#me knowing exactly where this is going: gee i hope it goes well! (:
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ok well i can't remember who tagged me and i do not have the energy to look rn BUT i am here with a wip. after 2 weeks of being tagged HIII. introducing my two new 20/77 ocs one of which i haven't really. made in-game yet. but it's fine. you are going to love her either way. you are not allowed to feel otherwise
“Jesus Christ, how much longer are you gonna drag this out?”
“No, no, I’m not, I’m-. I’m actually doing it this time.”
“Yeah, yeah, you said that two months ago.”
“I mean it th-.”
“Said that two months ago, too. If you don’t get a fuckin’ move on soon, you’re gonna get dragged outta there in a bodybag, babe. It’s not worth it. Chicken out again, and you’re on your own from now on. I can’t keep-.”
The woman’s voice was quickly cut off by a sharp sigh, as Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration. He was staring at himself in the mirror, bags hanging heavy under his eyes. He looked so… Fragile, pale, like one wrong word, one slight breeze, could make him shatter into a million pieces.
“Need I remind you that was before I knew my fucking boss was fucking my fucking wife in my fucking office?” A moment of silence fell between the two, as Amanda realised there really was nothing she could say to that. The guy had a point. Could’ve made it with a little less expletives, but now wasn’t the time for pointing that out.
He continued, “The divorce has been finalised now, anyway. Papers have been signed. Got a safe amount of money to fall back on. Now’s the best chance I have at telling Colton he and this whole goddamn company can kiss my ass.”
“The one and only chance you’ve got left, cowboy.”
“I know. I know. Just-. If I’m not there in a half hour-.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know what to do.”
The second the call ended, the reality of his situation - the weight of it all - immediately set in, the pain in his stomach almost unbearable, legs ready to buckle all of a sudden. Come on. Don’t give up now. Ten more minutes. Just ten more minutes. And you’re out of here for good. For better or worse. Unfortunately, in Seb’s case, it was going to get much, much worse.
#redacted.doc#me knowing exactly where this is going: gee i hope it goes well! (:#anyway i havent posted writing in a WHILE so im feeling very Cringe about it. i'll live#me rambling before the cut to put off posting as long as possible. im very fine and normal#am i going to elaborate on who they are. not yet no
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LADIES AND GENTLEMEN I HAVE OFFICIALLY WROTE MY FIRST EVER MILKPLANE FANFIC, SO SIT BACK AND ENJOY
Welcome home soldier
It's finally time for Steven to go on leave for the army, this wasn't anything new to him, while he was packing his uniform his dad walked in
"Hey boy I see your packing you things"
"Yup, making sure I've got everything I need"
"I hope everything goes well boy, stay safe" he patted Stevens shoulder gently
"Of course it will, this ain't my first rodeo, I'm sure everything will me fine"
"Man Im surprised Francis is so calm about this"
Suddenly something clicked in Steven, he forgot to tell Francis he was going on leave, and he's never went on leave while in a relationship, god how was he gonna tell him, his face shifted into one of worry
"Something wrong boy?"
"Dammit I forgot to tell Francis I was gonna go on leave" he pinched the bridge of his nose mumbling
"Ah don't worry boyo I can tell him for you, I'm sure he'll take it just fine"
"You sure dad? I know he's a deadpan son of a bitch but he's still got feelings"
"He's a grown man, he'll understand, I promise"
"If you say so then, I trust you".
A few hours later it was time for Steven to leave, he hugged his dad tightly before walking off
"Bye dad!"
"Bye son! Be safe!"
In that moment Francis walked up to mclooy
"Mmm morning Mr. Mclooy, where's Steven going this early? It's a Saturday"
"He's going on leave-"
Francises face went to one of shock
"He's what!?"
"Yeah, bein in the army means you gotta go on leave"
Francis ran out the apartment as fast as he could, he at least wanted to say goodbye.
Steven was just about to go before he felt something grab his hand, he turned around to see Francis looking worried
"Hey Franci, you goo-"
Before he could finish his sentence he was cut off my Francis
"Your going on leave!?"
Steven wasn't used to Francis raising his voice, so that slightly shook him
"Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you, I was just busy getting ready"
Francises heart ached, he hated seeing Steven leave, especially when it was for a long period of time
"When will you be back?"
"I promise to be back soon, I should be back in like 2 months, it's a short leave"
Francises heart was being ripped apart, his eyes swelled with tears
"What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt!?... Or worse... What if you don't come back?"
"Oh Francis, you don't need to worry, I'll be fine... I promise"
Francis gently took off Stevens glasses to see his green eyes for the last time this month, he gently put a hand on his cheek and planted a kiss on Stevens forehead
"I love you" the only words that could come out of Francises mouth without breaking down
"I love you too Francis" Steven gave Francis a warm smile before putting his glasses back and and hugged Francis
"Be safe... Please"
"I will, trust me, I'll come back in one piece"
They shared one last good hug before Francis had to watch Steven leave, he could feel his heart ache with nothing but worry, Francis sighed and went back into the apartment hoping things will turn out fine
|a few weeks later|
It has already been two weeks and all the residents of the apartment were getting worried for Francis, they only every saw him when he delivered milk but on weekends or days off he wasn't anywhere to be seen, they would check up on him and it's almost like everyday he just got worse and worse, yes he wasn't exactly social but he would at least stop and chat a bit, but now he doesn't speak a word whenever somebody asked him anything, another few days like this and mclooy thought he would try and see if he could talk to Francis
The next day mclooy knocks on Francises door
"Open up boy it's me"
There was an unsettling silence before the door slightly creeked open
"Mmm, what do you want?"
"You look like shit"
"Oh gee I haven't noticed" he rolled his eyes
"Boy can we talk? What has been up with you lately? You never leave your apartment"
"What do you think it is?" He spat at mclooy
"Well I was just tryin to be nice"he crossed his arms
" ugh, I'm sorry it's just that..." Francis trailed off, words couldn't describe on how much he missed Steven "I just really miss Steven..." He looked down, simply talking about him made him want to break down
"Don't you send letters?"
"I do but.... It's not the same"Francis was now wishing these two months would go by as fast as they could, he leaned over the door and rubbed his face" I'm just... Scared"
"Scared of what?"
Francis sat down on the sofa looking up and the ceiling, mclooy followed in and sat down next to Francis
"I'm just scared something might happen to Steven... What if he gets hurt?.... What if he doesn't come back at all" Francis looked away, he could feel the tears in his eyes swell up like crazy
"Oh don't be silly Francis, he'll be fine"
"How could you be so sure? How come your so calm about this? Your own son is at the risk of getting hurt!"
Mclooy sighed and took a drag of his cigarette blowing out a large Cloud of smoke
"Because I know him, this ain't the first time he's went on leave, he's done it many times, I just got used to it and you should too, If your gonna date my son then you need to understand that this is his job, he can't just stop because your feelings got hurt"
Francis took that in, his words cut deep, but he was right, he was acting like a baby about this, but there was that feeling that he couldn't shake off, he loved Steven and cared for him, almost too much, but seeing how mclooy took this as an average thing he thought he should too
"I know you care for him but I assure you hes fine"
Francis sighed and looked over at mclooy
"Yeah I guess your right, Im sorry I've been like this, I guess I'm just not used to him not being around, but I'll try not to worry as much"
"Atta boy, now promise me to take things easier from now on"
"I will... ".
|7 weeks later|
7 weeks and Francis is still really sad to not see Steven, he still misses him but he tries to talk and open up more, at least he can actually hold a conversation with someone, Francis had marked the days on his calendar waiting, aching, for the day Steven comes back, he looked over at the cat clock that hanged off his wall, 10pm, he should get some sleep, he got dressed into his pj's and before he tucked himself under the covers he looked over the calendar one more time
"One more week, one more week" at that he sighed and drifted off to sleep.
|two days later|
Everyone was in their apartments while mclooy was outside, he was waiting for Steven, apparently he was getting off early, after a hour of waiting a familiar sound of boots hitting the ground was heard, mclooy looked up to see Steven running up
"Dad!"
"Steven!"
They hugged tightly, Steven missed his dad dearly
"How has it been since I was gone?"
"Pretty good, except Francis didn't take it too well, stuck in his apartment ever since you left"
Steven sighed
"Felt like that was going to happen, but I'm finally back, good to be home"
Mclooy whistled
Francis was in his apartment when he looked out the window to see where the whistle came from, when he saw Steven outside his eyes lit up like fireworks, he didn't waste any time, he ran down the stairs as fast as he could pushing everyone that was in his way
Once he was outside Steven held out his arms
"Francis!"
"Steven!"
Francis ran and threw his arms around Steven pulling him into a bone breaking embrace, Steven swooped Francis off his feet and spun him around, they laughed and tears ran down Francises cheeks, but not tears of worry or sorrow, tears of pure joy, he could finally smile again knowing his favorite person was back home
Steven put Francis down and took off his sunglasses looking into Francises tear stained eyes
"I missed you so so much... And now your home"
"I am, and I missed you more then you can imagine"
Francis wasted no time and pulled Steven into a loving kiss on the lips, their noses fitting like a perfect puzzle,he usually wasn't this lovey but he couldn't help it, he missed him too much, Steven pulled him closer as he practically melted into the kiss, he missed his home, his dad ,but he definitely missed loving Francis, Francis broke the kiss and looked at Steven, a soft smile creeping up on Francises face
"There's that smile... " Steven gently put his hands of Francises cheek and Francis held Stevens hand closer to his cheek
"Now why don't we get inside, it's getting cold"
"You two done yet?"
"Don't worry we're done dad"
Francis held Stevens hand and they walked into the apartment, everyone was happy to see Steven back, everyone was greeting and hugging him, when Steven got to his apartment he looked over at Francis, Francis slightly blushed as he looked down
"Hey... Can I stay the night and your place?"
Steven looked over at mclooy
"Fine by me"
Francis smiled and followed Steven inside his apartment, they lived right next to each other so it felt the same
|hours later|
It's night time so that means time to sleep, Steven could finally sleep in a comfy bed
Francis climbed under the covers and Steven slid in burying his face into Francises neck, Francis ran his fingers through Stevens hair, he really missed this
"Ready for bed?"
"You bet your ass"
They snuggled up warmly with each other and gave each other a kiss goodnight before falling asleep safely into each others arms
Mclooy walked by Stevens room and peeked Through the crack of the door
Steven and Francis were fast asleep still holding each other
Mclooy chuckled quietly before smiling
"Welcome home soldier."
END.
WOOO THIS TOOK FOREVER, Y'ALL DON'T JUDGE ME THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC, BUT I HOPE Y'ALL LIKED IT:3
#tnmn#thats not my neighbor steven#thats not my neighbor#fanfic#fluff#angst with a happy ending#milkplane#francis mosses#mclooy rudboys#steven rudboys#first fanfic#fan fiction#totally not based off a song
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Till we meet again part 4
Previous chapter here
Till we meet again Masterlist.
Pairing: childe/foul legacy x reader
Type: story, slow burn rekindling
Warnings: Mentnions of child s*lf h*rming near the end but nothing too graphic
There were a few things different from the foul legacy you saw before, albeit few as they were.
The most noticeable was his lack of speech, degrading to nothing more than a few clicks and squawks similar to a raven or a crow.
The second was the single eye on his mask blinked, maybe it did it before but you never noticed it till now.
The last was the cape, now turned to a pair of wings akin to a moth, still just as deep navy blue, with seemingly the stars shimmering in it when it hit light.
If it was anyone else you would almost call it beautiful. Though it was him, and it wasn't by choice, so it wouldn't be much of a compliment even if you did say it out loud.
The first couple days were horribly awkward, part of your contract was you had to sit and eat with him not just bring his food up. You tried asking what he'd like to eat, but he was still giving you the silent treatment so you just bought what you wanted in double portions.
The conversation wasn't much better with him practically being mute selectively or not. You talked about the few things you did for the parlor, going on "ride alongs" as it were with Hu Tao meeting clients. "To learn the business" was the excuse but truthfully you weren't paying much attention. Part of you saw it invasive since you weren't actually working there.
"I heard about what you did here as well, that you were the one that killed Rex Lapis, summoned osail, no wonder the fatui are on Liyues watch list now." You chuckled at the thought, Childe felt a bit of pride enter him again, but then he recalled the fight with the traveler that left him in this state and it all came back to him his situation.
This fucking sucked.
"Oh the replacement books should be coming in tonight as well. They must've paid a lot for that amount to come so quickly. It must suck not having much to do in the mean time. Zhongli had new ones from the ones you had come in so I hope you weren't in the middle of reading one." He didn't answer again, you sighed in frustration. "Look I know were not exactly on the best terms but I'm trying here ok? Can you at leat do the same?" He let out a squawk in your direction, you rolled your eyes. "Gee thanks."
Giving up you grab the plates and folded the table up, placing it next to night stand as it was really the only place it would fit.
"I'll be back for dinner, try not cause a ruckus while i'm out."
You walked downstairs with a sigh, putting the plates in the small kitchen that the parlor had.
"Hey mopey, how's the patient upstairs?"
You're still not used to how quiet Hu Tao appears. "Going about as well as you think it might." You add.
"Well at least there hasnt been any banging! Must mean they like you." Oof, you scoffed at that.
"Doubt that. He's barely said a word to me since I arrived."
"So it is a he. Interesting."
"Yes and before you try snooping anymore, I'm under contract not to go into details about it."
"I know I know, it's just so frustrating to have such an important secret like this be right under my nose! I can't even talk to Zhongli about what funeral rights to perform if it goes unwell!" She sighs dramatically and goes to sit on the counter your washing the dishes near. "To have a secret wane on the heart so small, let secrets lie till death do call." She laments. You roll your eyes at the poetry. Strange to hear such an eccentric person speak so elegantly, though you've now seen times where she takes her job very seriously with the customers that come in. She's grown on you that's for sure. Partially due to the fact she's the only other person you've talked to since arriving.
"Well he's not going to die any time soon, so get that thought out of your head Missy. I just wish he'd try a little to get along with me."
"Yes Zhongli did mention that this guest wasn't fond of many people, maybe try doing something with him instead of just meals?"
"That's easier said than done Hu Tao, he's under house arrest."
"Oh there's lots of things to do indoors! Board games, play music, painting, maybe buying a kamera and taking pictures outside will help the cabin fever."
"Or remind him of the situation he's in."
"Well it never hurts to try, you haven't seen much of Liyue yourself since being here. Unfortunate since there's so many nice place here. How about you buy some of the things I mentioned before to start!" She takes out a notepad and pencil that she had in her pocket, writing down a list of locations to get the items. "I know this must be difficult for both of you, but you seem nice enough to put a smile on anyone's face. I certainly don't regret meeting you. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before you are on good terms with him like he is with Zhongli." You smiled at the reassurance and dried your hands to pick up the list.
"You're sweet Hu Tao thank you. You sure you won't need me in the mean time?"
"I can handle things just fine here. Go out and enjoy yourself for a bit ok?"
You gave Hu Tao a hug goodbye, finishing putting the dishes away before grabbing a basket to put the items in. At some point you got a bunch of copies of papers with Hut Tao and Zhonglis signature so you can give the the vendors to put it on the Funeral Parlors tab. Though you did pay for some of it out of your own pocket, didn't seem right to put it all on them when it's your personal stuff.
It was sunny today, so you planned on having a snack near the docks before it came time to bring Childe his lunch.
Maybe cooking something from the mother country will help lift his spirits a bit.
You bought the items listed, a few board games, some canvases and oils along with a couple sketch books and carol. ( buying the thicker set ones as his current state left his hands not being able to hold much). Everyone was very accommodating for the most part. Though tension did rise a bit when you brought up being from Sneznhneya. You even bought a lute for the heck of it, you had no idea if he played, never did when you were together in 3 years, but you know he does like music. When it came time to go back you had seen a fair share of the Harbour, and walked the top bridges of the buildings to get a better view. It truly was a beautiful city, even if in the distance ships could be seen still picking up debree from the Jade Chamber, shame you couldn't see it when it was high in the air. You always heard it was Liyues prize possession. Maybe when it gets rebuilt you can visit some time.
The last items you bought were the ingredients for Shchi, a cabbage soup you often had when you were sick as a kid. A fond memory. You bought all the ingredients, taking care they were packaged well and the greens won't be squished before making your way back, the sun just beginning to set when you did.
Hu Tao talked while you cooked, you made sure to have enough portions for her to enjoy some as well as the lady at the front desk (who you learned only went by her title ferrylady. Macabe but at least you had something call her i guess?) . You were bombarded with questions about the food from home, for a while your job in that building was all forgotten, it was just two friends getting to know each other. You ladled the soup in two containers and put the basket of the items you bought around your arm and made your way up. You took note of the large packages of presumably books that laid waiting outside the door.
You knocked lightly on the door to let him know you were entering before maneuvering yourself as not to spill anything.
Coming in though, he was sleeping. You set the items down on the bedside table.
You haven't seen him sleep yet in this form, it was peaceful, there was no pensive look in his single eye or frustration. You truly do feel bad with the situation he's in. Out of curiosity you reached to pet the main of hair he had, it was soft like fur, thick and ruley due to lack of care. Does he even have a brush? You never entered the bathroom he had. Eventually though you worried the soup would grow cold so you began to shake him awake. "Childe? I brought dinner, can you wake up for me?" It took a bit more shaking till he grumbled awake, he flinched a bit upon realizing you're touching him, which you removed your hand promptly. "Sorry. The soup would get cold if I had you sleep any longer though."
You stand up, beginning the routine of taking out the folding table and placing the soup and sides on the table. At this point a smaller table that could fit in his bed was brought in since he didn't want to eat at the table with you, so the routine for setting that up also began as he rubbed the sleep out of his...eye, and groggily watched you in silence. Then he saw the soup you prepared and all the sneznhneyan sides along with it. He chirped in confusion.
"Nice right? I thought eating foreign food for so long must not be great for the palette. So I made the simplest recipes I could remember." You put the soup and sides down on his table along with the silverware. He hesitated for second till you stopped watching him and ate yourself.
Archons it was so good. He thought. Memories flooding back of being home with his sibling fighting over who got to help cook and helping wash the dishes with his parents after. He missed home. He didn't think he'd be here this long, he was meant to leave back to Sneznhneya 2 weeks ago. He refused to acknowledge the memories of eating dinner with you so many times before this.
"I bought some board and card games and paints to help pass the time. The books came in as well I just need to bring them in, but Hu Tao thought it might be nice to do something other than reading." You spoke, bringing him out of his daze. He chirped a bit in confirmation that he was listening.
That's process at least right? You still don't really know what he's saying but at least he's saying something.
You both ate in relative silence after that, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as it has been the last couple days now. You picked everything up and and set the items you bought and books on the shelf before bidding him a goodnight.
When you left he just stared at the door for couple minutes, then realized a couple minutes later he was crying. He tried to stop it, putting his hands to his face to rub them away, only to get mad at the reminder he only has one fucking eye now. He scratched at the scabs forming around his mask that he hoped the fur covered, recalling the night before all but taking something to try and cut the damn mask off.
He layed down on the bed, staring up at the new fabric that covered the canopy. He didn't know how much longer he could handle this, the weight of all of this finally settling in now that Zhongli wasn't visiting to give update on his progress to finding a cure. And archons did you being near make everything worse.
He never had regrets for his actions before. But if he just said yes to you buying a house with you, to taking less jobs for the fatui and refused to come to Liyue in the first place, then none of this would've happened. At the moment he wasn't regretting leaving you it was mostly just taking this job, getting so deep that he summoned a God and everything. He laughed a bit how earlier in the day he felt pride. Pride? Fuck. He laughed again, as he always did to try and soothe himself.
Zhongli better come back with an update soon.
.....
#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#ajax x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#foul legacy x reader
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Leap of Faith: Sokkla Saturdays 2022
Day 2: Each other's firsts
On FF.net//On AO3
Here goes day 2! This time, a standalone new story, and a Modern AU at that. Hope you enjoy!
We need to talk.
Never had he read a more ominous text message.
Sokka winced, covering his face with a hand. Was this really it? Were they, whatever they were, really over, after all this time? He supposed it was guaranteed to happen, in a way… though, with Azula being as she was, he actually expected her to show up one day with a tall, bulky, perfect rich boyfriend, with no recollection of ever having been Sokka's girlfriend… because she wasn't. Technically, she wasn't. He had never asked… neither had she. So, technically… they weren't really together. They never had been.
It was very strange that those thoughts would be comforting in the face of a message that sent cold daggers through his stomach, making him dread that he'd lose her, after all this time.
Still, what was he going to do, beg her to change her mind? To give him a chance? Maybe she had done this simply because he was an indecisive moron, and if that was the case, he certainly had it coming. But somehow, those golden eyes, beautiful as they were, made him feel so self-aware since the very first day they had found his own…
He was scared of rejection. Scared of losing her. Scared of a life without her.
Thus… she was the one who called the shots. She was the one who would determine the actual basis of their relationship, if there was even one to begin with. People constantly assumed they were dating… but he knew the truth, as did Azula: theirs was a casual, no-strings-attached sort of relationship and it always had been. So, whatever she wanted to talk about, he'd have to face it while being as level-headed as he possibly could hope to be.
He answered directly, curtly, without even a smidge of humor. Whatever she wanted, he wasn't sure he cared to lighten the situation somehow. If nothing else, the likely end of their romantic potential was better off mourned properly. She responded quickly, letting him know where they'd meet, and he sighed as he resolved to go to her once his afternoon classes were over.
He marched towards the university campus's basketball courts with his bag slung over one of his heavy shoulders, about half an hour after the sun had set. The local teams didn't train today, so it was the ideal moment to take advantage of the court and play for a few hours, practicing his shots in hopes of perfecting a tricky angle for a three-pointer… he actually expected Azula would be doing exactly that when he arrived, but he found her sitting on a bench right by the court instead. He bit his lip, approaching slowly, unable to help the instinctive fluttering of his stomach at the sight of her, as beautiful as she ever was.
"Hey," he said, simply. She hummed in response, arms folded, legs crossed. "Hope you weren't waiting long."
"Not that long," she said, simply. Sokka breathed deeply.
"Want something to drink?" he asked.
"You're buying?" she responded, immediately. He huffed.
"If you ask nicely…" he said, unable to hold back a smidge of teasing: she finally looked at him, her eyes so skeptical he couldn't possibly defend against their glare. "Okay, fine, gee. Can't even ask nicely indeed, can she? No, no, no…"
"Want me to beg on my hands and knees while we're at it?" she asked. Sokka couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Oh, you think it would be funny?"
"Funny because I don't think that's possible for you. You're too proud to do something like that," Sokka smiled. "Me? Oh, I'd be on my hands and knees for you any day, but that's because I'm a pushover and you're anything but."
"Right," Azula said, raising an eyebrow as Sokka set down his bag on the corner of the bench.
"Well, then, wait here while I get you a… coffee? Tea? Iced tea? Soda? Whatever you…"
"Whatever you'll have will do," Azula said, simply. Sokka raised an eyebrow.
"Not in the mood for anything specific, then?"
"Not particularly," Azula said.
She sounded nervous… anxious. As though she wanted to get this over with… and as though she wanted to delay it, too. If she really wanted to rush through it, she wouldn't have allowed him to treat her to a drink at all… he eyed her warily before marching up to the closest vending machine, tapping her favorite soda twice before casting a quick glance in her direction: her foot swayed back and forth in a rhythm, she seemed focused… she hadn't brought a basketball with her today even though they were at the court. She liked playing with him whenever they had some time off, this was a frequent meeting spot for them, especially on days when no one else was making use of the sporting facilities…
Sokka gritted his teeth as he focused on his task again. Well, so much for delaying the inevitable. Whatever she wanted, she'd get… he'd see to that. He'd always hoped to do right by her… and if this was what she wanted, he had no right to argue against it.
He returned, handing the cold canned drink wordlessly to Azula. She nodded in his direction as he took his seat beside her. They opened their drinks, they sipped them…
And in all that time, Azula didn't say a word.
"What did you want to talk about?" Sokka asked after he finished over half his drink, unable to mask his misery upon saying those words. Azula grimaced, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes. "I mean, you did ask me here to talk, so… what's up? Want to talk about the weather? Did your basketball get busted and you want to ask me to lend you mine, or…?"
"I… no," Azula huffed, rolling her eyes as Sokka eyed her with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, you're doing an awful lot of not-talking for someone who wanted to talk," Sokka concluded, and Azula growled softly under her breath. "I'm just saying…"
"You're annoying," Azula retorted, simply. He sighed: there was never any telling what was going through her mind. Was she upset? Was she irritable? Was she actually enjoying this conversation somehow? It was ridiculous that the last thing could be a possibility, and yet that was how difficult it was to read Azula most times.
"Well, what else is new. Been hearing that one from you since we were toddlers," Sokka said, breathing out slowly and relaxing on the bench. She'd talk when she wanted to talk, then. He had nothing to do but wait.
"Why are you…?" Azula said, gritting her teeth and eyeing him with uncertainty. "You're taking everything way too seriously for your standards today."
"Am I not supposed to?" Sokka asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. "Want me to make a joke about our, uh, impending break-up? Because I don't really think I…"
"Our what? Did you just…? Break-up?"
Sokka's stomach dropped, and then his heart seemed to flutter. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her in foolish hope…
"You… said you wanted to talk?" he said. "I mean… maybe that's not what you meant, but that's what everyone says when they want to break up, as far as I know, so…!"
"If I wanted to break up, I would've just said we're breaking up, I wouldn't have gone about it so roundaboutly…"
"Wait, what?! Through text messages?"
"Why not?"
"But that's…! That's mean," Sokka pouted. Azula shot him a skeptical glare again.
"What else is new? Been hearing that one from you since we were toddlers, too," she ridiculed him, but somehow, Sokka's chest hadn't lost whatever wild hope had taken hold of it, because…
Because she didn't want them to break up. She hadn't called him for that reason. She would have said she wanted to break up, bluntly, if that was what she had been going for… so it wasn't. It wasn't! They weren't over, so that meant…!
"Besides, how can we break up if we're not really…? I mean, we're not actually…" Azula said, with a skeptical smile.
"Oh. That's why it's not a break-up?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula huffed. "You know what? Just clarify this to me: whatever it is we are, it's not over, is it?"
"It's… not," Azula said, glancing at him furtively: Sokka disregarded the trepidation in her eyes as he let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Well, then… heh. I guess I freaked out for no reason," he smiled a little. "Want me to joke around now? Now that I don't think you're dumping me, I can definitely do it much more easily…"
"There's nothing to dump anyway, so… don't be ridiculous," Azula said, shaking her head. Sokka grinned at her.
"Alright, alright. What do you want to talk about, then?" he asked. Azula gritted her teeth, running a hand over her hair as she leaned forward. "Um… did someone die?"
"Of course not."
"Okay. You're not going to transfer to another university?" Sokka asked. Azula let out a soft huff of amusement as he shrugged. "Look, I'm just trying to get through all the possibilities that go through my head right now. Need me to stop guessing?"
"You probably should stop. You're not even close to the right track," Azula said, rolling her eyes as she leaned back again.
"Fine, then. I'll wait for you to say it," Sokka said, with a shrug.
That, he knew, was a dangerous choice to make: it was no secret that Azula's greatest flaws were her stubbornness and pride. Most other problems she faced seemed to stem from those sources, and their conjunction usually resulted in one very particular issue…
Said issue seemed ready to rear its head right then and there as the young woman opened her mouth and closed it again. As she shifted in her seat, breathed deeply, chest heaving as though she had finished running a marathon… and then she settled down again with what could only appear to be a disappointed sigh.
