Ball because well shit, someone programmed these things they’re damn well going to put it to good use.
I guess if Sora and pals don’t literally collect morale, all the soldiers will be, I don’t know, sad and die in battle or something.
*I’m aware Disney villains using the Heartless as their personal army is the norm, but it’s tonally weird when it’s Shan-Yu of all characters doing it. The infamous Charge-In-The-Snowy-Mountain scene doesn’t quite have the leg up in terms of threat when his army consist of adorable Heartless bumblebees.
*You know what pointless shit I am obsessed with? The stupid puzzle pieces scattered throughout the game. This is the first time I’m playing the Final Mix game and I’m just seething at the lack of abilities I currently do not have that prevents me from reaching certain pieces.
*Auron was instantaneously my favorite character when I first played FFX twenty years ago, and his return in KH2 sent me in fangirlish squeals. How could I not? Look at this handsome bastard. He’s calm, collected, badass with a cool sword, has rugged good looks (he doesn’t have it here, but he rocks some killer shades), and a good dad. That’s prime DILF quality right there. Of course I can’t get enough of him.
Square Enix knows we can’t get enough of him; dude be all “fuck off hades” and gives the god the middle fingers and fucks off elsewhere. Auron is King Shit.
*Oh man, do I still have my old Sora figurine? I think I got him in Katsucon way back in 2009.
*So who’s done a drinking game every time the game introduces Sora, Donald, and Goofy individually to every character they meet?
*Hey, so I noticed Square Enix is finally moving their asses and bringing the Ultimania books to the US. I doubt they’re going to bring the older KH Ultimanias overseas (my kingdom for an officially translated FFIX one), but ya know. I kinda think that yeah, I might want the KHIII Ultimania.
...Just saying.
*GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK!
GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK!
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happy 100 followers!!!!!!!!! could you write a small flarrie secret admirer drabble? if not that’s totally ok!! congrats again!!!
Thank you anon!!! This is NOT a small drabble lmao I have no concept of doing anything in moderation. Might even edit it a bit in a while and post it on ao3. Thank you for the awesome prompt. Here ya go:
I'm not magical, I can't read your mind
Pairings: Flarrie | Warnings: none
There’s a rose on Flynn’s desk. There’s a rose on Flynn’s desk. And she has no idea who put it there.
Well- she does know who put it there, she knows that it’s Nick’s job this year to distribute the Valentine’s Day roses and messages, a school tradition that Flynn normally despises and mocks to no end. But someone must have bought the rose, addressed it to her and handed it in and Flynn absolutely cannot fathom who would do that for her.
Definitely not the person she wishes this was from. But now is not the time to think about that.
Almost frantically, she scans the rose for an attached message, or at least an indication about who the sender is.
Nothing. In fact, it looks like the cardboard tag has been ripped off, leaving only the corner with her own name, attached to a piece of string.
“Ooh”, Julie says, waggling her eyebrows, when she spots Flynn puzzling over her flower. “Who’s this from?”
“No idea”, Flynn says, dragging her thumb across the jagged edges of the destroyed tag. “No idea…”
-
Later in the hallway, Flynn tries her best to stealthily transfer the rose from her backpack into her locker. She fails, obviously, because she when she looks around she catches Carrie blatantly staring at her from a few feet away.
“What?” she snaps, irritably. Yes, Carrie has very clearly been trying to be nicer to both her and Julie, but Flynn is still weary of this new found peace.
She also might be a bit annoyed simply because she got a rose and it isn’t from Carrie.
Immediately, something in Carrie’s posture changes and her face scrunches up.
“Nothing”, she says. “Just wondering who’s stupid enough to send you a rose.”
Flynn feels like she’s been punched in the chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she says incredulously.
“Don’t you hate valentine’s day?” Carrie asks and now Flynn is just confused. Why does she still remember that?
“It’s anonymously”, Julie chimes in unhelpfully. “From a secret admirer”
She sings those last words teasingly, like she’s done all the way through English lesson. Like she has any room to talk with the songs Luke and her write about each other on the daily.
Carrie raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed.
“Someone sent you a rose and didn’t even write their name? That’s so stupid.”
“It’s not-“, Flynn starts and then breaks off. Why does she suddenly feel defensive over this anonymous sender?
“Sounds like a coward to me”, Carrie says with a sickly sweet smile before turning away. “See you in music”, she calls and disappears down the hallway.
“What has made her revert back to demon today?” Julie says, sounding as confused as Flynn feels.
-
Flynn doesn’t expect any follow up after the rose on Valentine’s Day. It has been fun coming up with more and more wild theories with Julie and the band (the latest being that it’s a ghost who has fallen for Flynn when they saw her setting up the lightshow at the Orpheum), but to Flynn at least it is clear that that was the end of it.
So when she finds a small envelope on her desk the next morning, it takes her a bit to figure out what’s happening here.
Inside, she finds a small piece of paper with, curiously enough, words clearly written by a real typewriter on it.
>
To: Flynn
I’m sorry I’m a mess,
But you simply make me speechless.
I couldn’t let you go without a note,
After I trashed the first one I wrote,
So let me just say, though this is nothing new,
I seem to have hopelessly fallen for you.
>
When Carrie catches Julie and Flynn pouring over the poem during lunch while walking past their table, she scoffs.
“A bit cliché, don’t you think?”
Flynn scowls and hides the note with her hand. “Go away Carrie”
“The meter’s off”, Carrie says haughtily before stalking off.
“How did she spot that so fast?” Julie exclaims incredulously.
-
The next note shows up in Flynn’s bag while she’s working on a Spanish presentation with Nick and Carrie.
>
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I like your music,
And your rapping too
>
“Now that’s just tacky”, Carrie says, while spying over Flynn’s shoulder.
Flynn rolls her eyes.
-
>
Flynn,
No poem today, just wanted to say that your smile made my day.
>
“They’re not even trying anymore, are they?” Carrie mocks.
-
>
With your gentle soul and your kind eyes,
You chase away the clouds in the skies,
Never met a person, so loyal and strong
And anyone who had you, would be a lucky one.
>
“Skies? This sounds ridiculous!”
Flynn curses the fact that Carrie keeps seeing these.
-
>
I’d write you a song, but no melody is beautiful enough to fit you.
>
Even Julie calls that one cheesy but for once, even though she sits right there with them, Carrie has nothing to say.
