#some of these gifts would imply more plot development than there has been in the past idk 20 years but also. fuck yeah
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I've just seen the first secret santa asks and some of you are being saurrrr mean 😭😭 some are funny also but hhsjdwhjwjek ANYWAY keep them comingg 🙏🙏🤲
#some of these gifts would imply more plot development than there has been in the past idk 20 years but also. fuck yeah#I'm also getting some ideas of things that could happen in my poor half abandoned fic so 👀
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ALSMP Fanfic: Wherever These Flowers May Grow Ch 1
Characters: goddess!PearlescentMoon, actual!angel!Sausage, starborne!Scott; reintroducing: floran!Scott and introducing: floran!Sausage; with special guest Empires SMP S2 Joel, and a cameo by Origins SMP CaptainSparklez
Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor
Tags: Canon Divergent, scosage, fluff
Warnings: Character Death (temporary as usual with this series), a tiny bit of angst
(Sequel to Echoing Through To You, When The Skies Cry, Until The Blood Moon Descends, and Then We’ll Rewrite the Stars)
Part Five of the Soul Liminality 2: I Would Die For You series.
(Also available on Ao3!)
Summary: Pearl sends Sausage and Scott on a mission to help out on another mortal world different from their old one. Scott finds himself returned to an old set of powers; Sausage gets new ones which, as it turns out, he has some trouble controlling. It’s not exactly a honeymoon trip, but they do meet a nice new godling while there.
[A/N: I missed writing these guys so here we are again! I guess you could say this completes the crossover between Afterlife and Empires that I implied with Pearl’s past in previous fics. | Shout out to Rendog for his amazing Gigaverse proposal, which I have implied a small bit here]
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Chapter One
The goddess PearlescentMoon tried to hide a yawn. Summits that required all deities of the universe to attend always ended up being tedious. There was inevitably someone who took up the allotted time for each session by going off on a tangent. Today was supposed to be the forum for making requests if anyone needed another god’s particular specialty. She had already answered a few asking for aid in developing farmlands and crop maintenance knowledge on the respective mortal worlds that they oversaw.
Currently someone was ranting about the distribution of stone types, which wasn’t in her portfolio so she tuned out and instead started making a mental list of which angels she would send to help out with the requests she had accepted so far. A different voice loudly cleared their throat. “Since we’re now almost out of time, I need to quickly ask – I have a world that needs revitalizing in far more areas than I can manage at the moment. If anyone has help they can spare who has knowledge of the care of flora and can be responsible about what will actually grow in particular climates, that would be appreciated. Right now, the helper my nature underling has is someone who thinks roses bloom when spring is still six weeks away and believes poinsettias will grow in snow.”
Pearl perked up with a smile. “Say no more. I have just the guy. And his husband.”
~*~
The new farmhouse that Sausage and Scott had been building together was coming along nicely. The atmosphere in Pearl’s realm was decidedly different from Heaven’s Reach, with flat farmlands all around their little private plot and a bit too much of the same range of colors with the purposeful arrangement of crop types in neat squares, but they made the most of it. They had their own personal garden full of silvery-white angelflowers and a contrasting dark blue flower with gold flecks on the petals: starflowers, as Pearl had named them, and had been her wedding gift to them.
They had thanked her and promptly planted them everywhere. At dusk the flowers would begin to release specks of glowing pollen, filling the air with bright motes, which was a sight they would sometimes sit to enjoy before Scott went off to tend to the distribution of stars across the mortal realms, ensuring there were enough of them visible to guide travelers and inspire creative souls.
Over the course of nine lives their fates became intertwined, and on the tenth life they found each other again beyond the mortal world. From angel Sausage began and to angel he returned, but with his rise from guardian to seraph he also had to return to the celestial realm, leaving Scott behind. Eventually Scott crossed into his final life, yet gained the form of starborne, allowing him to ascend to that plane as well and reunite. They found peace together once again, with only a few daily jobs to interfere.
Aside from general seraph duties, Sausage had once again taken up the mantle of architect of the realm, designing and building newer versions of structures that could be passed on to Pearl’s mortal followers. As such, the house had ended up a little cluttered with drafting supplies and building materials, since Sausage hadn’t yet made an actual storage place for himself. This led to there being times when they had to navigate around stacks of crates simply to get in and out of the door.
One morning, Sausage was in the process of trying to get things in order when Scott arrived home. The simple reverberation from the door was enough to send the overly tall stack beside it tumbling. Sausage’s reflex was to jump toward Scott to push him out of the way, but the starborne casually put up a hand and froze the boxes in mid-air with a change of gravity; with his other hand he stopped Sausage’s momentum, then he gave the seraph a little smile.
Sausage laughed awkwardly as he found his feet, folding his wings back in. “Oh, right, I don’t have to protect you as much anymore.”
“I don’t think that’s an instinct you will lose anytime soon,” Scott said with amusement. He reached for one of the falling boxes, plucking it from the frozen gravity and placing it in a new spot on the floor. He removed the rest the same way until there was less danger, then returned the gravity in that spot back to normal. His control over it was different from a gravital, but there were enough similarities that he had taken some of Sausage’s advice on a few tricks. “Although maybe one of these times you’ll remember that I can protect you, too.”
“I can think of a few times you saved my feathers. Remember that really bad storm?”
“How could I forget? Being cut off from daylight for that long was almost as tiring as winter. I still think it was crazy to try flying in that.”
“Hey, I was just trying to get home! I didn’t expect it to get that windy so fast! I still made it safely, though, right?”
“Sausage, just because you don’t need your other wings for flying doesn’t mean damaging only one of them counts as being ‘safe’.”
“Listen. Listen. That tree came out of nowhere. The wind threw it at me! It’s not like I thought to myself ‘Sausage, maybe you should rest for half a second. Two minutes. What do birds do in storms? They take cover under leaves. Or something. So, I just need to, like, perch somewhere for a teeny tiny bit, then get back to flying.’ Then, bam, big ol’ tree trunk hit me!”
“I know you told me this before, but I still do not believe an entire tree was uprooted and flung into your path. I had flowers panicking all around me, but they stayed in the ground.”
“That’s the thing! You weren’t there! And the wind is much worse higher up, those air currents get really crazy!”
“Boy, have I got news for you about the upper atmosphere,” Scott teased. “Anyway, how about we get back to the present and start doing something to clean this up? Why don’t we make that today’s project – before we run out of space in here?” He smiled and hefted the box he had recently put down. “You have a dozen storage building designs. Pick one, and we’ll make changes later if you decide you want it to look different.”
Sausage was about to agree when a voice called from the still-open door, “Knock-knock! How are my favorite seraph and shooting star doing today?” Pearl leaned over to smile through the doorway, maintaining her godly extra height. “You’ll forgive me if I decline an invitation to come in. Even if the ceiling was higher…” She swept a glance around at all the crates.
“I’ll make the storage building tall enough for you, Pearl!” Sausage offered brightly. Adoration shined in his eyes as he looked at her, a different kind of fondness than what he held in his heart for Scott. “But I’m guessing you didn’t stop by just to look at this mess, and, uh, I guess that also means no home projects for me today.” He glanced at Scott, and the starborne looked around with resignation as he set down the box. “You can always surprise me with a building you want to design, and I’ll help move everything into it later. Okay, Pearl, let me know what you need me to do!”
“Actually, I need both of you. Come outside and we’ll talk about it.”
The two traded glances. Pearl had no authority over what a starborne did, so it was up to Scott if he wanted to help her with something, but they did both follow her off the porch into the yard to hear her out.
“To keep this short, one of the overseer-type gods at the summit needs help with terraforming, and was asking for anyone with good plant care knowledge. I figured you two fit that perfectly, and since you have that little habit of not going anywhere without each other, I wanted to ask if you would go together. I even know someone who can fill in for you, Scott, for a little while. He’s a young prince named Sparklez. You might even be able to keep an eye on him from where you’ll be, and maybe send up a signal if you think he needs a guiding hand.”
Scott mulled that over. “Well, there were other starborne before me in this region, it makes sense for another to also learn it. Where is this planet?”
“Same MC-M-JAVA region and YT-MC-SMP galaxy, but different solar system than where you were from. It’s a really small one, with only a sun and a single planet, if that helps,” she replied.
“Hmm. I might have gone near that one at least once that I can remember. It, ah, had a lot going on that clouded the atmosphere. I don’t know if it was only volcanoes at the time or something else. They were rather red-looking clouds.”
“There was some upheaval in its past as I recall. That would explain the need for extra environmental help, actually,” Pearl commented. There was something else in her voice, but whatever it was, she hid the emotion behind a smile.
“It doesn’t need star-seeding, does it?”
“No, it’s inhabited, but obviously the mortals currently there are limited by resource stability.”
Scott asked a few other questions, and meanwhile Sausage was glancing back and forth between them in utter confusion. Finally, he yelled, “What the HECK are you two talking about??”
Pearl gave a short, light laugh. “Sorry. Let’s go back to the terraforming part. Do what you do best. Fix up some soil, get some plants to grow, make things look pretty, and come on home when you’re done. It might be a bit longer term than your other missions have been, but you’ll be together. Just try not to influence the locals too much. Other gods have a presence there, but they don’t need to know one of my angels is there, too.”
“We can manage that,” Sausage said with a nod. “When do you want us to go?”
“Any time.” Pearl raised her hands, golden light flickering around her fingers. “I can send you right now, if you don’t have to settle anything else first.”
Sausage thought for a moment, then took Scott’s hand and pulled him close to kiss him, then released him. “All right, all ready!”
The starborne laughed then nodded. “Yeah, I think that covered everything for now.”
“All right, on your way. I’ll come find you to bring you back here when you’re done.” Pearl held out her hands and stepped forward, placing one on each’s head. “Thank you. I know you’ll do great things.”
At her touch, Scott’s body took on the violet glow of his star form, turning bright and indistinct. Sausage became a silvery-white flame, then they shot upward into the sky, guided by godly magic out of the celestial plane toward their destination.
~*~
Scott wondered too late if he should have held on to Sausage’s hand. He didn’t know if the other had experienced planetfall in the same manner as a starborne would, back on the world where they had met, but he also figured Sausage had his wings to make the descent easier. He himself was, predictably, plummeting like a rock, but he had already positioned himself feet-first to make a proper starborne landing. He was more focused on that than making other observations, so he didn’t take in much about his surroundings – including that sunlight wasn’t having a negative effect on him – before he made impact at the edge of a gravel pit.
He caused a modest crater, sending bits of gravel flying in a directional spray; normally his first concern would be to put out any resulting fires before they could spread, but he was instantly distracted by a sensation running through the ground and up into a former part of his brain that had once understood those signals. It wasn’t meteor fragments.
He could hear the plants. Scott looked down in a panic, wondering if he had landed on something important connected to the flora, then gave a start. His own appearance was on the green side, his black and violet gradients replaced with verdant and brown, from hands to bare feet right down to his clothes, the gossamer sleeves now a shimmering pale green. His overcoat still had some glints of gold, although his belt was now made of assorted types of tree leaves, which also decorated the bottom of his coat. He raised a hand to his hair and could feel the soft petals of a flower crown. He suspected his eyes would now be a bright, spring green.
He was a floran again.
“But… why...?” he asked of the empty air.
Pearl had said they needed to do terraforming, and tend plants for a while… so maybe it made sense to return him to being a floran. He would handle the plants, and Sausage the terraforming…
Yet there was a problem.
“Wait, how am I supposed to signal that Prince Sparklez like this?!”
There was still no answer, including nothing from Sausage. He needed to go find him before trying to decide on the rest. He sent out a query through the roots he could feel under the ground. Has anyone noticed a humanoid flying around, like a bird with six wings? He received a mixed chorus of confusion and negative responses. He figured he would have to pick a direction and start walking, but then he felt the rapid growth of roots nearby, and he turned around in time to see a small sunflower sprout. Another appeared a short distance away, leading into the underbrush of the sparse forest at the edge of all the gravel.
He began to follow them as they popped up one by one. It seemed Pearl could still assist them in some way. He did another check with the plants for anything they thought might seem dangerous, then started calling, “Sausage! Sau-sage! Can you hear me?” If he was on top of the trees somewhere he might see Scott wandering around, but letting him know he was there wouldn’t hurt.
However, it was near ground level that he finally heard the seraph answer, albeit muffled and weary-sounding. “Scott…? Over here…”
The voice came from within a thick patch of overgrowth, where some small trees and reeds had managed to cluster together, while large tropical foliage and tall grass made it so Scott had to ask them to part so he could make his way through. He figured from how Sausage sounded that his wings had gotten tangled in everything going on in there. It seemed a little weird how fresh the growth appeared compared to where Scott had just come from, but he chalked it up to the quirkiness of whoever had been handling the revitalization before they had arrived.
Scott then felt his foot slip down an unexpected incline. He looked around more carefully and noticed – despite the covering of grass – that the incline curved around. This… was the crater where Sausage must have landed, but… how was it full of plants, and not wrecked like the area around his own landing?
“Scott? I need a hand, please.”
Snapping out of his ponderings, Scott turned to where he definitely heard the voice, and now waved a hand to make even more of the plants bow to one side or the other, hoping that would help free Sausage’s wings in the process. He heard an “Oof!” in response and saw… not silvery white moving beyond the next cluster of trees, but red and orange. Concerned, he hurried around one of them and then stopped short to stare.
Where Scott had general forest-themed coloring now, Sausage had the bright colors of incoming autumn. Armor and robes gone, he was now shirtless with a leather-like vest made of red oak leaves, while a different set of leaves layered over each other in a cascade formed his customary pauldron and arm guard. He had short, dark red trousers that exposed his lower legs, which, like his arms, had the same green dappling as Scott’s skin. Although he also had a flower crown, in place of his halo was a small wreath of interwoven twigs. The scar over his eye was now in the shape of a small swirling vine, curling off into the side of his hairline and down to his beard, which was dotted with tiny flowers. His wings were gone, too, but from over his shoulders, where the wispy wing root feathers would have been, were tufts of autumn fern fronds.
Sausage was similarly stunned to see Scott’s new appearance, and they ended up staring at each other for a moment. “You’re a—”
“—Floran—”
“—Again.”
“—Too.”
They laughed.
Scott offered a sympathetic look afterward. “Your wings… Are you feeling okay without them?”
“Well…” Sausage turned to let Scott get a better look at the fern fronds, with one bunch sticking out of the collar of his vest and another hanging out from underneath the bottom of it. He turned toward him again with a small shrug. “These kind of itch a little but they’re kind of soft at the same time? Like, they’re the best that whatever this transformation is could come with to replace feathers? You know, when Pearl said we’d be helping with plants, this isn’t—” At that moment one of the tropical foliage plants abruptly sprung up between them, smacking him in the face and startling him so much he fell backward, having lost sense of his center of gravity without his wings.
“Rude,” Scott scolded it. He stepped around it to reach for Sausage’s hand to help him up. As their fingers touched, an angelflower bloomed in Sausage’s hair above his ear, while a starflower bloomed in Scott’s. They shared another smile before Scott pulled him back to his feet. “Well, I have to say, you do make for a very handsome floran. And things will be easier if we don’t have to dig or till soil. We can have roots make channels to reroute water flow where needed.”
“Okay, well, you tell me what to do and I’ll figure out how to make these powers work! Not really a new concept for us, after all.” Sausage grinned, and they made their way out of his landing site to the sparser area beyond.
Yet, as soon as Sausage stepped out onto the bare ground, a flurry of ferns and taller grass sprouted out from under his foot, spreading in diameter. The same happened with his next step. “Uh, these powers sure are working. How come it isn’t happening when you walk?” He looked around at the distinct lack of extra footprint-patterned plant growth.
Curious about the phenomena, Scott took a few steps before thinking at the grass to have it grow beneath him. It started to lengthen, but stopped the moment he told it to. Meanwhile, as Sausage walked a meter along, the greenery kept sprouting up. “Well,” Scott reasoned, “You were the most powerful tier of angel. I guess that means you became a powerful floran. Huh! That explains why all this is here, while I only made a hole in the ground when I landed.”
“But don’t you have to think and focus on your powers to make them work? I’m not doing this on purpose! It’s just happening!”
Even as they stood there, four tree saplings and a burst of tropical foliage sprang up behind him.
“Okay, I can see how this might become a problem,” Scott admitted. “Alright, so, if I have to think about what I want plants to do, maybe you need to do the opposite? Think about it not happening?”
“But I wasn’t thinking of either thing!”
“Just try it.”
Sausage made a doubtful face but looked down as he lifted a foot to take one step. “There is nothing growing out of the ground. This is bare dirt.” He cautiously put his foot down. For half a second nothing happened, and he started to look relieved, but then a smattering of grass sprouts appeared and then spread. “Oh-kay, maybe I just need to practice.” He sighed and walked toward Scott, more greenery forming in his wake.
“Next thing to do is find a barren place,” Scott decided, “Where the land needs the help anyway. Providing that the sun moves the same way as our old world, we should have plenty of time to start exploring and find a spot. We might have to spend the night in a tree to keep you from touching the ground, or else we’ll wake up trapped in a gardener’s nightmare, judging by the rate stuff grows around you.” He looked toward Sausage’s landing site.
“Right. Um. I’m really missing my wings now, because, uh, if I could fly, I wouldn’t have to touch the ground at all.” Sausage twitched his shoulders, moving the fern fronds to not much effect.
“Well, we have to work with what we’ve got for now.” Scott gave him a reassuring smile, then took his hand as they headed off to see what else was out in this new world. He made an attempt to ask the plants to not grow too out of hand despite the former angel’s power flowing into them, but he wasn’t sure it was working. At least if they kept moving there was less chance of anything going completely overboard.
~*~
“Oh, there’s the ‘hired help’,” proclaimed Adelfa disdainfully, crossing their arms over their long chiton and tapping a sandaled foot in annoyance before giving a shake of the vine-like laurel leaves cascading from their head. They stood upon a cloud overlooking the area where the two florans had arrived. “You know, when I told this planet’s overseer that this job was going to be big and I needed an additional competent hand, I wasn’t expecting such a show off. Look at that one. Stuff everywhere he wanders to. But I guess at least it’s native plants.”