It was no secret for Sokka that she struggled with communicating anything other than solid, logical, blunt facts. She was certainly talented at mocking others, at ridiculing whoever earned her scorn, at unleashing sarcasm at the drop of a hat… but not so much when it came to conveying anything she deemed irrational. Sokka breathed deeply, suspecting immediately that whatever ailed her would be related to feelings… to sentimentality she typically scoffed at whenever she saw it in anyone else. She never failed to ridicule her brother for all his relationship drama, never failed to laugh during so-called emotional moments in romance movies, never failed to roll her eyes at people calling her insensitive for not being moved by a deeply touching scene in a book, a TV show or a heartwarming song…
Sokka had always suspected she wasn't truly immune to what she'd deem sentimentality, but perhaps due to having spent all her life mocking it, she was utterly appalled by becoming just like everyone she had laughed at since childhood…
And that meant she wouldn't talk about any such subjects easily. Hence her numerous attempts to speak, only for her to shut down quickly right afterwards. Zuko had occasionally called Sokka an 'Azula whisperer', as he somehow seemed to read through her when no one else could comprehend her thought process… Sokka, frankly, didn't think he did it all that well, but he certainly did better at it than Zuko, which Sokka thought wasn't saying much. Still, at a lack of a proper answer or a way to read through Azula now, he had to think of another solution, a way to break the deadlock in which she had trapped herself, with no apparent way out.
"Okay…" he said, and she groaned – her reaction came off to him as acute fear of failure now, of having disappointed him, yet again stemming from the pride that seemed to rule her every choice. "I have an idea."
"An idea?" Azula repeated.
"You didn't bring a ball, from what I saw, but I did. Kind of figured I'd challenge you to a game if you really wanted us to break up, see if I could beat you, and if I could… then I'd cajole you into not breaking up with me!" Sokka declared, with a proud grin. Azula's skepticism returned with full strength, and her previous discomfort appeared to dwindle for it.
"If that had been my intent, I wouldn't have agreed to those terms," Azula said, bluntly. Sokka grimaced but sighed.
"I suppose not, but hey, you said that's not what you were after, so… we can play anyway," he said, smiling again. Azula raised an eyebrow. "You're really good with three-pointers, aren't you? How about this: do a couple of throws, I'll stand back-to-back with you, as if I were keeping the opposite team off you… that way you don't have to look at me, and when you throw the ball, you'll gather the impulse to both get a three-pointer and tell me what you wanted to say. How about it?"
"That…" Azula blinked blankly. "That might not work."
"Maybe. But it's bound to be better to have something else to do rather than just fretting about what you want to say," Sokka smiled, leaning down to rummage in his bag and withdraw his personal basketball. "How about it?"
He wasn't surprised when she agreed with a nod– he knew her quirks and her preferences back and forth, and he had known all too well that being in the court, throwing hoops, would be likely to improve her mood when she was troubled. It was the way it had been since their childhood, and that reality hadn't changed much now that they were young adults.
So, once she finished her drink, Sokka handed the ball to Azula and they stepped into the empty court – the campus's night lights allowed them to play for as long as they pleased, even if night had already fallen. Azula stood at the familiar three-points line, dribbling as naturally as ever, while Sokka took a defensive stance behind her, arms outstretched as if he had actual rivals to fend off.
"Alright! I'm keeping them busy!" Sokka declared. Azula snorted, smiling at him from over her shoulder.
"Good for you. Such a good defense against our very intimidating, invisible opponents…" she said. Sokka snickered.
"See how reliable I am? I bet this is why they won't let men and women play on the same official teams, you know? If they did, heh, you and I would have taken every league by storm by now."
"Oh, I don't doubt it," Azula smirked, shaking her head.
She dribbled again, then took up the proper stance to throw the ball. A familiar, practiced stance – all her motions had been rehearsed until they had become second nature to her over time. She raised the ball, set on exerting the right strength, the accuracy, every bit of precision and focus…
The ball slid cleanly through the net, and she smirked proudly. Behind her, however, Sokka raised an eyebrow as she walked to pick up the ball that continued to rebound on the court's floor.
"You forgot something."
"I didn't…" Azula started to rebuff him… and then she remembered why she had been throwing a three-pointer in the first place.
She covered her mouth with a hand, shooting Sokka a worried glance before rushing to pick up the ball indeed. She returned to her spot shortly afterwards, and Sokka smiled a little as he up took his defensive stance once more.
"Remember this time…"
"I remember. Don't… don't talk to me," Azula huffed. Sokka had to stifle a chuckle at her bashful tone.
He didn't answer this time. He simply moved from side to side, hearing her breathing, her every single motion as she flexed her knees, as she prepared herself to throw the ball…
It rebounded against the ring, and not a single word left her lips.
Sokka blinked blankly, glancing at her over his shoulder as yet again, she stepped forward to pick up the ball. This time, however, she was blushing crimson.
"It's okay if it didn't get in…" Sokka said, and Azula shook her head.
"Didn't get in just because I was trying to focus on saying the damn thing and I… lost focus on the throw," she said. "Won't happen again."
"You know, you told me I should stop talking, but maybe if I did you'd feel more comfortable," Sokka said, smirking a little. "I could do some sportsy narrations, you know? Of the sort you hate…"
"Don't you dare," Azula hissed. Sokka snickered deviously as she took her position again.
"Well, I won't as long as you say what you need to say in the next throw. How about it?"
"Doesn't suit you to manipulate me and you know it," Azula retorted, dribbling and hoisting the ball again into a throwing position.
She breathed deeply behind him, and Sokka glanced over his shoulder, certain that she'd do it now. Perhaps he'd move around a bit, to genuinely simulate the hecticness of a game… but whatever happened next, she'd certainly share what she had been keeping to herself so far. The threat of hearing Sokka imitate the sports casters Azula couldn't stand – she would click the mute option at once whenever they watched any games– would surely suffice to convince her, she wouldn't hesitate…
He started moving from side to side, waving his arms the way he would have if there had been another team trying to get through his defense and to attack Azula. Behind him, Azula took a deep breath, heart in her throat as she focused both on the ball and her words, the words she needed to convey to him…
She jumped, arms outstretched, and tossed the ball powerfully just as she finally exclaimed what she had called Sokka here for:
"I want to have sex with you!"
The ball rebounded against the board, the inner edge of the ring, and slipped through the net successfully.
Sokka's pretense of a defense crumbled as though he were playing against a very superior enemy, even if there was no one there.
He nearly fell over forward, losing his balance, blinking himself awake from what had to be a ridiculous dream… because she hadn't actually said that, had she? The reason why she had called him here, the thing she wanted to talk about… was this?
He glanced at her in shock over his shoulder to find her frozen on the spot, head bowed in an unequivocal sign of embarrassment. She shrank slowly into herself, though… crouching and hugging her knees to her chest.
"Azula…?"
"Don't…! Fuck, I don't even know why I…! Don't say anything. Just… don't."
Sokka breathed out, watching her helplessly for a moment. His immediate instinct was to try and help her reason her way out of whatever feelings she was experiencing… but perhaps he should give her a moment first. He needed one himself, anyway…
He walked absentmindedly to collect the ball, his heart racing: had she truly called him here to say that? It was hard to fathom, it certainly was the last thing that had crossed his mind… and not because the concept hadn't crossed his mind. Oh, it certainly crossed it often, perhaps often enough that Azula would be disgusted by him for it… but he had never imagined the day would come when she would outright ask for this from him. He wasn't going to bring it up, no, let alone would he have pressured her into it… everything about their relationship had always been shaky, and Sokka had never failed to hesitate at every turn out of fear that she might lose interest in him eventually. The notion that they might reach this point eventually certainly hadn't been ruled out at any point in time… but she had never indicated interest in moving matters along in that direction. Sokka always imagined they'd have to be an established couple before so much as thinking about it… and yet today she had both confirmed that they weren't one, and said she wanted to sleep with him.
She was, without a doubt, the most confusing person he had ever met.
He returned to her, sitting before her this time. She hadn't changed positions at all, and even seemed to tense up further because he sat before her. His hand rose, falling gently upon her head, stroking her hair slowly. She didn't react in any way to his gesture, but he feared she would lash out at him sooner than later… once the stubborn pride kicked in fully, he suspected.
"Azula," he called her, softly. She shuddered, shaking her head impulsively. "It's okay. I heard you. I just… have a few questions."
"Well, I… don't have answers. So… save it," she said, breathing deeply. "Forget what I said, it's not important, it's…"
"It's very important to me," Sokka said: there wasn't even a smidge of humor in his voice, and she tensed up once she noticed as much. "I… I'm not taking this lightly, okay? And neither are you, I can tell. So… how about you tell me what, exactly, brought this about?"
"I… I don't think I can. I don't know, it's just… it's stupid. My head's just full of stupid nonsense, just… it doesn't matter. We don't… we can just go back to our dorms, forget about it, I…"
"I want to play a game."
His statement, so random and confusing, startled her out of her dismissing, self-deprecating reverie. Azula raised her head, eyeing him in perplexity: that he had spoken the words so seriously, with a light frown, rendered her speechless.
"It's an old game… we played it a few times, didn't we?" Sokka said, breathing deeply. "Just… not this way, we didn't. But we can do it now. How about it?"
"What game are you talking about?" Azula asked, frowning warily.
"Truth or dare?"
Azula's jaw dropped. Sokka offered her a weak smile as he raised the ball in her direction.
"This way, you get to boss me around, make me do stupid shit if you want to, while you answer my questions. How about it?"
"I… don't follow. How would we go about it?" Azula asked, eyeing the ball with confusion. "I… you know I pick dare every time, there's no point to playing this game if you want to understand what's going on with me. I mean, I don't understand it either, so…"
"We'll play it this way: if you score… it means dare," Sokka said. Azula frowned. "If you miss, it means truth. In my case, it'll be the other way around. Whenever I score, you get to ask me a question, and if I don't, you can tell me to eat my own shoelaces or whatever you want to…"
"I wouldn't tell you to do that," Azula said, grimacing.
"Right, because then if I dare you to kiss me, it'd be very unhygienic?"
"Exactly."
Sokka smiled before pushing himself up to his feet. His outstretched hand only remained empty for a moment, for Azula rose to her feet as well with his help moments later.
"Want me to start?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged. "You can sabotage me too, you know? Try to block me, steal the ball, make me miss my shot somehow…"
"Sounds like you want a dare after all," Azula said, with a weak grin. Sokka's smile strengthened.
"I don't, but that does mean I get to mess with you when your turn arrives. My shot first, yours next, and we'll keep on taking turns until we get everything off our chests, alright?" he said, rolling the ball around his waist and raising his eyebrows. "Ready yet?"
"Of course," Azula said: her hand darted off to try to steal the basketball, but Sokka defended expertly, dribbling it away from her.
She forced him to pivot on one foot, twirling in a way that forced him further away from the ring: even so, his superior height saw to it that he could still feint to the right and successfully aim a shot, slightly closer to the free-throw line than to the three-pointer one.
The ball bounced on the ring, but it still slid cleanly into the net moments afterwards. Sokka snickered and hooted in proud triumph as Azula huffed, hands on her hips.
"Well, then, what shall it be, my lady?" Sokka asked, bowing pompously towards her. Azula raised an eyebrow at his foolish display.
"I'm tempted to say 'never call me that again', but unfortunately, this isn't a dare," she decided. "Truth, then?"
"Truth, indeed."
"Do you… think what I said is stupid?" she asked, frowning slightly. Sokka huffed.
"Stupid? Like hell it is. It's… it's a big deal. A really big decision and I… I was caught by surprise," Sokka said, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry if I didn't react the way you wanted me to, but…"
"I don't know how I wanted you to react, so don't worry about that," Azula admitted. Sokka picked up the ball, passing it at her by flinging it with a single hand – she caught it smoothly, dribbling slowly.
"I'm curious, if you want to know, and confused… and I'm definitely intrigued by the idea, but I'm way more worried about you than eager to do as you asked, alright?" Sokka said. Azula's eyes widened. "I know you're not exactly in the habit of communicating touchy-feely things with people, you've always hated that… but I really want to know if something bad happened, and if you're doing this for the wrong reasons."
"What are the wrong reasons?" Azula asked, with a weak smile.
"I don't know… being terminally ill and thinking this is your only chance?" Sokka asked, grimacing. "Being pressured into it by annoying people who took to commenting on your personal life and made you feel lesser because you hadn't fucked anyone yet? I don't know…"
"Heh," Azula smiled slightly still, and Sokka grimaced.
"Is it something like that?"
"Not particularly," Azula said, breathing deeply. "But it was your turn to answer, not mine, so…"
"Ugh. Fine," Sokka huffed, marching up to her threateningly.
Azula was ready for him, goading him with a slow dribble that picked up speed only as a taunt: she feinted to the left, then twirled quickly to the right, dashing into the key. Sokka followed, but her head-start ensured that she could speed up faster and deliver a layup that landed perfectly, bounding on the board's square in the right angle to slip through the net. Her relieved smile at the successful score made Sokka shake his head in disbelief.
"Dare, then?" he said. Azula nodded promptly. "Kiss me."
"How predictable," Azula smirked. Sokka shrugged.
"French kiss!" he added: her reaction was a burst of laughter that saw him pouting slightly. "Come on, do you want me to keep making it worse? Because I could! I totally could!"
"You do remember that we've done that a million times already?" Azula shook her head, marching up to Sokka with a slight grin. "You're a dork."
Sokka only had a small window of time to smile before Azula's hands caught his cheeks, pulling him in for a passionate kiss: she didn't waste any time with fulfilling his amendment, too, letting her tongue glide past his lips, taunting and prodding his own. Sokka's arms looped around her waist, and Azula indulged in that moment for much longer than needed – it was just a dare, wasn't it? She could have cut it short quickly after the first contact between their tongues, and yet…
Was she trying to delay matters? To avoid having to fulfill more dares and truths based on their game? Or was she, even, trying to prepare them both for the fulfillment of her earlier request? Sokka stiffened at the thought, and yet Azula kept going – her body leaned into him as she took full command and dominance between them. Sokka's hands rose to her shoulders, wondering if that alone would suffice for her to grow self-aware again… but the truth was that Azula's problems weren't to be found in physical affection. Somehow, they had settled into exchanging kisses of varying depth early enough in their relationship – even touching each other to a certain degree of intimacy had been perfectly feasible, and they had cuddled comfortably countless times, too…
The one real problem between them was verbal communication: on her end, out of her strange stubbornness and pride. On his end, out of fear that she might reject him if he said or did anything she didn't care for. They were perfectly well matched physically, and the kiss that rendered them breathless proved as much.
"Holy shit…" Sokka blurted out once they breathed heavily together. Azula chuckled, her brow against his.
"I've practiced this enough with you that I could go the extra mile with that dare just because. So… you know, make it a challenging one next time," she suggested.
"Uh… yeah, I don't think so. Just score again, I want to do that again…"
Azula laughed, complying even if it was against the terms of their deal and game. It was one way to go about heating up matters between them until they were ready to reach the next level, Sokka supposed… but that wasn't something he would do until he was fully certain that Azula wanted this for the right reasons.
As ever, the kiss ended on her terms – the reason being that tilting her head up caused her contracted neck to hurt, of course, so as ever, reason trampled over emotion entirely. Sokka didn't protest, cheeks healthily flushed as Azula picked up the ball and flung it in his direction.
"Snap out of it or you're going to fail this one," Azula warned him. Sokka giggled carelessly. "Or is it you want to fail, Sokka?"
"Honestly, Azula? I don't really care much about whether I get truth or dare," he said, with a shrug. "Though if I do fail, I hope your dare is…"
"It won't be another kiss. My ideas are much more nefarious than that," Azula declared, sternly. Sokka chuckled.
"I can't wait to find out what they'll be, then," he said, dribbling and walking back as Azula stepped forward, intent on defending properly this time.
He made to throw the ball, though he failed to trick her with another feint: Azula's hand struck the ball powerfully, almost causing him to lose it, so he simply fit his hands around it properly anew before throwing quickly, taking advantage of his superior height to do so…
The ball bounded against the board and, with a simple bounce on the ring, fell back to the ground, beyond the net.
"Heh, how careless and sloppy," Azula smirked. Sokka huffed, hands on his hips. "Now, what to do with you…?"
"Well, now, when you say it that way I actually get kind of excited, Azula," he teased. She scoffed in his direction and rolling her eyes.
"If that's so… then I have the perfect one for you: try to lick… your elbow."
"W-wait, what? Hey! No one can do that!"
"Hence why I said 'try'," Azula smirked.
Sokka pouted, but he raised his arm regardless and stuck his tongue out: it was a foolish sort of dare for sure, and if he had a chance to give Azula a reason to laugh, he'd do so… but he certainly had hoped she was going elsewhere with this dare when she paused at the word 'lick'.
After about two minutes of laughing at Sokka's failures to reach his elbow with the tip of his tongue, regardless of his best effort to do so, Azula finally cut him some slack and considered the dare had been fulfilled. Sokka glared at her sternly as she picked up the ball, and his defense was much more serious this time: without a referee to properly judge them for their choices, Sokka dared even wrap his arms around Azula when she tried to slip past him, a technique he resorted to on occasion to throw off her rhythm and amuse her, too. Even so, she turned around, forcing him to twirl with her as she attempted to throw the ball properly, regardless of his attempts to destabilize her balance…
The ball bounced away from the ring, and Azula's enthusiasm faded at once.
"Uh… oops," Sokka grimaced, releasing her from his grip and standing upright. "We can do it again, I'll be good now…"
"You don't know how to behave yourself, so… don't bother," Azula said, swallowing hard. "It was the point, though, wasn't it? To… to make me talk so, well, just… do it. Why not, right? Just… just ask."
Her devious calm had been replaced by nervous anxiety again. Sokka breathed out slowly, tightening his arms around her waist. Azula shivered, but she didn't shove him off her.
"Do you want me to dare you to do something more dangerous than a kiss next time?"
Azula's eyes widened. She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
"Sokka… I'm not a good sport when there's no referee, same as you," she said. "This is your one and only warning: either you ask what you really want to ask, or I'll take your very first question as what you want to know, even if it's a mistake on your part, so…"
"It's not a mistake. It's what I want to ask right now," Sokka said, with a gentle smile. Azula's cheeks flushed slightly. "Well? Should I go for something a little wilder than what we've done so far?"
"I… don't know. Only if you want to," Azula said, blinking blankly. "I mean, obviously there's limits, but… I expect your common sense will see to you understanding that."
"You trust me a lot if that's the case," Sokka chuckled, burying his face in her shoulder. Azula swallowed hard. "But alright… I'll try to think of a wilder dare than a French kiss or an elbow lick."
"That one was mine and it was much more amusing, mind you," Azula said, smirking. Sokka chuckled, pressing his lips quickly to her cheek before pulling away.
"You're too clever," he said, marching up to take the ball, as it was his turn next.
He thought Azula had mumbled something as he walked away, but he didn't catch it properly. He raised an eyebrow before leaning to pick up the ball, and she rushed in to defend the hoop as soon as it was in his hands.
His next shot slid smoothly through the net, thus, Azula had a chance to have a question answered. Sokka waited patiently, unsure of what she might go for, especially as her cheeks were slightly redder over whatever she was thinking of. He raised an eyebrow as Azula finally settled on a question, letting out a deep sigh before blurting it out.
"Had you ever thought about it… before I asked?" she said, without going into specifics. She didn't need to. Sokka huffed.
"I don't know if you want to know."
"Is that a 'yes'?"
"It's a 'way more often than you'll be comfortable with', rather."
The fact that she actually smiled took him by surprise: had she thought about it more often than he had expected her to, too? His own blood rushed upwards as he, yet again, found himself utterly mystified by the countless puzzles Azula ever presented for him.
"You'll have to be more specific," Azula said, and her smile gained a devious edge. Sokka chuckled, hands on his hips.
"You're something else," he said, smiling fondly at her. "Well, then… when we watch any romantic movies you find stupid, I think about it if there's a sex scene. I can't help but be an idiot who imagines us in their place, so…"
"That's very stupid for sure," Azula smiled. Sokka chuckled.
"Happens at random when I look at you, too," he said. Azula raised an eyebrow. "Want me to elaborate? It's hard to, honestly… see, I can be talking with you about something as common as whatever shitty meme compilation video I was watching on Youtube, and then you give me that judgmental smirk of yours and I just…"
"What, really?" Azula laughed. "Every time I judge you? Then that does mean you think about it every single second of the day…"
"Well…! Not every single second, but damn it…!" Sokka blurted out, blushing as Azula chuckled, throwing her head back in relief. "Ack, you just have too much fun at my expenses. Clever, wicked basketball prodigy, you…"
She chuckled still as he picked up the ball and tossed it at her, as good as marking the end of his answers: he had a rather urgent question to ask now, so he'd certainly make sure not to let her score in this round.
Azula attempted to dodge and slip past his defenses, but Sokka appeared to be taking matters much more seriously now: he timed his jump perfectly so his fingertips, if nothing else, would alter the trajectory of the ball… and so, it didn't even hit the board as it dropped on the ground, and Azula glared at him, all amusement gone as Sokka smirked in her direction.
"I hate it when you do that," she said. He shrugged.
"Perks of my teenage growth spurt. We were narrowly the same height once, but…"
"I know we were. And I'm still the better player even if we're not anymore," Azula said, stubbornly. Sokka chuckled.
"And you're still answering me with the truth, even if you are."
Her face twisted into a grimace as she glanced at him… to find him shy and insecure, to a fault. He breathed deeply, however, and raised an eyebrow.
"You don't, uh, find it disgusting that I thought about you in that light for a long time, and way more often than you expected?"
"Disgusting?" Azula repeated. Sokka shrugged.
"You know, men are gross, they're just thinking about sex, they don't care about anything and think with their penises…" Sokka recited. Azula smiled at him.
"Sounds about right, but I've been warned about that since ages ago," she said. Sokka winced. "If anything… I'd have been much more surprised if you'd said it hadn't occurred to you. I mean, we're not exactly… official or anything, but it would have been unflattering if you hadn't wanted to, well…"
"Oh, I want to sleep with you," Sokka said, bluntly. Azula's eyes widened, cheeks flushing. "But… eh, never mind, game on!"
"But what? Hey!" Azula gasped: Sokka grinned as he picked up the ball, dribbling carelessly away from her. "Don't dodge the issue just like that! Sokka!"
"Game on, I said!" Sokka grinned. "Come on, either you stop me or I'll score…!"
He threw the ball. It slid cleanly through the net. Azula eyed him skeptically and Sokka froze on the spot.
"You scored. So… truth, isn't that right?" she smirked. Sokka blinked blankly: "What were you going to say, Sokka? 'But' what?"
"Eh…" Sokka swallowed hard, lowering his hands slowly as he gazed at her with uncertainty. "I just thought… that you matter to me in too many ways, so even if I want this, I want you to be happy and safe far more. So… well, I always figured we weren't ready for that, and that's why we never really tried our luck with it? So… I thought you just didn't want to go for it, and until you did, I was happy enough to just… to be your friend. With, uh, some benefits, I suppose."
"Sounds like you need to switch plans for the full benefits package, huh?" Azula said, with a weak grin. Sokka chuckled at her odd joke.
"Well, if the full package is available for me to switch to…" he said, with a shrug. "I'll gladly do it. But… on your terms. Alright?"
Azula swallowed hard, holding his gaze as he smiled, walking away to pick up the ball and toss it at her. Azula breathed deeply, holding the ball between her hands for a moment that seemed to extent for too long. Sokka stepped up, poking the ball, nudging her through it.
"Hey? Next shot?" he asked.
Azula breathed deeply, glancing at the backboard again. Her fingers trembled before she took a shot, her stance off – the ball bounced off the ring purposefully, and Sokka glanced at her in surprise.
"Azula…"
"Ask what you really want to know," she said, unable to meet his gaze.
Sokka frowned but stepped closer, taking her into his arms so her face would rest upon his chest. He didn't know if he would soothe her by doing this, but he certainly hoped to try.
"What brought this about? Why now?" Sokka asked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "For the record, I'm not against it, if you're sure. But…"
"You don't want me doing this for the wrong reasons," Azula finished for him. Sokka nodded promptly.
She breathed deeply, burying her face in his chest – not meeting his eyes, it seemed, helped somewhat. Her inability to speak her mind, to truly verbalize what her feelings were, seemed to be genuinely frustrating for her. She gritted her teeth, clutching Sokka's shirt tightly…
"I… I want to know what it's like," she whispered, simply. Sokka raised an eyebrow, though his hands continued to stroke her hair reassuringly as she spoke. "I want to try it. It's… not much deeper than that. I just don't know how to say this without feeling like an idiot, though, I… I don't know how to move anything forward, I…"
"You're not an idiot for saying what you've said," Sokka whispered. Azula shuddered in his arms.
"I… I judge myself enough for it, even if you don't."
"Why?" he asked, softly. Azula let out a soft laugh.
"Why? B-because… we're not really together, are we? We're not… committed or whatever. We've known each other forever and this is… it's not something we've done before."
"Same was true when we first kissed," Sokka whispered. "But I suppose we had some rather annoying people keeping us locked in a room until we did it, huh?"
"Heh…" Azula swallowed hard, reliving that awkward moment in a party, so many years ago, when a certain friend had deviously schemed to make them kiss for the first time.
"Guess people don't do that anymore once you're an adult. We don't get to hide behind 'they made me do it', now, do we?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.
"We… shouldn't hide behind anything, should we?" she said. Sokka sighed and nodded.
"Honestly, we shouldn't… but I guess maybe we're still too immature to stop doing that," Sokka smiled sadly. Azula shook her head. "We have a lot of baggage and history here, so… if you're worried this could be a mess, well, it's fair enough to worry. You don't have to…"
"I don't… don't want to lose you."
Sokka's eyes widened.
She never said such things without feeling utterly foolish about it afterwards… and, of course, she cringed over her own words a moment after uttering them. Sokka, however, embraced her even more tightly.
"You won't even if we don't do this," Sokka whispered. Azula shook her head. "Azula…"
"W-we're not really… we're not… w-what if someone else shows up and…? W-what if you're a better fit with someone who's not…? Who's not an idiot who can't even say she wants you in her life? I… I…"
"Azula…" Sokka rubbed her back gently as she buried her face in his neck.
"I'm… embarrassing," she blurted out, and Sokka smiled fondly as he shook his head, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. "I sound like a neurotic, idiot girlfriend and I'm not… n-not your girlfriend. Maybe neurotic, and an idiot, though…"
"You're not, but the girlfriend part is… well, questionable," Sokka said, with a weak smile. Azula stiffened in his arms. "I-I mean, well… honestly, I never knew if… if you felt this way about me."
She didn't respond to his words. Sokka breathed deeply, rubbing her back reassuringly again.
"I got lucky that the mean girl who got me in trouble in preschool was my neighbor across the street," Sokka said, with a gentle smile. Azula actually let out a huff of laughter at those words. "Even luckier that she wanted to teach me how to play basketball at the hoop dangling over her garage door… and that she became the best friend I'd ever have. That she became my first crush, too…"
"I was your…?" Azula said. Sokka hummed.
"You're not about to say that's embarrassing, are you?"
"Well… it kind of is."
"Azula!" he squeaked, and she couldn't hold back a much stronger burst of laughter. "Honestly, girl…"
"I'm… somewhat sorry. Teasing you is always fun…" she said. Sokka smiled, shaking his head.
"Can't pretend that wasn't part of why I liked you, so… I forgive your devious teasing, you clever mastermind, you," he said, swaying in place with her. "Thing is… I never really dared ask you if you'd be my girlfriend because something told me you'd just say 'no'."