Flynn looks on confused while Carrie scribbles into her notebook with a pinched expression on her face, pen gripped so tightly that it looks like it might break any second.
“She needs to finish this new Dirty Candy song by tomorrow”, Nick explains.
“Yeah and I hate everything I write the second it’s on the page!” Carrie growls, clearly completely lost in whatever she’s dealing with.
-
>
I try to tell you every day,
But you just take my breath away
These rhymes seem silly and never enough
Forgive me, I am blinded by love
>
“Coming on a bit strong there.”
And she’s back.
-
>
Hi Flynn,
I think I’m giving up on the rhyming- It’s a bit strange, isn’t it? Also I swear I’m not a stalker! Just a girl who likes you a lot and is too scared to tell you.
You looked so pretty at the dance yesterday, and you were awesome as a DJ- you always are.
>
“Surely you must be fed up with this nonsense by now?” Carrie asks, when Flynn passes her on her way out of the classroom, the newest note folded neatly in her hand.
The thing is- Flynn is annoyed. But not exactly by the letters. Her secret admirer is sweet and earnest, seems to love music as much as Flynn and all of her friends do and the little poems always brighten her day.
What’s annoying is that she still can’t figure out who this mysterious person with a crush on her is. And that the person she wishes it was is intend on mocking the whole thing to the best of her abilities.
Every time a new note shows up, Carrie is there, ready to tear it into pieces with pointed words and vicious critiques.
Flynn tries to not let it affect her too much. Otherwise, Carrie has been perfectly civil, friendly even and it feels like a bit of their old friendship is restoring, slowly, piece by piece. And what she says about the letters is mostly directed at this person that none of them really know, not at Flynn herself.
It still feels personal, somehow.
-
>
Flynn,
I had a bad day today, but you were really nice to me. It made it all a bit better. Thank you.
>
-
It’s when Carrie one day snatches one of the notes right out of Flynn’s hand to call it “embarrassing”, “awkward” and “clumsy”, that something in her just snaps.
“You know what Carrie”, she says, loudly, almost shouting it even, “can you, for once, just keep your unnecessary comments to yourself?”
Almost immediately, Carrie’s arrogant smile falls and Flynn uses the moment of surprise to steal back her piece of paper.
“You’ve been so mean to this person. I don’t know what your issue is here but I need you to back off on the attitude. I might not know who this is from, so I don’t even know if I like whoever is writing these but I like the letters.”
Carrie looks absolutely shocked, completely frozen in place, her jaw clenched tightly. Good.
“Yes, they might not be perfect”, Flynn barrels on, “but they’re honest, and raw and so, so kind and I can tell that they come from the heart and isn’t that the most important thing?!”
Without waiting for an answer, Flynn picks up her bag that she leaned against the lockers when she discovered the note and brushes past Carrie. She knows she’s a bit too worked up, but it has been a trying week.
Only a few moments later she realizes that she saw tears forming in Carrie’s eyes.
-
In Spanish class, Flynn notices the glaring absence of Carrie in the seat in front of her and a little bit of guilt starts building up inside of her. She has no idea what’s going on, but something clearly is up so after their teacher finally lets them go, Flynn goes on to try and find Carrie.
The music room is one of the first places Flynn thinks of and sure enough, she can hear gentle piano notes and Carrie’s voice singing very quietly drifting through the slightly cracked door.
Before barging in, Flynn stops short when she recognizes parts of the lyrics. Is that- one of the poems she received only a week ago?
Slowly, she tiptoes into the room. What she sees is Carrie, cross-legged at the piano, bent over her notebook full of scribbles that she’s clearly reading from and that somehow contain parts of the poetry that has been a big mystery to Flynn and all of her friends for so long. Just now Carrie’s singing the words that are undeniable not just poems, but song lyrics, and she has added onto them and-
Flynn doesn’t understand anything anymore.
“Carrie!” she says, before she can stop herself. Carrie flinches and bolts away from the piano, the chair clattering down to the floor in the process.
“Flynn”, she breathes, looking terrified.
“I-“, Flynn stutters, “What’s going on? Is this some kind of prank?” She doesn’t think she could take that.
“No!” Carrie yells and immediately winces at her volume. “No, I would never do that to you”
“Then why-“, Flynn is getting more confused every second, “you wrote those? I thought you hated- the notes, I though you hated the notes”
To her horror, Carrie is now actually crying.
“I do hate the notes, I mean I feel so stupid, you hate Valentine’s Day and then I send you a rose, but I just- I like so much and I didn’t know what to do and I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t and then I wrote you those notes but they always sounded so stupid to me”
Carrie is full on panic rambling now and Flynn is barely processing all this new information that is thrown at her.
“I just couldn’t stop myself and then you said you actually like the notes? But I know you’d never like me, as a person, I mean I am awesome as a performer but horrible as a friend, let alone as a girlfriend and-“
“Carrie-“, Flynn tries to intersect, “Carrie!”
Carrie stops and finally looks at her, wide eyed.
“I do like you, as a person”, Flynn says. Her heart is beating out of her chest but she is not letting this go.
“I- what?” Carrie looks as confused as Flynn felt just a minute ago. “You do?”
“Yes”, Flynn says and now she can’t stop the smile on her face, “I really like you. Actually, I always wished those notes were from you.”
Carrie blinks. “You. Okay. Okay. Um- I really didn’t-“
Flynn laughs. “Deep Breaths Carrie.”
“I don’t really know what to do with this now, I’m not good at all this”, Carrie says, waving her hands around but she’s smiling too now, wider with every moment.
“How about a date? Milkshakes?” Flynn asks and she doesn’t even feel afraid anymore.
“Yes”, Carrie says, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I’d love that.”