Beside them, the recently created godling wearing a shorter chiton and sporting a green streak in his dark hair as a sign of having been split from the nature god themself, leaned over the side of the cloud as if to get a better look. He could create clouds, so he had no worry of falling. “I don’t know, they look harmless to me. They’re like having more nature sprites, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but I didn’t make them that.”
“Yeah, I know, or you would have already done it. We said that before, when we were complaining about how much work we have to do, and then we made me.”
“Look, Joel, just because you were part of my essence up until a week ago doesn’t mean you get to be a smarty pants. You’re an independent power now. Go do your job and cause a rainstorm over their heads.”
“A second ago you said I was independent! Doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want?” He grinned cheekily.
“You’re still part of nature! I can’t be bothered with the weather anymore, but I’m still in charge!”
“Fine. But I don’t see the point in bothering them right away. They just got here.”
Adelfa sighed in exasperation. “Then keep an eye on them for now. I have things to do, but don’t forget that storm over the new archipelago. There are too many islands in that thing, we need to flood some of them under before any mortals move in there.”
“Right, right, got it. I’ll remember.” Joel rolled his eyes as he split off a portion of the cloud to subtly follow after the newcomers. He was curious about them and where they had come from, but he didn’t really feel like asking the other gods if they knew more; they were currently tolerating his existence. Not everyone was fond of one of their number up and separating out bits of their power into extra gods without consulting everyone else first. Having such a large dominion over aspects of the world, Adelfa was egotistical enough to have done so. He didn’t see how that was his fault, however.
~*~
Scott and Sausage crossed into a jungle where they soon needed to climb over some overgrown rubble that pointed to a civilization having been there at one time. Sausage stood on top of a low wall to see if hand-hewn stone would slow down his powers. Instead of new growth, he caused the existing moss and grass that had taken root in the cracks to spread. One corner of a block even crumbled off as those roots expanded. He grimaced and hopped down before he accidentally destroyed anything else.
“I don’t think anyone is going to notice,” Scott commented.
“You did!”
“Because I can feel what’s growing and know exactly what’s happening.”
“Well, I still want to get this under control before we run into any standing villages. Pearl did say this world is inhabited. We’ll see them eventually.”
“We’ll avoid them for now and keep going until we find an empty place. Although, we might have to stop here for the night, anyway, since there are plenty of trees around.” Scott craned his neck to look up at the canopy high overhead. “Hmm. Hold on. I have an idea.” He called down a couple of large vines from the nearest tree, directing them to wrap securely around his and Sausage’s torsos then had them lift the two of them up so they could get on top of the tree with the intention of getting a better view of the surrounding land.
To Sausage’s relief there was no crazy new burst of leaves when the vine set him down. Not having his wings for balance – or an assurance against falling – he crouched down to keep himself steadier. From there he could see the scarred land beyond the jungle, which might take them until past nightfall to reach. “Those are some impressive chasms. And looks like a lot of lava could be down there with the way they’re glowing. I guess we could start there and fix up the spots around them.”
“No, let’s stay away from anything that could be dangerous. Keep in mind we don’t know the rules of this world. If something happens, we might revive as something different, or not at all. I didn’t think to ask Pearl about that.” Scott grimaced.
“Oh… That’s a very good point, thank you for putting that in my head, I am now officially terrified of falling out of this tree.”
“Maybe we should assume we’re under divine protection and are immortal, since a god did send us here.” Scott gave a weak smile and waved one of the vines back over to create a tether around Sausage’s waist. “There you go.”
“Perfect, that solves the problem completely, nothing else could possibly go wrong.”
Scott returned to considering the view around them. “Let’s go a different way for now…” He could see part of another type of forest that blended with one side of the jungle, then he continued to turn and saw a washed-out sliver of land along the horizon. “We’ll go that way in the morning. Could be a desert. Aside from some cactus, your power might be limited there, and we can work on you getting a handle on it.”
“Great plan. Now, can I ask if we could sleep closer to the ground?”
“Of course. I didn’t intend to stay all the way up here. I’m sorry if this is a lot for you… My old floran instincts kicked back in so I’ve been going right along with it this whole time.” He gently patted Sausage’s arm. “We have a little more time to walk, too, before we climb another tree, if that will help you feel a little better. We only need to pick a spot before sunset. I’m not sure how fast ‘night-mode’ will hit you.”
When the vines lowered them to the ground, Sausage sighed in relief, now less bothered by the grass that immediately raised up beneath and around his feet. “It’s not your fault, by the way. I’m having moments where I forget, for just a second, that I don’t have wings. Y’know, like – I had a thought up there that I could go scout around, find the best place to start in, carry you over so we could get there faster – then remembered, ‘Oh, right. Can’t fly’.”
Scott patted his arm again. “You’ll get them back when we go home. You know what thought I keep having? ‘How am I supposed to signal that Sparklez fellow if I don’t have my star powers!’ All I can really do is hope he can figure things out. You would think a prince would have that as some kind of royal training. I didn’t even know there was a prince of the starborne. Not that I’ve talked to a lot of others. I just know they’re out there. I picked up on it later – since the most important thing to me when I first changed was figuring out where I was, so I could figure out how to get to you.”
Sausage smiled warmly at him. They set off in the direction of what Scott was still guessing was a desert, making the most of what was left of the afternoon.
When it came into better view through the last line of jungle trees, Scott raised an intrigued eyebrow. “A mesa. Even better. If we go far enough out, your powers won’t even reach these plants to make them spread. For now, though…” He gestured to one of the shorter trees that had branches closer to the ground. “That one should do. I can make the vines create a hammock, if that works?”
“I like that idea. Feels safer. Okay, one more question. What about food? I haven’t actually felt hungry all this time, but I remember us keeping bottles of honey on hand before.”
“The sunlight feeds us the majority of the time. Honey is like a little boost, or if it’s cloudy, or the days are shorter.”
“Oh. Uh, oh. Um. I hope we’re done with this before winter.”
“I get the feeling we won’t have to worry about that. Doesn’t seem like anywhere near to even autumn to me. The seasons could even be wonky here, and maybe there’s no winter at all.”
“Are you only saying that to make me feel better?”
“Possibly. Come on, let’s get settled in.”
.
Once the hammock was in place, the two got cozy to watch the sky darken together. Sausage kept wiggling around a little, not used to laying on his back without having to mind his wings. “I just realized how long it’s been since I’ve needed sleep. Taking naps was just kind of a nice thing to pass the time. This is going to feel weird when the sun is all the way down.”
“That’s a good point. Starborne can’t even sleep at night. We’re in automatically-awake mode.”
Sausage gazed around at the dots of light that were beginning to appear between the leaves of the tree. “I guess you’ll miss being up out there as much as I already miss flying.”
“I was trying not to think about it, but you’re right.” Scott then yawned. “Either way, time to make like the day-bloomers and curl up for the night.” He leaned his head against Sausage’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
“You’re not going to worry about keeping a watch out for Sparklez?”
“Nah. We had a long day. He’s on his own right now.” He yawned again. “We have our own things to worry about. It’s not like he can mess things up that badly…”
[ Chapter Two ]
#alsmp#alsmp fanfic#alsmpshipping#scosage#pearlescentmoon#mythicalsausage#scott smajor#dangthatsalongname#joel smallishbeans#actual!angel!sausage#starborne!scott#goddess!pearlescentmoon#soul liminality 2#lunar yarns
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The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy. By Megan Bannen. Orbit, 2022.
Rating: 2/5 stars
Genre: fantasy romance
Series: N/A
Summary: Hart is a marshal, tasked with patrolling the strange and magical wilds of Tanria. It’s an unforgiving job, and Hart’s got nothing but time to ponder his loneliness.
Mercy never has a moment to herself. She’s been single-handedly keeping Birdsall & Son Undertakers afloat in defiance of sullen jerks like Hart, who seems to have a gift for showing up right when her patience is thinnest.
After yet another exasperating run-in with Mercy, Hart finds himself penning a letter addressed simply to “A Friend”. Much to his surprise, an anonymous letter comes back in return, and a tentative friendship is born.
If only Hart knew he’s been baring his soul to the person who infuriates him most – Mercy. As the dangers from Tanria grow closer, so do the unlikely correspondents. But can their blossoming romance survive the fated discovery that their pen pals are their worst nightmares – each other?
***Full review below.***
CONTENT WARNINGS: descriptions of corpses, violence, explicit sexual content
OVERVIEW: I stumbled upon a glowing review of this book over at Smart Bitches, Trashy Books. The premise was intriguing, and I was in the mood for something macabre, so I picked it up. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy this book as much as I wanted to. The fantasy setting didn't enrich the romance plot and I think it went on overlong. If you like fluffy, cozy romances, you might have a better time. But I can only rate this 2 stars.
WRITING: Bannen's prose is fine. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it either. It's that easy-going style that one can whip through quickly and had a tendency to tell over show, but it flows nicely so it's easy to get through.
I will say, though, that a lot of the humor is just not for me. Most of the funny moments are very millennial, so I don't think it will hold up over time and may, in fact, feel young to a lot of readers.
PLOT: The plot of this book follows Mercy and Hart, an undertaker and a marshall who dislike each other but find themselves falling in love while writing anonymous letters back and forth (they don't realize they are writing to the other). At the same time, Mercy struggles to keep her family's undertaking business alive while Hart is tasked with training a new apprentice.
What makes this story both interesting and frustrating is that it's set in a fantasy world that seems somewhat urban but also builds its own history and lore. Some aspects of the worldbuilding were interesting, but on the whole, I found it to be rather distracting. Parts of the world didn't make much sense (there's same-sex marriage and women in male-dominated positions, but undertakers are only men for some reason) and concepts that could have been simplified were overcomplictaed. I also struggled to understand how they could have some things that implied an industrial revolution (they have motorized vehicles) yet haven't figured out things like email, and the vibe sometimes seemed more modern and other times more Victorian or even 1950s. Personally, I think this plot would have worked better in a historical setting or a contemporary one, but if it had to be a fantasy, I think urban fantasy would have worked better than what we got.
Moreover, I felt like this book was more focused on the low-stakes, cutesy, day-to-day shenanigans that it was on meaningfully developing the romance. While I can do a light, fluffy romance, I wasn't sure if that was what the author was going for, nor were the romance and non-romance complimentary.
CHARACTERS: Mercy, our heroine, is sympathetic in that she's trying to keep her family's business afloat while also keeping a lot of family secrets. I liked that she was devoted to her job and wished to see every corpse treated with respect, and I liked that she struggled with figuring out what she wanted out of life.
Hart, our hero, is fine but a little less interesting. We're told that he's a loner and that he and Mercy don't get along, but we're not really shown those things. As a result, Hart comes across like someone who inte totally keeps people at arm's length, and especially after he starts to bond with his apprentice, it's not clear what he gets out of his relationship with Mercy.
Side characters are fine, but most of them are young, so the general vibe of the book feels like it skews towards high school. For example, Mercy's brother, Zeddie, and his boyfriend, Pen, tease Mercy in a juvenile way. The sister, Lil, uses expressions that feel young. It just made the whole book feel unserious and emotionally arrested.
Romance: Personally, I found the romance between Hart and Mercy to be a little lackluster. For one thing, they start out attracted to one another, so it didn't feel like they were developing from mutual dislike to love, nor it make their letters back and forth more impactful. Moreover, they didn't so much loathe each other as they did exchange quips. I think it would have been better if they truly had a clash of personality (or Hart's beliefs about undertakers got in the way) rather than taking verbal swipes at one another but harboring fantasies about each other's bodies.
TL;DR: The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy might be a fun read if you like lighter romances, but personally, I struggled with the fantasy setting, the humor, and the lackluster love story.
On top of that, the development of Mercy and Hart's relationship didn't feel designed for 30-something year olds. We're told that both characters are north of 30, but a lot of how they are drawn together (changing notes, people teasing term, being mean as a way to show they like you) feels very jeuvenile.
I personally like romances where the character development matches the development of the relationship, so I was also disappointed that the two didn't bond by talking about their differing views of death (or, they do, but it last maybe a couple pages). It just felt like the main thing holding them apart was misunderstanding one another, and once they were together, they mainly wanted to have sex.
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This or That: Writer Edition!!!
open tag from @kudzucataclysm ! open tag for yall too bc i just wanted to ramble with this akjbfgksd
historical or futuristic
I tend to focus either a changed version of our era or the future, ORR just completely rewrite history with batshit insane worldbuilding. As for SUL I really like the mix between futuristic and fantasy elements, like RWBY or Lego Monkie Kid; but I don't really tend to go past the 2000s millenia for my stories lmao
2. the opening chapter or closing chapter
Whenever I have a story I feel like I have a vague plot and only the Point B. Openings are SUPER hard because you have to make sure you hook the reader with the most basic, not-developed-yet versions of the characters. Even harder in trying to study pilot episodes as an animation major @_@.
Fun fact, SUL's ending scene has been the same since 2017!
3. light & fluffy or dark & gritty
I really like exploring darker topics; it'd be a real challenge for me to make something 90% wholesome. However I always want some form of happy ending despite all the darkness. Even looking at the Winter Boys, Cobalt gets his arm cut off, Ventus loses his girlfriend and gets used by his former gang members, and Nix... Nix goes through a lot akjbgsdkgsd, but all of them still find happiness in the end
4. animal companion or found family
Found family! The struggle with animal companions is simply just, not forgetting that they exist lmao. Especially as someone who tends to just do normal dog/cat animals, none of the animal companions are sentient enough to carry themselves. My main stories (SUL, ETSS, AuAg) all have elements of found family :] bc at least I can explore the emotional range of a human more than my dog lmao
5. horror or romance
im a huge wuss ngl KBSGJKSGS all of my pure horror concepts tend to get fueled into Last Light because of how much of a wuss i am JBSKGJS. Even though I chose romance I never tend to make it the MAIN focus of a story; CoRi in SUL you see the middle point, fallout, and (hopefully) getting back together, though the main point of SUL would be exploring the trust issues between ALL Paladins and not just the ones romantically involved. Venpris is technically a side piece in AuAg's general crime plot (as tender and intimate as they are), and ofc ETSS has space-apple wars to wage in between all the LuxNex fluff
6. hard or soft magic system
I need a hard system bc Im too stupid to make a soft one JKBFGSKJGD
I guess for SUL actual "magic" tends to be pretty soft since it's implied witchcraft is something gods have gifted to mortals BUT in all fairness I'm still plotting the witchcraft elements of SUL
For actual elemental powers I'm still constantly adding rules and this or that for SUL characters simply because it feels more organized and thus more organized for me to put into a plot lol
7. standalone or series
Seriessss I grew up with MLP multiple seasons, Yugioh + Yugioh GX multiple seasons,,, heck also RWBY and Lego Monkie Kid multiple seasons. I dont tend to get SUPER attached to specific movies, especially standalones, so my brain just sorta automatically tries to write stuff as if they're multiple season projects. ETSS and SUL have the most obvious season-by-season plots, though AuAg so far I'm not super sure about BUT definitely feel like it'd span multiple episodes
8. one project at a time or always juggling two+
I always hyperfixate on one at a time JBSKDJSG in between bursts of SUL it's been ETSS, sprinkles of AuAg, then that brief period of JMON in Fall 2021.
9. one award winner or one best seller
I'm not really sure if I have a preference for either of these tbh LMAO I just wanna create and hope theyre successful enough to carry me throughout life
10. fantasy or sci-fi
Im too stupid for sci fi tbh JBSKJGS I always worry about getting this or that wrong so I tend to go pretty fantasy bc I have fun worldbuilding it knowing I can just do batshit whatever like the very first instances of SUL basically mixing YuGiOh and MLP logic akjbfskdg.
11. character or setting description
I may be an art major but I'm an art major who hasn't done proper backgrounds since high school JKBGKSJGS I think a lot of my descriptions are pretty clunky In General but characters are easier since I always have character designs first before environmental design
12. first or final draft
A lot of my work at the moment is based off of doing things quickly. The Atlasify comics, my own writing, heck my art too. I don't like spending too long on certain projects or such so technically all of my work is first drafts bc I wanna get stuff done first instead of never finishing one project
13. love triangle in everything or no romantic arcs
Technically both ETSS and SUL have somewhat love triangle moments but
a.) ETSS is more an exploration on identity than romance
b.) the SUL love triangle is literally between turqbalt's two identities and rina
BUT god I'd rather have no romantic arcs at all than actual love triangle moments. Do you know how many teleseryes have the cheesiest cliche love triangles? No thank u I wanna do all or nothing
14. constant sandstorm or rainstorm
i love the rain :] the air is fresh and the plants look greener. i dont think my asthma would love lots of sand tbh
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Why did you write two versions of Hunger Pangs?
What’s the difference and is one more “valid” than the other?
I get a lot of questions when people find out I wrote two versions of Hunger Pangs (Phangs). To answer that second question first, the only difference is that one contains explicit sexual content, and the other merely alludes to it.
The Flirting with Fangs edition (red cover) contains multiple scenes that depict sexual acts, either solo or partnered. (link)
The Fluff and Fangs edition (blue cover) is less explicit. I say less because while the scene(s) fade to black, some elements of physical affection are still shown, along with a fairly involved conversation about consent and kink. This is in the latter half of Chapter 28, and as noted on my website, you can skip this part if it makes you uncomfortable and not miss anything important to either the plot or character development. (link)
Both versions contain heat ratings and content warnings on my website. I can’t put it in/on the books themselves because Amazon is going after authors for mentioning content warnings (link), so when in doubt, check www.joydemorra.com or send me a message!
And no, one version is not more “valid” than the other. Both are canon. If it helps, think of them as parallel universes running side by side down the narrative timeline. The plot and character development remain the same; the scenes have just been altered to accommodate reader preference.