"I…" Azula stiffened in his arms. Sokka sighed, rubbing her back again.
"My own insecurities are to blame for that one, I suppose… but I just didn't want to come off as a cringeworthy idiot, you know? And the way you scoffed at all romance when we were teenagers, like it was so ridiculous that everyone was falling in and out of love… I suppose I assumed you were simply revolted by the concept of stupid teenage love, and I was afraid you'd just shut me out if I started doing the same things our friends and classmates were up to. That you'd think I was… well, as dumb as all of them too. I wanted to be on your team, you know? The… the cool team, heh. We were too interesting for that sort of thing, felt like…"
"At least, we pretended to be," Azula responded. Sokka smiled and nodded.
"I was okay with not ever being an actual item, you know? Even if you and I never really formalized things and got married and all that stuff… I was fine with it as long as I could still be with you. It felt like I didn't need to ask you if you wanted to be with me that way because, as soon as I started wondering if maybe we should be more, uh, conventional? You'd have one of those strange days when you'd just keep finding chances to pin me to the nearest wall and…"
"Heh. You did the pinning half the time, now…"
"Only if you started it," Sokka chuckled. He could feel her smiling, and his heart soared for it. "I've always… always wanted to do whatever you wanted to do. If you wanted me… then I'd be yours in whatever way you wanted me to be. If I did anything to piss you off… then I'd either fix it or stay out of your way until you were ready to let me in again. All this time, I…"
"You've just done whatever you thought I'd need… and you never really have slowed down to think about what you want, have you?" Azula asked. "Because… you thought I'd reject it. And… you were scared of disappointing me? Of displeasing me?"
"I… was. Still am, actually," Sokka admitted, with a sad smile. "And that's your cue: I'm embarrassing, aren't I?"
"You are," Azula determined. Sokka sighed, accepting the sentence he had already anticipated. "But… so am I."
"Well, that's nice. We can just make fun of each other for being embarrassing all you like," Sokka smiled.
"What do you want, then?" Azula said, swallowing hard. "If… if I'm embarrassing for being an idiot who can't string two words together where… where fucking feelings are concerned, then maybe learning to do it would make me less embarrassing, right?"
"Uh, maybe…?"
"So… so if you're embarrassing for not thinking about yourself and being scared of failure, then… stop being scared and just tell me. W-what… what would you want of me? What would you have us… be?"
Sokka didn't answer immediately. It wasn't a lie that he had never pondered that concept properly… because so far, they were just Sokka and Azula. They were two people whose lives had been intertwined by many coincidences since childhood, and they had gone on to build a friendship on the strangest foundations they could have found. There was no denying their mutual attraction, no lie to be spoken about their genuine affection for each other… so perhaps it was fine for him to be selfish for once. Perhaps he could simply say what he wanted to say… perhaps Azula wanted him to do so: what if she had only been waiting for him all along? What if all her dismissing of the typical teenage romances had simply been a way to hope to appeal to him… to try to show him that what they had was much more important, much deeper than the short-lived relationships that crumbled all around them, at the time?
He swallowed hard. His hands trembled. His lips parted as he leaned over to speak in her ear:
"I… I want to live my life with you. I don't care whatever we label it… but I know I want you. Not… not everyone's as lucky as I was, okay? Getting to… to know the love of your life since you were a kid? That's a goddamn miracle, so…"
Azula's arms tightened around him: it took him a moment to register it, but tears seemed to escape her eyes, filtering through his shirt. His heart pounded hard at the unforeseen emotional reaction of the most emotionally repressed person he had ever known…
"T-that's… so embarrassing…"
She said the words with a thread of a voice, so frayed by tears Sokka couldn't help but laugh as he held her tightly. He pressed another kiss to the top of her head and she continued to cling to him, as though to never let go: had she longed to hear those words for many years? Sokka had no idea if she had. But he had finally voiced them and a weight seemed to have been lifted off his shoulders now. Azula wouldn't let herself cry easily on any given day or moment, Sokka knew, and she'd likely shut herself down at any second now… but he held her anyway until her self-awareness returned, to put an end to her most unusual emotional reaction.
They stood there in comforting silence for about five minutes: Sokka's shirt was drenched by tears, but he disregarded the humidity of the fabric as Azula finally pulled back, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"T-throw… another one," she said. Sokka raised an eyebrow.
"Say what?"
"Make another throw," she said, swallowing hard. "Last one of the night. Whatever happens next… is up to you."
Sokka blinked blankly at first, but he shrugged and made his way to pick up the ball again. It seemed Azula wasn't about to defend this time, so he stepped up comfortably to the free-throw line, and he frowned as he pondered what the right choice would be. Truth wouldn't be all that bad anymore, what did he have to lose by now, frankly? He'd told her plenty of truths so far and nothing bad had happened. Dare… it might be some embarrassing thing again, he supposed. Maybe he'd be able to improve her mood that way… but maybe she didn't want him to make his choices for that reason anymore.
Old habits died hard, though.
Sokka breathed deeply and threw the ball.
It arched smoothly on its way down… but it fell short by a few inches. Sokka glanced at Azula with a weak grin as the ball bounded on the ground, rolling towards the bench where he had left his bag.
"Well?" he said. "What's it going to be now?"
Azula's eyes seemed to glow under the campus's night lights. There was a most unusual expression upon her face… a vulnerable one that Sokka guessed meant she would try to say something difficult once more. Whatever dare she had in mind…
"Take me to… well, someplace more private than the dorms," she said, hands shaking as she spoke – it almost pained her to say things she likely found utterly ridiculous, and yet she pushed herself to say them all the same: "I dare you to… to go for it. I dare you to sleep with me."
...
Technically, everything might have begun when Sokka's family moved into the neighborhood – a four-year-old Azula and her six-year-old brother had watched keenly, through the windows as the moving trucks brought in the many boxes that belonged to the new tenants right across the street.
But for Azula and Sokka, the true beginning had taken place a few days later: Hakoda and Kya dropped off Katara and Sokka in the preschool early in the morning, and many other kids arrived later. Sokka, the troublemaker that he was, had stolen a trophy from the ball pit: a singular cerulean ball that he hoped to play with once he made a friend…
And as he glanced about the room, his eyes fell upon her.
She might have been smaller than Katara. Her hair was tidily combed into a small bun, with a fringe framing her delicate face. Sokka's jaw dropped as his attention focused entirely on her, without so much as noticing the boy beside her, who took off to find some of his friends right away, leaving his younger sister behind.
Without thinking twice, Sokka stepped forward. The girl raised her gaze in his direction. He smiled at her, and she didn't smile back.
"Hello," he said, simply. "I'm Sokka."
She didn't answer. She eyed him apprehensively.
He blinked blankly before deciding to take a more proactive approach: he showed her the cerulean ball, his grand trophy, with a proud grin.
Her eyes lit up right away. He snickered happily, and she clasped the ball, taking it from his small hands.
He only realized he wasn't holding it anymore after she smiled with abandon, gazing at the plastic ball as though it were her trophy now, instead…
"It's mine…" Sokka said, reaching out to grab it… but the little girl's smile turned into a scowl, and she refused to hand it over. "It's mine!"
She let out a threatening, angry groan that made Sokka pout: it was his ball! He had taken it from the pit himself, he had wanted to play with her…!
And in attempting to convey that to the girl, quite unsuccessfully, he found himself at the receiving end of a stern scolding by the preschool teacher, who had already told him not to take the balls out from the ball pit… though he wasn't the only one she told off. Azula, too, had been scolded, and she cried bitterly while shooting resentful glares at him. He, of course, returned the favor: he had wanted to be her friend! She was the one who had messed everything up by not sharing that simple, dumb plastic ball, not him…
And so, Azula hated him. And he hated her right back. But as they were children, grudges were complicated and simple in numerous ways: they would have good days at times, and then they would have terrible ones. The teacher's efforts to make them get along would go to waste more often than not, but sometimes, with no effort, she'd find them sitting together, doing their schoolwork perfectly calmly. Nobody could really understand whatever strange dynamic those two had developed, but it seemed to be a strange hostility, a respectful rivalry… at least, on the most part. And that was how everything had been through preschool until finally the two started primary school…
But the greatest change in their relationship happened outside of the school's premises: Sokka had been returning home after school when he heard the sound of a heavy, bouncing basketball across the street. It wasn't too surprising to hear that – he had overheard his mother raving to his father that one of their neighbors was actually a basketball star player, and Sokka had occasionally seen the older members of that family shooting hoops and even playing together by their garage entrance, where their basketball board hung…
But he had never seen the tiniest member of the family, Azula herself, throwing what likely was a very heavy ball for a child her size, all be it in the hopes of scoring at least once.
He approached the house's fence, supporting himself on it and watching as his very stubborn neighbor threw the ball with near frustration: it bounced back at her every time, but it never reached the right height.
"Why don't you stand closer?" he asked, simply: she jumped, glaring at him instinctively as she held the ball to her chest. Sokka huffed. "What? Think I'm going to take it? That's what you did, not me…"
"Shut up," Azula retorted, stubbornly. "You don't know how to play…"
"How do you know I don't know?" Sokka said. "I'm the best in PE in my class!"
"You're not," Azula said, simply, with no more arguments than that. Sokka stuck his tongue out at her.
"At least I'm better than your brother," he said… and to his surprise, she smiled.
"Zuko is a loser," she said, proudly. Sokka couldn't hold back a smile of his own upon hearing her certainty as she said that.
"And you're better than him?" Sokka asked. Azula nodded proudly. "Can you score? Have you done it before?"
Her pause suggested her answer would be a lie. She nodded, instead of speaking, and then turned towards the hoop once more, tossing the ball: yet again, it failed to reach its goal.
"Stand closer," Sokka said. This time, she shot him an awkward glance. "You'll do better if you stand closer."
To his surprise, she listened. The ball rose higher now, and it almost fell on her head once it returned to the ground, but she caught it anyway.
"Is the ball too heavy?" he asked. Azula shook her head. "You sure?"
"It's… fine!" Azula said, tossing it as powerfully as she could: this time she gasped when it went over the ring, bouncing on the board and returning to the ground without going through the hoop.
"Hey! You almost got it!" Sokka exclaimed, infected by her enthusiasm.
She tossed again, and again, and again…
After about twenty-five tries, the ball finally slipped through the net safely.
"You did it!" Sokka cheered, beaming as Azula smiled brightly at him. "You scored! That's so cool, Azula!"
"I… well, yes," she shrugged, picking up the ball…
She tossed it his way, even if the fence stood between them. Sokka gasped as Azula shrugged in his direction, once the ball slowed down right at the closed door of the fence.
"You want to try?" she asked.
Until that moment, he had assumed she'd never let him take anything that she believed was hers. He blinked blankly before smiling and nodding at her offer, and Azula unlocked the fence's door so he could come in to play, too.
They threw the ball for hours, one throw each, even if either of them was likely to try to sneak in one more throw on occasion. Sokka, as it turned out, had even less experience at playing basketball than Azula did… so they simply took to learning how to throw the ball at the backboard together, cheering whenever they scored, pouting whenever they failed…
A shiny, glossy black car suddenly slowed down outside the house, and Sokka winced as he immediately felt the need to run away: Azula's parents had come home already? Was it that late…?
Azula clutched the ball nervously before taking to pushing Sokka out of the car's path, into the front lawn of the house: her mother climbed off the passenger's seat, smiling in their direction before unlocking the garage's fence. Within moments, Azula's father had driven into the parking space safely, and her mother locked the small door again before turning to regard her daughter with a raised eyebrow.
"Training again, I see?" she said. Azula stiffened but nodded. "And?"
"I scored today! I did, Mom!" Azula exclaimed, running up to Ursa with the ball in her hands. "He saw it, you can ask him…!"
"Oh?" Ursa raised her eyebrows, glancing at Sokka next. He winced, immediately bashful, unsure that he would be allowed to be here at all even if he had meant no harm… "You're our neighbor from across the street, aren't you?"
"U-uh, I am. I'm just…" Sokka mumbled, shyly… and then Ursa smiled warmly at them both.
"It's good to meet you directly this way, then. I'm glad Azula made a new friend."
It was a completely confusing concept at first: friends? Were they actually friends? Their relationship so far had been conflict upon conflict… but Azula's mother believed they were friends. So perhaps… perhaps that was what they were.
"Is everything alright?" Azula's father spoke: he had only just climbed off the car, clad in a tidy suit that Sokka gawked at with astonishment. Ursa chuckled, glancing at her husband with a reassuring smile.
"Quite so. It seems Azula has finally scored, dear… both in basketball and in friendship, from the sound of it."
"Hmm," Ozai's eyes fell upon the little boy standing near his daughter. He raised an eyebrow before letting out a deep sigh. "You won't go overboard training them, will you?"
"What, me? Oh, come now, how could I ever…?" Ursa said, with a guilty smile that brought a genuine one from her husband. He shook his head, marching towards the front door… though he ensured to caress Azula's hair gently as he passed beside her.
"Good job, Azula," he said. Her eyes lit up brightly, cheeks flushed with delight as her father went indoors… and as her mother breathed out slowly, gazing at the two children once more.
"I have a good feeling about you two. So… if you don't mind, can you show me how you scored again?"
Azula nodded promptly: she didn't waste time showing her mother her very unprofessional posture and throwing technique, and Ursa laughed fondly as she knelt by her daughter's side, helping correct her hands and legs' positioning, and even giving her a few hints as to what to aim for in order to score. Sokka took mental notes of her advice too, thrilled to throw the ball whenever it fell in his hands, and ready to rejoice if Azula happened to score again…
Being coached by a professional female athlete certainly paid off: where Sokka had been boasting emptily about being at the top of his class in PE before, a few weeks of frequent training sessions with Ursa and Azula had seen him outdoing his classmates quickly, even Zuko, whose few attempts at joining their training sessions had resulted in him storming out in frustration over his sister and Sokka's joint efforts to annoy him. Hence, Sokka wound up befriending Zuko's sister sooner than Zuko, and the bond between them tightened constantly as they grew older and taller, becoming much more capable players and even inspiring several of their newer friends to join their school's basketball team with them.
They spent most afternoons together if they could get away with it, whether training in school or at Azula's house, and while the foundations of their relationship had been a most awkward incident in preschool, by the time Sokka was in third year of middle school, he and Azula were, without a doubt, best friends.
Ty Lee's thirteenth birthday party put that notion to the test in an unforeseen way, though.
"Seven minutes in heaven?" Katara repeated, perplexed by the girl's suggestion. "Isn't that…?"
"A game not suitable for eleven-year-olds!" Ty Lee squealed: Toph left perfectly willingly, making faces of disgust upon knowing what Katara wanted them to do, while Aang whimpered about wanting to stay… but the birthday girl had her own plans in mind.
It was safe to say that the only one genuinely thrilled by the concept of the game was her: half the boys appeared terrified, especially Zuko, while the girls were apprehensive. Ty Lee snickered as she readied herself to draw a boy's name and a girl's name for her mischievous purposes... but she ensured to draw the boy's name, first:
"And our first boy is… Sokka!" she exclaimed: he winced, cheeks flushing at being the very first one to be chosen.
"I don't know if… uh…" Sokka grimaced, eyes flickering from side to side: he glanced at Azula in sheer panic, an unpleasant tug in his chest making him want to tell her he wasn't interested in this nonsense at all, he didn't want to do it, of course not…!
But his bashful, awkward reactions amounted to nothing: Ty Lee tasked the other boys in the group – Zuko, Haru, Jet and Chan – with taking Sokka to another room in Ty Lee's family house, where he would have to wait for his partner to show up. Azula watched him go, a grimaced over her face as she dreaded whatever name Ty Lee would draw next…
"Of course, Katara's not part of this draw, no, sir…" she said, happily. Azula huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she overheard to Sokka's protests, still dragged away by the others.
"Are you sure about this?" Mai asked, crooking an eyebrow. Ty Lee snickered.
"Of course I am!" Ty Lee exclaimed. "It's an ironclad, perfect plan."
"You don't do plans," Azula said, frowning and glancing in her direction. "Every single time I draw up a strategy for the team, you…"
"That's different! This is way more important than a game!" Ty Lee grinned: Azula's eyebrow twitched as she glared at her friend, who turned towards the bowl full of scrambled names once more. "And now… the girl who'll go with Sokka!"
"He's safely tucked away by now, so we're ready to proceed," Chan grinned with unabashed wickedness, as he and the others returned to the room.
"Are we sure about this…?" Haru asked, softly. Ty Lee giggled and nodded promptly.
"This will be perfect! You'll see!" she said. "We can even go wilder and not split boys and girls for the next round…!"
"Wait, really?" Suki asked, eyes wide. Mai huffed.
"Doesn't matter if I get a guy or a girl, I'm not doing any of the crap you want us to," Mai declared, sternly. Ty Lee stuck her tongue out in her direction, but she stuck her hand in the bowl…
And yet Azula paid more attention to the draw this time… noticing that she hadn't simply picked a paper at random. No, she had felt for something, she had taken too long to draw the paper, she… she had marked it, somehow. She was cheating! Whatever she was doing, the draw was illicit and Azula opened her mouth to say as much…
"It's Azula!"
She froze on the spot.
Her intent to reveal Ty Lee's treachery vanished as her friend grinned at her with encouraging glee. Zuko made faces of disgust while Haru seemed relieved – perhaps he assumed Azula wasn't the type to take advantage of the situation, and she wouldn't cause much trouble to the junior high's basketball boys' team captain…
"Come on, then! You know the rules! It's seven minutes of privacy, just for the two of you…!" Ty Lee squealed, setting down the bowl with the rest of the papers as she jumped up and down giddily. "It's exactly what you need!"
"We… what? Why would we need…?! Ty Lee!" Azula huffed as her friend clasped her wrist, dragging her down the corridor of her house: they weren't joined by the other party-goers, providing Ty Lee with a moment to smile knowingly at Azula.
"Come on, you two have had crushes on each other forever! Don't play dumb," she said. Azula scoffed.
"Playing dumb? I… I have no idea what you're talking about," she said: the redness of her cheeks didn't convince Ty Lee of the truthfulness of Azula's claims.
"You're so silly," Ty Lee giggled, stopping at the room Sokka was waiting in. "I'll be back in seven minutes, okay? And if you two haven't done anything…! Then it'll be another seven! You heard me!"
"Are you serious here?" Azula grimaced, as Ty Lee snickered and pulled the door open.
"Dear Sokka…!" she called him: the sound of her voice caused him to wince, and her devious poking of her head through the ajar door caused Sokka to shake his head violently, standing nervously in the small study as he was.
"No, no, no! You're not going to be my first kiss, Ty Lee, so don't you dare…!"
"Aw, your first? Saving it for someone special, are you?" she smirked deviously. "Well… here's your chance!"
She shoved Azula inside the room and closed the door promptly behind her.
Sokka's protests died down immediately at that.
Their eyes met, even in the dimly lit room. They knew they weren't supposed to be there, it was Ty Lee's father's study, and if they so much as tripped over any of his architect's equipment, he would likely kick all of them, Ty Lee included, out of his house for good. But there they were… and there they would stay for another seven minutes, it seemed.
"I… I'm afraid you're, uh, in an awkward situation," Azula said, with a frigid smile. "Ty Lee schemed to do this. I don't know what she got into her head about you and me, but…"
"Uh… w-well, whatever it was, I'm glad it's you," Sokka said, with a gentle grin of his own. "I was kind of worried, really. I mean, the way she talks sounds like she has a crush on just about every guy she meets, and I really hoped not to be one of them… freaked me out for a second that I might be."
"Doesn't seem like it, so… congratulations," Azula said, with a shrug. "Anyway…"
"Anyway?" Sokka raised his eyebrows, meeting her gaze with his own.
"I… guess I just have to warn you that she said she'll keep us locked in here until we do… 'something'," Azula said, rolling her eyes and running a hand over her hair – she had styled it today for some reason. It was Ty Lee's birthday, yes, of course she had to dress appropriately for it… but she had done so more self-consciously than usual. She had genuinely hoped to look good, and not just for the sake of projecting the right image…
Who was she even trying to impress? They were all friends from school, members of the boys and girls' basketball teams. She and Sokka were the captains of each team, the better players in their middle school… they saw each other constantly, trained together, played games against each other and even studied tactics together. If she wanted to impress him, she should have done it by showing him a basketball move he hadn't ever seen before… not simply dressing up, doing her hair, wearing a light perfume, filing and even painting her dumb nails…
Why the hell had she done any of that? Why the hell was she standing right here, in front of him, feeling her heart racing as she told herself that nothing could possibly happen, that nothing would, because he was her friend. He was her best friend. He was her oldest friend. There was simply no way Ty Lee's ridiculous meddling would change any of that…
"So… huh. You mean, if we decide not to do this…" Sokka said, frowning.
"We can always pretend we did so she leaves us alone," Azula said, with a shrug. "How would they know anyway? I can… I can take off some of my lipstick, rub it over your mouth with my hand, how about that?"
"She might notice you're hiding the smear on your hand if you do that," Sokka pointed out. Azula grimaced – idiot that she was, why had she put on noticeable makeup? To think such a foolish choice would bite her in the ass this way…
"Well, then… what do we do?" Azula said, eyeing him warily. "You don't think we should go for it, do you?"
"I… well. I'm not… going to say no if you don't say no, I guess?" Sokka said: his cheeks reddened and Azula frowned at him. "I mean! Well, it is my first kiss, and I suppose it's yours…"
"Of course it is," Azula huffed.
"Well… uh, well, maybe I shouldn't have said anything, then. Guess you're saving it for a big, special moment?" Sokka said, scratching the back of his neck. Azula rolled her eyes. "Or maybe not."
"You know I think that stuff is just… dumb. Okay? It's dumb," Azula said, shaking her head. "People will kiss whoever the hell they want, and some might kiss the same person forever while others kiss every idiot who's willing, so… it's all stupid in the end. I mean… what's even the point of kissing, really? It has to be so… so annoying. So uncomfortable. Like… having your face so close to someone else's? Who wouldn't be grossed out by that?"
"Grossed out… heh, well, I guess. But, well, for the record?" Sokka said, with a weak grin. "I wouldn't be grossed out by your face. Not saying we have to do this! Just… just clarifying one thing I figured was important, nothing more…"
"W-well… I mean, I'm not saying you're gross, just… ugh, this is so stupid," Azula said, shaking her head: her pride was flaring in just about every direction, and her heart was racing because maybe, just maybe, she would kiss him today… and why would that thought make butterflies flutter in her stomach?
"Yeah, well, it is," Sokka said, with a sad smile. "It's fine if you don't want to do it, though. We can just sit here, quietly, and…"
"And wait for Ty Lee's dad to show up?" Azula asked, eyeing Sokka skeptically. He winced.
"Maybe we should escape through the window…" he suggested. Azula snorted.
"You'd really risk a three-story jump to avoid…?"
"To avoid Ty Lee pressuring you into doing something you don't want to do? Well… sure? Don't want me to?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula grimaced.
"I'm not saying I… I mean, wait. Something I don't want to do? Just me? What the hell does that mean?"
"I mean…!" Sokka's cheeks flushed as he lowered his head. "Well, you know, Ty Lee's been threatening us all with this party the whole week, right? She… she said everyone was going to get kissed one way or another, beats me how she's going to go about making that happen, but… if she does think of any weirder games later, who knows who she's going to try to pair me with? So… you know, not the best-case scenario, but if I'm going to kiss someone for the first time today, I'd rather it's you. I-if you… if you would want that too, of course. Or if you think you could want that? Or… if you'd rather it was me instead of any of those guys, I don't know…"
Azula's chest tightened: he'd rather it was her? It didn't have to mean anything, maybe he just didn't like the other girls much. But there was certainly a possibility that he liked her, particularly, to some degree…
"That's embarrassing," Azula said, averting her gaze from him. Sokka sighed, hanging his head.
"I know, I know, I…"
He raised his eyes to find her cheeks were lit up with a rather unusual blush.
"Azula…?" he blinked a couple of times and she sighed heavily.
"Like I said, people just do this as if it's no big deal, right? Adults do it, and we'll be adults eventually. So… it should be no big deal for us, too. Half the girls in class do nothing but boast about their relationships…" Azula said, rolling her eyes.
"And you've always been so focused on schoolwork and the team that you don't really care for this stuff, right?" Sokka said, with a shy smile. Azula sighed and shrugged.
"I don't see the fuss. And I doubt I will if we do this, anyway, but… you're probably right. If we're going to do this, it's better if it's you."
Her tone, her nonchalance, suggested this didn't mean anything to her. And yet her cheeks were still red, and she kept averting her gaze. Sokka narrowed his eyes as though to scrutinize deeper into her motives, into her words…
"Azula…"
A knock on the door startled them. Azula glanced back at it in sheer panic until a sing-song voice drifted in.
"It's been five minutes…! And it's going to be seven more if I open this door and you two haven't done anything!"
Her devious giggle caused Azula to roll her eyes: yes, these games were utterly idiotic, she grew more convinced of it by the minute. People who wanted relationships should simply get into them and those who didn't shouldn't, and the ones who wanted to kiss others could just kiss whoever wanted to kiss them too… she didn't care about any of that, of course she didn't, and Ty Lee had no right to pressure them this way, but curses…
A stupid, curious part of her wanted to try it, nonetheless.
Sokka breathed deeply as he stepped closer to her – he was half a head taller than her these days. He had always been slightly taller than Azula, but puberty seemed to be doing wonders for his basketball build. He might even become tall enough to dunk the ball one day, Azula thought… maybe he'd grow tall enough to catch the eye of some other tall girl who would appeal to him, too. A strange burst of pride inside her compelled her to believe that stealing Sokka's first kiss would mean that, even if that did happen, this potential girl wouldn't get his everything… a stupid, petty thought, yet one that ensured she stood firmly on her spot, meeting Sokka's eyes.
"She'll come back, so…" he said. Azula gritted her teeth but nodded. "You're really sure this is okay?"
"I have no idea, just… get it over with," Azula said, bashfully. Sokka smiled a little.
"Then… close your eyes."
She did as he asked, trying not to tremble as she felt him moving closer: she felt his breath first, his warm presence moving in, his hands upon her shoulders, and she wanted to turn back and flee…
Then his lips touched hers.
Whatever she had feared before suddenly bloomed into an entirely different feeling. Where he had somehow appeared to overwhelm her with his proximity a moment ago, suddenly it felt as though he belonged exactly where he was, his lips against hers in that tentative, shy manner that she reciprocated softly…
He pulled back, and they opened their eyes.
"T-there. We kissed," Sokka said, his face crimson. Azula swallowed hard and nodded.
"Right. We… we did," she said, lowering her gaze.
It had been a long time since any conversation between them had been so awkward and clumsy… and Azula resolved to change that, raising her head again to look at him: a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he froze on the spot when he had her attention again.
"Don't think the seven minutes are up," she said. Sokka smiled and shrugged.
"Guess not. Otherwise she would've…"
He fell silent when her hand clasped his neck, reeling him closer: now it was Azula who led the charge into their second kiss.
They exchanged no words before the third: it was more than just a brush between their lips this time, a much more active kiss even if still a chaste one. Sokka's hands slid down to Azula's hips, her own arms locked around his neck, and with eyes closed, they gave themselves to a strange, heightened, extended moment of giving in to a simple pleasure of life, something they were certainly glad to be experiencing with each other…
A knock on the door again: Sokka winced, but Azula didn't loosen her hold on him.