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petrichor — rintarou s.
suna rintarou x fem!reader
sypnosis: suna was grown to hate everything within the castle or most likely everything else but when a simple commoner came into the picture.. well..
tags: royal au, TRAGICALLY RUSHED ENDING, fluff and a little angst
sunareii is writing . . .
this has been in my drafts for almost a month and decided to finish it despite hating it halfway but since it was already in 3k words i had too. i'll proofread this later, i'n tired and in need of shower
word count: 4.3k
suna was never fond of big parties or parties in general, there were countless of times where he told his parents, the king and queen, that there are no need to have some lavish gatherings for something so simple as his own birthday
the two majestys however couldn't fathom of how could their own son that they raised isn't accustomed to the events they hold yearly despite the fact they've been doing that before he was even born
well, maybe because they aren't the ones who practically raised him, the long-time servant of theirs took genuine care for him as a child and as a adolescent more then his parents could possibly give.
suna was never fond of big parties or parties in general, there were countless of times where he told his parents, the king and queen, that there are no need to have some lavish gatherings for something so simple as his own birthday
the two majestys however couldn't fathom of how could their own son that they raised isn't accustomed to the events they hold yearly despite the fact they've been doing that before he was even born
well, maybe because they aren't the ones who practically raised him, the long-time servant of theirs took genuine care for him as a child and as a adolescent more then his parents could possibly give.
he could only frown as he hears the heavy doors swung open from his upstairs bedroom, which was seven floors away from the ballroom where the celebration was being held. at that point he doesn't even desire to celebrate his date of birth if it were to be as mediocre as this. royal gatherings are always so extravagant, too extravagant yet so uninteresting and repetitive, why even waste the time and effort someone worked hard for?
suna rolled his eyes as he finally reached the ballroom and sat down on his own throne. the entire room was covered in gold decorations, chandeliers that only ever bright in a occasion such as this, the guests wore ravashing gowns and suits with silver rings as if they're the host(tess). a few rustles can be heard from the guests then the enormous door slam shut everyone became silent and the day begins but first a long unnecessary speech from the king.
'is the twenty foot tall entrance mandatory for every palace is there?' he thought to himself
ting ting ting ting
his father who sat beside him created a noise, loud enough to get everybody's attention with the use of his steel fork and well-made glass just for him. suna grunted silently at him before the king stood up and spoke "welcome and thank you all for coming, we are incredibly delighted for you to be able to come at our only son or as you may know prince rintarou's seventeenth birthday"
suna could feel his father eyeing him in the side as if saying that he should have been the one to speak at that moment, but then why would he be taking responsibility when he didn't wanted this party to begin with
suna shifts his body on the seat uncomfortably as his father continues his fabricated discourse. no, suna was certainly not happy of them coming, how many times does he have to say it? the prince gawped at every side of the room to see many familiar faces, he could only deadpan repulsively—if that's even a thing—the guests looked far too chummy in spite of not even being in a deep relation with his family. suna wanted nothing but to run away from everything.
"yer look down in the dumps for your birthday" atsumu started to babble, his booming of a voice resonates moderately at the empty halls, the only hall that's completely clear, no noisy pigs or bodyguards whatsoever
"yeah, atleast you don't have to share your birthday with this idiot" osamu groused eating the pudding he unquestionably slipped with him, "hey! where did ya get that?" ginjima asked, suna wouldn't confess this to anyone but he particularly like time like these where he doesn't have to use any baffling mannerism along with some close acquaintances that couldn't care less of how he talks.
however unlike the three close acquaintances he doesn't have any brawny accents, suna sighs deeply before looking at them in the eye, "isn't it obvious, the parties get boring overtime, not like it was already boring to begin with" he explains
"and the champagnes got old too, don't they have anything else to drink?" ginjima questions "what's a champagne?" atsumu bewildered "i like parties, one of the only times i get 'ter eat delicious food" "yeah, cause ma puts ya in a healthy diet especially when you started sneaking in some baked goodies from a commoners bakery" osamus twin said who got sunas senses and attention all to atsumu, unbeknownst to him.
"how'd ya find a way to get out, we literally share the same room"
"ever found out yer a deep sleeper?"
"so ya ran away at night then!"
"i wouldn't say 'ran away'"
"the bakery is open even after hours? "
"nah, i made a deal with the baker, he's a good man i'm tellin' ya"
"do you have a royal guard with ya? ya could have been killed not that i would care but— "
"unlike you 'tsumu i am an independent prince, thank you very much!" "and yer exchange his food for what?"
"golds, hundred of them if you have to ask"
"like ma and pa would let ya have that much"
"who said they let me have 'em in the first place?"
"... you didn't!"
"i did!"
"i'm disappointed osamu, thought yer were the better twin" ginjima shakes his head in dissatisfaction.
"see, 'samu? you're a disappointment, snitching in some riches from ma when you possibly know better! just wait 'till aran and even kita hears about this!"
"what'r ya? a tattletale little brat!?"
"let's go back there so i could tell ma ya've been stealin and get yer ass grounded!"
"wait-!" suna cuts in as the blond twin stood with his left foot forward ready to disclose information and see his brothers downfall.
"what is it suna?"
"... you look stupid today" suna says before walking away, leaving atsumu rather astonished in a way. "told ya green tunic doesn't suit ya"
"the least you could do is give lady shiozaki a bit of courtesy" his father taunts at him, pointing at him as if accusing him of something vile, take osamus thieving for example. suna knows that by courtesy he meant kiss the top of her hand, his face grimace at that as his father puts his finger down looking at him with a offended look,
'it's my birthday, if anything they could kiss my— '
"rintarou!" his father shouted in rage, even the platters and cups on the table that laid so still tottered from the kings petty action
"you— you ungrateful child!"
"what did i do?" suna questions, his face stays in a blase even when the royal whatever is about to erupt like a volcano after years in the waiting line
"rintarou, my dear.." the mother finally has spoken through all the sore talk of a father and his son. "you're way too nonchalant but heedless" she says softly like a woman singing a lullaby to her baby, but suna is no baby
to make long story short, the father could only threw a fit as he watched his son, nod at his complaints with an expected apathetic look that irked the king of a guy even more than before, provoked he sends suna to go to his room and lock him there 'till he learns his lessons 'cause you know, parenting 101 logic and stuff.
they wouldn't know but suna is peeved at all completeness and abundance of insignificant orders, sweet cakes that now tastes like stale bread and bogus geniality that even he, had done formerly to many suna would have fought him if he wanted too but he just couldn't bring himself to do it because of hallow reasons
but that didn't matter, he watches from outside as he sees his father soothes himself whilst with his wife brush his hand, trying to cool him down most likely. yes, instead of being in his bedroom he's out there off the foot of the castle grounds. unfortunately for him though, he didn't had the chance to grab any lantern's or candles for him to use as the sun plummet and the blue moon had took a rise.
'now what' he says to himself, there were barely even stars to guide him his way tonight but only the dusky moon ray could help him. he figured it's enough to accompany him for the night since he didn't have any sort of options. he walks forward to southeast with the knowledge that it has the nearest town he could go to before sunrise, atleast he hopes so.
he trails down the bulky grounds of the forest, allowing the eerie sounds of calm or danger to surround him. now's the only time that he begun to contemplate what will he do once he gets to his destination, start a new life maybe or go back after.