Then why do this at all?
As stated above, I wrote two different versions primarily to accommodate reader preference. When I first started writing Hunger Pangs: TLB, I was widely known on Tumblr for being “that erotica editor.” (link) I used to be a ghostwriter for my publishing house, too, so chances are some of you have already read my work under another author’s name*. A large chunk of my professional life has been spent writing sexually explicit content. It’s what I was then known and popular for, so it never occurred to me that anyone who was sex averse or didn’t enjoy reading about sex would be interested in my work.
And then those exact people started messaging me to let me know they were super excited about my work, couldn’t wait to buy a copy and would just skip past the sex parts that made them uncomfortable.
And that didn’t sit right with me.
Phangs is a bit of a weird project. It was started via a Tumblr shitpost (link) and grew from there. It was funded entirely by the support of my Patreon, which people kept supporting even after it took me years longer to finish it than initially planned because my health took a proverbial nose dive into the tenth circle of hell. It is not an exaggeration to say my Patreon and Tumblr kept me alive during that time. You kept our lights on and put what little food I could eat into my fridge. You supported me both physically and emotionally during one of the worst times of my life. And during that time, I wrote the entire Phangs series, assuming it would be edited and published posthumously**. It was both my swan song and a parting gift. A means of saying thank you for all your support over the years and the fervent hope you’d feel my love on every page. Because never doubt this, I wrote Phangs for you. Phangs is a love letter to fandom from start to finish. It’s written specifically to appeal to fandom and all the things we love about it.
So when people told me they were going to buy it but skip parts of it, I felt the need to make sure they were getting equal amounts of content for their money. So the “fluff” version of the narrative was born, replacing the sex-based scenes with more emotional and “fluffy” but still intimate interactions that keep the character arcs and plot intact.
For the first book, I tried to keep the scenes as similar in theme as possible. That’s why Chapter 28 still features a frank discussion around kink and consent, as a large part of Vlad’s character arc is learning that his wants and desires matter, but more importantly, so do his boundaries. But I also purposefully wrote it so that you can skip away after that conversation and not miss anything in the lead-up to the fade to black/implied sex scene. As the series progresses, the scenes may differ more as I play around having fun with it. But the fact remains that the characterization and plot will always stay true.
It’s merely about what kind of reading experience you want.
Do I expect other authors to do this? Absolutely not. This is a labor of love. The “fluff” version being popular is merely a bonus that enables me to keep writing. So thank you. I’m off to keep working on the next story.
*Before anyone asks, no, I can’t tell you who. I signed NDAs that are still in effect.
**Jokes on me, I guess because I lived, and now I have to edit and rewrite all 500-f*cking-k of it.
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Hunxi congrats with the progress on the QianQiu subs translation!!! 🥳 (I'm so excited!)
I also saw you read svsss, oh my! I loved your LBH meta! Can you also do one on SY!SQQ please? Would love to have your thoughts on this chaotic unreliable narrator! And also maybe the Bingqiu relationship from Shen Yuan's side?
ty, I'm so close to finishing the 《山河剑心》 subs that I can TASTE IT--
so I've been sitting on this ask for who knows how long because I’ve been trying to track down a single coherent thought about Shen Yuan!Shen Qingqiu in my brain and every time I think I've got a handle on his character I uncover something else, slippery bastard that he is (affectionate)
I'm still not sure I've got a handle on his character but this ask isn't going to write itself no matter how hopefully I stare at it, so here goes
some housekeeping! the first is that in this post, all iterations of "Shen Qingqiu" refer to Shen Yuan!Shen Qingqiu unless explicitly noted otherwise
the second is that I think that there's a distinct possibility that I am Overthinking Simple Things Again, especially because I firmly believe authors should be allowed to not think through Every Single Exhaustive Detail of Their Narrative, so like, it's very possible I'm reading far more into Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu's character than I should be, maybe he really is just as simple as a webnovel fan who gets transmigrated into his favorite love-to-hate textual disaster
but I gotta live up to my blog header (心怀杂念，字数无量), so buckle up, I guess we’re doing this
when scraping together the remnants of sentient thought in my brain for this ask, I tried to start with basic premises about Shen Qingqiu that I thought I could rely on. so, premise: Shen Qingqiu is an ordinary dude who gets transmigrated into a shitty webnovel and tries his best to survive
except he isn't, right? first of all, it's not just any webnovel -- it's a 600+ chapter disaster of a work that nevertheless has legions of rabid fans, that suckered him into caring about it somehow, that once perhaps held some potential for becoming Something Great but whose author summarily sold out for the hit count and the money. second of all, Shen Yuan isn’t just any reader, is he? he's PIDW's greatest anti-fan, bitterly dedicated to reading every single amateurish word while writing essays about how bad each new development is (never forget that Shen Yuan was so loud about this that Shang Qinghua, the literal author, recognized Shen Yuan’s web ID amidst thousands of comments). He's someone who continued reading this book for the plot when several hundred chapters ago it devolved into gratuitous PWP
so, not quite your average reader then. he’s also gifted with an exceptional memory (of the monster catalog, and what little plot there is), more investment in the characters than he'd like to admit (again -- he read all 600+ chapters for the plot), and genre/narrative savviness (he knows how these stories go, and more particularly how this story goes, and can therefore manipulate aspects of worldbuilding to his advantage)
and the more I thought about this, the more I couldn’t square the words “ordinary” and “Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu” in my head, because despite what his narration would imply (the only premise I honestly feel confident in truly declaring is that Shen Qingqiu is a comically unreliable narrator), he’s really quite exceptional in many ways
I touched on it briefly in this post, but again and again, what stands out to me about Shen Qingqiu is that, well -- he’s a decent person
I’m not sure ‘kind’ is the right word, or ‘compassionate,’ or ‘loyal,’ or ‘self-sacrificing,’ because it honestly feels a little silly to throw such Big, Dramatic Words at the insane roller coaster ride of SVSSS, a text which actively satirizes the romanticization of such virtues, but at the same time, all of those words can be used to describe Shen Qingqiu. He’d probably 疯狂吐槽 laugh at me for it, but I defy anyone to explain the entire 圣陵 uhh... demonic mausoleum? arc to me without using those words
and when it comes down to it, Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu is, well... decent. He’s not a grand, larger-than-life, self-sacrificing hero the way, say, Xie Lian is, but he also has a bottom line where he will put his foot down, so help him System, and we see him go to great lengths to do what he believes is right -- hell, not even the right thing, just the basic, decent, human thing to do
again (gesticulates wildly) the entire Demon Mausoleum arc; it’s particularly telling that chapter 60 ends with the line: “不过，还好，总算这次没坑了洛冰河。” / “Though, it was fine -- at least this time, he hadn’t screwed over Luo Binghe.” What’s fine? Oh, that’s right--the fact that he’s been severely injured and infected by yet another a crippling, parasitic magical plot device in defense of Luo Binghe. Shen Qingqiu just does this repeatedly throughout the narrative, downplays some truly incredible moments of selflessness/self-sacrifice with his unending internal sass, recasts any genuine emotion he might be having as frustrated exasperation at a terribly-written plot/badly-built world. but like. are we gonna talk about the fact that Shen Qingqiu is casually tortured multiple times throughout this webnovel or like--
again, the Demon Mausoleum arc is the gift that just keeps giving, here:
沈清秋自认倒霉，却不想别人也跟着倒霉，他一手捂着心口，勉力保持脸上表情不变：“阁下想怎么折腾我，请随意。如你所说，喝了这么多次，也该习惯了。可你若是要洛冰河的肉身，想都别想。”
Shen Qingqiu was resigned to his shit luck, but that didn’t mean he wanted other people to also suffer his shitty luck. He pressed one hand to his heart and barely managed to maintain the expression on his face: “Whatever torture you’d like to inflict on me, please feel free. Like you said, after drinking so much [demon blood], I should be used to it now. But don’t even think about taking Luo Binghe’s body.”
沈清秋生平最恨那种被作为要挟筹码的角色，想让他扮这种拖后腿的角色，还不如叫他去死。
Shen Qingqiu hated those characters who were held hostage the most; he’d rather die than play such a role.
(chapter 62)
sure, we have some characteristic Shen Qingqiu snarky genre commentary at the bottom there, but let’s not overlook the fact that Shen Qingqiu said to Tianlang-jun, the greatest archvillain that was never realized in the original PIDW (except that the real villain was the evil demonic sword we carried with us all along), do what you like to me, but don’t even think about touching Luo Binghe
and Shen Qingqiu is constantly doing this in his narration: he’ll do something that’s quite, y’know, good of him, and then immediately play it off as selfishness or survival. He’s being nice to Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge, Shen Qingqiu insists, not because he genuinely cares for them or whatever, but for his “future survival.” He then proceeds to be so nice to both of them that they both fall in love with him, and look, it may have happened off-screen but my dude, you’ve definitely gone above and beyond the call of duty/survival at that point
the narrative unequivocally rewards Shen Qingqiu for his kindness decency -- we joke that Shen Qingqiu transmigrated into a harem novel only to accidentally end up with a harem of his own, but he really did secure the loyalties of half a dozen characters simply by being, well, a decent guy. He saves doesn’t kill Liu Qingge and befriends him pretty much as an afterthought. As a result, Liu Qingge is ride or die for him for the rest of the book. Shen Qingqiu saves doesn’t kill Zhuzhi-lang, who eventually betrays Tianlang-jun for him. Shen Qingqiu is, uh... a reasonable authority figure in the vicinity of Gongyi Xiao, who then proceeds to betray his sect and break Shen Qingqiu out of prison. The Qingjing Peak disciples adore Shen Qingqiu (I’m not even counting the one that, y’know, really fucking adores him), and would gladly throw hands to defend his reputation. I’ll grant you that Yue Qingyuan’s loyalty to Shen Qingqiu was grandfathered in, but like. if you look at the narrative and the relationships that develop in it, Shen Qingqiu is basically a walking vortex of cordial acquaintanceship who suckers in anyone within a certain radius
is Shen Qingqiu nice? he’d deny it to hell and back, but he’s generally a decent guy and that makes him the hottest fucking ticket in this insane, insane webnovel
I think I’ve lost the thread of the plot here (me and Shen Qingqiu both, tbh) but you asked about bingqiu, so! (rolls up sleeves) let’s talk about bingqiu, I guess
the bingqiu relationship from Shen Qingqiu’s side, in one word, is this: indulgence. Shen Qingqiu begins in a caregiving position for Luo Binghe, and nurtures him, supports him, teaches him, shapes him. Shen Qingqiu also praises him, smiles at him, indulges him. Shen Qingqiu is constantly letting Luo Binghe do things -- cook for him, take care of responsibilities for him, pitch into his arms repeatedly -- such that, well, not to be like “Luo Binghe fell in love with Shen Qingqiu for his kindness,” but highkey, Luo Binghe wholeheartedly adores his shizun because here, for once, is someone who did not abandon him, who believes in him, who chose him over others
meanwhile, Shen Qingqiu is completely oblivious to his effect on Luo Binghe for a staggering amount of the novel, which plays right into Shen Qingqiu’s character arc over the course of SVSSS: simply put, taking responsibility for his own actions
trust me for a bit, I’m going to go on a bit of a tangent to explain how I got there but we’ll make it back, I promise:
we are given deliberately little of Shen Yuan's IRL backstory -- it’s kind of skimmed over with a quick “oh yes, he came from a rich family and didn’t do much with his life, don’t think too hard about it” -- but regardless of what inferences we might want to make about his family life or childhood, the one thing continues to strike me as absolutely key to understanding both Shen Yuan and Shen Yuan-as-Shen Qingqiu is this: in his previous life, Shen Yuan feels preeminently disposable
yes, we’re told that Shen Qingqiu has an almost supernatural capability for dealing with the new and insane shit the plot throws at him, but even with that, I can’t let go of the fact that Shen Qingqiu barely mourns his old life at all
to be fair, for Shen Qingqiu to moan and whine and angst about his own death and the family and friends he’s left behind would be, well, rather tedious and bothersome when all we, as readers, care for is the excitement of exploring a new world and the advancement of the plot, but even then, even making allowances for expectations of genre and reader preference, I think Shen Yuan’s lack of a vibrant life with emotional connections in his prior existence is both notable and significant
the phrase that he repeats, over and over, is that all he ever thought he would do is 混吃等死 to waste time, to eat, to wait for death. Shen Yuan is nobody, not someone with great ambitions or dreams, nor someone who will make waves or change the world. he’s the forgettable middle child of a vaguely rich family somewhere, and if he vanished off the face of the earth, it would not be worth a tragedy -- just a peculiar, tragicomic kind of embarrassment, an odd kind of ruefulness but no true sorrow
and so Shen Yuan carries this mindset of his own disposability, his own helplessness in the face of plot or fate or destiny or the protagonist halo, forward into Shen Qingqiu’s life. this is why it takes him so long to realize that the plot of PIDW has changed on him; even after he’s knocked the narrative off its axis by saving Liu Qingge, by being kind to Luo Binghe, by literally dying, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t quite believe that he’s actually effected change. he’s constantly reading the original novel’s end into his current present; he’s constantly superimposing the original Luo Binghe over the one standing before him
we see this also in his profoundly unreliable narration -- he constantly describes Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge as reliable bastions, as nothing more than NPCs, merely tools he intends to use for his own survival, but his own dreamscape betrays him. in chapter 41, we see that his nightmares are haunted by images of Liu Qingge’s death by qi deviation, Yue Qingyuan’s death by ten thousand arrows. “I don’t actually care about them,” Shen Qingqiu insists in his narration, while actually caring very deeply
(“I’m incredibly selfish and just out here to save my own skin,” Shen Qingqiu protests, while turning himself over to Luo Binghe in exchange for Cang Qiong’s safety)
and so, Shen Yuan’s character arc is this: coming to own the fact that 1) he does actually care, which means that 2) his actions are more than game mechanisms conducted at arms length with no real stakes, but real actions with real consequences on real people
and this, metatextually, reflects the journey of his relationship with PIDW as a whole (going from “what are you talking about, I hate this fucking novel” to “fine. FINE. I didn’t say it was good, I said I like it okay?!”) as well as the arc of his relationship with Shen Qingqiu, the body he wears, the identity he steals by accident and eventually grows into. by coming to accept his role as Shen Qingqiu, and therefore his place in this not-quite-PIDW-anymore canon, Shen Yuan is finally accepting the fact that this is now his life
and who is he in his life? indisposable
perhaps, for the first time, his actions effect change; the words he casually throws out are remembered, internalized, recited back at him years later. Shen Qingqiu is absolutely critical to the plot and to the development of the characters around him, and it takes him a while to realize this and come to terms with the fact that his actions have consequences, his words have effects, and that he has, for better or worse, had a direct hand into shaping Luo Binghe into who he is now today
this isn’t to say that it’s Shen Qingqiu’s fault that Luo Binghe is like this -- let’s not remove a character’s agency in developing themselves or an individual’s responsibility to be a decent person -- but Shen Qingqiu has helped make Luo Binghe who he is today, and the emotional turn of the novel occurs when he begins to accept that and take responsibility for it
so perhaps what I’m trying to say isn’t so much “Shen Qingqiu learns to take responsibility for his actions” as “Shen Yuan as Shen Qingqiu learns to take ownership over his life, his agency, his actions, and his effects on the world and the people around him,” which is how we get back to Luo Binghe
and the last thing I want to say about the bingqiu relationship in this post that apparently will not end is this: the book ends at their beginning. I mean this literally, in that the last chapter of this webnovel is titled “The Story’s Beginning” so like. it’s right there y’all
which is to say, all of bingqiu’s relationship development and negotiation, all of the messy tangled threads of resentment and forgiveness, all of the awkward tears and arguments and apologies and exploration happens after the book ends
bingqiu is not perfect. bingqiu is fraught as hell. bingqiu is a flaming clown car careening off the edge of an upside-down mountain peak that is being forcefully yoinked into this plane of existence as part of a hare-brained scheme to smash two realms together. bingqiu is composed of a vastly overpowered and deeply insecure former protagonist who has the ability to destroy entire worlds and a compulsive webnovel reader transmigrated into the questionably immortal body of his lover’s former abuser who snarks on reflex as a coping mechanism. all of which is to say--
it’s gonna take a hot second for these two disasters to work through things, okay
tl;dr Shen Qingqiu, you slippery bastard (affectionate), I hope you live happily ever after with the extremely clingy consequences of your actions
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I have watched Lucifer series finale yesterday and I am still reeling from feelings, feelings I need to work through to be able to move on.
Unfortunately, I am late to the party and I have started watching Lucifer (despite the show being on my radar for a few years already) when season 6 came out, and this turned avoiding spoilers about the ending as well as the show itself into an extremely hard task. I have, of course, seen some reactions to the ending and it was obvious that the viewers were divided between "the ending was amazing, they really did the story and the characters justice" and "what the fuck was that". I always take these reactions, especially when they come instantly after the episode has ended, with a grain of salt because, realistically, I haven't been fully satisfied with the way a tv show has ended - any tv show - since, like, 2010. However, I also know that there is a difference between "okay, the ending was anticlimactic/disappointing/etc, however, it is the journey that matters and I am still pretty happy with the show" and HIMYM type of ending where you are like "I want this show wiped from my memory because the final hour has ruined the entire experience for me". So, I took some time to reflect on the events that took place, gather my thoughts, and make my peace with the ending. After doing that, I can comfortably say that I am not fully satisfied with the ending because of one very simple reason - I can make sense of the choices taken by the character at the very end of the show only if I use "Lucifer gave Rory his word" rationale, and not because I believe in the theory they provided or the choices they make. So here are some of my thoughts about the ending of this beloved show, including both the things I liked and disliked. Be warned, there are spoilers ahead so if you haven't seen the show, the final season or the series finale, please stop reading because you don't want to manifest spoilery energy into your life!