"Either you get to it or you get to it, you two, there's no…!" Ty Lee exclaimed, yanking the door open once the seven minutes were up…
She fell silent, abruptly, upon finding the two team captains locked in a surprisingly affectionate embrace. Even from this angle, where Azula's head covered the actual action going on between them, it was clear that they were kissing.
That Ty Lee screamed happily gave away quickly that something was going on in the study. Azula's eager kisses slowed then, and she sighed before rolling her eyes at Ty Lee's reaction. Sokka smiled weakly, finding Azula's cheeks were as red as his felt, too.
"Guess she can't complain, can she?" Sokka said. Azula scoffed.
"Not like it's her business anyway," she said. "We should get out of here, though."
"Uh… right," Sokka gritted his teeth, and Azula clasped his hand.
She didn't guide him back to Ty Lee's bedroom, where the wild birthday girl screamed about what she'd witnessed. She didn't lead him to the living room, where Toph and Aang were playing videogames together, left out of Ty Lee's most thrilling birthday activities but having plenty of fun in their own way.
Instead, Azula led Sokka to the top of the stairs in Ty Lee's grand house, a location distant enough where, with any luck, they wouldn't be bothered. Sokka didn't protest as she urged him to take his seat at the topmost step, and he certainly had no complaints when she found his lips with hers once more.
It never made a lot of sense, as far as Sokka could tell, that someone as blunt in her dismissiveness of relationships would be quite so keen on kissing him ever since that day. It wasn't like it happened every time they met, but it would happen often enough that he'd find himself wondering if it meant they were a couple: he didn't dare bring up the subject, though, unwilling to displease her, unwilling to sound like all the classmates she found so annoying. If he dared say anything corny, she'd be certain to tell him he was embarrassing, maybe even gross, if it was far mushier than she anticipated… but somehow, he always seemed to understand that she didn't quite hate the things he said. Even so, his willingness to test the waters with any serious conversations diminished out of fear of genuinely causing her to think he was a lost cause… she'd said it all along, hadn't she? People kissed because they felt like it. There was no real reason for it to mean more than that…
No real reason why they'd sometimes cuddle while watching TV together, whenever they visited the other's house.
No real reason why they'd wind up making out in the school gym's storage room after putting away their basketball gear for the day.
No real reason why he'd ask her to go with him to prom in high school.
No real reason why she'd ensure to be accepted in the same university he had been scouted by.
They were friends. Closer than friends. They certainly liked each other a fair amount. Perhaps more than friends generally did… but that was it. There were boundaries they had not breached, could not breach, for pride ensured they wouldn't do so…
And yet now, almost ten years after that first kiss, sixteen years since their chaotic first conflict over that singular cerulean ball, they found themselves standing together in a small, cozy hotel room, gazing at each other with undisguised anticipation.
"Well. Step one complete, I guess," Sokka said, swallowing hard. "I… don't really know what we should do next, heh. We should be, uh, getting in the mood?"
"Right. Definitely looks like we're on the right track for that," Azula replied, bitingly. Sokka chuckled, a hand rising to cover his eyes.
"Look, it's not like I can't get in the mood, I definitely can… but I need you to understand this is surreal to me," Sokka said, breathing deeply.
"Losing your virginity is surreal?" Azula asked, amused. Sokka nodded promptly. "Come on…"
"Right, people do this all the time, don't they?" Sokka said, echoing her words from the past, if in different regards. Azula scowled in his direction. "It's what you said when we…"
"I know, Sokka."
"And then we ended up kissing all the time, so…"
"You're not about to say we'll… fuck all the time after this, are you?" Azula huffed, eyeing him skeptically. Sokka shrugged.
"I mean… think about it. This would be our first. We have no idea what we're doing, so… it's like being flung into a basketball game without knowing a single rule," he said. "After a couple of minutes of confusion, you might just start to understand how this goes… but then the coach switches you out because you're making a mess of things and you end up benched the rest of the game, heh."
"That sounds promising," Azula said, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
"Well, if you let the benched player try again after they get a feel for what they're doing… maybe they'll surprise you?" Sokka said, with a weak grin. "Besides, it's not like we had a clue of what we were doing when we first kissed, we literally figured it out by doing it like… well, a million times, so…"
"A valid argument, I suppose. If… if we're not entirely useless at sex, it's not a terrible idea to do it more than once…" Azula said, lowering her gaze. Sokka breathed deeply and nodded.
"But before we get to it… well, maybe we should talk some more."
"Heh. Now I'm the one who ought to have some crisis over you breaking up with me."
"You don't seriously think I'd ever break up with you, do you?" Sokka smiled fondly at her. "In your words: it's not like…"
"There's anything to break," Azula finished, eyeing him skeptically. He grinned carelessly in her direction. "Ugh, whatever. I… thought we were done talking. You know I'm better at the non-talking stage of things, so get it over with quickly, okay?"
"Well, we'll see if that works out," Sokka said, breathing deeply as he approached the bed.
He sat at the foot of it, taking off his shoes and tossing them aside. For a wild moment, Azula wondered if he wouldn't stop at that, but he did. Her heart raced stupidly – she had seen him in a swimsuit before, it wasn't going to be all that different from seeing him naked, curses...
She joined him by the foot of the bed, doing what he'd done just the same. Then, they sat side by side, in silence.
"Do you… want to play another game with me?" Sokka asked. Azula sighed.
"What kind of game?" she asked, simply.
"A much less amusing one. Might not be a game at all, come to think of it," Sokka admitted, running his hand over his hair.
Azula eyed him with uncertainty, her hands gripping the bedding with more force than necessary: why the hell was she so nervous? Her heart raced so wildly she might grow level-headed from that alone. Was it her own fault for delaying this as much as she had? For never figuring out how to have a reasonable relationship with him? It might be…
"How much do you know about, uh… BDSM?"
His words caused her eyes to widen: she shot him a disbelieving glare, jaw dropping as his face flushed immediately.
"I don't mean we'll do that! J-just…!" Sokka squealed.
"You'd be the masochist if we did. As proven by you asking that question," Azula huffed. Sokka slapped his face with a hand, a couple of chuckles spilling from his lips.
"Sorry. I know that was hard to believe but… listen, I've got as little experience with that as you do, which means none, but I heard that they have something called… a safe word?"
Azula frowned.
"I… do know about that," she said, glancing at him warily. Sokka breathed deeply.
"I'm not thinking about using it for the sake of whatever we'll do in bed… but for other purposes, instead," he said, swallowing hard. "I've gotten used to it, but… I'm starting to think that your embarrassment over all touchy-feely things may be hindering you in ways you never really processed before."
"You're psychoanalyzing me again, are you?" Azula asked, crooking an eyebrow. "Taking that class definitely wasn't a good idea…"
"It was good in the sense that it might help you," Sokka said, letting out a deep breath. "Look… I could tell you right now that I want to date you. That I want to be your boyfriend. That I want to be your husband one day. But I don't because…"
"Because… you think I'd say it's embarrassing?" Azula asked, raising an eyebrow: her face heated up merely upon hearing him say those words… and the implication of his hesitation floored her.
"Whenever I do something dumb, whenever I do something more sentimental than you're used to, whenever I praise you in any way that feels too mushy?" Sokka said. "You say it's embarrassing and I don't mind it at all, because heh, maybe I'm embarrassing after all. But… when it comes to serious things, it freaks me out that you might say that. I… I couldn't even fathom doing anything that might actually disgust you with me. And it turns out that, for all I thought I understood you, maybe I didn't understand you as well as I thought I did…"
"You… didn't ask me those things because you thought I'd say you were embarrassing," Azula said. "Then… shit. Have I been, well, hurting you every single time I…?"
"No, that's not what I mean…" Sokka said, with a sad smile, but Azula shook her head.
"I just… ugh. I don't know how to do this, okay?" she said, burying her face in her hands. "I suck at talking about this stuff, you've always known I do, and I'm an idiot for that. But I… I didn't want to hurt you, okay? So if I did… I…"
"Azula…"
"I'm sorry."
She seldom said those words. She certainly didn't say them with that much emotion whenever it happened, either.
Sokka wrapped his arms around her body, reeling her in for a gentle hug: she shook her head, yet again flustered, he knew, over her outburst…
"I'm… such an idiot, I… why the hell am I crying…?"
"You're not an idiot for crying, and see? This is exactly what we need the safe word for."
"S-so I can cry? That's stupid…"
"So I can say things without you immediately calling them stupid… so that you can say things without me making stupid jokes that make you self-aware, afterwards."
This time, his words gave her pause. Azula raised her head, glancing at him in confusion even through her misty eyes. Sokka offered her a sad grin, caressing her face gently.
"It's just an idea. If you don't like it, that's okay… but the point is for it to mean we get to have a safe space, a safe moment. Neither of us judges the other for anything in that moment, okay? We're free to say anything we need to say. Neither one will make light of the situation in any way… neither one will dismiss it as stupid or embarrassing. We can go right back to our usual state afterwards… but while the safe word is in effect, it means we get to say what needs to be said safely. How does that sound?"
"I…" Azula blinked blankly at his proposal, lowering her gaze slowly.
Judging… joking. Those were, truly, their typical responses to everything. Defense mechanisms… Sokka had rambled about those after he took that psychology class, and he spent about a week pinpointing all her defense mechanisms, to which she had only grown even more defensive and she punished him by refusing to kiss him again until he stopped – hence, he stopped. He had made matters into a joke… and she had made it sound stupid when it was anything but.
It should have been frustrating to realize that Sokka had seen through their emotional turmoil and the source of the flaws in their communication so effectively… a part of her, that gnawing, unnerving pride, urged her to be frustrated indeed.
But she wasn't.
It was as though something had clicked inside her heart… as though a possibility she had never thought existed had presented itself right now. She met his eyes again, finding him no less genuine and serious than he had been a moment ago.
"We… we'd choose a safe word? And then use that for… for whenever we want to take things completely seriously?" Azula asked. Sokka nodded slowly. "Doesn't just have to be about… well, what I dared you to do tonight, but about everything?"
"Yep. Anything goes," Sokka said. "If you want to confess that you hate the way I bake pancakes, well… you'd use the safe word and I'd have to listen and accept what you said, no jokes involved, no whining. Okay?"
"Huh… fine. Though you hardly bake the pancakes, you buy the premade mix anyway…" Azula mumbled. Sokka smiled and shook his head.
"No laughing is allowed, either. We're going to show each other so much self-control you'll be shocked it's even possible," Sokka said, caressing her hair. "See… Ty Lee used to ramble about something silly, didn't she? The… love languages, was it?"
"I never paid any attention when she talked about that," Azula confessed. Sokka bit his lip.
"Well, I paid a tiny bit of attention, but I think there's one that…" he said. "Uh… what the hell was it they called it? I mean, it's communication, in short, but still…"
He surprised Azula by pulling up his smartphone, a disgruntled frown on his face as he googled the concept in a rush. Azula smiled, watching his quick scrolling until he finally came across what he had been searching for:
"Aha! There! It was 'words of affirmation', see?" Sokka declared, smiling proudly as he showed the article to Azula. She raised a judgmental eyebrow… and then grimaced at her own instinctive need to judge just about anything that happened around her. She breathed deeply, trying to repress that urge as Sokka spoke. "Basically, it's just… verbal communication of your affection towards someone? Not something hard to grasp as a concept, but not something anyone can do easily. Me? I'm always worried I'll say something that will make you decide I was a waste of your time and that you don't want anything else to do with me…"
"Is that why you were so sure I was going to dump you?" Azula asked.
"Eh… honestly, I've constantly worried about not being good enough for you," Sokka admitted, with a sad smile. "Maybe I was wrong to, but I couldn't really help myself. So… I've basically held back from saying everything I think because every time I assume you might respond poorly to it, I shut my mouth. Whereas you…"
"I find everything embarrassing and I judge everything," Azula recited: even her voice was charged with skepticism she still barely knew how to shake off. "So… when I try to show even a slight amount of emotional investment in something, I… I cringe at myself, frankly. And it's…"
"Don't…"
"It's stupid."
"There's no need to say that, Azula, really," Sokka huffed. Azula sighed. "That's part of the problem, okay? Don't immediately assume everything you do is stupid, because then it's going to be a snowballing problem and we'll never sort it out…"
"Fine, then. I'll try not to, but it's not easy to stop doing it," Azula grimaced. "Anyway… you think we need to communicate and do all the fancy love languages or whatever you called them?"
"Well, I don't think we're messing up much with the others," Sokka said, glancing at Azula with uncertainty. "But see, this one's definitely giving us trouble. I don't think it's wrong for me to assume and state that we care about each other, right? So… it's in our benefit to be more honest about things. About how we feel, about what we want… and what you did today? It's a big step in the right direction, alright? So don't say it's stupid or judge yourself for it… it's actual progress, and what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, I suppose…" Azula said. Sokka glanced at her.
"That sounds like there's something."
"Ugh, I don't… I don't even know," Azula said, dropping her face in her hand again. Sokka smiled sadly, shaking his head.
"Boomerang."
She frowned, glancing at him again. He grinned and shrugged in her direction.
"Our safe word. Not something we'd use in common conversation, right? If you don't like it, it can be something else. But if you think it's okay…"
"I… don't know," Azula admitted, eyeing Sokka with uncertainty. He clasped her hand gently.
"Then, once you do know… I'll say the word and you'll tell me whatever you're thinking. I won't judge, I won't laugh, I won't try to make you laugh. We'll be so serious it's going to be unnerving. So…"
Azula breathed out slowly: her hand clasped his, fingers slipping through his own. Her uncertainty lasted for a moment… and then she spoke the word:
"Boomerang."
Sokka nodded. He angled his body towards hers, and Azula kept her eyes focused on his chest: her lips parted, and her racing heart seemed to be about to break out of her ribcage…
"I… I hope it works. The safe word thing," she said. Sokka nodded.
"Me too."
It was a simple confession… but it was a good start.
Azula released a breath, leaning closer to Sokka by instinct. He did the same, so her brow would rest against his.
"I… don't know why I'm like this. I wish I weren't," she admitted, surprising him… but he kept his silence, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "It's like… we could've had it all if I weren't such an idiot."
"You're not an idiot," Sokka said, softly. Azula gritted her teeth and sighed.
"It's hard to believe you… but I'll try," she said, trembling lightly.
They settled into silence briefly, still sitting together by the foot of the bed. Nothing seemed to happen… no harm came to either of them for what they'd said. No one had laughed, no one had judged… nothing had happened. It was a strange realization, perhaps akin to what children felt when they finally understood there were no monsters hiding under their bed… Azula shuddered at the thought.
"This is… weird. Nice, but weird," she said. Sokka nodded. "I… don't like being vulnerable. I'm not used to it. Guess maybe… that's the crux of the matter."
"It could be," Sokka agreed.
"What about you?" Azula asked. "How… how do you feel?"
"I'm scared," Sokka admitted. Azula winced lightly upon hearing those words. "Worried that… that this idea might not work and that I'll have to try to figure out some other way to communicate when we need to. But I'm… I'm worried I might fail at coming up with something else, too."
"This isn't failing so far," Azula said. Sokka smiled a little.
"I'm glad," he said. "But I'm still nervous."
"Me too."
They didn't meet each other's eyes as they spoke, their words spoken in intimate whispers conveyed so closely, as though they feared someone might overhear even if they were alone, isolated from the rest of the world right where they sat. Still… it was the most open they had ever felt. The most earnest they had ever been.
"I'm not sure how to get us started with…" Sokka said, swallowing hard. "With what you dared me to do. I really think I'm going to do or say something that won't sit well with you…"
"Like… what?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.
"Maybe… touching something I've never touched before and that you've never said I'm allowed to touch?" he said. "Or saying something too sentimental and…"
"Do you really feel… overly sentimental things about me?" Azula asked. "Maybe… you're as embarrassed about that as I am."
"Am I?" Sokka blinked blankly. "Huh… maybe? I mean, technically… you've been part of my life for so long that I can't help but be too sentimental, honestly. You were my first friend… my first rival, too, considering you stole that ball and…"
"And we were sworn enemies in preschool because of that," Azula smiled. Sokka smiled back.
"Then you were my first kiss… and without my full realization of it at the time, you were my first crush, for sure," he said, softly. Azula shivered. "And now… my first time will be with you, too. But I guess… the sentimental thing I wanted to say is that, even if you hadn't been my first in all those things, you… you'd be the one that mattered. The one that changed my world. The one I'd never want to let go. And… I just went and said it anyway, see? So… guess I'm about to find out if I'd displease you with my sentimentality, heh."
He dared glance at her… to find her eyes swarmed with tears anew. He felt an impulsive urge to comfort her, to take back any words that could have led her to cry… but he couldn't do it. Not right now. Not when that exteriorization of emotion, too, was one to be cherished and respected for everything it was.
He waited as she composed herself. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, shaking her head, whether at his words or at her own emotional reaction, Sokka didn't know…
"I-is it… cheap to just say that I… I feel that way too?" she said, her voice charged with tears. "I…"
"It's not. You can say whatever you want to say right now," Sokka whispered, raising his head to press a kiss to her brow.
"I…" she said, shivering. "I…"
Whatever she wanted to say now, it seemed she couldn't formulate it yet. Tears threatened to spill again, and she seemed moments away from losing her patience at her own crying…
"Ugh, I…! I hate it when people cry!" Azula exclaimed. "It makes me uncomfortable… probably because I can't handle my own feelings, damn it. Because I don't know how to manage them, h-how to not react explosively to things…! It's so much easier to just… shut the door and pretend nothing affects me. Because when it does, I… I become like this. I don't know how to… how to still be me if I'm crying like an idiot, and I hate it when other people cry…"
"You're not an idiot… no one is for crying," Sokka whispered. "Frankly, nobody with sense likes crying, I'd say. It usually means something isn't right… something needs to be fixed. And it hurts, and it scares you, and it feels wrong in all the worst ways. So… it's fine to hate crying. It doesn't mean you can reject it forever, though… we all need to do it sometimes."
"And the more I refuse to cry, t-the more it will threaten to consume me when I do?" Azula said, breathing out slowly. "I mean, I suppose that's what people say about… about bottling up rage, too? So…"
"It's true for every emotion, I'd assume," Sokka said, rubbing her hands gently again.
"So I should just… stop holding it in? Even if I hate it?" Azula said, sniffing softly. Sokka shrugged.
"You're the one who'll make that choice."
"Do you do it? Crying…?" she asked. Sokka smiled.
"Not as often as I should, either," he said. "We're both a little stubborn about that, sounds like."
"Well… I suppose you understand, then," Azula said, brushing the underside of her nose with a hand before letting out a soft laugh. "Fuck. What a mood for our first time, isn't it?"
"I'd rather we're completely honest with each other on our first time than… well, I don't know, than having some kind of cinematographic sex scene like in movies or TV shows," Sokka said. "I mean… there's too much baggage here for us to treat it that way. We've been together for a while... and I want to think we will stay together for much longer, too. That is... as long as you want us to."
"I want us to," Azula said, softly.
"So… if I asked you to be my girlfriend, would you…?"
She nearly broke the spell of their safe word right then and there, and Sokka smiled at the grimace upon her face. He let out a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to her brow.
"My partner?" he asked. Azula sighed.
"Sounds… better, I suppose. I'm sorry, I just… can't take 'girlfriend' and 'boyfriend' seriously. It sounds so… childish, I suppose."
"Okay. We don't have to use that," Sokka said. "But I guess something like 'lover' doesn't really… yeah, well, now you're blushing."
"That one just… it always sounds like it's connected to sex, I suppose," Azula said, rubbing her cheeks bashfully as if that would make the blood relocate elsewhere – when it would likely only make the redness worse instead.
"Fair," Sokka said. "Then… dating. Does it sound weird to say we're dating?"
"Well… maybe not," Azula conceded.
"I could get you an engagement ring, if you want," Sokka smiled. "Then you'd be able to call me your fiancé instead. Maybe that's better than boyfriend?"
"Well… it's somewhat pretentious," Azula said, though she certainly didn't seem to dislike it that badly. Sokka smiled.
"Does the meaning of it feel right, though? Because if it does… does it mean you'd marry me?"
"I…"
Azula froze. The comforting contact between their foreheads ceased as she raised her head to look at him in utmost confusion. His heartfelt, hopeful smile made her heart race even faster… and she couldn't even take back her words. She didn't want to. For once, it didn't matter if it was embarrassing… she didn't want to.
"Am I being too forward, delusional, or…?" he asked, at the sight of that apprehensive expression on her face… but Azula swallowed hard and shook her head.
"Y-you're… not. I… I would probably just… react like an idiot if you asked. Because that's what I always do, but I… I'd like it if you did. I think. I… I wouldn't hate it. I… I wouldn't mind at all, I guess."
"Huh… okay," Sokka smiled, caressing her knuckles gently. "So… how does 'wife' sound to you, then? 'Husband'?"
Her lips parted as she glanced at him again. He smiled a little, offering her a weak shrug.
"I mean, if we went through it, that's what we'd be, so…" he said. "Awful too? Too old, too adult, too…"
"It'd work."
It was Sokka's turn to be utterly flustered when Azula's words took him by surprise. She shivered as their eyes met again, and her hands gripped his even more tightly… but as awkward as it might be to speak, no matter if under the protection of their 'boomerang', she had dared do so all the same.
"I… I think I could do that. Being… your wife. It sounds… a lot better than girlfriend," she said…
And she even managed a small smile. Sokka's eyes widened.
"So… you'd do it?" he asked. "We'd… get married. I mean, it doesn't have to happen soon, but… but that's how you feel? You… you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"
Azula made a face – again, it seemed their safe word kept her from saying something she really shouldn't have, so she held herself back and focused again, breathing deeply to convey her thoughts one more time.
"I… never have imagined a future where I wouldn't."
Sokka almost yelped. He covered his mouth with a hand… and it was his turn now to feel his eyes flooding with tears. Azula smiled, perhaps amused to see him being no better than her, in that respect…
"S-see, I don't exteriorize my feelings often either, so I guess that's why I'm… I'm being too emotional now," Sokka said, with a light laugh as he brushed his tears away. "I… I don't know why I never imagined you'd… w-why I always thought you'd just find some better guy and I'd just have to… t-to be the best man at your wedding or something, I don't even know…"
"You even imagined my wedding to someone else?" Azula asked, amused. "Oh, that's enough. 'Boomerang'."
"Oops…"
"Sokka, that's ridiculous," Azula blurted out, chuckling and throwing her head back as she processed his words. "Giving me away at my wedding…! How did you not imagine our wedding instead? You're not trying to say you fantasized with…!"
"Wasn't a fantasy, more like a nightmare!" Sokka squeaked, wiping his tears… though he was infected by her laughter anyway. "I did try to imagine ours, okay, b-but then I just thought that…!"
"That I'd reach the altar and when the officiant asked if I wanted to be your lawful, wedded wife, I'd just say 'that's embarrassing' and everything would fall to pieces?" Azula asked, smiling weakly… though the grin waned quickly. "Though…"
"Wait. No. Don't say you'd actually do that…!" Sokka squealed. Azula grimaced, cheeks flooding with color. "Saying 'I do' isn't that hard! It's even shorter than saying 'that's embarrassing'! Come on, Azula!"
"It's not about how long or short it is, it's just… ugh, we'll need to work through this nonsense so much more than we already have before I'm ready for a proper wedding ceremony. But at least now you know I'm not against it, okay? And I… I would marry you. I would."
"You would," Sokka said, though he eyed her warily: "Though that doesn't mean we're engaged yet because 'I would' implies I have to ask, and that you'll say yes when I do, but that I haven't really done it yet…"
"Sokka…" Azula raised an eyebrow as he stared at her intensely.
"Azula: will you marry me?"
She froze up, and he didn't lose hope even so. It took her a lot of work to speak properly now that the magic of their safe word was gone… but after a soft sigh, and while refusing to hold his gaze, she finally whispered.
"Yes."
An unusual happy gasp left Sokka's lips. Azula raised an eyebrow at the sound as he smiled brightly at her, and her pride flared up again, as it always did… before he let out a relieved laugh, dropping heavily on the mattress, arms outstretched.
"Okay. Okay, that's… that's better," he chuckled. "Though… I suppose it's not completely official yet, not until I get a ring, but I can try to get one! And, uh, maybe I could propose again with all the grandeur that people usually…"
"I would hate it if you did, so don't," Azula said. Sokka pouted. "What? Big, public, pretentious proposals have always made me roll my eyes. It feels like the people planning those are more obsessed with being flashy and showing off their love in public than… well, actually loving the person they're with."
"Huh… well, that is true," Sokka conceded. "And to be fair, I never imagined you'd agree to marry me, so I never imagined what I'd do for a big proposal…"
"You don't have to," Azula said, breathing deeply as she stretched across the bed too, landing with her head upon his arm. "We can… go to a jewelry place together, if you really want us to get a ring. Easier if we get it together so we can be sure it fits, right?"
"Huh… very practical and reasonable," Sokka smiled. "Besides, that way you get to choose whatever design you like and I don't get to fuck up by choosing something you hate."
"Exactly. Though your taste in those things doesn't tend to be tacky, but still… safer this way," Azula said.
She rolled in the mattress, winding up closer to him than before: cuddling wasn't new territory for them, and after all their confessions from moments ago, it was even a comforting necessity for them. The realization brought Sokka to smile, sliding his fingers through her hair.
"Maybe the safe word is more accurate than what I thought it was," he said. Azula raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"That… after people who are into BDSM go wild and do whatever they do, it seems they have what they call, uh, aftercare?" Sokka smiled. "We just went on a bend of emotional BDSM, looks like."
"Oh, did we, now?" Azula smiled a little. "Guess that's one way to look at it."
"And now this is our aftercare," Sokka said: his arm locked around Azula as he rolled on his side, so he'd wind up embracing her fully.
Azula nodded, face buried in the comfort of his chest. His lips pressed reassuringly to the top of her head, and a strange feeling seemed to rush through her body as they did…
It wasn't as though she'd never felt safe with Sokka. She certainly felt safer with him than with anyone else. She never had anything to fear with him… for even if he did joke around too much, and she'd be the first to admit it, she liked that about him. She liked more than just that about him, of course… perhaps there wasn't really anything about him that she didn't like.
Which meant that her feelings were certainly much deeper than simply 'liking' him.
She smiled into his chest: maybe she'd be able to say the words eventually, at this rate. Even without the safe word, it seemed that nothing could possibly dampen the moment, nothing could weaken her certainties…
And those certainties compelled her to raise her head, and to join their lips in a warm kiss.
Sokka's arms tightened around her: as ever, it was so much easier to convey their feelings this way than by doing it through words. Her hands cupped his face, keeping him in place as their exchanges deepened… as their bodies rolled together, as words faltered in the face of the emotions they exteriorized in deeply different ways.
Her hand slid under his shirt, tugging it off his body slowly as he climbed atop her. He did the same with her clothes, and she tucked her belly in instinctively, her head thrown back as his lips kissed her sensitive neck. Her legs trapped him in place briefly so her hands could caress his muscular body, product of so many years of constant exercise. His fingers raised her shirt higher still, and the fabric rode up over her body, gradually exposing her to him…
He hesitated only briefly before touching her breasts: Azula ensured it was a brief pause by clasping his hands and pressing them promptly against her chest. His face flushed, but his attempt to apologize for nearly faltering got lost somewhere in the deep kiss she offered him: he kneaded her breasts slowly then, and Azula sighed in delight for it into Sokka's eager lips.
Everything felt right: the slow stripping of each other's bodies, the inexperienced yet successfully arousing caresses, the deepening, thorough kisses. Her sports bra saw to it that he wouldn't even need to worry about undoing a clasp by the time he was ready to remove it, and they acquainted themselves more thoroughly with each other's upper body first, taking as much time as needed to adjust to the intimacy they were accessing together now.