'no, i'm sure father eh.. knights will come fetch me soon after they realize i was gone, sadly.. '
the dark element of the skies covered the rain to watch for, thus suna's taken by surprise, the forest surely didn't have any hut or any of the kind, so he lets the droplets patter around him, from his hair down to his chest the raindrop go.
he sits down by the old tree that slope downward, he exhales deeply from frustration, 'i couldn't even go as far as this, the guards probably notice my absence by now and—’ his thoughts were cut off short by a flicker of light coming from behind him.
"there it is! i knew you'd be here!" then came a voice, a figure in the distance not too further away from him moves around in the trees that seems to almost close at them.
"is someone there?" the feminine voice say, the voice sounded silvery-like perhaps fluttery is a better word for it. the girl pulls out her lantern to suna's spot where he sits, the rain grew cold and strong as minutes passes, wind brushed off their exposed skin fiercely. "why are you here all alone, it's dangerous here of all places!" she shouted as she runs towards him not letting the frightening storm throw her body down. "are you okay?" before he could even answer, a tree not that far infront of them went down,falling onto the grass, without letting him answer, she immediately grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out of the woodland where all sorts of danger could occur
he wakes up with shivering bones, his blanket or what seemed just a rug to him gave him little heat from the cold he was exposed in. "are you awake?" a voice asked in worry, his eyes fixated at the woman infront of him wearing simple dress, length just below her knee along with a stained white apron holding a small basin
'is there two of her?'
he thought as the sight of her doubles suna attempts to stand up but the heat burns his skin all around his body. "you shouldn't stand up yet!" she exclaimed, rushing towards his side, setting the basin to the ground, dipping a piece of cloth before placing it ontop forehead, "you shuld rest then —" her words couldn't be heard anymore as suna could only faint.
subsequently, the fog that enveloped in his head has eased, he's fever isn't gone but he surely gotten better by just a few hours and yet the rain hasn't ceased
"What.. where?" he murmurs rewinding everything that happened the night before. suna finds himself in a strangers house, the living room is combined with the kitchen, no doors or walls to separate both rooms. the living room doesn't have a big fireplace where he used to keep himself warm in during the cold season, there is nothing much to be seen in the kitchen just a few plates and condiments and then a table with a flower vase ontop right by it, suna assumed that that is already the dining area.
he's at the couch with the blanket and wet cloth draped over him, the bowl of water is still beside the him, suna manages to move his arms to take care of himself. just then the door infront of him swings open revealing the same person he saw before, her tangled hair in loose braids that's pinned behind her head, a bit of her hair sticking out of every direction. regardless of her poor housing and clothing suna thought she was pure and alluring
"hi" she greeted rather bashfully
"hello" suna said back with a blank expression
"are you feeling better?" she inquires as she puts the basket she was holding down on the table "better thanks to you" he answers earnestly, she smiles "dont mention it"
"you must be hungry" she says, a bit like a whisper, she starts grabbing the pan and eggs from the basket, getting the stove ready. "no, no. you've done enough, i'm not really that hungry" he claims intensely, but the sound of his stomach grumbling contradicts what he had just said.
she giggles silently before continuing what she was just doing. the sound of sizzling and occasional water splash engulfs the room, suna proceeds to treat himself 'till when she have finished
"say.. what were you doing out there in the wilds, all alone in the night?"she inquires hesitantly as plates clatter around the kitchen "did you run away?" she asks more
"sort of.."
"here" she says handing him his plate with eggs, bread and pieces of grapes, 'that's a weird match of food' he thoughts but chose to not question it as she already helped him enough already and also because he doesn't have much choice
suna could feel her eyes analyzing him up and down while he eats, growing uncomfortable he stares back
"sorry, i haven't catched your name yet"
"oh.. its.. su..--hibiki.. katsuo"he answers the last minute, he knows that his palace is pretty popular in quite a few places and knowing from some prior experience the person infront of him could give him a threat for money or sell him for ransom which is very unlikely.
his white lie didn't go through and naturally she knew he was lying even so she played along just because.
"i'm y/n l/n, feel free to call me whatever hibiki"
the smile she sent him tug a string to his heart, feeling sheepish with the tense atmosphere around him, they shortly finished their meal.
"y/n, what were you doing there in the middle of the night?" suna asks, the rain slowly winding away as she opens the window from the kitchen side and suna does the other.
"hmm, i lost my house key"
"why would it be in the forest of all places?"
"well, i do pick fruits and berries from trees and such for a living, sometimes i help carry lumber from tree cutters" she explains, tiny droplets of water falling leisurely from her house roof, the rain had passed but on the flip side the clouds are still dyed grey
y/n inhales lively, taking in the good fresh air after the rain. "don't you just love the smell the rain leaves behind?" she asks avidly, suna doesn't know what to say and opted to stay quiet and whiffs the scent y/n was talking about
"do you plan to come back yet, hibiki?"
"uh, no, not really"
"great!" she beams with a smile before walking towards the front door and opening it for him. "you still haven't changed your... quite fancy attire from last night" her words trails down inaudibly as she looks up and down at suna's choice of clothing which was the same dress robe he wore from his birthday partyas
they step foot out of the house, the village is already packed with people. girls chatting, kids playing and men working. the place is productive and conscientious something that his palace guards lack, his bodyguards were anything but a bunch of old drunkards once they have their break and though they are some younger ones just a few years older than him that works as a protector but there's rarely any of them
"hey! daisy, who's that little fella with you?" a elderly man said as they reached a small bakery with great goods. "goro this is hibiki, hibiki this is goro, he owns the bakery shop and has the best one around here" she explains, "well, the others are certainly not all bad" suna has never heard of such a heavy accent before,
'and i thought the twins dialect was the worst'
"so what brings you here today?" goro asked with a deep voice, "he's kinda lost and doesn't have a spare clothes, i was wondering if we could borrow some"
"well of course! happy to lend some help for the new guy, my son has a loads of clothes to spare for a life time!" the mans voice was defeaning to say the least, "haruto can-!" as if his son had already heard him a small pile of clothes is thrown at the stairs that is built just at the side of their house
"here ya go! you can go change at the back room" goro says then another voice chimed in the conversation
"what's the occasion? wearing glamourous outfit in a place like this?" the son sneered as he stood at a narrow terrace attached to the wooden stairs. he looks down at mockingly mocking him for his appearance
"don't let him blow yer gasket" goro says reassuringly while patting his shoulder
"thanks" he deadpans but with a little more emotion than he used to display with his father.
afterwards, y/n gave him a little tour around places, he used to see this small town from his library window pane but diving inside upclose feels alot bigger than he anticipated. saying suna had fun would be an understatement, he feels something larger than just joy.
safety, vulnerability and mostly freedom. he wasn't necessarily held captive inside the castle like the backstory of every damsel in distress, the tables may have turned in this story, the prince who was trained with a sword have been the helpless damsel during the thunderous night whilst dearest y/n being his knight in just a dirty old dress. but what was he gonna do with his sword skills at the stormy evening? battle zeus?
needless to say he doesn't even have his mighty sword with him, how naive.