The main thing I have a problem with is the time loop. I will begin by saying that I really dislike time travel in general - I think that it is an overly used plot divice that more than often creates holes in the story instead of driving the narrative where it needs to go, unless the concept of time travel is integral to the show, like for example in Timeless and Fringe. However, in this case, I dislike that the major characters have made a major decision (a serious, impactful, life-altering decision) based on a flimsy theory. And since they have told us exactly what will happen in the end, we simply didn't know why and how, I have expected a more bulletproof reasoning instead of a rushed conversation wrapped up in five minutes and sealed by a promise. Lucifer leaves Chloe and Rory and goes back to hell, Rory grows up resenting him and she becomes so angry she travels through time to confront him only to end up being the reason for his departure, therefore creating an unbreakable time loop. She makes her parents give her their word that they won't change a thing in order to make sure that Lucifer discovers his true calling, which is helping souls in Hell break their hell loops and ascend to Heaven. And the reason I am so hesitant to accept this is because of two reasons:
1. Lucifer has made amazing progress through the show when it comes to his character development, finding his worth and making peace with his identity, and yet you are trying to tell me that this is the only way he would discover his true calling, especially now when he has a higher level of understanding himself than ever before? And especially since these thoughts and doubts have already been in his mind aka him postponing to become God long before Rory's arrival into their timeline!
2. The consequences of our actions are the results of the choices we make, not the other way around. And sometimes, different choices can lead to different outcomes and sometimes the array of choices we make lead to the same outcome. It is absolutely possible that if they broke the time loop and made different choices, that their actions would lead them to the same outcome aka Lucifer finding his calling while remaining in their lives. I think that it is fully possible for them to make a timeline B (the timeline that would have been created if they broke the time loop) based on the discoveries from the timeline A (their current timeline). There's no reason for me to believe otherwise.
Apart from the discovery of Lucifer's calling, the only thing that came out of the time loop was pain, suffering and probably a lot of loneliness. Even the good things that came out of the time loop (like Lucifer and Rory bonding) are a consequence of the pain that it caused. Of course, if they broke a time loop and created a completely new timeline, choices they would make there could theoretically end up having worse consequences on their lives. They could also be better, or they could be completely the same. The thing is, we don't know, we can only speculate and that is exactly what bothers me. The main characters made a major decision based on a speculation. I don't necessarily have a problem with the things that have happened, but rather with how they happened and how they were explained. Or better to say, how they weren't. I think that they should have completely dedicated the season to exploring this and reassuring us that this is the right choice to make and the right way to go.
Also, the concept of free will and making one's own choices has been pretty integral to the show. We have watched Lucifer struggle with the concept since the beginning of the show because he was convinced he is only a puppet in his father's grand plans. There were many events in the show reinforcing that belief, like Chloe being the gift from God. It took him seasons to accept that he chose to stay in her life, to be close to her, to be her partner in work as well as in life and in that acceptance he finally found the strength to tell her that he loves her. He chose her and she chose him. And while one can argue that leaving them and going back to hell was Lucifer's choice (since, technically, he could have chosen to break his word to his daughter and change things), it is one he didn't want to make. In the final episode he says that he desires to watch his daughter grow up and before he leaves for Hell he tells Chloe he doesn't want to leave her (she even responds that she doesn't want him to leave either, but that this is the choice that they are making for Rory's sake), making me feel like he is making this choice out of duty, out of fear and not because he wants to. He finally accepted that the choices he makes are his and his only, and the final choice in the show was made for him instead by him - I really don't think that the character deserved this. Lucifer gave Rory his word and we know he always goes by his word - they have turned one of the most essential qualities of his character into a plot device and an instrument that caused pain. Additionally, since Rory asked him not to change anything, it was implied that Lucifer can't come back to Earth in order not to risk changing anything even though it is completely possible for him to balance his work hours in Hell and his family time on Earth, like Amenadiel did. I also found this completely unfair and it felt like Lucifer was "banished" to Hell, not only missing out on being with Chloe and watching Rory grow up, but also staying away from his friends and the life he had built for himself. However, on the brighter side, Lucifer doing this - something he doesn't completely understand, something he doesn't want to do - is incredibly selfless of him and only shows how much he has grown. A character who has been described as selfish and self-serving from the very beginning does something so ultimately selfless, something that doesn't serve him in any way - quite the opposite, it pains him. As I said, I don't necessarily mind how things played out, I mind the lack of guarantee that they had to be this way. The only thing we don't know is if Lucifer and Chloe were in contact over the years since Chloe could have kept in touch with him behind Rory's back - maybe she sent him pictures of Rory, and maybe they exchanged letters. I am very doubtful because this would probably make the whole situation harder on them nor do I think that they would risk it because they wouldn't be able to know if their actions are breaking the time loop or if they are a part of the original timeline but hey, this is the stuff that fan fictions are made of!
And finally, I very much disliked the parallel between Lucifer and God - Lucifer abandoning his child for the sake of doing his job and that child growing up resenting him - if it was their intention to draw such a parallel. I think that God somewhat "redeemed" himself in Lucifer's eyes and that through accepting himself Lucifer also learned how to stop resenting his father for the things that transpired between them, and I don't necessarily believe that Lucifer had to walk in his father's shoes to understand him. So, in my opinion, this was completely unnecessary.
Something I did like was Lucifer's calling - I think that it shows nicely the full circle he has made and that the souls he thought he is supposed to torture he is now helping heal. In a way, Hell is also the reflection of who Lucifer is - when he saw himself as broken, as evil, as unworthy and undeserving, Hell was also a place of torture - it was a reflection of him. And now that he accepted himself and that others have accepted him for who he is as well, it is a place of healing. In the end, Hell is his kingdom and he can choose to rule it the way he wants to. He broke his own hell loop and he truly became a lightbringer.
And, of course, Lucifer and Chloe (they are so soft and I am so soft for them). Taking into consideration my very bad OTP track reckord, I kinda expected a much, much worse ending for them - I mean, the Devil falling in love with a human, what could possibly go wrong, right? I knew from the very beginning that they aren't getting a pure, wholeseome, family-like ending. In order for that to happen, she would either have to become immortal (leaving Trixie, losing her detective identity), or he would have to become mortal - both of these scenarios feel cheap and I never would have wanted this for them or the show. Another option was to give them their happy life on Earth but then they would either have to leave a somewhat open ending or deal with the fact that ultimately, as a mortal, Chloe will die. And if they were given their happy ending on Earth, who knows if they would end up together in afterlife. Even if they did, it definitely wouldn't feel as emotional and as gratifying as it does now. The thing is, it is easy to give in to the pain of their separation when we measure it by the pivotal moments of happiness and loss that drive the lives of humans - him not being there when Rory was born or when she grew wings or when she started school - and it is even harder when you know how much she needed him and how much he wanted to be there for her. It is even more painful when you think about Chloe spending her entire lifetime without him, carrying all that pain inside of her, and him spending what had to be centuries alone in Hell. However, this is a fantasy show and many of our characters are immortal, celestial beings who have a different understanding of time, so maybe the idea of what a happy ending is and the rules for measuring happiness aren't the same as they would have been under other circumstances. Chloe became lieutenant and tried to make a difference, and she got to raise her daughters and see them grow up, and Lucifer helped so many souls heal, doing so much good. And now they get to spend the eternity together, solving crimes and kicking ass in the afterlife! Many of their friends and family are immortal, celestial beings too and (I am pretty sure) they can pay a visit to their human friends in Heaven... or see them in Hell, but let's hope not! In the end, what is one lifetime compared to eternity? Of course, none of this makes for the time they have lost, the momories they didn't get to make and the moments he wasn't there for, but now there are so many new memories they will get to make and so many moments to catch up on. It is bittersweet, but I think that's how it was supposed to be - in the end, pain is part of life.
I also have a few (dis)honourable mentions:
1. I am really sad and disappointed Lucifer didn't get to say goodbye to Trixie. She was gone for the majority of the season, but she was also a very important person in his life and he loved her. And we know how much she loved him.
2. I can't get over Rory travelling through time to kill her father because she is angry at him... sis, you kill him before he makes you, you wipe yourself out of existence.
3. I can't believe that they were surprised that Chloe got pregnant after having loads of superhuman sex (without any protection, apparently) after another human already got pregnant with an angel not that long ago.
4. Lucifer saying goodbye to Maze will forever remain one of the most beautiful scenes in the show.
5. The final major scene between Chloe and Lucifer, where they say goodbye before he leaves for hell, lives in my head rent free. I was choking on tears watching that scene, I literally had to pause and rewind three times. Such a beautiful(ly painful) scene. Also, when you have a ship and a person A says to the person B "close your eyes", pain is coming. I swear I travelled back to 1999 when Buffy said the same thing to Angel before sending him to a hell dimension.
6. When Chloe dies and goes to Heaven and Amenadiel greets her and asks her if she's ready to go home and then takes her to Lucifer was so pure. Her Heaven is being in Hell with Lucifer and there's something deeply poetic about that.
7. Hearing hello detective for the last time cleared my skin.
I have really and truly enjoyed the show, and the minor inconsistencies I see in its ending can't change that. I loved the show because it told stories about people and it allowed them to drive the narrative, and I can't say many shows these days do that.
#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#chloe decker#deckerstar#trixie espinoza#rory morningstar#aurora morningstar#amenadiel#ella lopez#linda martin#mazikeen smith#text#rant#writing#reaction#review#tv review#lucifans#lucifer finale
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Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.
Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.
To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.
I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.
Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.
Where's the Gun?
Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.
Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.
Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.
That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.
He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.
None of that happened this chapter.
Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.
In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.
The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?
They're strangers.
They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.
Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.
So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.
So from that angle she's unnecessary.
Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.
And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.
Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.
We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.
"Those who can fly, should."
"I don't belong in a cage."
"I'm free of my shackles."
"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"
What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.
@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.
Which brings me to another concern.
2. What's the point?
There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.
We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.
If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.
Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.
By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!
All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*
FOUR PAGES!!!
Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.
3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!
It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.
Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!
None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.
It's BAD WRITING.
The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.
This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.
4. At least it can get better... I hope.
Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.
It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.
See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.
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Thoughts on Miraculous Shanghai: The Legend of Lady Dragon
Warning: Spoilers! Other than that, have fun!
Also, if you want to watch the full English Dub, click here!
I love how we saw Fei's backstory as to how she became guardian of the Prodigious and how it was actually stolen because there are people who want money from her adoptive father's studio. It was also sad to see that the values her father implemented into her fade due to the circumstances they found themselves in. I speak for all of us to say that this girl needs a hug.
The intro as always is beautiful! Since it was not the first thing we saw, I was confused when looking through the episodes on YT.
I always enjoy Marinette's monologues, and this one was over how she looked forward to her holiday (it was like a vacation type thing). And how she looked forward to spend time with Adrien since his father was going to let him out. It was all perfect...
...until she went to deliver Uncle Wang's package and found out Adrien left for Shanghai at the last minute. But all is good though because she could go to Shanghai, deliver the gift personally, and see Adrien.
It hurts me to see that the writers made Marinette's purpose to go to Shanghai is to see Adrien when she can do that in Paris! It frustrates me that her character development goes back to square one, even as the protagonist of the show. People might point out this was before season 3, but I have a few points that say otherwise or that the writers are mixing things up. But first, the plot points and thoughts of everything else.
Also, I get that Marinette is 14/15/16 at the time of this episode, but how likely is it to send your child on their own halfway across the world??? On SHORT NOTICE??? I swear Sabine and Tom are too chill with this, but then again, there would be no story.
Also, I love how Ladybug and Chat Noir took the opportunity of their patrols without akumas to bond more. The Ladynoir in this episode I stan!
Gabriel you piece of trash! If you did not plan to spend time with your son, why take him to Shanghai when he was hoping to spend time with you?! And do not say "for business purposes" because even though Adrien is a face in the brand, at least don't give him false hope and that bs!
Nooro, thank you for trying to talk Gabriel out of it, but he is literally a wall (talking to Gabriel=talking to a wall)
I will say, the waiting for 15 years thing is very concerning.
Uncle Wang has been looking forward to see Marinette in person in Shanghai to learn more about her roots. He is ecstatic and its just heartwarming and heartbreaking when you think that part of Marinette's stay will be related to Adrien.
At least we see one thing that makes Marinette's stay not all about Adrien though: she is genuinely interested in her origins! Like when she asks about her family's traditional songs and about her mom, even learning her real name!
Speaking of which, Sabine's name is Xia Ping and only called herself Sabine when she started living in France. Also, I love her photo!
Bastille the bird that was around since forever is an icon!
Also, I can't believe Uncle Wang has not taken a break since Sabine moved to France, like what the hell??? Give this guy a break for goodness sake.
Thank you Gabriel for having one brain cell and allowing your son to leave the hotel! We still hate you for everything else though.
Its cool that Kwamis speak all of the languages. It is also the most logical thing because their wielder could be from anywhere. My question is are they taught the languages, does it form when a concept forms in the universe and they start existing, or like everything else is it magic?
Gorilla is iconic for two reasons: he is still a self care king, and he was willing to give Adrien some space to get action figures.
And now as I wrote that, this is where I am getting confused and start to believe this is post season 3: 1) Gorilla seems less anxious about being in a new place (unlike NY where he stayed in the hotel room the entire time), and 2) His obsession for action figures was shown in Party Crasher (season 3), which makes me wonder if the explanation is during season 3 or this episode hints at season 3. For the first point, it could be because Gabriel was not in NY to his knowledge.
Fei appears again and explains how she views the world and how she also uses that to help and take advantage of others.
She almost steals Adrien's phone and miraculous until Gorilla steps in. It hurts me because she is a good person but had to resort to stealing for a reason that we will explore soon.
Plagg, we always say your stomach causes trouble, but this time, you brought Adrien to Marinette's uncle...
...but also that ironically separated them as Marinette found them just as they climbed into the taxi.
This is also where Fei (wearing a disguise) crosses paths with Marinette and steals her purse. Then she went for the kwagatama and miraculous.
Things get worse for Fei as these boys that took a photo with Adrien earlier started chasing her. Then Marinette started going after them.
That is when she realized she was robbed and understandably, she was more horrified of losing her Miraculous.
Adrien shows up to Uncle Wang's home/restaurant. So many iconic moments happen.
1) Bastille says something about love between Marinette and Adrien. And Adrien responds with the line that makes us want to jump into the TV and talk some sense into him.
2) You say that "she's JuST a fRIenD" yet you stay over with her mom's uncle so you can surprise her lol. Adrien, you kill me and every other Adrienette fan with this contradicting statements.
Speaking of Marinette, she gets lost and has trouble communicating with others because she does not speak Chinese. And at some point says that she regrets not taking lessons?! Uh, what does this imply, that she refused lessons or that she did not have the opportunity for lessons??????? I NEED ANSWERS!
Can we say once again how talented and artistic Marinette is? Bad time? Moving on!
Uncle Wang is unaware of Marinette's tardiness, and Adrien just jokes about it. Considering that she is technically missing (reality is that she's lost), I don't think its time to joke about it.
The lady that gave Marinette some earrings that look like the Miraculous is so nice and bless her soul
The person from the pawn shop is the bad guy that we see at the very end of the NY special! And he knows about what happened to Fei's father! I am grateful that he sees no value in Marinette's stuff so he won't sell it for a lot, but I hate how he's greedy for money and was willing to exploit Fei's hunger for answers and Marinette needing her miraculous for personal gains.
Meanwhile, the boys from the photo with Adrien that chased Fei were trying to get Marinette's attention (they found her kwagatama when Fei dropped it running away and fighting them), but she thought they were gonna attack her. And then she bumps into Fei, who helps her escape.
Marinette finds comfort in Fei for being willing to "help" her (remember that she was gonna bring her to the pawn shop). She also finds Fei as a helpful, kind person who is brave: something that Fei does not see in herself, but does not have the heart to tell Marinette the truth.
Meanwhile, Chat has transformed to find Marinette and its the most endearing thing I've seen! Adrien, you blind oblivious fool! You care about her more than you think!
They arrive in the pawn shop, Tikki escaped the claw machine, and Marinette finds the earrings...for 100000 Yuan.
Fei, understanding what its like to have something entrusted to you be stolen, gets in a spat with the pawn shop owner in Chinese, accusing the owner for greed and accusing Fei for theft, while Marinette just stands her.
Also, when did Marinette become naive???????? I get that she's in another country and they are speaking in a different language that she does not understand, but based on the tone of their voices and shouting, I feel like she should have sensed something was off.
Fei swaps the earrings the lady gave Marinette and took the miraculous back. To the lady, this is why your soul is blessed. So bless your soul!!!
Apparently, Marinette realized what happened and said that Fei stole her earrings and feels bad for the man. Girl, you do not have to feel guilty for the man! He was about to destroy them before he thought about sentimental value! Also, he did not pay Fei anything for them! (Felt that this should be brought up because even though Fei was wrong in stealing her stuff, she was also robbed from potential cash and answers, therefore the man was owed nothing.)
The boys from Adrien's photo are actually vigilantes of Shanghai (and will be referred as such from now on), wanting to bring Fei to justice for stealing, which catches Marinette's attention, but not enough to ask any questions.
Also Marinette is not wanted as a criminal. She is missing as Uncle Wang called the police.
Fei still lives in the school, which has been in ruins. Despite not having much, she still offers Marinette a cup of what I believe is water (or tea?). See peoples, Fei is a good person at heart (if y'all aren't aware of it by now)
Gabriel saw and recognized Marinette. This is horrifying and if it is prior to season 3, we see why he tries so hard to target her. Or reasons why he targets her in season 4 along with everything else we know from "Truth".
Fei should have been given the chance to explain why she stole Marinette's things, but the pawn shop owner was like "you know, I might as well expose Fei myself"...
...and it really broke Marinette, who heavily trusted her. But she can't dwell on it for long...
...because AKUMA COMES FOR THE PAWN SHOP OWNER! AND HIS FAN SHOOTS KNIVES! AND HAS GREEDY MOTIVES! AND HELPED HAWKMOTH GET INTI THE CAVE WITH THE PRODIGIOUS!!!