Their hands only dove lower once their hesitation revealed they had the same idea in mind: mutual laughter, followed by more kissing, preceded their newest endeavors. Curiosity and excitement led the way, as each slid a hand into the others' underwear, exploring what had been utterly forbidden territory so far. Little by little, their touch gained more confidence as their curiosity found new purpose… and they kissed fiercely, deeply, as their fingers prodded and rubbed each other's depths, gasps and light moans spilling from their lips as the mounting excitement strengthened further.
Their first releases saw them relaxing in bed for a moment before their sensual exchanges began once more, revamped and strengthened over a first successful climax – though Sokka had been quite perplexed by Azula's, repeatedly asking if she seriously had experienced an orgasm, for he had heard far too many horror stories regarding incompetent men in bed. She had laughed off his concerns… and she had taken his manhood into her palm a second time, pumping it gently to stir him back into a full erection.
She hugged him tightly when he entered her: her rushing excitement saw to it that she wouldn't be as overwhelmed by the new sensation as she could have been. He took his time for her sake, slowing down whenever he felt her tensing up, kissing her reassuringly as she nestled in his arms. Their gradual acquaintance with this level of intimacy compelled them to be as slow as possible, to make certain that they would understand their needs, as well as the other's, as best as could be.
Their hearts raced as their bodies adapted to the excitement, to the thrills rushing across their systems in the mounting arousal that eventually found its peak in Sokka first, in Azula shortly afterwards – he didn't stop until she had attained her own climax, and his determination to do so brought a genuine smile to her face. In other circumstances, that smile would have likely been accompanied by teasing words… but not right now. Not tonight.
They lounged in bed after it ended, still locked in a tight embrace, still exchanging tender kisses as the heat smoothed over their sweaty bodies. But where their kisses had usually been so difficult to gauge, where it had always been clear to Sokka that Azula enjoyed the physical sensation of them, he finally grasped her feelings through each exchange, too. Yet she didn't settle for kisses only, when it came to conveying them…
"Boomerang," she blurted out. Sokka pressed another kiss to her lips.
"Okay," he smiled: the typical insecurities that permeated him didn't even have time to rear their heads, to convince him that she might say something devastating… for she spoke her mind too quickly for them to do so:
"I love you."
Yet again, her words rendered him breathless. His arms tensed around her… and his lips curled into a blissful smile moments afterwards. Azula smiled slightly, too…
She didn't get a response for her confession yet, for Sokka's mouth was far too busy kissing hers for him to admit he felt the same way just yet.
After another round of earnest lovemaking, one in which the shield of their safe word would last until the very final thrust, he finally found the strength in him to speak anew. His genuine blue gaze bore into her own eyes as he hugged her tightly, as she straddled his hips this time, her hair falling as curtains at either side of her face…
"I love you, too."
Azula smiled, hiding her face away from him briefly, even if his hands caressed her hair still…
"Boomerang?" she said, again. Sokka nodded, and she finally dared look at him again, still smiling fondly at him. "That's… that's embarrassing."
Whether she meant it or not, whether she was joking or not, Sokka couldn't hold back a spree of laughter of his own. She collapsed on his chest, and they laughed the rest of the night away, completely enraptured with each other in the blissful, safe space they had finally built together… a place where jokes and judgment were no longer a problem: they knew at last that they had nothing to fear, for they finally understood and accepted the feelings that dwelled in each other's hearts.
#sokkla#sokka#azula#sokkla saturdays 2022#sokklasaturdays#modern au#I always wanted to write them into a setting like this one#first time I finally dared#I hope this is good#very fluff#very feelsy#very dorky
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ok so.
the supernatural exists and its all spirits. its ghosts. and also demons. and divines (which arent gods but also are. dont ask)
this guy is called isaac harper ward but he just goes by harper.
so. ok theres this divine called the unnamed one (or just 'one' if you dont have a lot of time) and they've uncovered this grand cosmic conspiracy going on. there's another divine which is dead and its called the namesake and it's basically where every divine or spirit comes from. dont ask me how it works i dontk now but what i do know is that the namesake coming back to life would be devastating like world ending apocalypse type stuff. nobody else believes them that this conspiracy is going on tho as far as they know they're the only one that's aware of it
and there are also "unchosen ones" which is where a divine gives someone a blessing or boon and then lets it lay dormant until they need that person for something. most of the time unchosen ones die without ever being chosen.
so the unnamed one is like oh shit i need to stop the world from ending and they go to activate one of their chosen ones.
except they dont. they fail to select the right person and instead choose harper, who is NOT a chosen one. and they put him in a time loop.
so they've completely fucked everything. harper can't remember the loop, and the unnamed one can't make contact with him, they're going to be trapped in the loop forever until their power wanes, they stop being divine, and the world ends. not great!
however. harper discovers how to send objects through the time loop, and he starts sending stuff to himself. he sends a notebook with undeniable proof (to himself from himself) that he's in a time loop, and random objects start showing up that he needs to use somehow but doesnt know how he needs to use them. he's really bad at making notes so he has no fucking clue.
and. well. this is actually pretty good, it means that one has a fighting chance to win! great!
so one day. harper wakes up. and he goes about his business, and as he's eating breakfast, someone goes "ah, shit." but theres nobody around. who said that? himself!
or. a version of himself that sent himself back through the loop. enter: isaac!
(this is how he appears in dreams he doesnt. have a body.)
so isaac discovered the supernatural, and found out a /lot/. he's definitely the best loop thus far, and he has a lot of knowledge to impart onto harper. but how did he send himself back? why, magic, ofc ;)
y'see, isaac managed to communicate with a divine. he was hoping to talk to the divine that trapped him in the loop, but no such luck. instead, he made contact with the dealmaker (also known as the butcher-hart). and the dealmaker offered him a deal (who could've seen that coming?)
(gee dealmaker how come LYNX lets you have two designs)
so isaac isn't the dealmaker's chosen one, but he does have its blessing, and he's now got psychic abilities (can actually tell when something is spooky, unlike harper who is completely psychically inept), a little bit of average blessing stuff (slightly faster, slightly better normal senses, slightly less easy to hurt, that sort of thing) but most importantly, he can commune with spirits in dreams.
he communes with the unnamed one, but. well there's a problem. firstly, one is REALLY worried about the butcher-hart's involvement. the butcher's not exactly known for enjoying when mortals stay alive. but as long as something's /interesting/ to him, its probably fine, and this is a very interesting situation indeed. secondly - one doesnt actually know what the plot is. they know that it's a thing, and there are probably multiple divines working on making it happen, but they have no idea who, or what sort of things they'd need, or how far along they are, or how to stop them. luckily, they've got plenty of time! it'll take multiple mortal lifetimes for one's power to drain enough that they have no more loops.
steph wright is an amateur paranormal investigator, and an active user of the forum ParaProof, dedicated to finding undeniable proof of the supernatural - none of this blurry camera or second hand account shit. she doesn't arm herself with any of the nonsense her peers may use though - she's a diehard skeptic, and arms herself only with her trusty camera and the voice of a god in her mind.
oh yeah did i mention she's a chosen one?
the divine that chose her (^ that guy) is called the house (like in card games, not like. a building) and it happens to be one of the beings trying to revive the namesake. unluckily for harper and isaac, steph lives near them, and the house's influence over her is convincing her that they're like a spirit or something, and that she needs to gather proof. it's trying to get information on how to destroy isaac - if it can get rid of him, theres not a huge change that harper will just stumble into the supernatural again on his own, and it can just wait out the unnamed one's plan, no need to get in a fight.
eventually steph and harper team up but like. yeah thats pretty much all the plot i have thus far
THIS IS SO SICK
whats gonna happen if/when harper gets out of the loop? if one made the wrong choice with harper and couldnt choose anyone else, then i feel like maybe everyone would be fucked whether or not he gets out of the loop.
also i think its interesting that you can HAVE unchosen ones at the ready for you but you can also retroactively choose another person who wasnt on your little list of people to choose. i was slightly kinda a little bit under the impression that it would be difficult for a divine to affect someone who wasnt related to them in some way, which i guess would also be why namesake is so scary because its related to EVERYONE
#digging for mail#SORRY for responding late btw i was playing minecraft#i am a big fan of this so far also#i was in a time loop once did you know#mutual letters#LYNX
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Metro Detroiters share their thoughts on President Biden's recent student loans cancellation
Metro Detroiters share their thoughts on President Biden's recent student loans cancellation - https://www.wxyz.com/news/voices/metro-detroiters-share-their-thoughts-on-president-bidens-recent-student-loans-cancellation
...if you don't feel like reading the article, it's not a long read though, but what particularly angers me is the little vignette at the end with this girl who went to beauty school on student loans right out of high school, but that's not the career path she ended up choosing, so apparently we the taxpayers should be paying for that. It (the debt)'s been following her around, poor dear... Gee, maybe instead of just shelling out thousands of dollars, you should have thought about what you wanted to do for a living. And I understand, things change, markets change, expectations change, but what doesn't change is the fact that if you're going to drop thousands upon thousands of dollars on something, you should maybe stop to think about it for a minute first.
Or hell, the very first jackass in the article, a lot of people just get stuck after graduation having all this debt and the job market not really meeting their expectations...
First off, no, taking that class in Taylor Swift economics, or the one where you get to watch all the episodes of the simpsons, or the ubiquitous underwater basket weaving, or why white people are terrible, does not mean you're going to graduate and walk right into a job making 500 bucks an hour. Second, you have to put in some effort here. The job market wasn't what you expected, well how well did you research jobs in your field? Or the overall job market in your area. You know, these things that would rather help temper your expectations, instead of just basing them on your hopes and wishes.
Nobody knelt on your chest with a gun to your head to get fucking student loans. Due to the subsidy, and the whole system in general, you are able to pull out vast amounts of money that you normally wouldn't qualify for with no collateral, with lengthy and generous repayment terms, and not wholly obscene interest rates when you consider what a personal loan normally goes for. You want to hold someone accountable for the fact that you are tens of thousands of dollars in debt for an absolutely useless education? Your beef is with your school, not with my pocketbook.
I've said this before, I paid far too much for my education. And I don't really think I learned fuck all either. The interesting stuff that I do remember was like the arts, the history, shit like that. Shit I could have researched on my own. Shit that in no way helps me in my day-to-day job. But I knew exactly what I was signing up for. The way the system is set up, there are absolutely no surprises what I'm signing up for, how much it's going to cost, how much I'm approved for in loans, and how much I chose to take. No surprises whatsoever. And I signed a master promissory note, which basically explains in no uncertain terms, this is a loan, you are borrowing money, you will have to pay it back. I did this, everybody did this, I think it's either one of the first things you do with the fafsa, or with your school.
You took out a loan. You borrowed money. You pay it back. Using my money to bribe millennials with a shallow to nonexistent sense of personal responsibility in an election year should most assuredly be a crime of some sort. 🥔
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Republican Candidates Panicking as Millions Missing from GOP Senate Campaign Coffers
Republican Senate hopefuls are getting crushed over the airwaves, as the National Republican Senatorial Committee’s campaign fund is quickly pulling ads and nearly out of cash. This has many angry donors and campaign advisers asking “where all the money went?” Especially, after months of touting record fundraising, topping $173 million so far this election cycle. It seems Florida Sen. Rick Scott, who was put in charge of handling campaign spending, has been blowing through millions meant for Republican candidates for the US Senate. Ironically, when he was CEO of Columbia/HCA about a decade ago, Rick Scott oversaw the largest Medicare fraud scheme ever committed in U.S. history, and his organization was fined $1.7 billion.
Gee whiz! You mean to tell me GOP “grifters got grifted?” Say it isn’t so. I mean, who could have predicted something like this? Anyway, so let’s get this straight. Republicans put a guy who oversaw the largest Medicare fraud scheme in US history in charge of their finances, and now they’re at a loss to explain how nearly all that money seems to have just disappeared. Well, not to be critical, but isn’t putting Rick Scott in charge of your finances, like giving John Dillinger the combination to your safe?
That’s right, these fools put Rick Scott in charge of tens of millions in cash donations. Why, I wouldn’t trust that guy with my lunch money. Hell, if you’re going to be that stupid, you may as well just send your money off to one of those professional shysters like Jim Bakker or Alex Jones. Oh, I see…they already do that. Now, I think rather than turn that cash over to Rick Scott, they should’ve just stashed it in Mar-a-Lago’s basement. I’m sure it would have been completely safe there.
Anyway, so a bunch of donors and desperate Republican candidates and strategists - are demanding to know exactly what happened to all that money? Well, that’s easy enough to figure out. After all, five-star hotels and pool boys don’t come cheap. Besides, what’s the big deal, anyway? This is all small potatoes compared to Scott’s $1.7 billion fraudulent Medicare billing scam. For Pete’s sake, try and keep things in perspective people.
Frankly, all Rick Scott did was help put the “con” back in the term “conservative.” In fact, Floridians were apparently so impressed by how talented Scott is at bilking the system, they elected him governor, and then made him their US senator. Who says no one gets elected on merit anymore? Besides, the way the MAGA crowd looks at it, at least none of this money was wasted helping folks like elderly shut-ins, homeless vets, or hungry children.
If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve just read, please consider joining me at:
#Florida#GOP#Republicans#Politics#Current Events#News#newspapers#comedy#humor#satire#jokes#progressives#Rick Scott
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Crave chapters 51-53
Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
Chapter 51
Most of the other texts are from Macy—there are seven of them talking about what happened in the study room. She wasn’t there, but the news of what Jaxon did to the wolf alpha has obviously spread. Not that I expected any different; he did it publicly for a reason. Plus Uncle Finn showing up at the tower shows just how far and fast the news traveled.
Why the fuck is Grace surprised that the headmaster of the school heard about a huge vampire/werewolf beatdown?
He doesn’t have a clue that I know he’s been trying to kill me instead of help me.
Allegedly trying to kill her. Based solely off the word of some jealous asshole.
“Why don’t you read Ophelia in this scene?”
“Okay,” I answer, wondering why I have to play the damsel in distress. Because I’ve already read the play, I know this is the scene where Ophelia goes mad—or at least, where the audience gets to see her insanity for the first time. I try not to take it personally that she seems to think I’m the right one for the job…
At this point, at least it’s not fucking Pride and Prejuidce.
It’s harder than I want it to be, especially when I realize my World History of Witchcraft Trials (and yeah, okay, now that I know about the whole paranormal thing, classes like this one make a lot more sense) is next.
Oh gee.
“I’ve been worried about you this morning.”
“Worried about me or worried that the chandelier didn’t do its job well enough?” I query, walking faster in what I already know is a useless attempt to get away from him. He doesn’t stop walking, but everything about him kind of stills when I confront him with what Jaxon told me—which tells me all I need to know.
And still, he tries to play it off. “What do you mean? Of course I’m worried about you.”
“Give me a break, Flint. I know what you’ve been up to.”
For the first time in our entire “friendship,” anger flashes in his eyes. “Don’t you mean you know what that tick told you I was up to?”
I’m not convinced that Jaxon isn’t simply being a jealous asshole about Flint.
“I’m serious, Grace. You shouldn’t go anywhere alone. It’s not safe.”
Chapter 51 summary: As Grace goes, she checks her messages. She finds one from Macy wanting to know what had happened in the study room earlier. Which I literally forgot happened less than 30 minutes earlier. If only because the timeline in this book is so awful.
She’s halfway to class when she realizes she’s not in uniform, so she rushes back to her room to change. In English class, the teacher makes her read out Ophelia’s lines from Hamlet. Grace feels an odd connection to the girl because she thought that she was going insane. (It’s also worth noting that Ophelia killed herself. So let’s hope that the author decides to take those similarities, too.)
After class, Mekhi escorts her to her second period. As she thinks about the tunnels, she thinks about how close she’d come to another near-death experience before Lia had shown up. And shit man, was that literally yesterday? BAD TIMELINE IN THIS BOOK.
Flint shows up, and Grace calls him out. However, he doesn’t exactly deny that he hasn’t been trying to kill her, but says that it’s “not what you think”. He wants to talk to her, alone, but Grace isn’t that fucking stupid. She refuses, obviously. As she and Mekhi walk away, Flint warns her not to go anywhere alone.
Chapter 52
“Besides, I thought Jaxon was the whole reason the shifters were after me. Because they wanted payback for everything that went on with Hudson?”
So, let me see if I can follow this logic.
Hudson was a vampire.
He wanted to kill everything that wasn’t a born vampire.
He did have his followers, but Jaxon was kind of vague about who they were.
But considering that he was intent on killing anybody who wasn’t a natural vampire… why the fuck would werewolves align themselves with him? Even if they did reach a temporary agreement to leave the werewolves alone… do they think that it would last long after Hudson killed everybody else?
As usual here, the thought was there. But the math isn’t adding up.
So unless they’re playing a rousing game of Terrorize the Human, I can’t imagine what the shifters could possibly get out of trying to kill me.
I’ve been trying to puzzle that out, too.
“Because the Jaxon Vega I’ve known my whole life doesn’t almost start a war over a girl he just wants to ‘hang out’ with.”
Chapter 52 summary: As Grace and Mekhi walk through the tunnel, Grace feels much better than she had yesterday. Something that she chalks up to the easy friendship she’s forming with Mekhi, rather than the awkward “I’m going to kill you” vibes she suddenly realized she was getting from Flint. (I’m still on the fence about that, btw.)
As they go, she asks Mekhi if it’s normal not to hear from Jaxon, but he insists that Jaxon isn’t the kind of person who “checks in” on others. She asks him what Hudson was like, but he doesn’t have much to add other than what even Grace already knew about him.
Lia shows up, and insists that she can take Grace from here, since they’re going to the same place. Mekhi agrees after making sure Grace is alright with it. Once they’re alone, Lia invites Grace over to her room that evening for a “girl’s night”. Grace is kind of hesitant, since she had hoped to spend time with Jaxon, but he’s not answering. The two of them talk about grief for a moment, and Lia eventually says that she’s tired of being sad all of the time, and wants a fresh start with Grace.
Finally, Jaxon texts back. Grace promises Lia that they’ll do face masks and paint their nails another night.
Chapter 53
“Well, I like it. And the fact that it doesn’t scream that I want to get naked with him.”
“Says the girl who got up to all kinds of naughty stuff in his room today,” she says with a smirk.
“I never should have told you that! And it’s not like we got naked. We just made out.”
I would like to remind the readers that they are still in high school. They are literal children. (This message was brought to you by “being an adult” and “seeing everybody under the age of 25 as a literal child”.)
And that’s before he pulls back the curtains that cover his window, and I get my first look at what’s waiting for us.
Chapter 53 summary: The chapter starts off with Grace getting ready for her date with Jaxon. Macy insists that her cousin should wear a racy red dress with little fabric, but Grace insists on something a bit more modest. As usual, it goes on for too long with little actual point.
She goes to Jaxon’s room, where they make out a bit. He then puts a hoodie on her before he opens up the curtains.
#Crave series#Crave (Crave 1)#Chapter 51#Chapter 52#chapter 53#Macy (Crave)#Finn (Crave)#HEADDESKING#Grace (Crave)#Flint (Crave)#jaxon vega#i'm done goodbye#a does not equal b#Lia (Crave)
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your lips, my lips | b.b.
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader
warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers
word count: 2404
summary: is there a more divine thought than being kissed by bucky barnes?
note: here's another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don't have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn't like!
enjoy! <3
how do you know when james bucky barnes is going to kiss you?
you’ve learned that you’re not good at figuring out when, how, or if he is going to kiss you. there have been countless moments outside your door, inside your apartment, inside his apartment, down the street at the pizza place, where you thought… this is going to be it. he’s going to hold your face in his hands and you’re going to feel the cold sting of metal that has somehow become so warm to you. he’s going to pull you in closer to him and your eyes are going to roll back into your head and you’re going to experience the bliss that is kissing james bucky barnes.
the time has never come.
because every time you tip your head back slightly and think this is the moment, it has simply never been the moment. sometimes, bucky clears his throat and gives his head a little shake, as if ridding himself of the thought that you both just shared. the thought that you could kiss right now and never look back and hope for the best. but you know bucky, you really know him, and you know that though he may not admit it often, he is fearful. and if he’s anything like you, he’s afraid of ruining this good thing that sits between the two of you, like a glowing ball of energy and goodness and understanding.
despite your fears of never wanting this feeling to subside or fade or crash and burn in some fiery death, that doesn’t mean that every moment you’re around bucky, you’re not thinking of him kissing you. because you are. and it’s driving you slightly insane.
right now, you sit with bucky in central park. you have learned many things about him, but one of the more recent things is that he has never been on a picnic. you had gaped at him then, and you think you said something along the lines of-- “you were wooing women in the 40s and never took one on a fucking picnic?”
that’s another thing about you and bucky.
you may fear a lot, but you do not fear him.
there has never been a moment where you have pushed bucky to tell you more than he was comfortable with. at the start, once he knew that you were already well aware of who he was and some pieces of his history-- it felt like you both started with a mutual understanding. an understanding that says, i know, and it won’t make me run.
but he has told you what he wants to, in bits and pieces. the first time, it was about yori. it was about the look in yori’s eyes when he talked about his son to bucky, it was about how bucky doesn’t know how he can make amends here, how he can say or do anything to possibly help a man who has lost his son at the hands of a man who he has come to call friend.
you have watched as guilt and anger have made a mess of this beautiful man.
and what did you do in return?
sometimes, you didn’t speak. you didn’t think that was what bucky was looking for. you were simply there, with a listening ear and a careful touch.
other times, you did. other times, you couldn’t help yourself.
it was hard to sit and watch and listen to bucky torture himself over and over and over-- you would burst, you would take his metal hand in between yours and you would squeeze and you would say-- “you are not the things that they forced upon you.”
and bucky halted at that. bucky halted and he stared at you, eyes that were moments ago frantic and full of fright, trying to blink some of those feelings away. he would blink and he would try to slow his breathing and he would finally say to you, “how can you know what i’ve done and not walk away?”
“bucky, ever since i’ve known you, the only direction i’ve wanted to walk is towards you.”
he tells you the hard things.
but he also tells you the good things. the things before hydra.
like the dates he went on, the way his life looked in the forties.
so, naturally, when you found out about the lack of picnics in the life of the winter soldier-- you had taken it upon yourself to decide that a picnic was exactly what you two needed.
it was four months ago that bucky asked if you needed help building your cat tower. later, you would call him a creep for spying on you, but you would say it with a smile on your face and a light nudge to his ribs. and in four months it has been hard to stay away from him. that is, when he wasn’t away himself-- you know of his work with the falcon, and really, you think it’s a good thing. you met sam briefly a week ago, after they returned from god knows where, and sam had been nothing but a gentleman. out of the corner of your eye, you even think that you might’ve seen sam nudging bucky and murmuring something that you couldn’t quite make out.
so when he is here, you try and savor every moment, every laugh, every brush of his fingers against yours and every sweet look you two share.
and you hope that maybe one of these times, he will kiss you.
“damn-- this is good.”
the corner of your mouth turns up as you watch bucky sip on the sickly sweet wine you brought. there is a wide assortment of food before you-- strawberries and brie, crackers and cheese, plump purple grapes and chocolate that makes your mouth water. you had made sure to go all out for bucky’s first picnic.
“i didn’t know if you would like it,” you say, taking a sip from your own. “it’s like juice. so sweet.”
bucky furrows his brows. “you know i have a sweet tooth,” he mumbles and it makes your heart sigh because, yes, you do know this. you know him.
for a moment, you turn your focus on the scene in front of you. there are kids running around the park playing, couples laying in the grass, a dog owner throwing a frisbee to a black lab. everyone with their own little lives, their own quiet eternities that you will never know of. when you look at bucky, you wonder what these strangers wonder about you.
you stare and you are not embarrassed to do so, not even when bucky meets your gaze with a firm smirk. “can i help you?”
“no,” you shake your head defiantly. “just looking. is that allowed?”
“i guess,” he says and leans back on the palm of his gloved hand. “don’t know i’m much to look at.”
a snort leaves you. his brows furrow. “are you serious?” you finally ask.
“yes, i’m serious.”
“bucky, i don’t know how else to tell you this, but you are certainly not hard on the eyes.”
you watch as his face goes red and you have to halt yourself. “oh my god,” you say. “you’re blushing.”
“i am not. that’s ridiculous.”
“yes, you totally are! you’re blushing because i said you’re easy on the eyes!”
“it’s a natural bodily response.”
“sure, buck.”
there’s a beat of silence and you chuckle, if only to fill the air and to avert your eyes from his gaze. he’s staring at you with a slightly slacked jaw and a gleam in his eyes that you don’t think you’ve seen before-- and it feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped atop your head. “you’ve never called me that before,” he says quietly.
“oh, yeah, well--” you chuckle again and you shrug. “i don’t have to--”
bucky shakes his head instantly. “no. i don’t mind.”
you smile at him and you look down at your empty cup and back up to him. “we should start heading back.”
the two of you make quick work of gathering together your picnic. you laugh as bucky takes a swig from the bottle and you swat at him, saying public intoxication is very illegal, to which he rolls his eyes. you take the last sip of the bottle and then you’re on your way back to your apartment building.
the earth is on the cusp of spring-- where the nights are finally starting to get long and the air smells crisp, smells like pollen and change. you lean against bucky as you walk and you let out a sigh. “i love spring,” you murmur to him. “the world always feels so new.”
bucky looks over at you and he nods his head. “it’s nice,” he says in quiet agreement.
that’s one thing that you like about bucky-- he doesn’t fill silence unnecessarily. you do. you’ve been trying to break the habit in the months you’ve known him, much to his amusement. he has called you out plenty of times. “i can tell you’re itching to talk. i don’t mind. i like listening to you.”
he’s carrying the majority of your things and you offer to take something off his hands at least three times in five blocks, and every time he screws his face up as he looks at you, as if to say-- funny.
he’s good at saying things without really saying anything at all. you don’t like to think too hard about how he picked up that skill.
bucky helps you into your apartment with your things, and he goes a step further and he helps you put away leftovers and wash the dirty dishes you two had created. “i know if i don’t help you now, they’ll be in your sink until i come over again.”
so you stand side by side, he washes and you dry and put away. you play the bee gees and you’re surprised by how much bucky enjoys it. you’ve been traveling through decades of music with bucky, and now, you’re on seventies. bee gees, fleetwood mac, blondie, abba-- you’ve curated a perfect playlist for him. when you come home from work and hear him listening to it through the thin walls of this old apartment building, you try to ignore the way that your heart swells.
and just as fast as you got swept up in your day with james buchanan barnes, it is coming to an end. you walk him to your doorstep and you lean your head against the doorframe as he stands in it, lingering still, staring at you. “can i help you?” you mimic him from earlier.
bucky laughs.
you love that laugh. you want to earn it again and again and again.
“just looking,” he says in a voice that you have a suspicion is an impression of yours. your jaw drops, and he laughs again, and you don’t know if your heart could swell anymore.
your laughter mingles with his, like a waltz floating through the air until it dissipates above your heads. all that’s left is you and him and the dim light of the hallway and the god awful carpet. “well…” he motions behind him. “i should…”
“yeah.” you bite down on your lip and push back off the doorframe. “night, buck.”