"when do you plan to go back?" y/n questions randomly at their peaceful stroll back to her residence, "i'm not too sure" he answers back hoping to change the subject.
"your parents are bound to notice your absence being the prince and all" she enunciated casually, suna stops in his tracks
"you.. knew?" he croaked
"from your princely outfit and the place i found you, i stick two and two together"
his mouth curved down in exasperation, his fist clench tightly, his nails almost digging his palms
"your royal highness, i request nothing of you than you might think, to be quite frank i didn't knew how to approach you first-"
"it's okay.. i'm not mad" he soothes with the softet voice he could master, the tight grip of his hands decreased and he exhales slowly to calm himself down
"i mean after today, i never assumed you were the type" and he partially knew his dishonesty was noticeable with just how he stood but he left that part out 'cause he couldn't handle the shame he felt
"are you going back though?" she fretted with a begging tone as if she doesn't want him to go
"do you want me to?" he teased
"no! i mean if you really need too"
"is it okay for me to stay at yours for a little while?"
"of course! you're welcome at my place anytime!" she immediately answered cheerfully
"it just feels nice to have some company again" she mumbles discreetly but suna heard it loud an clear.
and he did stay, longer than he should've, it's like he left his royal crown behind his bedroom and also like his parents have forgotten about him, he learned and loved many knew things such as wood cutting and though he doesn't have much experience but he's working on it
suna had insisted to work for y/n seeing as she was letting him sleep in her house unpaid. he surprisingly have very strong stamina. for most of the week, suna made sure to pay her back for her kindness and hospitality every single day regardless of her resistance
he felt butterflies in his stomach as he recollects the warmth he felt when she suggested him to sleep in the same bed as her and though at first he thought nothing much of it except the berth had little no space between them and he could feel her soft breathing beneath his skin, he possibly spent half the night admiring her face as disturbing as it sounds
oh, and the splinter he had by some means on his first try of using an axe, y/n was there for his aid although it was just a splinter he was bleeding alot. suna had enjoyable memories there and most of it was literally every interaction he has with herhe loves everything about her from her kindess to her boldness even
but of course, suna knew he would be found anytime by now
it was a nice morning whereas suna was alone in the house when suddenly the door bursted open harshly breaking it,
"your royal highness, we have finally located you, the king and queen are worried sick!" the knight explained, "you must return home immediately" he said grabbing into his wrist while suna resisted, "i dont want to!" suna keeps saying but to no avail, the guard buckled him up on the horse between two other guards
this knight was extreme loyal to his father and he follows his commands more than anyone else, suna would admit his father treated him more as a son and loved him more than him but he didn't wanted to leave just yet without seeing her for the last time knowing that he'll most likely forever be locked in the castleand despite suna having to take his fathers place sooner, the knight somehow had power over him.
"let's go back on the road, hiyah!" the lead went up into the air before smacking onto his white horse, the animal hurriedly went west eith just one slap of the rope, suna looked back at the city behind him, many people crowded to watch the prince leave their home waving at him merrily presumbly knowing he was royalty all along
suna did wanted to see y/n for the final time however seeing her beside the audiences watching his leave was indescribable, he couldn't tell what she was feeling from the distance he was in but he certainly felt isolated again and so were she. the continuous sound of a horses hoof racing towards sounded annoying to him and he wanted nothing more but to dismount it
when he finally came home he was only greeted by his mother and a few other maid and butlers to welcome him back. of course, what did he expect from his father. suna went straight to his room without a word, his mind stuck to the question of how was she doing and how did the guards found out where he was, she couldn't have told them.. right?
that night is certainly eventful, when suna walks down the corridor to get a little fresh air only to receive a heavy news once he hears his fathers voice from the dining hall talking to his soldiers and it seems to him the king will send them for battle between another kingdom"but his majesty, the king you are aware that we'll also ambush a town with no involvement into this matter”
"they don't matter having to govern an extra land is even better, the decision has been decided the night before, you'll leave within the next minutes and go straight forward to invade the southeast!" he yells, his plan is rather reckless and is relying to brute strength. knowing his father, suna didn't say anything and hides back to his room
thunder strikes loudly ringing his ear as he tries to cautiously open the stable, he could feel the rain slowly dropping one by one by the second, grabbing his horse before he disappears away from the castle.
sad to say, the fighters on both sides have beaten him to it. even with the rainwater going down suna could still make out a bit of smoke from the town
he grips the lead tightly, it's almost unrecognizable, everything was demolished, burned down and he hopes to atleast see someone alive other than the soldiers who was ordered to fight
"y/n!" he screams piercingly and as if on cue lightning struck feets away from him, almost blinding him. instantly making a beeline to her house that was also gone and burned to ashes
suna dismounts his horse and started yelling like he'd lose his voice by tomorrow while also picking up the wooden pieces of the house
"y/n! goro! haruto!"
rather than the sound of thunderbolt like earlier he heard a gunshot that scares off his great horse away to the darkness
"wait-"
in his mind, he knew he was done for when he hears the rapid footsteps towards his direction, then it stops as the person halted catching their breaths but suna couldn't hear them stopping from the heavy rain that's almost drowning his ears. he takes a step back to turn around and face them only to see the face he loves so much
he may have did lost his voice and could only run towards her, their lips touching each other then and there and the place around them is not the most beautiful place to get your first kiss but when the two finally gets who they truly needed nothing else matters
#haikyuu suna rintarou#suna rintaro#rintarou suna#suna rintarou angst#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou imagine#Suna Rintarou#haikyuucreations#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu reader insert
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Prince! Jungwoo
Not gonna lie, to most people he looks absolutely terrifying, his royal standing, tall frame and sharp jawline could easily trick anyone into thinking he was scary
On the contrary, he so badly wants to make friends and prove to his villagers that he’s anything but menacing
He didn’t want to be treated like a prince at all, in face he loathed the title, he’d rather keep his own room clean and help in the kitchen making dinner so that the palace workers were given a small break.