Also, Nathalie was involved in obtaining the bracelet years ago. Again, the 15 years thing is concerning.
Marinette flees to transform, but not without telling Fei how she broke her trust and how she feels that Feinwas not genuinely helping her. It hurt me so much!
Ladybug transforms, hears Chat's voice-mail (to which she is swooned by the fact her kitty cares for her civilian self), and calls him. The best Ladynoir scene so far!
So the prodigious is like a jewel with powers, there is only one prodigious from what we see, and that one prodigious has multiple renlings that only the wielder can see. Oh, and the bracelet is like a key. Cool.
I don't like how Fei's Lady Dragon outfit looks whitewashed, but at least her hair is red instead of blonde (which still does not make this okay)
Epic Showdown between the akuma, Hawkmoth, Ladybug, and Lady Dragon. Hawkmoth corners Ladybug and Lady Dragon gets caught in some rocks.. All hope seemed lost...
...until Chat shows up and frees the akuma with the help of a basketball.
We learn something new folks: the same butterfly can create a different akuma. This is very frightening because...
The statue that determines who is worthy of the prodigious gets akumatized! The horror!
Also, if the statue says Fei cannot become the dragon because her intention to seek vengeance for her father is not noble and worthy, then what makes Hawkmoth think he will be successful in becoming the dragon??? Because it seems that his intentions are not pure or noble. Just saying.
Hawkmoth notices the akumatized statue heading to the city and all of a sudden remembers about Adrien. Confronting the statue, he gets turned into ashes(?).
CHAT, HAWKMOTH IN ASHES WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR THE BETTER IF THE STATUE DID NOT DESTROY SHANGHAI AND YOU WOULD NOT THINK AS SUCH IF YOU KNEW HE WAS YOUR FATHER! But I am not mad at you, just wanted to point out your irony.
ML WRITERS, WHY DO YOU KEEP KILLING OFF CHAT????? LADYBUG DOES NOT NEED ANY MORE TRAUMA AND THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY!!!! I AM SCREAMING INSIDE!!!!!
Fei is understandably upset and blames herself for what happen. I want to hug her so badly.
Marinette reassures Fei and forgives her, even though Fei felt that she could not be forgiven.
The structure they were standing on collapses and it was Fei as the Dragon who saved her, not Chat. Honestly, I love how it turned out as it strengthens their friendship, but I still prefer a Marichat alternative. WHERE IS THE MARICHAT PEOPLES???
Final showdown!
Poor statue guard was upset about the damage they caused as an akuma, but Miraculous Ladybiug fixes everything.
Fei learned an important lesson: let justice take its course, not enact revenge. But it was quite funny to have the pawn shop owner be flown away to court in a literal sense.
The bracelet has a renling-like creature, who is just so adorable, especially since they missed Fei and was waiting for the day they would be reunited. Aww!
Ladynoir version of the Moon scene from NYC! Except no dancing, just them challenging each other over who will get to Paris first if they traveled in opposite directions. No one shall ever know we were in Shanghai as civilians lol (Reminds me of my best friend when eating grapes during choral rehearsals)
Marinette, Adrien, Fei, and Uncle Wang enjoying a birthday (?) dinner was wholesome.
I love how Uncle Wang calls them boyfriend and girlfriend because of how they act around each other, yet Marinette and Adrien both deny it. Bruh, these children need to open their fricking eyes! I really wanted to jump through my phone screen!
The Shanghai Vigilantes came to return Marinette's kwagatama necklace. They are so precious even though we thought they were enemies in the trailer.
Even though they were at odds at first, love how the Vigilantes blushed when Fei played the accordion and she's just like "whatever". I stan an asexual queen.
Do I even want to know what Marinette accidentally said when she mispronounced "sister" in Chinese? Based on what Fei said, probably not.
Uh...NOW I WANT TO SEE MORE OF ADRIEN TEACHING MARINETTE CHINESE! While I do take some issue of Adrien (a white French boy) teaching Marinette her culture like most of us had issue with in "Kung Food", I also want to see them interact outside of school and hopefully bond. ML writers need to keep their word otherwise Adrienette stans will riot!
Love how the final scene turned out! Its just *chef's kisses*
Also, the hell with the business trip?? It was mentioned once again IN THE ENDCARD! It might not be as interesting, but I want to think that there was more truth to it.
Also, wifi troubles kept interrupting the show at crucial moments, but okay.
Overall, I live for the Shanghai episode! The animation is just as incredible as the NY special (which I also live for) and I love how this episode has a great focus on Fei and the prodigious. I mean, before the intro, she tells her story. And she has her monologues alongside Marinette's. In many ways, it's refreshing. Also, Ladynoir and Adrienette stans will be satiated with the scenes associated with each ship. Also, I love Fei's character development! And the final scene is wholesome!
I won't lie though: there are a few issues regarding whitewashing Fei's transformation and such. It is important to see these things and as a good friend of mine always says: you can enjoy something while also being critical of it. And that is very important no matter how devotive to something you actually are.
Anyways, we are being well fed with all the Miraculous content and I will see you all very soon! Also, get some sleep peoples! I know some of you aren't sleeping!
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#ml#ml ladybug#mlb#934 posts#ml spoilers#miraculous lb#miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir#miraculous thoughts#miraculous world#miraculous shanghai special#miraculous shanghai#miraculous shanghai the legend of lady dragon#ml shanghai#ml shangai special#ml shanghai spoilers#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#chat noir#uncle wang#fei miraculous#prodigious#934 miraculous thoughts
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Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)
(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)
Words: 4,028
Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)
-----
(1983)
"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.
They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...
"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"
Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.
"That was out of your control, mate."
"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"
"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.
"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.
"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"
Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."
"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"
"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.
"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"
"Sav!"
"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"
A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.
"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.
Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.
"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."
~(5 hours earlier)~
A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.
Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"
The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.
You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."
"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"
That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.
"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.
He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.
"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."
You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."
He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."
He fell quiet.
"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.
"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."
He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.
Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"
"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.
"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."
His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.
"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.
"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."
"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"
"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.
Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.
"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."
Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.
"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."
You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"
"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"
"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."
Joe quietly whined at your declaration.
"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."
The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.
His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"
"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."
"Great. This means she's stronger than me."
You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"
Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."
It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.
Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.
"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"
Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.
He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."
The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.
Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.
It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.
When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.
The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.
Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.
"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.
Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).
"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"
"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."
"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"
"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."
The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.
"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"
Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.
You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.
"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."
***
"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."
"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."
Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.
"What on earth makes you say that?"
"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"
"Really? How so?"
"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."
***
Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.
This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.
To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.
Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.
Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.
That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.
It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.
Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.
Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.
***
"First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."
"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"
"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.
Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.
"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.
"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"
Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.
"She did, didn't she..."
"She definitely did."
Sav was smirking at him now.
Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"
"There's not a doubt in my mind."
"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."
Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.
"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."
Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.
They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.
"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"
Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.
"That's entirely up to you."
***
You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.
After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.
Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.
Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.
Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.
Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.
The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.
"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"
It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.
Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.
"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.
"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."
Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.
"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."
"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."
"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."
"Not you, apparently."
Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.
You wanted to be affectionate with him.
Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"
"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"
"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."
Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.
"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."
You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.
"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"
"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."
Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.
"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."
"What did I do?"
The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.
"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."
"I told you not to worry about it..."
"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."
"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."
Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.
"Oh yeah?" he laughed.
"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."
"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."
"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."
You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."
Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.
The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.
"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."
A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.
You glanced over, "What?"
With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."
"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.
"If it means getting even with you, then yes."
"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"
"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."
That answer was more than enough for you.
Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.
The end
#this took me exactly 359 days to 100% complete g__g#another very rare occurrence where a fic isn't based off a song or has the title stolen from a song#unfortunately the next fic is going to break that streak hah :3D#def leppard#joe elliott#def leppard fanfiction#joe elliott x reader#def leppard x reader#original content#rick savage#sav is a perfect mediator I'm sorry I have him in that role all the damn time orgiwroimvwr#everyone is a dumbass and sav is the keeper of dumbasses#I also spent nearly 4 hours making that moodboard i hope you're happy g_g#I just recycle the same boring joe birthday post every year bc I don't have any ideas nor do I have any resources in order to make-#-something different and/or better
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The Maidens: The Cycle of Life and Death
This post is inspired by @hamliet’s alchemy metas... I know nothing about alchemy, but after discussing it with her, this idea came up and I am sharing it on her behalf too.
In short, in alchemical stories (which RWBY apparently is) there are 3/4 phases. Each phase is linked to a specific color:
1) Nigredo (black)
2) Albedo (white)
3) Citrinitas (yellow)
4) Rubedo (red)
That said, often the yellow phase ends up being fused with the red one, so in most alchemical stories there are only three phases. Now, for each phase there is a major death, so there are usually 3/4 key deaths, each one linked to a specific phase.
For example, in Harry Potter there is
a) Sirius BLACK dying
b) ALBUS Dumbledore dying
c) Harry dying and being carried by RUBEUS Hagrid
Let’s highlight that each one of these deaths is especially resonant and important for the story. Sirius dies when Harry discovers about the prophecy. Dumbledore’s death leads to Harry leaving Hogwarts to look for the Horcruxes and finally Harry’s own death leads to Voldemort’s defeat.
What I mean is that the deaths linked to each phase must be resonant and meaningful either in terms of plot or in terms of themes. They must have weight and be felt both by the audience and by the characters.
So far, in RWBY we have had two such deaths:
Pyrrha’s death is linked to Nigredo, while Penny’s to Albedo. Interestingly, both deaths happened to two (supposed to be) Maidens.
This is interesting on multiple levels.
First of all, I have been asked about the Maidens in RWBY here and here. However, Penny’s death helped me gain a new perspective of their overall meaning.
In the first meta I have written this:
In a sense, the story keeps repeating. Salem kills Ozpin, he is reborn and his daughters are victims of the conflict between them.
Because of this, the four Maidens have become one of the many symbols of this endless cycle, which is clealry breaking its protagonists more and more.
This is well conveyed by the Maidens having a season theme. Seasons are in fact linked to the repetition of time aka one of Ozpin’s motifs.
I still think it is a part of the truth, but as for now I think the framing of the series over the cycle is more nuanced. It is a cycle of death and rebirth:
Goodwitch: The Maidens have existed for thousands of years. But much like in nature, the seasons change. No two summers are alike. When a Maiden dies, her power leaves her body and seeks out a new host, ensuring that the seasons are never lost, and that no individual can hold on to that power forever.
Seasons live and die, but new ones are born. It is a death that leads to a new life and that protects life itself since the Seasons are supposed to be Guardians.
This fits with the actual cycle of seasons where “no two summers are alike”, but that also accompanies humans’ lives and makes many human activities possible.
Secondly, both Pyrrha and Penny’s deaths have to do with the theme of choice, which is central to the series:
Ozpin: Maidens choose themselves.
In particular, Pyrrha and Penny’s final choices are two different declination of this idea. At the same time, they are linked to the theme explored by their respective relic as well (in Pyrrha’s case it means that her link to choice is twofold).
1) As the (supposed to be) Maiden of Choice, Pyrrha is given a choice in the Vault of Choice:
Ozpin: You, Miss Nikos... have a choice to make.
(...)
Ozpin: Are you ready? I... I need to hear you say it.
Pyrrha: Yes.
Ozpin: Thank you, Miss Nikos.
She is given some time to think about it and in the end she chooses to accept her new duty. Still, the power is stolen from her and the choice she was given is negated to her:
Pyrrha: But I can help.
Ozpin: You'll only get in the way.
However, this does not stop her:
Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.
Pyrrha’s death is about doing the right thing even if it comes with a high personal cost. She is able to make the choice to keep fighting against an enemy impossible to defeat an arc before our protagonists are strong enough to make it.
This is why... even if she never receives the powers.. Pyrrha is the true Maiden of Choice of the Vale arc. She does not need the powers because deep down being a Maiden is something deeper than that.
Pyrrha embodies the idea that Maidens choose themselves because she chooses to be a Maiden at Heart and dies true to her choice:
Pyrrha: Do you believe in destiny?
2) As the Maiden of Creation, Penny is created anew in the Vault of Creation:
As I have stated in previous metas Creation as a concept is linked to free will. Creations are free to develop and to change independently from their “creators”. This fits Penny’s transformation, who ultimately gives her back the free will that the virus had stolen:
Penny: I...I must...open the Vault. I, I do not want...Ah!
And in the end she uses her free will to make a specific choice:
Penny: Let me choose this one thing.
I have actually a lot more to say about Penny’s death and final choice, but I will write a longer meta about it, so for now let’s just say it has to do with self-actualization.
Penny embodies the idea that Maidens choose themselves because she chooses who she wants to be and how she wants to live.
What is more, her choice has to do with Creation because she saves Winter’s life and also (symbolically) makes her a whole person as well:
Winter: No, Penny, you were always the real Maiden at heart. I was just a machine. Just... following orders.
Penny: You’re my friend.
Winter: Perhaps, but I’m choosing it now. I’ve made it my own. And I take great pride in it.
Winter: You chose nothing. This was a gift.
At the same time, Penny’s sacrifice also saves the people of Atlas and Mantle who are stranded in Vacuo. If Cinder had stolen the power, they would have all died.
As a final note, we are directly told the themes linked to both Pyrrha and Penny’s death back in volume 5:
Ruby: When Beacon fell, I lost two of my friends: Penny Polendina and Pyrrha Nikos. I didn't know them for very long, but that doesn't change the fact that they were two of the most kind-hearted people I have ever met. But that didn't save them. Pyrrha thought that if there was even the smallest chance of helping someone, then it was a chance worth taking. And because of that, she died fighting a battle she knew she couldn't win. And Penny... was killed... just to make a statement.
Pyrrha died to make the right thing.
Penny died the first time as a result of her being objectified, so the second time she herself chose how to end her life in a way she found meaningful.
In short, Pyrrha and Penny’s deaths can be read as the two deaths linked respectively to Nigredo and Albedo. What is sure is that they are meant to be compared and foiled.
All this leads to a question... will we have other two (or one) major death(s) that will be linked to (the yellow and) red phase(s)? Will they be other Maidens?
As for now, I think it is possible, even if not sure obviously.
First of all, I do not know if we are gonna have a death for Citrinitas since from what I understood usually the yellow phase gets conveyed as a part of the Rubedo one. Moreover, if we have it, it might not be linked to a Maiden. After all, another pattern one could find is that both Pyrrha and Penny died at Beacon and so did Ozpin, so maybe he will be the one to die (once and for all?) in the yellow/red phase. However, as for now, I don’t think so and I am gonna theorize that the yellow and red deaths, if they happen, will have to do with the Maidens and will be other declinations of the themes explored above.
As for now, we know nothing of the Maiden of Destruction, so I am not considering her.
Still, there is another Maiden whose arc was left unsolved and who needs to come back in the story:
3) As the Maiden of Knowledge, Raven is told the truth about herself in the Vault of Knowledge:
Yang: Oh, shut up!! You don't know the first thing about strength! You turn your back on people, you run away when things get too hard, you put others in harm's way instead of yourself!! You might be powerful, but that doesn't make you strong.
And it is possible that this self-knowledge will eventually lead her to make a choice, which is what she has failed to do up until now.
If she chooses to sacrifice herself, her death will be a redemptive one and it might come to embody that Maidens choose themselves because they can always change and become true Maidens.
Finally, there is the Rubedo phase, which is the last phase. If we are gonna have a red death, it should be a key one for the whole series and one which leads to its resolution. As for now, I think there is only one character who can pull it off:
4) Cinder is a key character for the whole story. Personally, I think this volume was a turning point for her, but she failed to learn the lessons she needed to learn. What she did was to take these lessons and to twist them in a hypocritical way:
Cinder: I suppose I have only you to thank for one last lesson… Sometimes, if you want to win…you simply can’t do it alone.
And this has made her even more similar to Salem:
Salem: Why....do...you...keep...coming...back?!
Yang: Why do you?!
Penny: Why did you come back?! Why couldn’t you just learn your lesson?!
I would also like to highlight that so far Cinder has failed to learn the lesson of each relic.
In the Vale Arc, it is implied her concept of Destiny and Choice is different from Pyrrha’s. She wants to be “worthy” and to be chosen. Moreover, her idea of agency is linked to stealing others’, just like she stole the Maiden’s power and Pyrrha’s destiny.
In the Mistral Arc, she receives a warning about her Shadow Hand:
Raven: Aura can't protect your arm, it's Grimm. You turned yourself into a monster just for power.
But she chooses to ignore it.
Finally, in the Atlas Arc she manages to make herself anew. She recreates herself, but fails to truly change.
I am expecting all these failures to come back at her with the Vacuo Arc, which is about Destruction and will probably lead to everything coming together to crush Cinder (the people she used, the Shadow Hand, Salem’s true plan).
Once this happens, I think Ruby will save her with her eyes and will offer her that pity she was never shown as a child. This will lead to Cinder’s final choice which might be a synthesis of all the choices made by the Maidens she killed.
It will be a selfless choice, like Pyrrha’s, in contrast to the selfishness she displayed throughout the series.
It will be a self-actualizing choice, like Penny’s, which will free her from Salem’s shadow and influence
It will also be a redemptive choice, where Cinder finally lives up to her name and becomes the true Fall Maiden.
I am also expecting this choice to somehow solve the conflict or to be a part of the reason why the conflict is solved.
It would also be interesting if the Maidens’ sacrifices become progressively more effective in solving the conflict.
Pyrrha’s death is the most pyrric (obviously). She did not manage to stop Cinder, but barely gained enough time for Ruby to arrive and wound the villain. Still, it is a choice who clearly inspired her friends and I think that in the end it will inspire Cinder as well:
Cinder: You know, Neo, someone once asked me if I believed in destiny. And I'm happy to say I still do.
Penny’s death is framed as a sad, but powerful conclusion to her arc and saved both Winter and the people of Atlas and Mantel. It still did not prevent Salem from taking the relics and did not save the Kingdom.