“night, doll.”
your breath hitches and you put on your best smile and you watch as he begins to step down the hall, and finally, you click your door shut.
it’s like pure energy courses through your body. you place your hands on your hips and you pace, looking down at kitty who has emerged from your bedroom. she meows up at you, and you sigh. “oh, honey,” you murmur as you bend down to scoop her into your arms. “why won’t he kiss me?”
you stand there for a few moments before you begin to grow frustrated with yourself. why do you have to wait for him to kiss you? you know that the lines have been blurred long ago, that there is simply no way that he can look at you like that and not want to kiss you too. setting kitty down, you wipe your hands on your jeans and you decide that you are going to be bold, you are going to be brave. and if it blows up in your face… well, you’ve always been somewhat impulsive. you’ve found your way through things blowing up in your face countless times.
you swing your door open and bucky is already there.
with all of your momentum, you almost collide into him. he catches you by the elbows and looks at you, pupils slightly blown, concern on his pretty face. “were you going somewhere?”
“no!” you stammer out immediately. “no… no. i was--” you sigh and you lick your lips and you finally fix your eyes on him. “i kind of-- i kind of thought that you were going to kiss me, back there. and i was disappointed that you didn’t because… well, i don’t think i’m reading into things, but i really think that we might be on the same page about--”
bucky will never know how you were going to finish that sentence, and frankly, with all the frantic nonsense you were spewing, you don’t know if you even knew to begin with-- because he takes your face in his hands and his lips brush yours.
he’s rid the gloves. that’s the first thing you notice, that delicious cold of smooth metal again your cheek. the next is that his lips are so soft. the third is that you could kiss him forever and you think you could never grow tired of it. he is gentle yet demanding, passionate but so incredibly tender that it breaks your heart. it breaks your heart over and over again thinking about the way he thinks about himself, the things that were forced upon him.
you part. a string of spit connects your lips and it makes you laugh and it makes your cheeks grow warm. bucky reaches out with the hand made of metal and wipes your bottom lip and it makes your heart thump, thump, thump in your chest.
“we’re definitely on the same page,” is all he says before he takes your face once more. this time, you shuffle backwards and into your apartment, the door clicking shut. "there's just a dance to these things, doll."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fluff#bucky fic#the world's a little blurry#bucky x female reader#my writing#enjoy babies
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─── tired. [pt.ii]
summary: tired from a mission, you fall asleep on obi-wan's shoulder.
index: part one.
MINI-SERIES. ⟶ 2,533 WORDS.
cw: padawan!reader, master kenobi.
a/n: big thank you to those who helped me with this idea and giving me one hell of an inspiration boost!
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It felt as if you had blinked. When your eyes opened, you expected to see the inside of the ship you and your master were on, and yet, you saw the inside of your private quarters. It didn’t seem like you had fallen asleep that long, but with how heavy your head felt and the feeling of sleep in your eye, apparently it was much longer than that. On any other day, you would have assumed that perhaps you were so tired that you forgot walking to your quarters yourself, but the sheets were far too neatly tucked to have been your doing.
Someone had carried you, and that same someone had tucked you in.
You sit up and look around, expecting to find something. You were alone in the room, that much was clear. How long it was since you were brought here, you don't know, but it’s definitely no mystery as to who that someone was. After all, who else was with you when you fell asleep? Then, speak of the devil, your comlink beeps. It’s loud enough that it startles you wide awake, as you scramble about in the sheets after patting your pockets and finding them empty. Finally, after some more digging, your fingers touch the curve of it and you quickly pick it up, but much too quick, you find, it slips right out of your hand and goes flying for your door.
Hitting the floor with a thud, your knees sink into the carpet as you start to shuffle over to your discarded, and hopefully not broken, comlink, almost burning your knees through the fabric of your robes. Imagine having to tell the Council that the red marks on your knees were due to carpet burn and not the mission. As you reach your comlink and swoop it up in your hand, you try your best to sound casual and not as if you had just woken up and bee-lined for the call.
“Hello?”
“Ah, you’re awake. How did you sleep?” it’s your master’s voice.
“Um, good, thank you.” you wait a moment. “How did I get here?”
You can hear Obi-Wan chuckle through the line. “You were completely asleep by the time the jet landed. I couldn’t find it in myself to wake you up.”
Okay. Processing... connecting the dots... registering. Obi-Wan, your master, carried you all the way from the hanger bay to your quarters?
“Yes, well, I couldn’t have woken you up even if I tried.”
Oh kriff, you had said your thoughts out loud.
“There’s much to do today. I know you would like to get some more rest in, but I hardly think I would be much of a Jedi Master if I let you take a day off.”
“Right, of course.” you say. “I’ll be ready in a moment.”
“Take your time. We don’t want you walking around with your robes on backward again, do we?”
Click. You hang up on Obi-Wan.
─────── ⋯ ───────
Obi-Wan’s lips curve into a soft smile, barely there but still noticeable. His comlink sits inside his pocket after he had put it there with a laugh, thinking of how you must have groaned at the memory he mentioned when he had called you earlier. He couldn’t help it, he loved to poke fun at you from time to time—you almost made it too easy. He also couldn’t help but think of you earlier, falling asleep on his shoulder. It was cute.
“Master Kenobi?”
His eyes lift up to the mention of his name. For a moment, he looks on in silence, wondering why he had been called (and completely forgetting his reason for being here), until he remembers.
“Yes,” he sits up in his seat, knees hitting each other. “I believe so.”
The Council members nod and for a moment it seems as if he’s getting away with the very obvious fact that he hadn’t been paying attention. Only for a moment. His arm is nudged by the Jedi next to him, one who had been on the mission too, and he quirks his brow. Obi-Wan shakes his head before crossing his arms and looking outward again, this time actually trying to listen.
He can hear the Jedi chuckle beside him, but he doesn’t mind. He’s alright being swept up in his thoughts of you, of how proud he is of you and of how young you make him feel, as the years go on and he finds himself growing further away from the young padawan he used to be. You almost help him make time stand still, like there could never be a sunset with the promise of spending the day with you. When he’s with you, he feels that same easy-going amiability he felt with his former master.
When the meeting is over and Obi-Wan leaves the room alongside the other Jedi, he finds you standing not too far from the door. The first thing he does is check your robes. On right. Good. The next thing he does is smile at you, which has you bopping a bit on the spot and smiling back at him. Sometimes he thinks one look at your smile could end the war. If only it were that simple.
“You look well-rested.” Obi-Wan says as he nears you, patting you ‘hello’ on the shoulder.
You smile, looking around you, watching the other Jedi walking past for a moment. “That was the most sound sleep I’ve had in months.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad to hear it. That must mean that you’re ready for a full day of training.”
The grumble under your breath does not go amiss to Obi-Wan.
─────── ⋯ ───────
You’re so tired again. This time it wasn’t a long mission, or an army of droids, but your very own master who had the audacity to smile at you all dazzling-like, as if he couldn’t tell how badly you wanted to hit your bed right now—or the floor, if you stay here any longer—after the training you went through today. He was seemingly upping the pressure each time you two trained and you had to wonder why he was doing so all of the sudden. Anytime you asked him, though, you were met with the same response: “It’s for your benefit.” Gee, thanks.
By the time your heels are aching, Obi-Wan finally calls a wrap on training. You could jump with glee if you had the energy, so instead you just smile at him and mutter a ‘thank you’ as you reach for your cloak on the chair beside him.
“You’re doing very well. I can see your progress each day.” he says, smiling up at you.
“All thanks to your training, master.” you reply, trying to hold back a yawn.
Obi-Wan chuckles. “You better go get some rest.”
“If you insist.” you shrug your shoulders, even though you’re internally crying with joy, then slip your cloak on.
You tell him goodbye, and goodnight, before trudging out of the training room and heading over to your private quarters. As you turn down the hallway where your door is, you’re greeted by a few other padawans who are walking in the direction you came from. They smile politely at you and you offer a wave, when suddenly one of them says: “Caraya’s soul, you look like death.” GEE, THANKS.
“I’ve been training so much these last few days,” you tell them. “I’m just really tired.”
“Where’s Master Kenobi?” one of them asks, looking behind you.
“Back in the training room. Why do you ask?”
“I figured he’d carry you to your quarters again.”
Some of them giggle when you stand there mutely. Take a deep breath, you tell yourself, then you try to laugh it off. “You saw that?”
“Who didn’t? You were out like a saber.”
“If you ask me,” another one pipes up. “it was pretty romantic. I wish he’d carry me like that.”
“You’re so lucky to have him as a master.”
You start to zone out from the embarrassment of it all, only picking up a few words and the grumble of one of them being trained by Master Windu. It’s a bit of a blur when they say goodbye, with you forming a smile in a tight line and then hurrying into your quarters just up ahead. They saw! If they saw, then who else did? You hadn’t really ever thought about it. To be honest, you were trying to forget about it. You’re so incredibly tired and this isn’t helping.
“Oh, Maker,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is horrible! How can I possibly fall asleep now?”
As soon as you hit the bed, you’re out.
─────── ⋯ ───────
It’s for your benefit, that’s what Obi-Wan kept telling you. It wasn’t exactly the honest answer, but in a way it was. Truthfully, Obi-Wan does want to see you progress to becoming a Jedi Knight. He knows you have it in you. Yet also truthfully, he’s been pushing a bit more with your training because... well because he’s holding onto the ridiculous hope that you might fall asleep on his shoulder again if you’re really tired.
He thought he had done rather well at avoiding attention the day he carried you back to your quarters. No one had spoken about it and he hadn’t heard a single mention of it from the Council either. Yet all it takes is the giggling of a few padawans walking toward the training room, hushed together, and becoming silent the moment they see him standing in the doorway for him to think kriff. He steps to the side for them to walk on ahead and they all smile at him politely, before going back to their hushed talking.
Obi-Wan makes a hurried pace over to your quarters. He’s hoping they didn’t say anything to you, or that you didn’t piece it together by their giggles alone, like he just did. It’s a horrible feeling in his chest when he knocks on your door. He’s felt his heart skip a beat many times in his life, mostly when fighting, but nothing compares to the feeling now—it’s almost thunderous. The true worry starts to kick in when you don’t answer his knocking. Were you upset? Embarrassed? It’s too much for Obi-Wan to think about, so he pushes the door open with the force and steps inside, ready to apologize or at least explain himself, when a noise shuts him up.
You’re... snoring.
There you are, sprawled out on the bed, almost looking like a heap of fabric and you’re snoring. Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he should be happy or disappointed that you’re asleep, and then all together he feels apologetic. He worked you too hard. He let himself want so much that he didn’t even really think about how it was affecting you. He feels like the most oblivious Jedi Master in the galaxy.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, though he knows you can’t hear him.
He stands there a bit awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. He needs to tell you he’s sorry in person, not like this. Letting out a deep sigh, he turns on his heel and makes his way back over to the door, and then for the second time since he stepped inside your quarters, a noise stops him in his tracks.
“Obi-Wan,” it’s your voice, muffled and sleepy.
His heart is definitely thundering. He steps back over to you quickly, his fingers instinctually reaching out to brush gently along your cheek. “Yes?”
Your eyes flutter open and his worries dissipate when you crinkle your nose at him, smiling slightly. There it is, the smile that could end the war.
“Can you tuck me in before you go?”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, feeling all the weight in his chest drop to his feet and melt into the floor. “Of course, dear one.”
He’s as gentle as ever, pulling the sheets up and over your body, moving the pillow slightly so that you can lay more comfortably. It’s almost like the first time, expect this time your eyes are still smiling up at him. When he’s done, he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead and this time he can see just how far your smile grows.
“Rest well.”
He lets you sleep in the next morning, no matter what kind of Jedi Master that makes him.
─────── ⋯ ───────
The jet lands smoothly and Obi-Wan is thankful. He didn’t want a rough landing to wake you up, but then he remembers that you have to wake up—the jet is landed and it’s time to get off. But he can’t. He can’t wake you, not when you look so peaceful and he was enjoying the feeling of your head on his shoulder. He probably could have gotten some sleep in as well, if he was being honest with himself. You have a way of helping him switch off of battle mode; turning him back into a person, rather than a General.
He simply wants this moment to last a little longer, but the door hisses open and the ramp lowers before he could even think to wish the thought. He doesn’t let up, though, so he waits until you’re both the last people on the jet. Then, very gently, he moves to cradle you in his arms; scooping you up and lifting you from the seat. He carries you the way over to your private quarters, not caring about some of the eyes on him, but does take an alternate route to save yourself from any future embarrassment, should anyone mention it to you when you’re awake. You’re still a padawan but no longer a child. He can only imagine what a sight this is and how you’d hold this to him for months if word spread.
When the door opens and he walks inside, he almost stops to allow the feeling of you in his arms to linger just a little longer, yet settles you down onto your bed before he can let himself stand there. He tucks the sheets in over your body, after putting your lightsaber on the nightstand. He wouldn’t want that turning on, Maker knows he’s almost done it a few times. Your hand is curled in an open fist on the pillow, right beside your face. You look so peaceful, not at all as if you had fought off a hoard of droids just a few hours before.
He wonders if you’re dreaming and, maybe, if those dreams involve a life free from the Order, where you didn’t have to fight for peace because there was already peace in the galaxy. Obi-Wan won’t lie to himself, he’s often wondered what his life would be like if he weren’t a Jedi and if there were no war. Would he farm? Would he do something creative, like paint? Would he still have met you? No, there’s no dream that could be worth nearly enough from the reality of knowing you. He wouldn’t offer it up for anything.
The only dream Obi-Wan has is that you can fall asleep on his shoulder again.
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#obi-wan kenobi x reader#obi-wan x reader#obi-wan kenobi imagine#obi-wan imagine#star wars imagine#obi-wan kenobi imagines#obi-wan imagines#star wars imagines#obi-wan fanfic#obi-wan fanfiction#star wars prequels#obi-wan kenobi#imagine#oneshot#star wars oneshot#obi-wan kenobi oneshot#obi-wan oneshot
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Yup, Sure Was a Finale
I had an epiphany. The reason why I never re-watched the final two parts of Sozin’s Comet even though I’ve popped in episodes at random many times over the years isn’t that I can’t bear the sadness of seeing one of the best, most engaging narratives out there come to an end.
It’s simply that the finale isn’t all that good.
Some honorable mentions of what was enjoyable.
(+) This
Just this.
(+) The Church of Zutara has another convert
“Are you sure they don’t get together?” Hubster, 2020
(+) The tragedy of Azula
And the fact that it’s acknowledged as such. I hope Zuko will do his best to get her help and have a relationship with her…
(+) Sokka being a big bro
And the whole airship sequence in general. It’s wonderfully paced and plotted, with moments of humor, real stakes, Toph being both badass and a scared crying kid, Sokka strategizing and protecting, Suki saving the day, and non-benders being instrumental in thwarting the bad guy firebender’s plans. Would be shame if Bryke never portrayed them this capable ever again…
And now for the main course.
(-) Blink and its over
The wrap-up feels too quick (hashtag Needs More ROtK-style False Endings). A part of this is due to how fast the story goes from the thick of the action to hastily tying up a bunch of loose ends, but the larger issue is how Book 3’s uneven pacing comes home to roost. After spending half a season on filler episodes that at best subtly flesh out established characters while dancing around a huge lionturtle-shaped hole, and at worst contradict the theme of “no one is born bad” with “you’re a hot mess because your great-grandfathers didn’t get along too well”, the frantic “go go go” rush of the second half screeches to a halt with “they won and everyone was happy because now the right people have power and it will be all good from now on yup nothing more to deal with baiiiii”.
Yes, I know, it’s a kids’ show. But goddamn, this particular kids’ show has proven so many times it can do better than the expected tropiness. Showing the characters in their roles as builders of a new world was the least that could have been done.
Oh well!
(-) Ursa
We’ll never know. There will never be a story that delves into this. Yup. Shall forever remain but an intriguing mystery. Is good, though. Mystery is better than a story where Ursa shares her son’s penchant for forgetfulness. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. Speaking of which…
(-) What does Mai see in this jerkbender?
Look, I like to harp a lot on the mess of inconsistent writing that’s Mai but let’s unpack this scene from her perspective, shall we?
Zuko forgot about her! It totally slipped his mind that the one person who prioritized the safety of his dumb ass was rotting in the worst prison in the Fire Nation—because of him! And she was rotting there long enough after the final Agni Kai for the news of Zuko’s upcoming coronation to spread and her uncle to feel sufficiently secure to release her. But then the coronation scene is attended by every single member of Gaang & Friends that was imprisoned?
So what this tells me is that either a) the invasion force had the ability to break themselves out the whole time and for some reason decided not to exercise it until after the war was over, b) Zuko forgot about them as well and no one thought to remind him there were prisons full of POWs until Mai arrived, or, and that’s even better, c) Zuko took care to free every single resistance fighter while making sure Mai would be the one to stay behind bars.
Never thought I’d say this but Mai? Honey? You deserve so much better.
(-) “What does Katara want?”
Asked no one in the writers’ room ever, apparently.
This is not so much anti Cataang as anti romance stories that pay attention to the needs, opinions, and wants of only one partner in general. Over the previous 60 episodes, Katara actively expressed romantic interest in Aang exactly, wait for it,
Once.
And it got retconned out of relevance by the following two interactions where the possibility of a romantic relationship came up, making the Headband dance pretty easy to reclassify as just one of those examples where Aang “teaches” Katara to have fun (as if one of the main obstacles to her having fun wasn’t him constantly fooling around and offloading his duties). And because the writers not only didn’t succeed in portraying Katara’s internal state of mind, but also failed to root her reluctance to pursue a relationship in outside circumstances that could change, her sudden state of unconfused once Aang steps into the spotlight has a single canonical explanation that as much as approaches coherency.
The fact is, though, that trying to interpret canon Cataang from a Watsonian perspective is an exercise in foolishness. Because there is no Watsonian justification for the ship and never has been. Bryke simply conceived of Katara as nothing but a tropey prize for Aang, never saw her as anything beyond that, and were perfectly happy to go on and immortalize her as a passive broodmare for the rest of her life.
And I fully intend to die mad about it.
(-) Iroh dips
OK, it’s been long apparent that the show doesn’t intend to do anything about Iroh’s complicity in AzulOzai’s regime in any meaningful way, and that his sole motivation for doing anything whatsoever is Zuko whom he views as a replacement son which is supposed to be good for some reason. But the finale has him abandon even that, and instead turns him full-on YOLO, idgaf anymore. It really throws Iroh’s supposed love for Zuko into doubt when his last act in the entire show is to take a half-educated 16-year old with no political savvy or an heir to secure a dynastic continuity and plomp him on the throne of a war-mongering imperialist regime where the entirety of the militarist and ruling class is guaranteed to fight him tooth and nail for power.
(I sure hope Mai’s ready to start popping out babies by tea-time otherwise the whole country is fukd in about a week)
Christ, how hard would it be to have Iroh keep the throne warm for a few years while Zuko is getting ready to succeed him? Not only would it make the whole FN reformation bit quite likelier to occur, it would require Iroh’s hedonistic ass to actually sacrifice something for once. And not having Zuko ascend to power, instead spending some time bettering and educating himself first, would be a wonderful message that no matter what you endured and overcame, you never stop growing. A kids’ show, remember?
(-) The conquering of Ba Sing Se
Gee, I feel so blessed to have my attention diverted from battlefields which actually matter to an old dude vanity project I would have been perfectly happy to assume resolved itself off-screen.
The White Lotus in general just bugs me. I was fine with the individual characters and their overall passivity when they were portrayed as lone dissenters living under circumstances where it wasn’t really possible for any single person to mount a meaningful resistance. But as members of a far-reaching shadowy organization that’s left the real fight to a bunch of kids for 59 episodes straight and didn’t turn up until a perfect opportunity presented itself to take control of the largest city in the world and bask in the spotlight?
Yeah, no.
Similarly to the lionturtle-ex-machina, the White Lotus represents a huge missed opportunity for a season-long storytelling. Here’s just a brief list of what they could have been doing throughout Book 3:
orchestrating a Fire Nation uprising;
gathering those directly persecuted by AzulOzai’s regime to help Zuko keep his hold on power once he’s crowned;
establishing themselves as a viable alternative to Ozai;
sabotaging Fire Nation’s war efforts from the inside;
countering Fire Nation propaganda (Asha Greyjoy’s pinecones, anyone?);
running a supply network to alleviate the suffering of Earth Kingdom citizens.
Instead, they sit on their asses until the time comes to claim personal glory.
You know what, good on Bryke for making me conclude that in comparison, the Freedom Fighters were perfectly unproblematic, actually.
(-) Fire Lord Dead-by-Dawn
Yes, a kids’ show, I know! But ffs, this is the same kids’ show that came up with Long Feng and portrayed courtly intrigue, kingly puppets, secret police, spy networks, and information wars. Was it really too much of me to expect something other than “enlightened despot solves everything”? Especially if said enlightened despot has persisting anger issues, no personal support system, no base of followers, and no political experience whatsoever?
If Zuko’s actually serious about regaining the Fire Nation’s honor (i.e. by dismantling the country’s military machine, decolonizing the Earth Kingdom, paying reparations to everyone and their lemur, and funding any and all cultural restoration projects Aang and the SWT come up with), then there is no way, no way in the universe that he doesn’t face a civil war, deposing, and execution within a month.
One reason why his future as a Fire Lord seems rather bleak is that little’s been shown about the actual subjects of AzulOzai’s regime. While we get a vague reassurance that “no Toph, they’re not born bad” (le shockings), they largely remain a voiceless uniform mass of brainwashed clapping seals. What is their view on the Fire Nation’s crimes? Do they associate their condition with their country’s war-mongering? How will they react when Zuko starts dismantling the country piece by piece to rebuild it, bringing it to economic ruin? What will they do when noble Ozai loyalists come out of the woodwork and begin rounding them up under the banner of “Make the Fire Nation Great Again?”
I have no idea, and Zuko doesn’t either because he’s unironically more qualified to rule the Earth Kingdom than his own people.
You know what would have been better? Fire Lord Iroh, White Lotus pulling the strings to maintain the regime, and Crown Prince/People’s Champion Zuko travelling the Fire Nation with Aang and an army of tutors to promote the new boss, only to realize that absolute monarchy is kinda crap for the people he’s one day supposed to rule and gaining their support by ceding some power to them.
I’d laser holes into my TV due to how much I’d enjoy watching that.
(-) All hail Avatar Rock
Literally and metaphorically. Aang doesn’t sacrifice anything, gets everything, and the clever solution of going about getting said everything is handed to him on a silver platter, requiring no active participation on his part whatsoever.
He doesn’t work to unblock his chakras, spiritually or physically.
He only speaks to his past lives to get a pat on the back and a bow-tied solution he could mindlessly follow.
Energy-bending doesn’t require any sacrifice from him, leaves no lasting marks, and only serves for the narrative to praise him as the rare individual that’s unbendable and thus so very very special.
The most infuriating thing is, however, that Aang is clearly shown as being able to beat Ozai without either the Avatar state, or energy-bending.
And he chooses not to. From this moment on, Aang no longer fights to save the world. He fights to preserve his beliefs, going directly against the instructions of his past lives and effectively reneging on his duties as the Avatar.
Again.
It’s not like you can’t portray Aang’s faithfulness to his spiritual beliefs as the key to beating Ozai and saving the world. But that’s not what the show did. There is no link between Aang sparing Ozai and securing a better future, quite to the contrary—Ozai’s survival ends up being a massive problem for the continuation of Zuko’s rule, and consequently a threat to the world at large. His survival benefits Aang and no one else.
Aang’s spiritual purity and his status as a savior of the world are allowed to coexist only due to a deliberate stroke of a writer’s pen.
And I hate it.
Welp, nothing to do about it now except to bury myself up to my tits in fix-it fics I guess.
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I saw your ask/answer that mentioned your writing developing from maladaptive daydreaming. I actually struggle (not sure if that's the word but its the word I'm going to use) with that a great deal and actually started writing in part to try and actually have some sort of creative output to go along with all the mental work. Another reason was you! You obviously write what you want, world be damn, and I eat that shit up. Seriously, it might be weird but I look up to it. To you. A whole bunch. It actually made me feel good? Hopeful, maybe? When I read that you share that experience.
To the actual question portion of this ask: how did you translate your maladaptive daydreaming to your writing? I have all these ideas and scenes in my head. Entire conversations. Yet, I struggle to manifest them anywhere near what I want. I know practice makes perfect, but what/how exactly do I practice? I'm not entirely sure where to begin.
Hi! 💕💞
I'm so happy you like the writing, and this message was super sweet and I adore it! I appreciate your kind words so so much 🥰 I think writing is an excellent way to put the daydreaming to a creative use and create an outlet for those of us that tend to lose ourselves in our head!
So... I'm a little strange. Ever since I was super young, I've been like... insanely fixated on things I probably was too young to even know about. Like I knew way too much for someone of like 5. I knew I was weird, but I didn't know how. I wanted something (turns out it's uhhh this. Fucking wild, I know. Didn't even know it existed till like a few years ago but some part of me was super into it) but didn't know what it was. I was fixated on villains and all things... not super good.
Basically, when I got old enough and a friend's sister introduced me to FF net, I immediately began translating those fantasies onto paper and also reading everyone elses. I would take things that I wanted, and put them into a word doc, and then tada! I ended up here.
My process goes like this:
I'm usually doing something super mundane and my head goes "well what would you rather be doing or thinking about?"
And that's where the fantasy sets in.
I then proceed to spend every single minute until I go to bed fine-tuning the fantasy down to the most minute details. Usually it's aspects of my life but with uhhhh other bad stuff. You know, things that would make me happy.
If I like it enough or it's not... too weird... I'll write it.
So when you sit down to write, get a basic outline of the scene you want. The characters, where they are, and a very basic idea of what to happen. Then, if things aren't flowing super naturally, just write the most basic form of it. Even something like "Guy pushes girl against wall and kisses her. She tries to punch him. He locks her arms--" Etc.
Then when you have that, just let your daydreaming go wild. What would you want in the scene? What details would make it perfect? Slowly go through and add them. When your write for yourself, it's a lot easier because it feels more natural and obviously you know what would make you happy. When you aren't actively writing, chances are we're daydreaming anyway, so daydream about the scene. About what would really bring it together nice and tight.
Like if I'm at work and I go "Gee, suuuuure would be dope if when I closed up, I got cornered by some dastardly sexy dude with bad intentions!"
(Obviously not really like fantasy is different from reality. I know I shouldn't have to say that but apparently some folks on here struggle with the concept of reality =/= fantasy.)
Then I spend the entire time closing up picturing what I'd personally like. Then I have the form in my head and can replace faceless guy with X Character and so on and so forth.
That's basically how I do it. 💟
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Assuage: Chapter 21
Yoongi x Reader
Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Brief mention of abuse.
When Yoongi woke up the next morning, the first thing that he realized was that you were already awake and scenting him with your nose pressed against his scent gland.
“Baby?” He called out questioningly and you just hummed in reply. “You ok?”
“I can’t just scent you?” You murmured.
“Of course you can, it just seemed a little random,” he chuckled deeply. “And you usually ask first.”
“I missed you a lot, even though it was only a day,” you confessed as you pulled your nose away and looked up at him. “You didn’t smell like me anymore and that makes my Omega uncomfortable.”
“Well, scent away,” Yoongi said as he lifted his neck to expose his neck and you dove back in, taking your time as you dragged your nose along his skin.
“You’re gonna have to go and talk to my brother,” you whispered and Yoongi just sighed heavily.
“Do I really have to?” He huffed. “He almost killed me, Y/N-ah.”
“Joon could never kill anyone, unless provoked,” you told him as you sat up and looked down at him. “And yes, you have to go talk to him since he technically cast you out of the pack but all you have to do is tell him exactly what you told me last night.”
“And he’ll let it go?”
“My brother can be a dick but he can also be pretty understanding so I think so,” you nodded. “And even if he doesn’t, I’ll have your back.”