He hated people feeling inferior to him as a result of his title, he wanted everyone around him to be treated equally and fairly.
He found the most comfort when he was amongst the animals at the stable, making sure they were well fed, they carried no judgement and he was never pestered by anyone, in that moment he was no prince, just jungwoo in his little hideaway.
He’d take the horses out of the stable and train them on the land he had but wasn’t allowed to venture outside of the castle walls as a result of his mother and fathers’ iron first.
He was close to the maids, regarding them as his only friends and appreciated them for treating him as such, no title included. He confided in them, often opening up to them about his thoughts and feelings
The palace staff often held sympathy for the young prince, isolated in the castle, no friends his own age and as a result of his parents being King and Queen there was very little interaction between them due to making appearances.
If given the chance, he’d trade his life as a prince in a heartbeat for a normal life.
As he grew older his “home” started to feel more and more like a prison and the more he wanted to break out and away from his parents grasp.
He slowly felt like he was going insane, being so isolated. His parents were so often in other countries, dealing with royal affairs and were none the wiser to their sons’ loneliness.
Jungwoo decided enough was enough and drew a deal with the castle staff, with them allowing him one day of freedom a week to go into the town, leaving a change of everyday clothing outside of his room so that he didn’t bring any unnecessary attention to himself.
The guards knew of the risk but complied with his wishes so long as he keeps a low profile, them secretly being excited that he was going off into the world on his own and holding resentment against his parents for always leaving him behind.
He’d take money to those in need, disgusted by how comfortably his family lived and yet there were people in such dire need so he did what he could without being discovered.
He never showed his face to those he helped, scared that they would treat him differently or refuse his help because of who he was.
After a few more visits into the town, the village conditions had bettered and poverty was lessening, leaving only one mysterious figure to thank.
When returning back to the castle from his most recent visit, a guard who was visibly panicked approached him, letting go of a breath he’d been holding
“I’m so glad you’re back young prince, your mother and father are due back in half an hour, take this back to your room and quickly change” handed him a pile of royal clothing
He thanked the guard and ran to his bedroom, changing into his formal wear and placing his casual clothes into the back of his drawers, making it back downstairs with just enough time to spare to greet his mother and father on arrival
but this time there was a girl alongside them, confusion written all over his face
His mother chided him “Jungwoo, don’t be rude to your future wife”
and he honestly choked on air because
what the fuck
what the fuCK
whAT THE FUCK
Livid was not even the word. His own parents had used him as a bargaining chip to unite two different counties and keep the peace between them.
He also felt sorry for the girl he was due to marry too as she probably wasn’t for the marriage either but had been coerced by her own parents but he didn’t care, this was the last straw.
Jungwoo saw his parents maybe twice a year if he was lucky yet for some reason they thought it would be okay to marry him off to someone without any consideration of his thoughts or feelings
he felt like part of a business deal, cheap. And he wasn’t about to let that happen.
He stormed off to him room, mother and father crying after him but for Jungwoo there was no turning back now and he put a plan in action, he would not be used as currency.
He locked his door and waited up until the early hours of the morning and ran away, heading in the direction of the town he knew so well and loved dearly, all those times sneaking out coming in handy.
He knew the village and castle would know of his absence come morning, leaving his parents a letter, giving his reasons for running away, namely being his wishes to find love on his own terms.
It was still dark by the time he made it into the centre of the village but he kept moving, knowing he couldn’t stay there for long as he would be quickly discovered.
He advanced to the outskirts of the village where the woods were located, stepping over a few branches when he fell, a searing pain shooting up his legs, making his yelp.
You dropped the firewood that you’d been collecting after hearing a pained shout coming from an area nearby, searching for the owner of the voice you see a figure holding their ankle as you rush to help them.
You wouldn’t typically let a stranger into the house at sunrise though in this state, the man posed no threat to you.
You decided to get him to your house first where you could examine his injury better, you looked down at him and realised that the man was very handsome, you crouched to his level as he attempted to cover his face which you thought was as a result of being injured but Jungwoo was afraid of being found.
You pulled his arm down from his face, willing the man to look at you “can you walk”
Jungwoo nodded, bewildered at the fact you didn’t know who he was but was in no position to answer any questions on the matter and so was glad he wasn’t a familiar face to you
He tried to stand, grunting in pain, you rushed to his side, swinging his arm over your shoulder to help take some of the weight off of his leg, and starting the small walk back to your house which was situated in the middle of the woods
As you walked together, Jungwoo took the opportunity to scan your face, you were absolutely beautiful, the warm glow of the moon illuminating your angelic features, he’d never spoken to anyone around his age but still felt instantly comfortable with your presence due to your kindness and reassuring aura.
He was a total strange to you and yet you still rushed to his aid and half carried him to your own house so he was already indebted to you.
You made it home and got straight to work at examining Jungwoos’ leg, using your limited knowing of nursing from your mother which was enough to know that his ankle was badly sprained, not broken thankfully.
You racked the cupboards looking for the herbal medicines your mother made as Jungwoo broke the silence and decided to ask a few questions
“How long have you lived in these woods for?”
You turned and smiled, leaving his heart soaring at the sight
“All my life, I live here with my mother picking herbs and plants to make into remedies for the doctors in village, that’s how we make our money but most of the time we don’t accept it, we know enough about the land to live off of it, we just like to help out as much as we can, no one knows the forest like my mother does.”
Jungwoo put the pieces together in his head, you rarely ventured from the forest, explaining why you hadn’t recognised him but hearing of your good deeds did not help the erratic pounding of his heart
“Your mother and yourself are very good people, please, is there anything I can give you as a thank you for helping me?”
You turned, finally finding the herbal mix you were looking for “your name” you laughed, realising that the both of you still were strangers to each other.
He smiled, and it was a heavenly sight, it was only then you realised the full of extent of beauty of the man before you, even with some twine and leaves stuck in his hair.
“My name is Jungwoo and yours is?”