So, maybe Cinder’s death, if it happens, will be key in saving the world.
This would also fit with the idea that we are going through a journey where we are getting to know the four gifts the Gods gave humanity.
Pyrrha sacrificed herself even before our protagonists received Knowledge, Penny did so after both Knowledge and Creation, while Cinder perhaps will do so after the characters have aquired all the four gifts.
#rwby#rwby spoilers#rwby vol8#rwby meta#rwby theory#pyrrha nikos#penny polendina#raven branwen#cinder fall#my meta
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This is a reply to @90smikewheeler’s response to my post. i was gonna reblog, but it’s too long and i don’t really want to do any more self reblogs lol
This is a pretty big paragraph and some of it is not directly related to the point of my previous post, so I’m ignoring it lol (for now, I may reply to it later.)(If I have the time.)
The whole point of that mall montage was to give El some experience as a teenage girl, going to the mall was not at all damaging for her and she seemed to have a lot of fun. Not to mention how important it was for Jane’s character development. It was also not as dangerous as you might think.
At this point of the narrative, the mf still hadn’t recognized El. This actually happened in ep3, The Case Of The Missing Lifeguard. It was actually a pretty big plot-point: when “Billy” saw El and Max at Heather’s house and recognized her as the girl who hurt him and closed the gate. He was so upset that Will felt his presence more intensely than he had before, being sure for the first time that the mf was back. Also, Billy was the only flayed at this point.
About the Russians being a threat to her: I’m not so sure they knew about El. She was a weapon to be used against the Russians, but they not once mention the existence of a girl with superpowers.
The doctor who helped Hop with El’s adoption told him he should keep her inside for the next year, but nothing happened that was a consequence of Max taking El to the mall.
The spying was not an abuse of her powers. And it did work. They had laughs, they had fun, she was a teenager with powers. Again, it was not a very ethical thing to do, but not because it was a use of her powers. It didn’t harm her at all, she didn’t even ever feel guilty about doing it. Yes, she bleeds through her nose, but it doesn’t seem to phase her.
It’s true that Jane has been abused for her powers, used as a weapon and pushed to her limit, but she was clearly not at her limit here. She was clear not in pain, she was clearly comfortable with the usage of her powers. She was safe, so much so that nothing bad happened as she spied on the boys. El is the one who should decide whether her powers are to be used for silly everyday things, because despite what she’s been led to believe up to the end of se2, they’re hers. Not anyone else’s.
And her abilities caused a lot of indirect pain for herself, but the show itself seems to tell us that yes, they are essentially a gift. In fact, that’s the exact word Kali uses to describe them in The Lost Sister, s2e7.
The way you worded this implies that any of the tragedies that happed later in se3 were consequences of Max’s and El’s mistakes, which is not at all true. Had they not been at the mall, Billy would still be flayed and the Russians would still be out there. Not a single thing went wrong because of how Max took El to the mall, so I’m not sure what your point here is.
She’s not implying that “El IS her powers.” Max was not right in thinking El could take on the world by herself (I’d even go as far as saying this was her only mistake lol), but this doesn’t make her any less of a good friend. What happed is that Max completely idolized El ever since se2, she even showed her a Wonder Woman comic, which definitely was a hint to how Max sees El. She looks up to her, she things El is a real life superhero and she’s not entirely wrong. Jane shouldn’t do things alone, but Max never implied that she is her powers; what she implied is that they should trust her to know her own limits. PLEASE 💀
TLDR: Max never used El for her powers, despite what some might say. This was the point I made in my initial post and it stands.
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The Star Plasma Vessel:
When I first read Gojo’s past arc, Riko Amanai and the whole dynamic created between all of the characters and how fast a strong bond can grow, really interested me.
⚠️Spoiler warning ofc ⚠️
But... I was so confused over the Star Plasma Vessel. I was so confused and thought I missed something because I didn’t even know who Master Tengen was. And the site I was reading the manga didn’t have chapter 72, but after re reading it... the Star Plasma Vessel and Master Tengen are... still suspicious as hell.
So Let’s talk about it!
Who is Master Tengen?
In the Nara Period (710-794) Tengen spread Japanese Buddhism and ‘preached what would become the foundation for Jujutsu sorcerers(JJK.wiki)’. They were first mentioned in chapter 53 by fake Geto.
At this point, the only information about Master Tengen was that of their jujutsu. Jogo asks Fake Geto who’s stronger; Tengen or Gojo? Fake Geto simply states that “it’s immortality not anti-aging” and that Master Tengen doesn’t interfere unless it involves the barrier. He also makes this comparison with a tree? However, I’m not sure if the tree metaphor is comparing Tengen and Gojo or describing/comparing Tengen’s technique.
During Gojo’s Past Arc, we find out more about the specifics of their jujutsu and how powerful and important they are. Tengen’s jujutsu is immortality but it doesn’t stop the aging process. The cursed technique tries to switch bodies roughly every 500 years. If Tengen doesn’t get a vessel, then they will ‘evolve’ or ascend to a higher state where they have no will. If in this higher state, they could become a threat to humanity. If they do get a vessel, then they rewrite the body’s genetic information.
On top of all that, Master Tengen’s ability strengthens the barriers that protect the jujutsu world and keep the amount of curses limited to Japan. The Jujutsu world wouldn’t be working the way it has for so long if not for these barriers. It isn’t specified whatsoever what Tengen would do that would make them a threat to humanity, but my guess is that it would have something to do with allowing curses to run free and unrestricted.
In the reccent chapters, Fake!Geto used a remote activation technique that Yuki orginially mistakes as an attack on the barrier. He’s disrupting the balance that’s for sure, but I believe that he could have broken the barrier. He had the option and probably the power, but he didn’t. This implies that Tengen is a force that even our antagonists fear or don’t wish to get involve. They said that they were stabilized even after Riko Amanai died, but... considering Ep. 18 where Principal Yaga goes ‘I’m going to see Tengen” after the Curses break onto school grounds implies that maybe he is weaker. Gojo even talks about how in the end, Tengen’s barrier hides rather than protects and that it’s weak once infiltrated, which raises a lot of questions. And maybe Tengen plays a part in this whole scheme because of the talk of how much chaos the world would be thrown into had the barrier been broken by Yuki and Fake!Geto’s questionable response.
Who is Riko Amanai?
Riko Amanai was the Star Plasma Vessel in 2006. It is implied that she was pretty wealthy, and when she was younger, her parent’s died in a car crash, but she survived. Between the years of her parents’ death and her death, she was cared for by Misato Kuroi, a non combatant jujutsu sorcerer who can fight curses, well educated in the curse world, but might not be able to use cursed energy/techniques. It is unknown with who Misato is affiliated with and if Amanai became aware of her status as the Star Plasma Vessel at an early age.
When first introduced, she is very willing and seemingly okay with the merger. When Gojo expresses his surprise over Amanai’s reaction to her attempted assassination attempt and the whole concept of the merger, she simply proclaims “Master Tengen is me and I am Master Tengen!”. She then goes on a rant about how the merger and death are different things and how after the Merger, her will and spirit will live on. However, this statement was contradicted earlier, when Yaga describes the Merger as an ‘eraser’. Later, Geto even talks about how after the Merger, Amanai will just be forced to be beneath the school and has to get rid of all mortal connections. It just happens to be that, she has no relations besides Kuroi... suspicious....
Riko is spunky and fiesty. During her rant, Gojo and Geto comment on how she probably has no friends based on how she talks. She is clumsy, and honestly just... funny. I keep on hoping someone in the main timeline says something similar to the “Liar, you look a liar... and whats with those bangs” line in reference to Fake!Geto. Getting back at hand, Riko is also brave. When Kuroi gets kidnapped, she insists on coming with Geto and Gojo despite having no fighting or curse capability. When nervous or in an emotional confrontation, she has a habit of scrunching up part of her skirt in her fists.
Despite putting up an image of content with the Merger, Riko is a normal teenage girl. Moments before her death, Riko’s inner monologue focuses on how she was always told she was ‘special’ and ‘different’, and how despite everything that happened, she always survived. Now, being told that you are special and different at a young age is something that affects people heavily. Weather it is being told that you are a ‘gifted’ kid or that you are just ‘different’ can lead to a lot of self separation from others. One might see themselves as better than others because of these skills or believe that someone else like them can’t exist and struggle when meeting someone similar or in a similar situation. Before her appearance in the story, it is implied that she had good relationships with her friends, classmates, and Kuroi, but didn’t really value them as much as she should due to this idea of being special or having a destiny. (Damn, a Gojo parallel maybe hmm) This led her to be really lonely and she believed that she would be okay with the merger because she thought that the loneliness and sadness would disappear. In the last three days of her life, Riko got to spend time with her friends at schools (the last she saw of them was them teasing her for her ‘hot cousin’ Gojo), spending time with Kuroi, and developing a strong bond with Gojo and Geto. She realizes that the sadness and loneliness could and would leave as long as she had strong bonds with others.
“I want to be with everyone more! I want to go to more places, see more things with everyone... More!!”
After Riko comes to terms with what she really wants, she dies at the hands of Toji Fushiguro/Zenin. Her death sets an entire series of misfortunes and rifts between the Strongest Duo and she serves her part as... well the plot tool she doubles as.
A Choice:
Before her death, Riko is given a choice. Geto gives her instructions on where to go for the merger, before saying “Or you can turn back and return home with Kuroi.”. He gives her a choice. A choice to go through with the merger and ensure stability despite no one truly knowing what is happening, or a choice to live a life of her choice. We find out that Yaga gave hints that there is something wrong with the Merger due to the way that he described it as an ‘erasure’ and how he isn’t one to ‘beat around the bush’.
We find out that Gojo and Geto decided beforehand that if the Vessel wasn’t willing to go through with the merger, they wouldn’t do it and that they, the strongest duo, would fight Master Tengen. Gojo and Geto were the strongest and Geto says that no matter what she chooses, they will protect her future.
Riko decides to go home, wherever that may be, instead of the merger, but of course, dies.
As established before, this whole concept is suspicious. Yaga knew there was something wrong with this. Gojo and Geto both knew there was something wrong with this.
In chapter 138, Yuki goes “it’s about time I confront Tengen.” This opens a box with even more questions. What does she mean by this? Why is it ‘about time’ and how casual is it for sorcerers to talk to Tengen? As mentioned before, Yaga is apparently in communication with Tengen when he needs to be. And Yuki is the one who told Geto that Tengen was stabilized after the failed merger and that the vessel was probably reborn...
Conclusion:
I honestly hope more than predict that we get to meet Riko Amanai reborn or the next SPV. Tengen is a name that is getting thrown around recently so there is no way that he is just.. not going to be relevant in the coming chapters.
I know a lot of people have found comparisons to Buddhism and the Jujutsu world, and I am not that well educated in this area, I do know that rebirth plays a big role in it. Rebirth is viewed as a negative cycle one should want to escape from called “Samsara”. I personally headcanon/theorize that the Star Plasma Vessel and the soul of Riko Amanai, is one that gets reborn constantly and is stuck in a cycle where they experience a lonely and sad life before getting a taste of a full and happy one right before the merger. In terms of the 500 year thing, the Star Plasma vessel would have first been born( created?) during sometime in the in between of the Heian Period (794-1184) and the Muromachi Period (1392-1573). The Heian Period is implied to be the Golden Age of Curses and when Sukuna was in full power despite being known in history as a peaceful time for Japan, so I definitely believe that there is some connection if my math is correct (which it probably isn’t. I hate math).
Right now in the story, vessels... are really important. According to Fake Geto, he released what is like a thousand Itadori Yujis, so I think that bringing back the star Plasma vessel would fit really well. However, they would roughly be around 12 years of age in 2018, meaning that they might not even be able to do the merger because I think the vessel has to be sixteen and older and have a full moon.
(Edit: added 4/1/21: Also, it might not be Riko reborn, but just another Star Plasma Vessel. Like Yuki says that either they had another vessel at hand, or another one was already born. So like... the new SPV might be the age of our main characters or possibly even one of the characters we already know!)
I also think it will be really interesting to see how it would play off with the fact that Gojo/Geto are no longer involved in the story. Gojo is sealed and the real Geto is dead. When thinking about how the SPV would be in the story, I imagined a picture of a younger girl in a uniform and with a braid holding the sealed Gojo and staring up at the fake Geto. I’m not over what happened to Riko Amanai if you haven’t noticed and I feel like she deserves to have this other chance. I also think it’ll set up the eventual meeting or confrontaion with Master Tengen which I’m personally dying to see.
So what do you think? I don’t really have any solid predictions other than that the SPV reborn will make an appearance, but what about you? Do you guys think Tengen will play a big part? Do you think Tengen may end up becoming a big threat or a good ally? Do you guys want to see Itadori and the SPV interact? Or am I just over analyzing this?
Thanks for reading!
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk spoilers#gojo satoru#geto suguru#riko amanai#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk theory#yaga masamichi#yuki tsukumo#jjk brainrot#kuroi#jjk mangacap#fun times in jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen geto
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Something I Can Never Have
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4
Chapter 5 of Saviin’ika
Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader
Summary: After days pass without you seeing your blue Mandalorian, you force yourself to make a promise that will ultimately strip you of your happiness, though you find it hard to stay true to your word. In the process, you also meet an unlikely companion that will teach you that not everything on Nevarro is ugly.
Rating: M for darker themes pertaining to abuse, animal neglect/fur trading, unresolved sexual tension.
Word Count: 10,000 (at least there’s finally plot lol)
Warnings: This chapter definitely starts off very dark and has descriptions of intense injuries. There’s pretty graphic descriptions of manipulation and abuse (I tried to keep all actual descriptions of the father actually abusing saviin’ika very non-detailed, but still, please read with caution if such topics make you upset and DM me if you want a safe summary of the chapter <3). There’s also a brief mention of animal neglect, but again, nothing descriptive at all!
A/N will be at end of the chapter!
“You know everything I do is for your own good, right? To make you stronger?”
You force yourself to nod when a crooked finger presses cruelly against the small gash at your hairline and you find yourself desperately missing the much softer touch of your Mandalorian; a few droplets of blood trickle past your brow and into the soft divot of your eyelid.
“Then why do you never learn?”
“I... I don’t know,” You whisper weakly, your body limp and weak against the uncomfortable cot, “I am sorry.”
“I only hurt you because I care about you--because I want you to be better. Do you understand that? If you just did your fucking job and listened to what I say, I wouldn’t have to hurt you all the time,” Your father informs you, though you’re certain he’s trying to rationalize his own actions so he can sleep at night, rather than actually comforting you, “I don’t want you wasting your time on someone who doesn’t care about you, not when you’re needed here and nowhere else. How long has it been since you’ve seen him? Two or three weeks?”
Your chest aches at his cruel words.
Sixteen days.
It’s been sixteen days since you’ve seen him and you’re certain it’s your own fault he stopped showing up without a word as to why.
After your companion had taken you to see the waterfalls, your father had been utterly infuriated upon seeing you with the Beskar-clad warrior, lengthening your shifts from easier twelve hour days to shifts that nearly lasted twenty hours. After finally emerging from the infirmary nearly twenty hours after he’d taken you to watch the sunrise, you had been absolutely heartbroken to find that your blue Mandalorian had not been waiting for you in the wee hours of the morning. After nearly half an hour of standing around, you had shrugged it off and slowly made your way home; you honestly wouldn’t expect anyone to wait for you that long and figured you would see him at some point later.
But then he’s not there the next day when you get off at a somewhat reasonable time--or the night after that.
Thinking that perhaps an emergency had arose in his tribe, you find yourself waiting against his usual spot the following nights when you are finally released from your agonizingly long shifts.
Still, he does not show up and while your faith in the Mandalorian is slightly shaken, it is not completely broken and hope still flickers in your chest like a tiny spark.
“It has been however many fucking days and you think he’s going to come back for an incompetent girl? He’s probably already forgotten about you. Why did the Maker curse me by having you as my last living blood?”
Your eyelids slip shut at the same time a tear trickles along the bridge of your nose and lands somewhere on the stiff cot that you physically cannot lift yourself from; you think you’ve heard him utter those words more times than he’s ever said ‘I love you’ or, ‘I’m proud of you’. You try to think of the last time he’s said something kind or encouraging to you, but your mind is foggy and the room around you is spinning wildly, breaths leaving your lungs in erratic little patterns that you have no control over.
You can’t even remember the last time he attempted a small smile in your direction, let alone a reassuring sentiment.
You’re certain that at least one of your ribs is fractured or broken and you vaguely remember patching up your blue Mandalorian upon your initial meeting, though that moment seems so far away and out of reach. You swear you can still feel how scalding his skin had been underneath your skilled hands and how the muscles in his abdomen had contracted and tensed upon feeling you rubbing that salve against sore ribs.
Your dry throat constricts and you force a sob away when you remember that night he had carried you home and tenderly treated your wounds while you were in and out of sleep, going so far to even take out your braids and massage your tender scalp.
You ponder what he would say or think upon seeing your current state--curled up on your own medical cot, bruised and battered and unable to work. Even if he found you to be pitiful, you’re certain he would manage to make you feel better and you hate that the ache in your chest is worse than the one in your bruised ribs.
“Look at me when I speak to you,” He furiously demands and you reluctantly crack your eyelids open, your head aching from the fluorescent lighting that assaults your sensitive eyes; you think you must be concussed, “You’re wasting your time with the Mandalorian, you know that deep down, don’t you? Do you even realize what they would do to a weak woman like yourself? His people are known to be ruthless and unforgiving towards outsiders. He’s going to turn his back on you or take advantage of--”
You tune him out after that.
Partially because you don’t wish to listen to the lies that he spits like venom and also because the ringing in your ears makes it hard to hear much of anything; you don’t want to hear what kind of torture he believes that the Mandalorians would ever inflict upon people like you when you know it to be false. It actually upsets you to the point of nausea--that another man who has hurt you so badly could attempt to convince you that the only man who’s ever shown you kindness and that you are absolutely infatuated with was against you--that he only wishes to harm you in the cruelest way possible.