“Fuck, fine,” Yoongi relented and you leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.
After the two of you showered, got dressed, and ate, you led him across the territory to the Head Hall and up the stairs to the second floor where Namjoon’s office was located.
“I see everything worked out between you two,” Taehyung smirked when he saw the two of you walking up to his desk, hand in hand.
“Don’t be so smug about it,” you rolled your eyes.
“I’m guessing that you’re here to speak to Joon hyung,” Taehyung guessed, and you and Yoongi both nodded in confirmation. “Well, lucky for you guys: he just got out of a war strategy meeting with Hobi hyung and he looked pretty pissed off.”
“Gee, thanks Taehyung,” Yoongi grumbled, making Taehyung laugh out loud.
“He’s free right now, so go ahead in,” Taehyung said as he waved towards the door of Namjoon’s office.
“Uh, give me a sec,” you told Yoongi and he nodded before pressing a kiss to your cheek and walking over to wait in front of the office door.
“What’s up?” Taehyung wondered as he looked at you.
“I just, uh, wanted to say thank you,” you said. “For figuring out that something was amiss and going to find Yoongi.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Taehyung shrugged with a smile. “It was the right thing to do. He makes you so happy Y/N-ah, and I wasn’t going to let Seo-hyun fuck that up for you.”
“You know, I think Joon and I are very lucky that Mom and Dad fought to keep you,” you told him, which made him grin widely. “Joon and I would be a pair of bumbling idiots without you.”
“Mom said you two would need me,” Taehyung puffed his chest out proudly. “I love you Y/N-ah.”
“I love you more Tae,” you cooed, leaning over his desk and gently kissing his cheek before pulling back. “Now wish us luck.”
“Good luck,” he smirked knowingly and you turned around and walked over to the door, joining Yoongi who had been patiently waiting.
“Here goes nothing,” you sighed as you reached up and knocked on the door three times.
“Come in,” Namjoon’s muffled voice called out and you opened the door, poking your head inside.
“You free?” You asked and he nodded his head. You then stepped inside, pulling Yoongi in behind you as well before shutting the door.
“Ok, now before you start yelling,” you began before Namjoon even had the chance to start talking. “Let me explain.”
“I’m not gonna yell Y/N-ah,” Namjoon chuckled as he sat back in his desk chair and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“You’re...not?”
“Nope,” he replied. “Taehyung came and explained everything to me yesterday. He woke the girls up from their naps and pissed Hyo off in the process, but he told me nonetheless.”
“Of course he did,” you laughed in disbelief.
“Yoongi, I’d like to apologize,” Namjoon said as he looked over at Yoongi. “I didn’t allow you the opportunity to explain yourself and for that, I was wrong.”
“It’s ok,” Yoongi shrugged. “I know that as Pack Alpha, everyone’s safety is your main priority so I don’t blame you.”
“It’s also a part of my job as Pack Alpha to trust my pack members, just as they trust me to be able to lead you all,” Namjoon explained. “So, I would like to invite you, formally, to become a permanent member of this pack.”
“I’d love to,” Yoongi grinned widely.
“Great,” Namjoon smiled.
“Congratulations baby!” You exclaimed, leaning over and kissing him firmly. “Tae’s gonna flip!”
“He’s probably listening at the door so he already knows,” Namjoon said.
“I resent that!” You heard Taehyung scream through the door, which made all three of you laugh.
“Um, I wanted to ask you something,” Yoongi said as he looked at Namjoon. “Is the fight still on?”
“Yes, it is,” Namjoon sighed. “We have five days until Seo-hyun said that he was going to be back.”
“I’d like to fight with you all,” Yoongi announced, causing both your and Namjoon’s eyes to widen.
“What?” You questioned.
“Yoongi, you don’t have to do that,” Namjoon told him.
“Yeah, you don’t,” you agreed.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Yoongi asked.
“For one thing, you’ve never fought in a war from what Taehyung told me last night,” Namjoon pointed out. “And for two, you’d be fighting against your former pack. I know that they treated you terribly but it still will probably be hard for you.”
“That might be true but this is my pack now,” Yoongi stated firmly. “And I want to fight to protect it.” A few seconds of silence passed over the room then before Namjoon spoke up again.
“Alright, fine,” Namjoon relented. “We’ll have to get you in training right away.”
“Alright,” Yoongi nodded before turning to look at you. “Don’t be mad at me please.”
“I’m not,” you assured him. “But we can talk more about it later.”
“I love you,” Yoongi cooed and you smiled at him.
“I love you too,” you replied.
..........................................................
Later that night, after going to training with Namjoon, Hobi, Jungkook, and some other Alphas and Omegas, Yoongi was out amongst the trees at the edge of the territory. After the (albeit shirt) amount of time that the two of you were apart, you still weren’t the biggest fan of being away from him so he had decided to chop some more wood for your place before meeting you back there.
As he was doing so though, he was shocked when he heard rustling from beyond a cluster of trees.
“Who’s there?” He called out, pausing in order to listen better. When he didn’t receive an answer, he gripped onto the handle of the ax that he was holding tighter.
“I’m Prime asshole, so think about your next steps very carefully,” Yoongi warned and a shadowy figure stepped out from behind a tree and when they stepped closer, Yoongi couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Yeah well, tell me something that I don’t know,” the man laughed and Yoongi just gaped at him in disbelief.
“Kihyun?” He called as the Alpha walked closer to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Well, I was hoping to receive a better greeting than that from one of my closest friends,” Kihyun joked and Yoongi just laughed before launching himself at Kihyun, hugging him tightly.
“What are you doing here?” Yoongi repeated as he pulled away from the hug. “You would’ve been detained or killed if anyone else caught you.”
“I know but I had to come and see you,” Kihyun replied. “After Seo-hyun came back and announced that you were still alive, I had to see it for myself.”
“That was really dangerous and stupid of you Kihyun,” Yoongi told him.
“I’ve spent the last six months thinking that you were dead,” Kihyun shot back. “You can’t blame me.”
“Yeah well,” Yoongi shrugged. “How have you been though? Everyone been treating you ok?”
“I’m fine hyung,” Kihyun nodded. “I see that you’re ok too.”
“Yeah, the Kim Pack took me in,” Yoongi said.
“I hope that doesn’t mean that you plan on fighting with them in a few days.”
“Actually, it does.”
“Why would you do that?” Kihyun wondered. “You can’t fight against your pack.”
“They’re my old pack and if you remember correctly, they left me for dead,” Yoongi pointed out. “This is my new pack and I am going to fight to protect it from Seo-hyun because I don’t want him doing the same thing to them that he did to our pack.”
“Seo-hyun just wants us to be strong,” Seo-hyun tried to say.
“And he has to abuse people and try to take over other packs in order to do that?” Yoongi demanded to know. “Kihyun, I love you. You’re the person that kept me sane all of those years after my parents died and I’ll always appreciate you for it, but you can’t seriously believe that what Seo-hyun is doing is right.”
“....I didn’t come here to argue with you hyung,” Kihyun finally said after a few moments of silence. “I just wanted to come and see you.”
“Despite everything, I am happy to see you kid,” Yoongi smiled gently. “Even if it was dumb.”
“I love you hyung,” Kihyun said before hugging Yoongi again.
“I love you too,” Yoongi responded before letting go of Kihyun. “Be safe.” Kihyun nodded and just as quick as he had appeared, Yoongi watched as he disappeared back into the trees.
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hiii i am absolutely obsessed with ur drabbles could u please do nalu #4 and #39 pls🥺
“Walk out that door and we’re through” + “Please come home, I miss you”
This was tough cause the questions could trigger a story similar to this one I also did for these prompt asks round. But I think I can make it different enough, albeit angst hell 😅 here we go! It’s a little rushed but longer then I expected for a ficlet lol
“Lucy,” Natsu knocked at the office door, “it’s time to go.”
“Where?” She answered without looking up.
“Levy’s birthday party.”
“Oh!” Lucy sat up in her desk chair and turned her body to face her husband. “Right! I forgot. Um, shucks, but I’m on a writing high right now and I can’t stop— tell her I’ll make it up to her, will ya?”
She always says that… Natsu sighed, “yeah, sure…”
Levy Redfox was Lucy’s childhood best friend and while the woman was also his friend, it just didn’t sit well with Natsu that she’d choose writing over the woman. But this had been an ongoing issue lately... Don’t get him wrong, he fully supported his wife’s career as an author, especially now that it’s really starting to take off. The issue was it had consumed her at the expense of everyone around her.
He knocked on their friends door, answered by Levy herself.
“Natsu!” Levy hugged the man excitedly, but when she noticed he was alone, frowned a tad. “Again, huh?”
“I’m sorry, Levy,” Natsu’s shoulders slumped. “Lucy’s in a,” he made quotation marks in the air, “‘writing high,’ and said she’ll make it up to you.”
“Well, I’m glad you came,” the woman smiled despite the sadness hiding behind her eyes.
All of their closest friends were in attendance and spent the evening talking, eating, and playing a few fun birthday games. It distracted him to some extent, but as the night wore down and the other guests had all left, Natsu, his best friend Gray Fullbuster, Levy, and her husband Gajeel sat around in the living room talking about the elephant in the room. Lucy.
“I’ve tried talking to her,” Levy said quietly, “but, I try not to make it sound too harsh.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what you need to do babe,” Gajeel chimed in. “Be blunt.”
“Yeah, I’m like you,” Natsu agreed with Levy. “It’s not easy to bring it up cause she’s oblivious about it.”
“But it’s hurting your marriage man!” Gray looked at Natsu. “And your friendship,” he switched to Levy. “I’m with Gajeel. If you aren’t honest with her, it’s not gonna get better.”
“Think I don’t know that?!” Natsu spat back. “Think I enjoy being the only one in that house in pain?! I don’t, but—” his voice cracked, “I’m worried I’ll push her away if I say something.”
“She’s already pushing you away dude. Do you still love her?”
“Of course, I do,” Natsu sighed. “I love her more than anything, but apparently it’s not enough… we haven’t even… you know, I can’t remember the last time.”
“Wow… Then you really gotta tell her. All of it,” Gray coaxed.
Levy who’d sat quietly through the back and forth, chimed in quietly. “Gray’s right. You should tell her, when you go home, just tell her how you’re feeling. And whatever happens, happens. We can just hope for the best.”
“You know you’ll be the first to hear from her if I do,” Natsu pointed out.
“I know. But… it’s time I come clean too.”
Natsu slumped back onto the couch and let out a depressed exhale. “And you,” he looked to Gray. “You know if it goes wrong I’ll be showing up at your door.”
“My couch has your name on it.”
“Gee, thanks.”
That had to be the longest drive home Natsu had ever taken, even though it was really just 10 minutes. He was a physical person by nature and never been very good at expressing his feelings in words. Words were his wife’s domain. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but his biggest fear was saying things wrong. With his hand on the doorknob, Natsu took one last breath and opened the door to her office. He knew before entering, Lucy was still working by the clacks of the keyboard and interrupting would immediately cause friction. But he couldn’t wait anymore.
“I’m home,” Natsu called out… with no response. He sighed and spoke more sternly. “Lucy. I’m home.”
“Oh, welcome home,” she finally responded. “How was the party?”
He knew it was an empty question, because she never even looked up or stopped typing and it meant she wasn’t really listening. “Lucy… we need to talk.”
“I’m kinda busy Natsu.”
“I know, but you’re always busy Lucy. That’s part of the problem.” The moment the last word came out, Natsu knew instantly he’d picked the wrong one. Crap.
Lucy stopped typing, turned off the screen and shut the laptop. “Problem?” She turned the chair around with her eyes narrowed in a focused glare. “What do you mean, problem?”
“Lucy,” he ran a hand down his face, “I don’t want to fight, but we need to talk— there’s a lot we need to talk about.”
“Like what?” She crossed her arms. “What is so important that you need to mess with my job?”
There it was.
“I’m not trying to do that,” he sighed. “You know how proud I am of your career. But, it feels as if you’re choosing your career over everything else in your life. Me, your friends, we’re all just being pushed aside—”
“Are you kidding me?!” Lucy shot out of her chair shaking in anger. “I am not doing any of that! I’m not pushing anyone away! Y-You’re the one who’s acting selfish trying to tell me I’m not giving you enough attention! And don’t you bring Levy into this! If this was bothering her she’d tell me!”
“It does bother her! But she’s afraid of getting,” he gestured with his hands up and down at Lucy, “this reaction! Is it selfish to want to spend some time with my own wife?!” Natsu growled. “We never spend time together anymore! You’re just always hunched over that damn computer!”
“I’m doing my job!” Lucy shrieked. “I have deadlines to meet! This story ain’t gonna write itself! Research ain’t gonna materialize on its own! It’s a lot of work!”
“Lucy,” Natsu pinched his brows together, trying hard to stop from snapping further as well as to control the tears building in his eyes. “I love you, more than anything in this world, but I don’t know what happened to the woman I’d married. The old Lucy wouldn’t abandon her loved ones like this.”
“You’re just mad because I’m successful now.”
“That’s bullshit! And you know it! No job is worth losing the people you care about, and if you can’t understand that, then, I don’t know what else to say!”
“Then I guess there isn’t anything more to say,” she spat back.
“I guess not.” Natsu answered softly, turned and left the room.
He’d already assumed confronting Lucy about her precious career would not end well, and he was right. Staying would only cause more trouble. So, he quietly packed a suitcase to go to Gray’s house, making sure to bring anything he’d need because he had no idea how long he’d stay there. He’d said his peace; it really was all in Lucy’s hands now.
Back in her office, Lucy dropped back down into her chair as the full weight of what just transpired hit her like a ton of bricks. She cradled her face in her hands as the anger that had fueled her response suddenly mixed with sadness. Tears flowed free. Did that really just happen?! She could hear Natsu moving around in the bedroom, the opening of drawers, the closet, the zipping sound of the suitcase, each and every step driving a knife deeper and deeper. How dare he tell her to stop writing! This was her dream! Her livelihood! Why couldn’t he just support her instead of acting like a child who wasn’t getting attention!
When she heard Natsu walking towards the front door area, Lucy raced out of the room to confront him one last time.
“Walk out that door and we’re through!” She screamed. “Do you hear me? We’re through!”
Natsu ignored her words knowing it was the anger talking… hoping it was just the emotions fueling her rage. “I’ll be at Gray’s,” he simply responded with a hint of sadness in his tone. “You should really think long and hard about this Lucy, because if not, you’ll lose a lot more than you realize.” And with that, he closed the front door behind him.
Lucy crumpled to the ground and wailed— raged, banging the floor with her fists as the sobbing overtook her. She truly could not understand what brought this on. Hadn’t she been a good wife?! Faithful! Hard working! What more did he want?! All she was doing was trying to make it in the cut-throat world of publishing. Does he not understand how hard it is to make it in that world?! She pulled her phone from her pocket and started to dial Levy’s phone number. But just as she got to the last two numbers, she stopped. It was already 1 am, and it would be rude to wake her friend up. Lucy sniffled and hung her head in shame before dragging herself back towards the bedroom. She’ll just call in the morning.
When Levy answered the phone, Lucy was slightly taken aback by the response. Not a hello, just a, ‘I wondered when you’d call.’ Evidently the woman was expecting it, but she was too tired to let it add to her problems. She hadn’t slept much after Natsu left— no surprise. She was still angry, but also confused, sad, and just mentally drained of life. Her friend agreed to come over in a bit, so Lucy dragged herself into the shower hoping it would make her feel better.
“Wow, you don’t look good,” Levy remarked at her friend.
“Hi to you too,” Lucy mumbled as she moved to the side to let her friend in. “Who would after a fight?”
Once settled on the couch, Levy went straight to the point before Lucy could even begin. “I already know what this is about. I know Natsu’s side, so start with yours.”
“Wow— okay, well—” Lucy pulled her legs up and tucked them underneath her body in a protective mode. “He tried to tell me to stop writing and I thought that was bullshit,” she said bluntly.
Levy’s brow raised. “Is that exactly what he said? To stop writing?”
“W-Well no, but that what he implied!”
“What did he say exactly?”
Lucy looked away, a scowl growing on her face and to hide the renewed moisture in her eyes. “He said I’m pushing everyone away.”
“And you don’t agree?”
“No! I’m not choosing my career over everyone! It’s ridiculous to even imply that I would!”
“Lu, do you still love your husband?”
“Of course, I love him!”
“Are you sure he knows you still love him?”
“I—” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and sunk further into the couch mumbling. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”
“I can tell you, he doesn’t. Lu, you’ve pushed all of us away.”
“So, you’re taking his side?!”
“No. I’m giving you reality. You’ve been wrapped up in your fictional world so much that you’ve forgotten this one and the real people in it.”
“I—” Lucy turned away to hide the tears slowly starting to trickle down her face. “I never meant to…”
“I know…” Levy placed a hand on her friends leg. “Lu, we all know. He knows, but he’s hurting and it’s in your power to fix this.”
“But how?! I can’t just stop writing. I have deadlines and— you know, its a lot of work to put a story together.”
“You have to find a balance. Right?” Levy coaxed. “You have to take breaks. You have to relax sometimes. Natsu’s not asking you to stop, and he knows there will be times you really can’t stop. But it can’t be all the time, and right now it’s all the time.”
“I know…”
“Girl when was the last time you…” Levy wiggled her brows and grinned. “You know.”
Lucy blushed. “Too long.”
“Well?!” Levy laughed. “Are you finally getting our point?”
“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “I got tunneled vision.”
Levy leaned in, adding pressured from the hand on Lucy’s leg and a softening in her voice. “And it put your marriage in jeopardy. But it’s not too late to fix it.”
The tears exploded from Lucy. “I told him… when he left, I-I told him don’t come back.” She buried her face in her hands as the sobbing took control. “I-I was screaming at him… so angry, I just lost it and—”
Levy pulled Lucy into a hug. “Shhh,” she held tight. “I’m sure he knew you didn’t mean it. Shh, it’s okay. Sometimes we say things we don’t mean when we’re mad. But you can still get him back, I’m certain of it.”
“H-how?!” Lucy sobbed into Levy’s shoulder. “He’s gotta be so mad at me!”
“Hun, Natsu’s more sad then mad. He needs to feel like you still love him.” Levy pulled away and cupped Lucy’s cheeks, staring, searching the woman’s eyes. “Can you tell him you love him?”
“I can tell him I love him,” Lucy sniffled.
“Then go tell him that!” She hugged her friend. “You’ll be okay Lu, you two are meant to last.”
“Thanks, Levy.”
“He’s at Gray’s right? Want me to drive you?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Levy smiled. “Now clean up a bit, I’ll wait in the car.”
The whole ride over to Gray’s house was the most nerve wracking experience in Lucy’s life. As she sat there huddled in Levy’s passenger seat, all the ways she could ever apologize tried to funnel through her head. She was a writer, and yet for the first time in a long time, all the words dried up or mashed together like a broken verse. Levy did her best to keep Lucy calm, reminding her that it’s all about being honest— just let your heart do the talking for once and not her head.
“You got this,” Levy patted Lucy’s shoulder before she exited the vehicle.
Lucy sure hoped she did. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Seconds ticked by and with each chime, all the weight and worry crept closer to sending her over. He was mad. Too mad. He probably won’t answer…
Finally someone did. “You came?” Natsu’s voice was soft and low, his eyes still bloodshot and worn.
“I came,” Lucy hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry— F-For everything, Natsu please come home, I miss you. I love you more than my job, and I’m gonna make it up to you.”
“You always say that Lucy…”
Ouch. Straight through her heart. The tears broke free again as her knees weakened, causing her to fall against him. Natsu caught her, and she clung to him, gripped to his shirt. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please come home! I love you! Natsu please come home! I can change! I promise I’ll change!”
That’s when she felt his hold truly tighten around her body and his head come to rest against her own. Lucy sobbed harder from the acceptance, pouring her heart in her words. “I love you… I love you so much, I’m so sorry….”
Natsu cradled her head and closed his eyes, voice soft with an upbeat to its tone. “Now there’s the woman I married.”
He held Lucy tightly until her sobbing slowed, eventually pulling away just enough to wipe the tear trails away. “Shall we go home now?”
Lucy nodded. “Please….”
#fairy tail#nalu#natsu dragneel#lucy heartfilia#nalu au#nalu fan fic#nalu ficlet#nalu fan fiction#angst#asks and answers
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... Morro
XD y'all really like your Morro, don't you? This is the second Morro request I've gotten (third technically, but there was an issue with the other one so it's not going to be filled) and the first one blew up XD, got way more notes than any fic I've posted before even though it was just a short little thing.
Since I already did a typical Morro fic, though, I decided to try something a little different with this one and tie it into the movie!verse. Hope you enjoy!
Spirit of the Deep
Summary: With Garmadon defeated for good, the ninja are eager to find another way to busy themselves. When Kai finds out about an ancient temple rumored to hold some sort of treasure, the others are immediately in.
Not all adventures are good, though. Before the ninja know it, they are in over their heads with a discovery they will never forget. (Movie!verse AU)
“It’s just through here!”
Kai’s voice rang through the temple, and Lloyd pushed his way through the vines, looking around carefully, his sword drawn. “Kai, not so loud. I don’t have a great feeling about this place.”
“Gee, I wonder why!” Jay squeaked from behind him. “I mean, look at this place!” He waved his hands at the crumbling stone walls, overgrown with weeds and vines. “Kai, what made you think it was a good idea to come here?”
“Oh, Jay, stop being such a coward. It’s going to be fun! There could be puzzles! Or booby traps! And most importantly, treasure!”
“You’re excited about booby traps?”
Lloyd stopped, holding up his flashlight to examine something on the wall. It looked to be an engraving of some sort, like a whirlwind, and below it, some sort of runes that Lloyd couldn’t read.
With a start, he realized the others were far ahead of him now, and he darted after them, desperate to keep up. “Guys! Don’t leave me alone like that! Are you forgetting I don’t have powers to protect myself like you guys do?”
“Fat lot of use powers will be when Kai and Jay inevitably trigger all the traps and the floor disappears beneath us,” Cole grumbled.
“Hey!” Kai yelped, at the same time Jay said, “Do you really think there are traps in here?”
Nya sighed. “If you’re so nervous, Jay, why did you even come with?”
“The rest of you guys were all going! I wasn’t going to be left behind!”
“There does not appear to be any signs of life,” Zane said. “I do not think anyone has been here for a long time.”
“What about traps? Can your sensors detect any traps?”
Zane frowned. “No. There seems to be some sort of interference with my signals.”
Kai suddenly stopped, the others bumping into him at the lack of warning.
“Kai?” Cole asked. “Why’d we stop?”
“There’s something in there.” Kai didn’t elaborate further, stepping over the rubble of the crumbled wall and disappearing from sight.
“Kai, wait!” Nya yelped, hurrying after him.
“So much for sticking together,” Lloyd grumbled as he followed the others into the room. “Seriously, one day this is going to-” he stopped short of walking right into Cole. “What is it?”
The earth ninja simply pointed, and Lloyd went slack.
In the middle of the room, there was a pedestal, intricate carvings in the side of it emitting a faint green glow. Atop it, a scroll was rolled up, the paper worn with age.
“What is that?” Nya breathed.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it one bit. Maybe we should just go-”
“Can it, Jay.” Cole grabbed the lightning ninja by the back of his shirt. “We didn’t come all this way for nothing.”
“What’s an old scroll doing all the way out here?” Lloyd asked. He reached for it, but Kai stopped him with a sharp yelp.
“Lloyd, don’t! I saw something like this in a movie once! This is a trap. When you take the scroll, the weight on the pressure plate will lift, and the whole place will come down around us! We need to find something that’s an equal weight to replace it with.”
Lloyd eyed the pedestal. “I don’t think…”
Nya sighed. “Kai, you’re confusing movies with reality.”
“I’m not! Trust me!”
“Fine.” Lloyd turned to the group. “Do we have anything?”
Cole pulled something out of his bag, holding it out to them. “I have a rock.”
They blinked at him. “Why do you have a rock?”
Cole shrugged. “Maybe I like rocks.”
Kai shook his head. “Okay, whatever. That should work.” Taking the rock from Cole, he positioned himself over the pedestal. He took a deep breath. “Here goes.”
In the blink of an eye, he had switched out the scroll for the rock. There was an ominous creaking sound, and they all held their breath, waiting. A few small stones clattered down from the roof, but other than that, nothing.
“We did it.” Unrolling the scroll, Kai’s relieved expression quickly changed to one of disappointment. “It’s just a bunch of symbols and gibberish.”
“Zane, do you think you can decipher it?” Lloyd asked.
Zane took the scroll from Kai. His brow furrowed. “This does not appear to match the dialect of any of the official Ninjago languages.”
“Lemme look at that.” Jay took the scroll from him, and Cole scowled at him.
“Be careful with it, nitwit! As far as we know, this is a priceless artifact!”
As the others squabbled over the scroll, Lloyd approached the pedestal. Now that he was closer, he could see that there was an engraving on the top that he had missed before.
A funnel, sort of like-
A whirlwind. It was that same symbol he had seen near the entrance.
“Hey, guys,” he called. “I think this may be important, I saw it earlier-” Reaching out, he let his fingers lightly brush the engraving. Suddenly, there was a bright flare of light, and a gust of wind that seemed to come from nowhere sent Lloyd hurtling across the room. He groaned, rubbing his head.
“Lloyd!” Suddenly the others were beside him, Kai gripping his arm so tightly his knuckles turned white. Lloyd waved him off. “Kai, don’t worry, I’m fine-” he stopped, realizing that the fire ninja was no longer looking at him.
Lloyd followed his gaze and froze.
Hovering over the pedestal was a young man with long black hair, a green streak running through it. His clothes were ripped and disheveled, and he was examining himself in awe.
Most noteworthy, though, was the fact that Lloyd could see right through his body.
The man looked up suddenly, spearing them with his gaze. “Who are you? Where am I? What happened to me?”
“Oh. Oh my gosh.” Jay gripped Lloyd’s arm. “I think we just awakened a ghost! Oh my gosh, Lloyd, what have you done?”
“What have I done? Kai’s the one who brought us here! Blame him!”
“Me? You’re the one who touched the pedestal after I clearly told you not to!”
“Well, maybe if you guys had listened to me about the symbol, I wouldn’t have!”
“The scroll distracted us! Blame Zane, he’s the one who couldn’t read it!”
“Me? Nya was the one who-”
“Enough!” a voice bellowed across the room, and they all froze, turning to look at the ghost. “I can’t believe a bunch of kids just released me from the dead. I can’t believe I’m dead!”
“We’re not kids!” Nya snapped. “We’re ninja.”
The ghost looked at her. “Right.”
“We are!”
“Um,” Lloyd swallowed. “Mr. Ghost, sir-”
The ghost rolled his eyes. “It’s Morro.”
“Okay, Morro- we could get in a lot of trouble if our master found out what we did. So, um… maybe you could consider… going back? To wherever you came from?”
“Are you kidding?” Morro laughed. “I was trapped in there for years! I’m never going back!”
“Uh, I think you are.” Kai stepped forward, igniting his fist. “Get back in! Or else!”
Morro’s eyes widened. “An elemental master. I’ll be damned.”
“And there’s more where that came from!” Nya shot a jet of water at him, and Morro shrieked, darting out of the way.
“Watch it! Didn’t anyone ever teach you that water kills ghosts?”
“To have a ghost roaming the city would be unwise.” Zane stepped forward, ice crackling between his fingers. “We have you surrounded. Please go back inside your pedestal.”
“Two can play at that game,” he muttered. As Zane blasted him with ice, a powerful gust of wind shot from Morro’s hands, repelling the ice.