Realising you’d been staring for too long you startle “Oh! My name is Y/n! “
You have a beautiful name, it compliments you well
You turned back around to face the cupboards, making sure he didn’t witness your face turn the same colour as the roses you had picked earlier that day.
You collected yourself, turning wrap Jungwoo’s ankle, applying the herbal remedy and warpping the cloth around his ankle as gently as you could, he winced quietly, guilt washing over you as you whispered a soft apology, Jungwoo reached for your hand making you look at him as he giggled.
“It’s all right, it was my fault for being clumsy enough to fall in the first place though it appears I’m falling again”
You didn’t quite understand what he meant by that so you focused on making a warm brew, infusing it with medicine and handing it to him before deciding to go back into the forest to quickly retrieve the firewood you dropped earlier.
Concern flooded his face, it still wasn’t light outside and he was concerned about you going back out there on your own, he hopped to your side “I’ll go with you”
You laughed softly “Jungwoo, you haven’t given your ankle any time to heal, the forest is my home and I know it well, I’ll be back in no time, I need to make a fire to keep us warm, I should say, you’re welcome to stay a few nights, I saw your bag and realised you probably don’t have anywhere else to go, besides it’s nice to see a new face. My mother often goes into town for a couple of days at a time delivering medicine so it can be quite lonely”
He nodded in return, understanding the feeling more than most would
He visibly calmed upon your return, watching you throw the pieces of wood you had collected into the fireplace and afterwards taking a seat next to him and sparking up a conversation.
You quickly opened up to him, talking about anything and everything, feeling so instantly comfortable with him, you both related to being outsiders of the town and it wasn’t long before Jungwoo confessed his true identity to you
He wholeheartedly liked you and if he wanted to get to know you further he wanted to give you as much truth and honesty as you had rewarded him.
The news came as a total shock to you as a result of how grounded and down to earth he was
though it did explain why such a handsome man was walking around the forest himself in the early hours of the morning.
“So you ran away?” you questioned
He nodded, continuing “ In the time I’ve spent here I’ve felt more welcomed into your home than I ever did my own, I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t call a search, they tried to pick my destiny for me and so, I ran away, I wasn’t having those decisions taken from me”
You shook your head, empathising with the young man “I’m so sorry that happened Jungwoo, everyone should be in charge of their own destiny”
“I’m not sorry it happened anymore, I met you”
While caring for Jungwoo, days continued and not once had you asked him to leave, so he didn’t. He stayed and days turned into months and soon enough, he had asked you to marry him, knowing from that night that you would be his beginning and his end.
There was nothing better than waking up beside him each morning, his arms wrapped tightly around you, as if he was protecting you from harms way even in his sleep, legs tangled together and your bodies fitting together like a puzzle piece, made for each other.
When you kissed it was like all of the stars had aligned in your favour, he knocked the breath from your lungs in the best way, disappointed when you ultimately had to break away to catch your breath, Jungwoo lowering himself so that he could rest his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair, talking to him about whatever was on your mind.
You’d spend days together showing him the right herbs and berries to pick to help you and your mother in the future and which herbs to avoid.
You smiled at his reaction to the deer cautiously making its way towards you both, the adoration in Jungwoo’s eyes was clear when you pet the deer’s nose, you had such a close bond with it as you had helped your mother raise it as a baby when she found it abandoned by his mother in the forest, before releasing him back into the wild when it was fit and ready.
Jungwoo had found it so easy to fall in love wit you, he loved every part of you, you were the escape he was looking for, and in meeting you he knew he’d made the right decision in running away from the palace because in you, he’d found his destiny.
Hope you guys enjoyed! I really like how this turned out after some serious editing, let me know what you think!
Bunny x
#nct jungwoo#kim junwoo#nct 127 jungwoo#jungwoo x reader#nct x reader#jungwoo scenarios#jungwoo imagines#jungwoo headcannons#nct scenarios#nct u reactions#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 scenarios#nct au#jungwoo au#nct imagines#nctzen#nct writers#nct wayv#nct reaction#nct reactions#nct recs#nct u scenarios#nct imagine#nct oneshot#nct scenario#nct dream drabbles#nct blog#nct blurbs#nct friends to lovers#nct headcannons
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It Really Isn’t a Joke (Wonder Woman Salt One-Shot)
Author’s Note: Special thanks to @vixen-uchiha for giving me the idea in my asks! This is a one shot so I will not be continuing this. Also I love Wonder Woman despite writing salt about her lol (* ^.^*) Not maribat, but I do have a maribat fic in the works so yay!
Here I go:
Wonder Woman used to operate in Paris, at least for an extremely short time. Only a week really, so it hardly counted. She had assumed that Paris was safe in her absence, considering that whatever happened there couldn’t possibly be as bad as the enemies the Justice League faced. So she left, blindly disregarding the city that was about to descend into chaos.
Just a few days after her departure, she got word of attacks in Paris. A baby that enlarges. The next time it’s a pigeon man. The third it’s a video of two children decked in animal themed spandex begging for her to return to Paris and help them defeat a butterfly villain. She scoffed when she had watched it.
She knew that she had a large fan club, but she hadn’t thought anyone would be stupid enough to try and trick her back into their city. She couldn’t go back to Paris, the Justice League needed her and these kids should know better than that.
So she scowled as she deleted all of those videos before sending a short message about how they needed to understand that heroes have responsibilities. That a prank like the one they pulled is an unnecessary and dangerous distraction from people who actually needed her help.
After pressing send, she made sure to block them so they could never contact her again. She didn’t have time for ridiculous pranks. As a result, she unknowingly left two children to fend for themselves against a dangerous force. Two spiteful children who held immense power, who would soon grow even more responsible than she could have ever been.
~ 5 years later ~
Wonder Woman sat in the meeting room with a furious Batman and concerned Superman. She was confused about why Bats had suddenly called on such a meeting. She sincerely hoped that they didn’t have another world crisis on their hands. Those were never fun to deal with.
So she sat silently and stared questioningly at the two men. Silently, Batman pulls a remote from god knows where and presses a button. The computer screen, courtesy of Wayne Enterprises, in front of the table they sit at springs to life. A video begins playing, loud noise and crashes resounding throughout the room. Blood curdling screams could be made out among the loud booms.
The image whips around to face a recognizable girl and boy, who had aged since Wonder Woman had last seen them on a screen. She watched unconcerned as they faced a taller man who appeared to be surrounded by butterflies. The ladybug hero appeared to be luring the man closer to the edge of the building, giving up ground as they fought. Then, out of nowhere the cat hero sprang in and buried a peculiar dagger into the man’s back.