Your Mandalorian--cruel?
Impossible.
You think you know your selfless, caring Mandalorian better than you know the back of your own hand and the horrific assumptions your father implies causes a terrible ache to form in the pit of your stomach--a disgusting feeling that makes you want to retaliate, though you force yourself to calm down. You truly do not want to intensify his anger; not when your ribs are aching something awful and the pounding in the back of your skull throbs more achingly the more he spews insults.
Ignoring the anger that quells deep in the pit of your belly, you let your eyes slip shut again and think of blue Beskar instead, or how lovely you think his visor looks in the moonlight, despite not being able to see what he truly looks like underneath his helmet. Though he threatened the life of the very man who hurt you so badly that you currently can’t even move, you think him to have the kindest soul you’ve ever known and you pray that he isn’t too upset when you see him again.
If you see him again.
As your father continues to remind you that you don't deserve the little happy moments that the Mandalorian has gifted you with in such a short amount of time, you try to ignore the fact your companion lied to you. You’re almost certain that it’s not his fault--that something complicated must have developed within his beloved tribe and though you worry for him, you also can’t help but to let your father’s venomous words manipulate your mind into briefly thinking that he’s completely abandoned you.
Usually your injuries are easy to hide with the long sleeves of your dress or longer leggings, but you can feel the contusion that's currently forming around your eye, as well as the blood that's starting to dry and grow crusty at your hairline. You’re only slightly grateful he hasn’t been there for you the past few days, knowing he would absolutely loathe to see what’s become of you and how messy and tangled your usually soft mane has become--
How you haven’t even bothered to decorate your messy braids with vibrant flowers because you no longer feel joy upon wearing them.
You think the skin that's visible must resemble your Mandalorian's dark blue armor and you find the irony of the realization sick and cruel; it’s unfair because you’ve always thought his scuffed up armor to be beautiful, but there’s nothing beautiful about your current state.
If you possessed even a fraction of the Mandalorian’s strength, you would not be in this painful position and you wished you were somewhere so far away where your father's violent nature was nothing more than a distant, faded memory. You think of the planet your Mando had described to you just weeks ago--Felucia--and vibrant flora that towers over the heavy-infantry warrior; you wonder if he had been making the story up to cheer you up, though you know him to be an honest man.
“Maybe one day I will have the chance to take you there, mesh’la.”
The mere thought of traveling among the stars with the warrior is enough to subdue the pain that’s coursing through your bruised body and your lips barely stretch into a tiny smile; you know it’s something that will most likely come to fruition, but perhaps if you get lucky, it will come to you in the form of a lovely dream one night.
“Clean yourself and get up,” Your father grunts upon realizing that you’ve been ignoring his deprecating speech, “You have a long shift today.”
“My head though,” You grimace when his fingers curl into fists, tears burning something fierce in your eyes at the thought of simply moving, let alone working a full shift in your current state, “I--I think I’m concussed.”
“If you have the energy to complain, then you have the energy to work,” He hisses and you let out a pained yelp when he roughly grabs your elbow and yanks you into a sitting position; the room spins around you and bile rises in your esophagus, “You should be thanking me for not breaking anything important, like your hands or legs. You gonna thank me? Or you gonna keep being an ungrateful bitch all the time?”
You clench your jaw and swallow the lump in your throat, feeling absolutely pathetic as you speak through your teeth, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” He spats and you cringe when you smell the alcohol and spice on his breath, “I will not have you disrespecting me when I’ve done so much for you. You’re going to stop seeing the Mandalorian if he shows back up again, okay? I don’t need him filling your head with such foolish fantasies and thoughts, especially when he’s distracting you from your job so much.”
“Father, please,” You beg, no longer caring about sounding so feeble because nothing leaves you feeling more bereft of all hope than the thought of not seeing your kindhearted Mandalorian if he chooses to ever come back “I promise I’ll be better and I’ll stop talking back all the time! Please, don’t make me do this. I’ll be a better daughter if you just--”
“If I just what?” He scoffs, sounding disgusted and you think his next words are probably the most heart-shattering words he’s ever uttered, “There is nothing I could do--nothing you could do--to ever make you be a better daughter.”
Tears trickle down your bruised cheeks as you force yourself not to sob, “Please don’t take him away from me.”
“Your Mandalorian has already given up on you, yet you try to defend him? If he truly cared, he would have been here for you days ago. Your cowardly warrior does not care for you like I do,” Your tears don’t affect him--they never have--and he almost seems amused as he wraps his dirty fingers around your wrist, squeezing until you cry out from the pain, “Don’t make me break your hands, little one,” He warns and you ponder how someone could be so cruel as to rob you of two of the only things that bring you the most joy, “They may bring in a lot of credits for me, but I would not be sad about breaking one or two fingers.”
It hurts to breathe, let alone cry, and you somehow manage to subdue your tears, though you have not felt such devastation in years. The pain in your ribs and the back of your skull is nothing more than a flicker of a thought as you contemplate what it is he wants you to give up. The anger you felt earlier upon hearing him talk so horrifically about your Mandalorian is nothing to the flames that currently dance wildly in your belly, making you feel absolutely feral and resentful towards your only living family.
“Don’t worry,” He coos when you sniffle and struggle to force your sobs away, “It wouldn’t be enough to keep you from doing your job, just enough to get the point across.”
Your body shakes with breathless, silent sobs that cause your ribs burn and throb in absolute agony, though you think your father’s words hurt far worse.
“No, mesh’la,” You remember your companion’s response upon hearing how you insisted that your father was family and didn’t deserve to be harmed, “He is a monster that deserves to feel shame for what he’s done to his own blood.”
“You really are a monster,” You speak the realization out loud, as if all the past abuse hadn’t been a clear indicator of that, “How could you be so cruel to your own daughter?”
He scoffs and finally releases your wrist from his painful grip, “I don’t have a daughter, just an incompetent nurse who can’t properly do her job because she’s too busy daydreaming about a future she’ll never have. Forget the Mandalorian and focus on your job, or else I’ll really make things far more miserable for the two of you and make sure you never help another fucking patient for the rest of your life.”
“You may be able to do this to me, but he would not let you lay a hand on him.”
“I can hurt him in other ways,” The cruel man reassures you, something dark and ruthless glimmering in his dark eyes; you wonder how a man can be filled with so much hatred and disgust towards their only blood, “If he cares for you as much as you think he does, then I think he wouldn’t be too happy if you suddenly disappeared, if he thought you ran away. Shit, perhaps he just wouldn’t care at all.”
You’re certain it’s a threat against your life, but the way he says it so nonchalantly fills you with utter resentment towards him and your chest heaves. You think back to when the infirmary had been robbed a couple months ago and how the bandit threatening your life had held a blaster to your forehead, but that seems like nothing compared to your father’s violent promise. Though you haven’t seen your Mandalorian in over two weeks and there’s a chance that he’s already tired himself of you, the thought of him showing up one night to simply find out that you ‘ran away’--well, you’re certain he wouldn’t believe a word that comes out of your father’s mouth.
He wouldn’t, right?
...Right?
You’re not sure what thought is worse, your Mandalorian feeling betrayed at the thought you would simply take off without a word or his reaction upon finding your lifeless body wherever your father would dump it, should he be the one to discover it.
“He would kill you,” You weakly inform him, though you feel that you have already lost this fight, “He already wants to.”
“I have connections too, little one,” He refutes easily and you know he’s only telling the truth by the way he smirks, “Ones much more powerful than a coward who chooses to live a life hidden in the shadows.”
Your fingers loosely curl into a fist at the insult, but you remain silent when you see his own hands form into much tighter fists.
“Forget him,” The cruel man repeats in a hushed growl and you refuse to meet his angry glare, “Or else you will both regret it.”
The words hurt more than his fists and you loathe that your voice cracks when you speak in a broken whisper, “Yes father.”
“Now, get up and get to work--you look like a damn mess.”
You weakly nod and tiredly wipe a hand down your face as your father leaves your office with the slam of a door, making you flinch at the aggressive action. You wince upon feeling the new bruises splayed across your skin and carefully slide off the medical cot, gripping the metal railing with stiff fingers and pressing your other hand to your aching ribs. Wearily, you make your way to the mirror that sits on your desk and squeeze your eyes shut upon seeing purple and blue bruises covering nearly half of your face, along with your neck and jaw.
You think you look just as bad as you feel.
After washing your hands and retrieving your suture kit, you slowly sink into your chair and begin the painful process of cleaning and stitching the gash at your hairline. The pain that comes with the horrific sensation of a long, hooked needle piercing your skin and tugging bloodied skin back together is pretty intense, it’s nothing compared to the agony that threatens to rip you apart when it dawns on you that your father truly expects you to forget the Mandalorian, as though he’s some sort of toy that you’ve outgrown.
“Why me?” You question nobody in particular, or perhaps the Maker that has cruelly elected you to such a painful life, “Stars... why me?”
Even though your vision blurs with tears and the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is damn near incapacitating, you continue to stitch and treat your own wounds, and you grow bitter upon realizing you’re your own patient. This is not what you envisioned when your mother decided to teach you everything she knew, hoping that someday you would have the same skills she possessed, though she was far more of a talented nurse than you could ever hope to be.
You don’t remember much of your mother, nor her soft voice and kindhearted touch, but as you finish tending to your wounds and force yourself to forget the blue Mandalorian that never truly leaves your mind, you focus on the patients that slowly trickle in and out of the infirmary for the next twenty hours or so. You’re far too injured to be working and even though your vision is doubled and speckled by black dots, you force yourself to focus and do your job. Only a few mention your new wounds, but when you insist that you were simply mugged the night before, they promptly drop the subject and you continue with your day as best as you’re physically able to.
As you find yourself thinking of your Mandalorian’s deep baritone and how he would hold you like it was pure instinct, you realize now what the warrior truly meant when he spoke of you feeling homesick for a home you had never even known.
You think the warmth and safety of the blue Mandalorian’s arms are the closest you’ll ever know to having a home and it is the only think that gets you through the most painful shift of your life.
When your shift ends eighteen hours later, black spots dot your vision and you can barely breathe with the intense, agonizing pain in your side.
You only make it a few buildings past the infirmary, nearly passing the dirty cantina you’ve known a few of your scummy regulars to frequent when you hear it.
It starts off as a high-pitched whine that eventually dissolves into pained whimpers that wrack your heart and pique your undying curiosity.
Despite the exhaustion that bleeds into every single one of your senses, the painfully heart wrenching noises of a creature beckoning for you to help it overpowers any other rational thought that your concussed mind can possibly conjure.
You know how absolutely dangerous the village is at this hour, but something about the hopeless whimpers combined with the fluorescent red eyes that seem to reflect underneath the moonlight absolutely haunts you. Though it’s difficult to make out anything in the dark, you’re very much aware of how desperate the strange creature sounds like it’s being tortured and despite the traumatizing events of the day you’ve just experienced, your natural instincts have you making your way to the helpless animal.
As you get closer, it reluctantly emerges from the safety of the dark corner it has been hiding in and you gasp out loud at the strange, yet astonishing sight in front of you.
The ethereal moonlight seems to reflect off of the creature’s gorgeous crystalline coat and you press the back of your hand to your mouth when you realize the poor animal is tied up to a kriffing dumpster on the outside of a disgusting cantina.
How could anyone tether something so absolutely beautiful to something so dirty?
You nearly sob and your heart aches something fierce as you cautiously make your way over to the whimpering creature, it’s bright crimson eyes seeming to glow in the darkness of the night and you hesitate when it lets out a shrill noise as it moves in a way that must cause intense pain.
The tiny cub shakes its beautiful coat and you startle a little when you hear the soft clinking of crystals jangling against one another, its coat seeming to be clad with some sort of stunning, reflective mineral. You’ve never seen something so ghostly or intangible and you raise your brows when the creature politely sits on its hind legs and stares up at you, its front paw lifted off the ground and you realize it must be injured if it refuses to support any weight on the wounded appendage.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” You coo, utterly entranced, but determined to help what seems to be such an innocent, beautiful creature; despite the horrific pain in your own ribs, you slowly sink to your knees and hold a soft hand out for the cute cub to sniff, “I only want to help you.”
The cub tilts its head to the side and you nearly giggle at how big its ears seem compared to its little head; the peaks of the crystalline ears look dangerously sharp and you remind yourself that this is a feral animal that could easily deal some serious damage upon feeling threatened. Keeping that in mind, you slowly reach into the pouch at your hip where you think you still have some sort of sustenance left over from your meek lunch.
Clumsily, the beautiful creature hobbles forward and eagerly accepts the piece of jerky you’re offering. For the first time since parting ways with your Mandalorian sixteen days ago, you find yourself grinning when the fox-like creature makes a hacking noise, as if it expects some sort of luxurious cuisine, rather than dried out meat.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” You murmur, earning a curious tilt of the head from the clearly neglected animal, and your grin melts into a sad frown as you move to untie the thick rope that’s wrapped like a vice around its neck; it flinches severely and you think you understand its fear all too well, “It’s okay, I’m going to get you back to the infirmary and fix up that leg. I only wish to help, I promise.”
Something about the soft determination laced in your quiet voice must resonate with the creature, because it’s soulful, crimson eyes blink slowly up at youas it plops down and heaves a tired sigh. Using the vibroblade the blue Mandalorian had given you over a month ago, you carefully cut through the thick rope and your heart breaks when you realize the pale flesh underneath is absolutely rubbed raw and slightly bloody.
“Shh, it’s okay,” You coo when it lets out a little whine as you inspect the extent of its injuries, though they seem fairly minor, “I’m going to take care of you, I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
You smile sympathetically and lean forward to carefully pick up the cub, marveling at how tiny the creature is and loathing that you can feel its ribs, even underneath its rocky coat. Slowly, you rise with the strange animal cradled cozily in your arms and ignore the pain in your ribs as you gently scratch its rocky chin. You’re met with the pleasant sound of a happy little shriek and you can’t stop yourself from giggling, not even noticing the sound of shuffling from behind you, nor the soft click of a weapon pointed in your direction.
“Drop the vulptex right now.”
You turn around so fast that you nearly knock yourself off balance, gasping when you realize the source of the voice belongs to a Trandoshan that towers over you by more than a foot; you tremble at how terrifying the reptilian species is. He’s pointing a rusty blaster right between your brows and you think that this day can’t possibly get any worse, what with your injuries, your father’s haunting words, and your Mandalorian’s continuous absence.
As if it senses your fear and sadness, along with the severity of the situation, the creature in your arms--the vulptex--whines a little and tucks its wet snout against the crook of your neck.
“Drop the mutt,” The Trandoshan hisses, his Basic a little choppy and slurred as he staggers closer until the cold barrel of his weapon is pressed firmly against your forehead; you’re shocked that you manage to not tear up from fear alone as you stare into his emotionless yellow eyes.
“I would not surrender this abused creature so easily--not when your intentions are cruel,” You whisper, grunting a little when he shoves the blaster against you and urges you backwards into the stone wall, the back of your already aching skull colliding against the unforgiving surface, “Why would you own such a beautiful animal, only to harm it?”
“You think I actually care about the damn noisy thing?” He scoffs, eyes darting down to the shaking creature that you hold so protectively to your chest, “Her coat right now could easily earn me over two thousand credits; I don’t give a shit if she’s hurt or not, I only care about the pretty reward she will bring me.”
You glare fiercely at him, hating that your eyes fill with tears simply from the thought of the precious creature being bred and born for no other purpose than the cruel intentions of a sick man. Unconsciously, you hold the vulptex tighter against you, hating the little squeaks and whimpers she lets out, as though she’s aware of the torture she will endure if she ends up in the hands of this monster.
“Hand it over and I won’t hurt you,” He steps closer until his scaly body is pressed against yours and it all feels wrong and gross and you force your mind to go anywhere else than the wall of a dirty cantina, “Though I don’t think I would mind seeing you with more bruises, little one--seems like I’m not the first one you’ve manage to piss off today.”
For the umpteenth time that day, anger swells like a grave wound in the pit of your stomach and you hate that it only makes your tears burn hotter in your eyes, leaving a trail of scorching fire down your cheek. You cringe when the Trandoshan reaches forward to grab your bruised face and you’re hasty and panicked as you speak up before he can do anymore damage to your already wounded skin.
“Put the blaster down and I’ll give her back, I swear!”
He makes a strange hissing noise and grips your bruised cheeks harder, making you cry out in pain, “This is not a negotiation, little one. Just hand over the fucking mutt and I might let you leave in one piece.”
Though your voice shakes, you somehow steel your nerves and stand your ground, “I will give you your animal once you put down the blaster. How do I know you won’t just shoot me dead as soon as I hand her over?” You question, realizing that the confusion in your voice must affect him severely and when you speak up again, your voice is filled with fury.
“Put. It. Down.”
“Only because your anger is amusing.”
The Trandoshan clicks his tongue angrily at you and lets out the most vicious growl you’ve ever heard, though you must be convincing enough because he finally eases his body off of your much smaller one. Your heart pounds frantically in your chest as you watch him bend down a little to holster the unforgiving weapon and you remember what your Mandalorian had once told you in regards to defending yourself against enemies larger than you.
Without really thinking of the consequences, you promptly bring your knee up into the enormous Trandoshan’s groin, cringing at the loud yelp the man lets out and you further the damage by swinging your calf upwards when he nearly collapses, your ankle colliding with what you’re sure is his most sensitive appendage.
The fox-like creature in your arms whines and squeaks profusely as you take advantage of the situation by sprinting to the end of the alleyway where you know you can make a quick escape into the infirmary that’s just a few buildings away from your current location.
Your feet move before your mind even registers your actions and all that you know is that your cruel attacker is bent down at the waist, nearly on his knees and crying out in pain as you quickly sprint as fast as your aching legs will allow you to. Pain is radiating throughout your entire body, but you ignore it as you focus your entire being on getting out of a dangerous situation in one piece.