Lloyd felt his jaw go slack. Suddenly, the whirlwind symbols made a lot more sense.
“You’re an elemental master, too?” Cole whispered.
“Got a problem with that?”
The others turned to look at him. “What do we do, Lloyd?”
Lloyd glanced back and forth between his team and Morro. “I have a feeling we’re not going to get rid of him. And… Master never told us about an elemental master of wind. He should probably know about this.”
“Alright.” Nya turned towards Morro. “We’re going to take you to our master. Cooperate, or else.”
Morro sighed. “It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice, do I? Fine, let’s go.” And, in a flash, he was sliding into Lloyd’s body.
Lloyd screamed, falling to the floor as the chill overtook him, the feeling of a foreign presence taking over his brain-
“Okay, okay kid, I’ll stop!”
Lloyd looked up to see Morro had left his body and was hovering over him, the others just behind, their expressions ranging from horrified to furious glares at Morro.
“Lloyd, are you okay?” Kai reached out, helping him to his feet.
“Geez, kid, you act like you’ve never been possessed before.”
Lloyd blinked at him. “I haven’t.”
Morro snorted. “Look, it’s not going to hurt you. I’m a ghost- I’m weak to water. The city has water everywhere- dripping from the roofs, pooling in the streets- the protection of a human body makes it far less likely that I’ll die on the way there. Besides, a ghost floating around isn’t exactly subtle, and… I have a feeling that attention isn’t exactly something we want.”
Lloyd exhaled slowly. “Fine. Do it.”
This time, he was prepared as the coldness numbed his body, although it still wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
The others looked at him anxiously. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Lloyd?” Nya asked.
“It’s fine, it’ll be over soon. Now come on, let’s go find my uncle and get some answers.”
Let’s hope this guy actually knows what’s going on.
It took Lloyd a moment to realize the thoughts were Morro’s, but he found himself thinking the same thing. If Master Wu couldn’t fix this… he didn’t know what he was going to do.
#....this feels like it should have a part two#I'm not saying it WILL#only that it feels unfinished#idk maybe i'll come back and write more later we'll see#it's not like i have any lore for it all though but it still could be cool#anyways#this was different!#interesting write i hope you liked it#ninjago#asks#anon#fic request#event#100 followers event#ficlet#my fic#rosie writes#movie!verse#tlnm#ninjago morro#the squad#requests open
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Shifted
Thomas decides to see what all the Side’s animal forms would be. It does not go so well for Anxiety.
This is set pre accepting anxiety, and diverges a little from the cannon of that episode, fair warning.
He is terrified. His heart is pounding as he pulls further back into the shadows, hiding under the couch. He can hear the others out there, talking, laughing, having fun. This isn’t fun.
“An owl? Really, Thomas, owls aren’t even actually smart, their eyes take up much of their cranial cavity.”
“Come on, kiddo, they are symbols of wisdom. And those wings sure must be nifty! I’m having a pawsome time myself!” A groan at the pun.
“I always thought Logan was a bit bird brained.” Roman mutters. “But seriously, a dragon? While the scales are quite flattering, it is a bit strange, considering I usually fight them.”
“I don’t know, Roman, I guess cause you’re always talking about questing I just settled on a fantasy creature. It is pretty cool." He rolls his eyes at the huff of pride he can hear as Roman no doubt puffs up his chest, flares his wings.
“Speaking of strange, where's anxiety?” his ears flatten against his head, pulse picking up again. They’re talking about him.
“He should be here. I did summon him.” Thomas, confused. He curses his inability to sink out in this form.
“Perhaps he has taken the form of a smaller animal and is hiding.” He almost hisses, could Logic shut up for once?
“Aw, maybe we should look for him! He’ll probably be so cute!”
“Please. That weirdo is probably a venomous spider or a little parasite. Who cares, where he is?” yes, thank you Roman, for once being not a moron.
“Patton, if you’re worried perhaps you can sniff him out. You are a cat, after all.” No. Nonono. Logic, shut it!
“Good idea, Logan. Give it a try!” and he is outta here before he even knows what he’s doing.
His terror skyrockets and he shoots out from under the couch to the startled yelps of everyone else. Everything is big, huge, compared to him, the living room seems endless.
The stairs, he just needs to get to the stairs and he'll be able to physically enter the mindscape, he’s so close-
Then there is the flap of wings, a victorious shriek, and talons are digging into his shoulders pinning him down.
“Well, what have we here?” He shoves aside his fear, proud as his voice comes out just as scathing and steady as ever.
“Get off, you overgrown lizard.” He bites out, Roman’s scaled head coming into view. He glares at Roman’s laughter.
“Anxiety, kiddo? Is that you?”
“No, its Joan, yes it’s me, Patton, now get off, Roman!” His heart is beating fast, too fast, and his words are wavering. He is afraid, afraid, afraid. He hates this, hates it, he just wants this to be over.
“Hmm. I don’t think I will. Think about it, Thomas. We have the opportunity here to get anxiety out of our way for good.” His stomach drops, his blood goes cold, he is shaking.
“Roman, what are you suggesting?” Logan, he can’t be considering this, please no, please!
“I mean, we don’t need to vanquish him. We can keep him like this. Put him in a cage, or something.”
“I'm not a pet, you idiot, and you can’t keep me like this forever.” He hisses out.
“Oh contraire, little mouse, we can keep you weak enough you don’t have any choice.” His heart lurches as he is lifted up, Roman's wings buffeting him, they are in the air.
“Roman, put me down! I… please! Pleasepleaseplease…” he is crying now, begging, because he can’t, this can’t be happening, they can’t actually intend to keep him locked in this form, weak and powerless, in a cage.
The floor seems so far away, and he feels sick, from the altitude shift or what is happening or both, he can’t tell. The anguished terror is filling him and he lets out a broken, choked sob.
This is what he gets, for thinking he could ever be accepted, for thinking he could ever be tolerated, much less liked. All he’d ever done was his job, and this is his reward.
“Logan, what-" he lets out a squeak despite himself as a blur of gray rams into Roman, sending him spiraling off balance.
Then he feels the talon’s grip slip, and he screams. He is falling, flipping through the air. From this height in this form his bones will break, shatter, with his luck his neck will snap. He has time to cry for help, before he impacts.
“Gotcha!” The halt is jarring, and he is shaking, instinctively flattening himself to make as small a target as possible as he tries to get ahold of himself. He realizes it’s soft, the ground.
He looks up and nearly screams again, instead flattening further. Patton has caught him, sitting on his back haunches, he is caught in Patton's front paws.
“p-p-put me d-down. Please.” His voice is a whisper, trembles making him stutter, but Patton instantly complies, much to his relief.
He hears a shriek and looks up, just in time to see silver talons coming right at him, then they crash into him and he feels a ripping pain in his shoulder.
He can hear Patton yelling, Logan screeching, Roman growling, and it is loud so loud and all he can think is he is about to die-
“Enough!” Thomas yells, and suddenly the ground isn’t so close, suddenly he is stumbling to his feet, lunging for his normal spot on the stairs, reaching it in two strides. He lets out a relieved sob as he clutches the bannister, looking back at the others.
Logan has landed in a heap on the couch. Patton and Roman are tangled around each other on the floor. Patton's gaze meets his, worried.
“kiddo, you’re bleeding.” He lifts his hand numbly to his shoulder, mildly surprised as it comes away sticky and red. He lets out a broken, bitter laugh.
“Gee, wonder how that happened. Not like someone was trying to kill me, or worse hold me captive and torture me for my whole existence." His voice is raw and instead of biting sarcasm, it comes out as an almost whisper, red rimmed eyes glaring at the floor as he shakes, from latent fear and pulsing anger.
“Anxiety-" he half successfully chokes back another sob, harsh laughter tearing at his lungs.
“no, know what, it’s fine. It’s fine, Thomas. I always knew I wasn’t wanted. I was an idiot to hope you might… might ever actually change, actually want me around. Hell, even care about me like I care about you and keeping you safe.” He can barely stand, he doesn’t know if it’s from the pain and blood loss or the adrenaline fading or the panic attack he can feel pressing against him, tightening his chest.
“Kiddo…” he shakes his head.
“Y'know, if you really wanted me dead, all you had to do was ask. I would’ve done it myself.” He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t see the pained shock on Patton's face, the suspicious surprise on Roman's, the horror on Logan’s. The pain on Thomas's. Instead, he flips up his hood, hugging himself as he wordlessly sinks out.
He managed to lock the door before he collapses to the floor. His chest feels like it's being squeezed by a boa constrictor, his ribs crushed and all the air shoved out of his lungs. His vision narrows to a dark pinprick, gaze unseeing as he sees Roman's talons again and again, falling and splattering against the floor, bones shattered, bars, a cage, closing in, pressing him tight, he can’t breathe, he’s choking, he’s dying, god, he’s going to die here. Why not? He laughs hysterically, that’s what they want, may as well give it to ‘em.
“virgil, no. It’s not what we all want. Come back to me, stormy. Focus on my voice. You can do it, Virgil.” Virgil. None of them know his name. Only, only…
“Dee?” he chokes out, blurry vision focusing enough to see Deceit, holding his hands in his lap, rubbing circles on his knuckles.
“There we are. Hello, dearest.” Deceit reaches up, softly wiping away his tears, brushing back his hair.
“I’m an idiot. I’m a stupid idiot.” He mutters.
“No. Virgil, you’re not. It’s ok.” He hisses in a breath of pain as Dee places a hand on his shoulder, vision going speckly at the slight contact. Dee pulls away, eyes wide, face darkening to fury.
“You’re hurt. Vee, you’re bleeding" he just shrugs, another sob clawing its way out of his throat.
“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. Deceit hisses, and pulls him onto his lap.
“It does. Even if they don’t care, even if they don’t love you, I do. It matters to me. You will always matter to me. You’re my baby, Virg. Even if you’ve left the nest, you’re still my little rain storm. Got it?” He feels Dee's extra arms removing his hoodie, then all six are cradling him against Dee's chest, holding him tight and safe and secure, letting him relax and melt into the touch, knowing Dee will never let anything hurt him. He feels Dee press a kiss to his head.
“you’ve wiped yourself out, love. I'll take care of that nasty shoulder gash. Get some sleep, dearest.” Weakly, he clings to Dee's shirt. He doesn’t want him to let go, he doesn’t feel safe, if Dee lets go.
“I’m staying, darling. I’ll stay as long as you want.”
“remus-"
“can rain down all the hell he wants. Until you’re better, they deserve it.” He finds he can’t argue with that. He falls asleep to Dee humming softly, stroking his forehead and holding his hand, his other arms working to gently bandage his shoulder.
Deceit sighs as he hears a crash. Looking up, he sees Remus kick in the door, eyes aflame.
“who hurt him? Who’s ass do I gotta beat until it falls off?”
“hush. I just got him settled.” Dee replies. In three strides, Remus is beside him, head cocked unnaturally far to the side, like a snapped neck.
“He’s ok?” Remus asks, neck snapping back to a normal position with an audible click.
“yes. Keep an eye on him, please?”
“What? Where're you going?” Remus asks. Deceit’s eyes flash.
“I am going to go see what exactly those half-witted buffoons did to send him spiraling. Then I am going to determine whom it is I need to beat the shit out of.” Deceit growled, stepping away from the bed.
“Boo, you never let me have any fun.” Remus pouts. He instantly stops as Virgil lets out a small sound, immediately climbing into the bed with him and spooning around him. Virgil curls against him immediately, stilling as he clings onto Remus.
“Thank you.” Deceit murmurs from the doorway. Remus nods.
“I'll take care of our little stormy night. You go teach ‘em a lesson, Dee.” Remus replies, relishing the sharp fanged smile Deceit flashes him, before sinking out. As an afterthought, he snaps, replacing the door, before turning his attention to Virgil, trying to mentally send him all of his love. Virgil is more of a brother to him than Roman has ever been, and he hates seeing him hurt.
“hang in there, vee. Dee'll fix everything.”
“I highly doubt he wants to be called right now.”
“But he was so scared! We have to help!”
“I don’t know Pat, seeing us might make it worse.” He clears his throat. He meets three sets of surprised eyes with steel. Thomas yelps and falls backwards, catching himself on the wall.
“Who is that?!”
“Deceit, you scurrilous snake, what are you doing here?” his eyes narrow at that.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Roman, was I not wanted here at this exact moment?” his voice is a perfect mimicry of Virgil's, and to his satisfaction it makes Roman flinch.
“Thomas. This is Deceit. He is responsible for the lies you tell not only others, but yourself. I am puzzled as to why you have appeared now. To my knowledge, no lies have been spoken.” Logan explains, and his hands ball into fists.
“Oh, truly, why ever would I be here? It'ssss not like Anxiety returned bloody and injured, in the midsssst of a panic attack, talking about how nobody wantssss him and it doessssn't matter. I’m sure that hassss nothing to do with it, Logic.” He hisses out, spitting Logan's title like it burns his tongue.
He can see Patton's guilty face out of the corner of his eye, knows whatever happened, it wasn’t him. But Roman… yes.
“So Thomas, dear, care to explain what happened?” He asks, sickly sweet, turning his gaze to Thomas, who has a slight frown on his face. As an afterthought, he notes that Thomas isn’t afraid of him, despite his scales and sharp fangs. Interesting.
“I thought it would be cool to see what everyone’s animal forms would be. Logan was an owl, Pat was a persian cat, and Roman was a dragon. But we didn’t see anxiety anywhere so we thought he was small and hiding and maybe too scared to move. Pat was gonna find him, then a mouse shot out from under the couch and Roman…” Thomas trails off, eyes shifting away, but it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.
“Roman. Care to continue?” Roman meets his ice cold gaze imperiously.
“gladly. I captured the fiend in my claws. Hurting him was an accident. I merely meant to catch him while he was small and couldn’t hurt us and contain him. Keep him small, so he’d stop bothering Thomas. It’s not like we need him, anyways.” Roman scoffs.
Rage is filling him. Because Roman truly thinks he is in the right, truly thinks he didn’t do anything wrong, and his voice is proud as he speaks about traumatizing Virgil, who is the youngest, the smallest, the most vulnerable to start with. How dare he?
Before he can think, he has crossed the room, he rears his hand back and slaps Roman hard enough to send him reeling backwards.
“You are a heartless, soulless bastard. I told him not to come, I told him he’d get hurt but he didn’t listen. You know why? It’s certainly not because he wants to be included, he doesn’t yearn for your acceptance, it doesn’t break him a little more each time you all dismiss and send him away unwanted. He definitely doesn’t just want to be liked! He never has a hard enough time just being himself, being afraid, all the fucking time, and you have certainly helped make him feel right at home.” He hisses, ignoring the tears stinging at his eyes as he whips around, facing the rest of them.
“And you’re no better. How do you think it feels, knowing the person who conjured you doesn’t even want you? How terrified would you be, surrounded by people who have never showed you kindness, who have admitted their distaste, small and defenseless, being threatened to be put in a cage? His worst fear is something happening to Thomas and being unable to reach him, to react and help. It’s his job to protect Thomas, and you were threatening to keep him away, to put Thomas’s own safety at risk for your own stupid biases! You were threatening to make his nightmare real, and not a single fucking one of you said otherwise, did you?!” He yells, slowly looking at each of them in turn. No one will meet his eyes now, not even Roman.
“you don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve his name. No wonder he hasn’t told you. You’re a bunch of ignorant bullies. And you’d say I’m the bad guy. You all picked out the most vulnerable and pounced.” He shifts his head, turning to Thomas, a curling, empty smile on his face.
“It was a fucking pleasure, Thomas. I’ll be taking my leave.” The lie is bitter and acrid on his tongue, tasting of ash as he sinks out.
He returns to Virgil's room, immediately hurrying to his bedside, because he is crying, despite Remus's attempts to soothe him.
“Vee, what’s wrong?” he asks. Virgil glares at him through his tears.
“you said you were gonna stay!” he lets out a soft breath, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I know. I just had to check on something. But you know Remus would never let anything hurt you, right?” Virgil nods, leaning back into Remus's arms.
“That’s right, starshine. You’re safe.” Remus whispers, rocking Virgil gently, who responds by pressing his face into Remus's chest.
“You’re staying now, right?” Virgil mumbles. He smiles, slipping under the covers.
“I am. No lies this time.” He murmurs as Virgil lays down, curling into him. He reaches out with all six arms, pulling Remus closer, hugging both of them and sandwiching Virgil in warmth and safety.
“What was it?” Remus asks lowly, once Virgil is out again. He sighs.
“Shapeshifting, animal forms. He was a mouse. Roman was a dragon. Threatened to keep him locked up. It got physical.”
“You mean Roman was a bitch and attacked Virgil unprovoked.” Remus's voice is flat, and he shoots him a soft look, one of his hands slipping into Remus's.
“I’m going to kill him.” He squeezes Remus's hand.
“Later. We can work on murder plans later. Right now Vee needs us.”
“Anxiety, it’s dinner time!” Patton's voice trills. He opens his eyes with a groan, freezing instantly.
This… isn’t his room. It isn’t even the commons. He’s laying in soft bedding. He realizes he’s in a little plastic hut. His heart speeds. He looks down at himself, human, good.
He flinches as the house is lifted up, leaving him exposed. His breath catches in his lungs, Patton is looming over him, he is giant. He skitters back, realizing his back is pressing against metal wire. Cage, he is in a cage, he is tiny, in a cage.
He scrambles, trying to claw his way out, trying to bend the wire enough to wriggle out.
“hey, now. None of that kiddo.” His stomach flips as hands squeaze around his waist and he is lifted into the air. He is barely as tall as Patton's ring finger, he is so high in the air as Patton places him down on his palm.
“patton please, please, just let me go, please!” he begs, feeling tears slipping down his face.
“Aw, I know kiddo. But this is better for everyone. This way you’re still around but don’t bother Thomas.” He stumbles as Patton places him back in the cage, doubling over and choking on sobs as a small food dish is placed inside, the shadows of bars shading his face.
He is still begging, pleading, screaming, for Patton, for anyone, to let him out, let him go, but he knows no one is coming, and the bars are pressing in, and soon there won’t be any more space, any more air.
“hush, stormy, shhh. It’s ok. It’s ok, lovely.” His eyes fly open, and he clings to Dee, feeling all of his arms cradling him tight as he sniffles into his shoulder, sobs shaking his thin frame.
“Just a dream, Vee." He feels Remus's hand on his, feels the terror and residual fear draining out of him as the nightmare is removed from his mind. The pros of dark creativity. Remus can steal other people’s bad thoughts, bad dreams, but then he experiences whatever the thoughts were. He hears Remus's sharp inhale as he sees it, feels his hand tighten it’s grip.
“thanks ree.” He manages, his voice hoarse and sore.
“Virgil, love, we should talk about it. I only got minor details from them.”
“what’s to say? They were going to keep me in a cage, they d-didn't want me.” Dee draws back a tad, looking down at Virgil's face, eyes hidden behind his bangs.
“did anyone help? Surely not all of them went along with this.” He shrugs, taking a deep breath.
“R-roman g-g-rabbed me in his talons and st-started flying. But he yelled… I think L-Logan tried to stop him. He was an o-o-owl. I think he rammed Roman and made him drop me. P-p-patton c-caught me. And… and he put me down, right away, when I asked. I… I don't think they woulda let Roman k-keep me.” He mumbles out, shaking. Dee feels his heart breaking, can feel the murder on Remus's face.
“That's good, Virge. They were trying to defend you.” Virgil shakes his head.
“but they didn’t. Only p-patton even cared I was h-hurt. Thomas… Thomas didn't say a-anything.”
“but he changed you back.” His brow creases as he looks out from Dee's arms at Remus's words. “if he agrees with Roman, he wouldn’t have changed you back.”
“He's right, lovely. Thomas doesn’t hate you. I know that. That is fact.” He sighs.
“Doesn’t feel like it right now.” He mumbles.
“I know. And that’s ok, Virge.” Dee kisses his head softly. He startles at a knock on the door.
“Remus, see who it is?”
“If it’s princey stab him for me.” Virgil mumbles, making Remus chuckle and ruffle his hair.
“Gladly, stormy.”
He throws open the door, leaning in the doorway with a cocky grin, teeth sharp and eyes glinting.
“Well, well, hello there Daddy. Have I been naughty?” he teases, moving to block Patton's view of the room.
“Remus… what… what are you doing here?” Patton asks nervously.
“Apparently playing the butler. Y'know, Patton, in the movies the butler is always guilty of murder.” He tilts his head slowly, relishing the fear that races across Patton's face. “Now, what are you doing here, daddio?” Patton fiddles with his sweater sleeves, a frown settling on his face.
“I just… I know he probably doesn’t want to see us right now, heck, maybe ever, and I don’t fault him for it. Today… today was bad. Really, really bad. I just want to make sure he's ok. And apologize. We… we chewed out Roman. His actions were unacceptable. Just… I would never let that happen. He’s not… he’s a person, and I don’t always agree with him, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to take away his voice or opinion. Can you just… pass that on, for me? Please?”
Remus looks back at the bed, softening as he sees Virgil uncurling from Dee, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, leaning against Dee, who has an arm around his shoulders. Virgil looks up at Dee, a silent question.
“No lies.” Dee murmurs, and Virgil bites his lip. “You wanna let him in?” He asks softly. Virgil hesitates, but nods.
“If he means it... yeah.” Virgil mumbles.
“He does. Remus, stop playing. V- Anxiety says he can come in.” He calls, catching himself before using Virgil’s actual name. Remus sighs, but steps aside.
“Well? Come in then.”
Hesitantly, Patton steps inside the dark room, taking in the soft, dark carpet, the dark to light purple gradient painted on the walls. There are also posters for bands carefully hung in frames, and a few posters for movies that Anxiety must like. He sees fairy lights strung across the ceiling that sparkle like stars without the main lights turned on.
He lets out a soft noise of hurt as he takes in Anxiety, knees pulled to his chest, his shoulders hunched. His eyeshadow is smeared all over his face, his eyes red and puffy. He glances at Deceit, not as surprised to see him here, tilting his head. Deceit nods minutely, and he sits down next to Anxiety, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him, to give him space.
“hey kiddo. How’s your shoulder?” He asks.
“better. Dee helped. It still... still hurts.” His voice is quiet and unsure and hoarse.
“Yeah. I think it would be pretty strange if it didn’t. I’m glad you’re going to be ok, though. Even if it hurts now, it’ll feel better eventually.”
“will it?” He is surprised as Patton pulls him into a hug, startled, but after a moment he leans into it, tucking his chin against Patton’s shoulder.
“I have never wanted you to die. I have never wanted you to leave. You’re one of my kiddos, kiddo, and that means I stand up for you when something hurts you, no matter who or what it is.”
“i’m scared. I hate... I hate being small... I hate... it’s so big, everything... I could drown, in a puddle, I could be crushed by a book, I could be stepped on, I could be crushed, I could get hurt and no one would know, no one would realize or find me. I could be caged...” He chokes out, fear flooding through him again. “I could be caged and my influence squashed, and then no one would protect Thomas, look out for dangers, keep him... keep him on task, keep him motivated to d-do better. I c-can't... trapped, and b-bars and it-it's too much... too small...” He is shaking again, on the edge of hysteria, but Patton is rocking him, holding him.
“Oh honey... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We didn’t know you were gonna be that little. I’m sorry we didn’t ask permission first, we weren’t thinking. I promise, promise,” he pulled back so Anxiety could see his eyes, tears spilling down his own cheeks, “that I will physically fight anyone who suggests we do that again, who even dares to mention putting you in a cage. I nearly did fight Roman, Logan had to hold me back.” That gets a weak laugh out of Anxiety, imagining Logan holding back a kicking and spitting furious Patton. “I love you, kiddo. I really, really do, and if anyone has a problem with that, has a problem with you, they’ll have to go through me first.” Patton’s voice is fierce, and he doesn’t have to look at Dee to know that he isn’t lying.
“T-thomas-”
“Is worried about you, kiddo. I came to check on you cause he wanted to make sure you were gonna be ok. What you said... really, really scared us, but we didn’t wanna summon you, because we knew you probably didn’t want to be summoned. He’s sorry, too. We all are.”
“Even Roman?” He asks, bitterness in his voice. Patton hesitates, sighing.
“I don’t know. I think... I think he’s sorry he got yelled at, sorry he got in trouble, sorry we didn’t agree with him. But I don’t think he’s sorry for what he actually did to you, said to you. Which makes me angry, because he should be sorry, but he isn’t, and if he isn’t, I can’t change that. What I can do is make sure you are going to be alright. I can learn what else we shouldn’t do without asking your permission. I can be better at speaking up when Roman threatens or takes jabs at you, and eventually, hopefully, his attitude will change as he learns none of us are going to enable him anymore. I’m sorry it went this far.” He blinks, surprised. He didn’t expect Patton to acknowledge Roman’s inability to see his own wrongdoings. He didn’t expect Patton to admit to his own shortcomings. He didn’t expect Patton to be... honest.
“What would you like us to do for now, Anxiety? Clearly, you have two people who love you very much helping your right now, so I feel ok leaving, if you like. I just didn’t want you to be alone, when you were so upset. Thomas... all of us, want to speak with you about what happened, to try and make ammends, but we’ll do that on your terms, so there’s no rush. Just, whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re ready to listen. If you like, I can bring you meals, if you don’t wanna leave your room for a while. I wanna keep you healthy, and I know if I leave you to your own devices it’ll be chips and soda for every meal.” He lets out a little snort at that, because Patton is right, of course, and he’s already calmed down so much because Patton is being so nice, and he knows Dee would have told him if Patton had lied.
“that all sounds good, yeah.” He mumbles, shifting out of Patton’s hug, pulling his knees to his chest once again.
“ok. Is there anything else you need, or would like me to do?” He bites his lip, thinking.
“Just... just let them know I’m ok? If they’re really that worried about me.” Patton squeezes his non injured shoulder once as he stands, smiling gently.
“Will do, kiddo. If you ever need anything, or just want some company, don’t be afraid to call me up.”
“I... might.” Patton smiles again, soft and warm.
“I love you, Anxiety.” Patton turns away, but before he sinks out, Virgil steels his courage.
“Virgil!” He shouts, and the room seems to freeze. Remus is staring at him in wide eyed surprise. Deceit has stopped rubbing his back, and Patton falters mid step, before turning to face him, something akin to awe on his face. “That’s... my name. My name is Virgil.” A huge smile blooms across Patton’s face, his eyes light up with tender joy, and he sniffles, wiping away tears.
“Virgil. I think that’s a lovely name, Virgil. I know I'm usually a blabber mouth, but it when it counts, I can keep a secret.” Patton winks, sending a smile flashing across his own face as warmth blooms in his chest. With a wave, Patton sinks out, and he collapses back against Deceit with a long, low sigh.
“You sure about that, Virg?” Remus asks, from where he’s leaning against the wall, having simply observed everything.
“yeah. Yeah I... think I am.” He feels Dee press another soft kiss to the top of his head.
“Proud of you, lovely.” He smiles, closing his eyes as he feels Remus settle on the other side of him. He is still scared and afraid and knows the nightmares won’t leave him alone for ages, now. But he also knows that at least Patton is on his side. And Patton is almost more of a mama bear than Deceit. If the two of them are looking out for him, he knows nothing will hurt him like this ever again.
#sanders sides#virgil sanders#roman sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders#thomas#deceit sanders#unsympathetic roman#mostly he's a dick#pre accepting anxiety#sympathetic dark sides#minor injury#virgil angst#platonic anxceitmus#hurt/comfort#Angst with a happy ending#shape shifting
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