The girl then snatched what looked like a brooch off the man, who was falling to the floor in pain. His outfit seemed to melt off into nowhere as he lay defeated on the floor. The girl hero then shouted a muffled phrase while throwing the dagger into the air. As she was doing this, the cat hero was crouched down next to the body of the unconscious villain sobbing. The video suddenly cut.
She turned her attention back to the two men in the room, amused at the grim expressions they wore.
She laughed, “I can’t believe you two fell for that prank by those kids. They’re honestly so annoying. I love my fans but they definitely went too far this time. I didn’t think they would go as far to contact the league after I told them off. Oh well, I suppose you want to pay them a visit after they engaged in making these fake videos again. It really isn’t a joke.”
Superman looked at his colleague with unmasked disgust, while Batman seemed to fume darkly under his cowl.
“It really isn’t a joke. And neither are they,” Batman voiced in a gruff tone laced with icy rage.
The entrance doors slid open to reveal the two teenagers who had been in the video they had been watching just moments ago. The three older heroes beheld haunted eyes and the wary way Ladybug and Chat Noir walked. But there was a dangerous glint when they assessed Wonder Woman.
“Leave us. We have words,” declared Ladybug in a voice that left no room for argument as she stared blankly at Wonder Woman.
Chat Noir stood next to her, a silent sentry of support as he looked solemnly upon older heroes. Superman didn’t need to be a detective like Batman to know the look of distrust. With a silent nod Batman left the room reluctantly with Superman in tow.
Wonder Woman began to feel a slight sense of dread as she looked at the two expressionless heroes, but she ignored it. She didn’t have any reason to be afraid of these two.
Ladybug spoke first. “We wanted to tell you that we forgive you. Even though you abandoned us, it’s wrong to hold grudges. We will not be hostile to you unless you give us a reason. But it will take a while to develop an alliance with you after all that’s been said and done.”
Wonder Woman scoffed at the two children. She couldn’t believe they were acting so high and mighty. Like she was someone less capable. Like she was someone bad. It didn’t sit well with her. Who the hell did they think they were?
She voiced her question scowling, “And just who might you both be to be speaking in such a way?”
This time it was Chat who answered, giving a toothy smile that held a darker edge to it, “We are Ladybug and Chat Noir, holders of the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses of Creation and Destruction.”
Wonder Woman’s face dawned with recognition. Their costumes were very different from those she had been told of in the old stories, probably explaining why she didn’t recognize them. Their outfits had probably changed to suit their needs, as older Miraculous holders had worn battle armor and the like.
She couldn’t believe these two held that much power. They were only children. She had to take the Miraculous from them. They couldn’t possibly be able to protect them, given their age which hinted at inexperience. Yes, desperate measures had to be taken.
So the Amazon stupidly spoke, “Give the Miraculous to me. I can protect them and use them far better than the two of you ever could. So hand them over. Two children like you couldn’t possibly do anything to keep them safe from falling into the wrong hands.”
Ladybug lashed out, “Oh we’ve had five years of experience from keeping them from falling into the wrong hands no thanks to you, and we sure as hell aren’t going to quit now.”
The younger heroes had become tense, waiting for Wonder Woman’s response. The Amazon hadn’t expected resistance, but she knew what she had to do. She unsheathed the sword at her side and prepared to attack.
But before she could even swing her sword, she found herself immobilized by a yo-yo. Her sword was across the room, having been kicked away from her by Chat. She struggled as she tried to break loose, but found she couldn’t. She seethed. It was magic.
“You will not take the Miraculous from us. Give us your word that you will stop and we will release you,” Ladybug spoke in a dangerous voice as she stared down the older hero on the floor.
“I could protect the Miraculous better than the two of you. I’m much older and have more experience than the both of you could. The Miraculous has a long history with the Amazons, they practically belong to us. So release me and give them up.”
Ladybug nodded solemnly at Chat. Before Wonder Woman knew it, pain spread across her head as Chat swung his staff in a practiced way and she felt herself drift off. The yo-yo came loose but the Amazon felt dizzy. She faintly heard a female voice say something about someone called Kaalki. A bright light flashed and she felt the world around her darken.
~ 10 minutes later ~
Wonder Woman woke up in a bed in the infirmary. Batman and Superman stood over her. Clark had the decency to look concerned while Batman kept a stoic expression. A few words were exchanged and she assured them that she was alright, but she was annoyed the two teenagers had gotten away.
Batman had been watching the surveillance footage outside the room before it had blacked out. He and Superman tried to open the doors when they heard struggling inside, but they were magically sealed. As soon as they finally pried them open, they found an unconscious Wonder Woman on the ground near a note folded next to her sword.
Batman finally held out the piece of paper to Wonder Woman. It was a simple note, reading, “To Queen Hippolyta and the Amazons: Remember Atlantis.” There was no signature, only the insignia of a cat’s paw stamped in a deep black ink. Batman noted that the ink seemed to give off an unearthly green glow, similar to the Lazarus Pits. He noticed Diana had paled as she read the note.
“What does Atlantis have to do with this?” he asked sharply.
The Amazon gulped, knowing that Batman would not be happy, “You know about the legend of Atlantis and how it seemingly disappeared. Well, the ruler of Atlantis was actually an Amazon who had a quarrel with the God of Destruction. So, being the God of Destruction, Plagg ended up destroying Atlantis. Plagg and Tikki are the Gods of Creation and Destruction, and their power can be harnessed by the magic of the Miraculouses. Those Miraculouses are what give Ladybug and Chat Noir their power.”
Superman paled. He may be a kryptonian, but those were Gods. They had managed to anger Gods. He groaned.
Batman was furious at Wonder Woman. He truly worked with stupid idiots. First Superman had attacked the two young heroes when they had shown up after Batman had invited them. And now Wonder Woman had pissed them off even more.
Yup. They were in some deep shit. Wonder Woman finally realized, it hadn't been a joke.
Tag List: @rebecarojas07 @theatreandcomicfreak @princessanimeangel11 @maribatlife @ethelphantom @18-fandoms-unite-08 @queengeorgiaaa
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous fandom#ml x dc#wonder woman#superman#batman#ladybug and chat noir#ladybug#chat noir#ml x dc au#wonder woman salt#crossover#idk what to tag here#oneshot#one shot
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