You think you’re safe and in the clear when a massive arm wraps tightly around your waist and tugs you close to them, causing you to cry out in pain and desperation as you angrily kick your legs about. In a furious rage, you shriek and thrash against the impossibly tight grasp your new attacker has on you and it fills you with utter fury; it’s the third time today that someone’s hurt you and something about the realization fills you with resentment and grief.
Barely registering the familiar baritone that attempts to calm you in a softer, exasperated tone, you thrash wildly against the arm that holds you to an unyielding chest. It’s familiar, but you’re certain that your mind is playing cruel tricks on you and you are not willing to give in so easily to your captor.
“Let me go!” You shriek, absolutely blinded by fear and terror to register that the one holding you to his chest is your only other companion--the only man you’ve ever trusted. His arm is wrapped around the worst of your bruising and you feel as though you're being crushed so heavily by the weight of your own consequences, more so than his armor.
"Shh, It's me," The familiar voice shushes you and you feel shame that you didn't recognize it earlier, that you didn’t even realize it was Beskar digging into your broken body, "I've got you--you're safe. Please don’t… don’t cry, mesh’la. Shit, please don’t cry--it’s just me."
‘It’s just me.’
He says it like you haven’t been waiting for him every night for weeks and you nearly sob at how unconcerned he sounds when you spent so much time terrified that he had simply abandoned you or had gotten gravely injured.
Before you can even think about weakly asking him why he didn't show up all those nights ago, another voice--a much angrier one--echoes from down the sidewalk. You're not sure whether your shakiness is from fear or adrenaline, but the warrior doesn't lessen his grip and holds your back tightly to his Beskar-clad chest. You’re grateful when he removes his arm from around your tender ribs, deciding that just above your chest seems like a better option and if you weren’t so shaken up, you’d blush upon feeling his fingers gently squeeze your shoulder in a comforting way.
"You fucking little--"
Immediately, your attacker’s angry tone dies down as he realizes that someone new has entered the altercation, immediately spotting the irritated Mandalorian that’s holding you and the ethereal creature securely with one arm, his other stretched past your head as he steadily aims a long blaster in the Trandoshan's direction. Though the intimidating criminal stands just as tall as the blue heavy-infantry warrior, you're certain that he's not nearly as broad or as intimidating.
Definitely not as skilled in his drunken stupor.
Your attacker's eyes widen just a fraction upon realizing who's currently holding you and your breath catches in your throat when he refuses to lower his blaster--would he really be so foolish to challenge someone who was trained from childhood to be a skilled warrior? You feel the Mandalorian fist the material of your dress that covers your shoulder and if you weren't so focused on the tense situation, you would have complained about the burning pain that shoots through your side at how closely he holds you to him to his Beskar chest. Swiftly and not unkindly in the slightest, the warrior gently urges you behind him and you’re quick to let out a deep exhale that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in since he initially grabbed you.
"I don't want any trouble, Mando," The Trandoshan's voice drops, as though he can sense the anger rolling off of your Mandalorian's Beskar, "I just want the vulptex back--the girl is a thief and I want my reward."
“Thief, huh?” The blue warrior cocks his head to the side, like he's amused by the thought of you committing any sort of crime, "Seems to me like you're the thief. Vulptices only reside on Crait and are protected by law, even in the Outer Rim. I’m sure you already know that though."
“Since when do Mandalorians have morals?”
Your Mandalorian doesn’t say anything in response and you think that his silence is far more fearful than whatever else he could have said in retaliation. His leather-clad hand slowly reaches behind him and your cheeks burn something painfully fierce when you realize he’s reaching out for you, as though he’s worried that you’ve somehow vanished or that your visible injuries are because of the Trandoshan.
Despite the promise you made to your father earlier, you’re unable to resist the urge to reach out for him as well. As your fingers intertwine with his and you give them a gentle squeeze, your father’s words haunt you and tears fill your eyes when you remember you’re going to have to break off the tender relationship you’ve somehow formed with him in such a short amount of time. You thought that nothing would hurt worse than convincing your father that you would simply focus on work, rather than your Mandalorian, but now that he’s actually there and holding your hand like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever held?
You’re absolutely terrified that your heart is going to break into hundreds of piercing shards and somehow hurt him, even with the protection of his precious Beskar armor.
Upon realizing that the heavy-infantry Mandalorian isn’t going to relent, your attacker seems to falter and finally lowers his blaster upon hearing the warrior’s next words.
“I’m sure a fur-trader like yourself would have a pretty big bounty on their head,” A squeeze of your own hand fills you with warmth and reassurance as he argues with the cruel man that holds such ill intentions for such a beautiful creature, "I would not mind handing you over to a bounty hunter and seeing how much I could make off of someone like yourself."
“You really don’t want to do this, Mando,” The Trandoshan hisses and you realize that he’s trying to convince your Mandalorian to hand you and your newest companion over, “They’re not worth it--I promise.”
Thick fingers curl tightly around yours and you hate that your heart skips a little when you realize he’s silently reassuring you that you are worth all this trouble, a notion that’s difficult for you to truly believe after the past few weeks. You want to be upset with him for disappearing without a word, but you’re certain that he must have a reasonable explanation and fear churns in the pit of your belly when you remind yourself of the promise you’d made to your father earlier.
“I think he wouldn’t be too happy if you suddenly disappeared, if he thought you ran away…”
Tears burn painfully in your eyes as the Trandoshan relents with a furious growl, sending you one last glare as he angrily makes his way back into the cantina. The Mandalorian stands deathly still as he continues to stare at the spot where your attacker had previously occupied and you think that he must be collecting his thoughts before he speaks out loud. You’re certain that this isn’t how he expected your reunion to go--you pissing off a Trandoshan that rivals his own strength and having to yank you out of a bad situation--but as he slowly turns to regard you and the creature you cradle so closely to your chest, you think he’s not angry with you.
“Seems like you’ve had quite the day, saviin’ika,” He observes with a cocked helmet, his hand slowly moving to the underside of your jaw so he can tilt your head back to get a better view of your newest injuries; judging by the tension laced in his baritone, along with the way his chest heaves, you must appear as awful as you feel, “Not a good one, at that.”
The weight of his grave words fill your eyes with tears and you squeeze your eyes shut when the cold leather covering his calloused thumb ghosts along the apple of your bruised cheek; it brings you back to when he carried you to your hut and tended to your wounds. Somehow, his touch seems far gentler right now than it had that night, despite him wearing his gloves and it only makes you want to cry harder for the tender warrior.
“Y-You weren’t...” You force yourself not to sob, as you feel you’ve cried far too much for one day, “Where did you go? I-I waited, just like I promised. I know it was so late the first day, but after that I kept waiting and y-you never showed up and I thought you--”
Your voice cracks and you think from the way he slumps forward a little he must feel the pain that’s so prevalent in your broken words; he raises his hands in a pleading gesture as your tears burst like a kriffing dam. You’re certain it’s just the events of the day, combined with being concussed and absolutely exhausted that’’s making you so emotional, but you don’t care anymore and let it all out.
“I… I am sorry I have not been here for you,” He sounds ashamed as he leans down to tenderly press his Beskar-clad forehead against your bare one, taking great care to not bump into your stitches, “There were problems in the tribe that needed to be taken care of. I did not intend for it to last this long.”
You hesitate to open your eyes and peer up at him, though when you do, you find that the sight of his scuffed up helmet and visor bring you more comfort than what you’ve felt since his absence, “Are your people okay? I could help if someone is injured or--”
“No, mesh’la,” He still sounds pained as his fingers graze the edges of the bandage that covers the stitches at your hairline, “Everyone is okay, but thank you for your concern. It was just a dangerous mission that our bounty hunter needed help with and some negotiating with the tribe that I needed to be there for. I did not want to be away from you for this long--it was not my intentions--but I know that one day soon you will understand. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry.”
“No, I just... there is nothing to forgive. Your tribe should always come first,” You shake your head as you viciously wipe the tears from your cheeks, “It’s been a long day and I’m just being... I’m just tired--I’m exhausted and hurt.”
“Then let me take care of you, little nurse.”
“You… you should not be here; you should be with your own people,” You force out in a tiny whisper, though he does not seem afraid by your words in the slightest, “This is--what we have..” You hate that your expression crumbles and your voice breaks, because he immediately tilts his helmet, as though he already sees right through your lies, “It is wrong.”
He scoffs and you’re barely aware of the way he gently curls his fingers around your hip, pushing you up against the infirmary you had somehow made it to in your hysteria. Judging by the way he shakes his helmet at you and easily backs you up until you're pressed to the brick wall of the broken down place you work at, you think he must not believe your words at all. You feel as though you do not have the strength to explain what is going on as he cockily rests a forearm right next to your cheek against the brick wall of the infirmary that he’s successfully trapped you against.
“This is wrong, mesh’la?” He questions softly--desperately--and you think your heart might combust at how gentle his modulated baritone is, “Is it so wrong that I couldn’t stop thinking of your eyes and smile every night I was away from you? Is it wrong that I dream of how soft your hair feels when I take off my gloves or that I only wish to hold you when I am alone in my bed at night? Would you really be so cruel to me after I traveled so long just to see your pretty face?"
“Was it not cruel of you to be away for so long without me knowing why? I thought you might have...” Your gaze lowers to his cuirass in embarrassment and shame, “I thought you were injured or that maybe you just didn’t... you didn’t want me anymore.”
He tenses, back straightening as he makes a strange choking noise, “I always want you--I always will. It pained me to not be able to see you in person, but you were in my dreams whenever I actually managed to get sleep. Do you really not want this anymore? Did I hurt you that badly?” He suddenly sounds fearful and your heart absolutely aches in your chest, “I would get on my knees and ask for forgiveness if that is what you wished for.”
“I would not allow your big ego to take that big of a hit,” You jokingly whisper--a poor attempt to lighten the situation, though it stops him right before he can fall to his knees, “This is--it’s just something that cannot go on any longer.”
“You are making no sense to me, mesh’la.”
You release a small sigh when his fingers drift up to the remnants of dried blood that have crusted into your roots, “I am not a cruel woman, Mandalorian, I am tired and I would not let you feel the same pain I have felt,” You whisper the last part as he gently nudges his forehead against yours, “I would not wish it upon anyone, especially you.”
“You think your father could hurt me?” The Mandalorian’s thumb is rubbing soothing circles into your hip as he tilts his helmet, forehead still pressed to yours and you force your expression not to crumble when you remember your father’s words from earlier, “He wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on me--he wouldn’t be able to even think about it before I’d have him in ashes at your feet.”
“Must you make everything so difficult?” You inquire lips trembling because he does not realize the true extent of the kind of pain your father it able to inflict on the fearless warrior without even laying a finger on him, “You should leave. P-Please, you do not understand what he is--what he can do to you.”
“What did he say to you? Please tell me he did not get inside that pretty head of yours,” He taps the underside of your chin and urges you to peer up at his visor and you fear that he’ll see the despair and agony burning something fierce in your shimmering eyes, “Is that really what you wish for, mesh’la? You gonna break my heart like this?”
“You know what I wish for, yet it is something I can never have, Mandalorian.”
“Don’t do this to me, to us,” He sounds just as devastated as you feel and it only complicates the situation more than you could ever hope to anticipate as he continues to speak in the same tone, “Don’t take this away from me--not when it’s the only good thing we’ve both had in so long and I... please let me help you.”
He sounds so despondent and the graveness of it causes your heart to ache terribly as you shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your cheeks and into the leather covering his fingers.
“Let me take you away from here.”
You swallow the lump in your throat and rest the back of your head against the wall he has you trapped to; all confidence you had in your attempts to break things off with the Mandalorian dissipates the very moment you feel the cool leather of his thumb kiss the corner of your mouth. He cocks his helmet to the side when you turn your head further against his hand and slowly let your eyelids slip shut when your lips meet the palm of his black glove; you long for the warmth of his rough skin instead.
You simultaneously loathe and love that he has this effect on you--that he holds your heart so protectively in his palm--and you know you're playing a dangerous game as your free hand comes up to press against his much bigger one. You trap the cold leather close to your face and don’t care when you force him to apply the tiniest pressure to the blue and purple bruises covering half of your face.
You’re barely aware of the way he raises his fingers, so he causes you no pain.
He lets out a deep, dreamy sigh when you press a firm kiss to his palm and all thoughts pertaining to the promise you’d previously made to your father disappear as he tenderly strokes your cheek with his thumb.
“I have to tend to her wounds, Mandalorian,” You murmur when the vulptex cub lets out an irritated whine and you feel emptier when he reluctantly pulls his hand away from your face, though he keeps your hand trapped firmly in his.
“Then I will tend to yours after, mesh’la.”
“They really aren’t that bad,” You insist, though the ache in your ribs and the throbbing in the back of your skull reminds you otherwise, “They look a lot worse than they feel.”
“You are a terrible liar,” He sighs again and gently squeezes your hand as you lead him into the infirmary, taking great caution to lock the entrance behind you, “I can tell by the way you are breathing that your ribs are injured. Let me--just, please let me take care of you."
You should tell him to leave, your father's threat lingering in the back of your mind, but the temptation of your Mandalorian's bare touch outweighs any rational thought you might have had. So, you relent with hardly any fuss, giving the stubborn man a small nod as you tiredly guide him into your office and turn on the lights.
"I do not want you to see my body like this," You warn him as you tenderly lay the wounded creature in the center of your medical cot, "I am ashamed of my bruises and scars."
You barely glance at the warrior as he lazily removes his heavy cannon, as well as the jetpack that's attached to the huge weapon. He freezes upon hearing your meek words and shakes his helmet as you begin to disinfect your tiny patient’s minor wounds, earning you soft squeaks and whines in the process.
"That shame belongs to him, mesh'la," Your Mandalorian reassures you in a firm tone that makes you think he's upset, "Never feel ashamed for the cruelty of others, especially when you did nothing to deserve any of this. As for the scars, there is nothing embarrassing about the stories that tell your survival."
“Do you have many?” You question, not able to meet his emotionless visor, though something about how terse he sounds makes you think he’s not as stoic as he always tries to appear to be, “I know when I stitched you up a couple of months ago you, I just didn’t see many scars.”
“The armor doesn’t always hold up,” He quietly admits and you finally turn your head to peer up at the dents in his helmet; dread pumps through your veins when you realize the scars on his Beskar must have been a result of a powerful blaster shot and you wonder if the bare skin beneath is scarred as well, “I have many scars as well. Some I’ve gotten from fights I’m not so proud of, but they are still a part of me and tell the story of who I am today.”
You contemplate his words carefully, observing all the scuffs and dents in his dull blue armor before collecting your thoughts, “I am not a warrior like you and I did not get these scars from fighting in battles. There is no honor behind my story--behind learning how to take beatings and keeping my mouth shut so I won’t be hurt worse. This is not a battle, it’s just learning to live with it.”
You turn away from him when you fear that you won’t be able to hold your composure any longer, tensing a little when the Mandalorian speaks in a low, deeper baritone, “Maybe it is not a battle you’re fighting, but that doesn’t make you any less of a warrior, mesh’la. You’re far braver than anyone in this damn village and I’ll keep telling you that until you finally believe it.”
“And what if I never believe it? What will you do then?”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep saying it until the day I die.”
You smile sadly and not knowing how to respond, you simply fall into a thoughtful silence as you check the cub for any broken bones or wounds that might not be visible; after confirming nothing is broken, you spin around in your chair to face the Mandalorian. He’s leaning against your desk, wood creaking underneath the weight of his body as he stares right back at you with his bare hands resting on his hips. Just the way he stands when he’s in a relaxed environment screams confidence and power and you think it to be amazing that someone can consistently exude that kind of energy, even to someone like you--someone who’s seen him grow shy and even sometimes vulnerable.
“Would you please hand me the antibacterial cream?” You politely ask as you situate yourself in the most comfortable position that your bruised ribs will allow you to sit, offering him a tiny smile when he nods and turns around to reach up to the top shelf bolted to the wall, “Thank you.”
“Sure,” He hums as he makes his way over to you in two wide strides, seeming to be unbothered by you ordering him around, “All this trouble over a vulptex that looks like a little runt?”
“All creatures matter the same to me, Mandalorian,” You gratefully accept the little jar he holds out for you to take and you scoop out the white cream on two fingers, “No matter how big or small they are, they all deserve basic medical attention.”
“You’re something else, saviin’ika,” He informs you, sounding amused as he holds a hand out for the cub to sniff, though the ethereal creature merely turns its nose away and blinks slowly at you; the Mandalorian shakes his helmet with a grunt and turns his attention to you as he leans against the back of your chair.
“Do you know much of this species?”
The Mandalorian hums as he lazily wraps his fingers around the top of the backrest of your chair, seeming entirely comfortable to be this close to you, “I know they’re native to the planet of Crait, but other than that, I don’t know much else outside of the fur trade and them being smuggled and slaughtered for their crystal coats.”
Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach and you hate that tears immediately burn your eyes as you stare at the precious little creature and her soulful crimson eyes, “S-Slaughtered?”
“It is best not to think about it, little nurse, especially when your heart is so soft compared to everyone else’s,” He sighs and he must be mentally kicking himself in the back of his scuffed up blue helmet for exposing you to such terrible news, “You did a good thing--saving this little runt. Her fate would have been… unfavorable, to say the least.”
You swallow the lump in your throat as he gently thumbs your braids that lack their usual vibrant flowers; they had all fallen out upon the beating you’d taken earlier and it felt so wrong to be without them, “Do you think her family--her mother--?”
“I don’t know,” He answers honestly, dutifully stroking the unruly baby hairs away from your forehead as you continue to wonder what kind of trauma this beautiful creature must have gone through, “Like I said, it is best to not think about it.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop thinking about what that man would have done to this poor animal,” You confess in a meek whisper as he smooths a calloused hand over your braids in a comforting manner, “How can people be so…?”
Your question hangs heavily in the air like a dark gray cloud and the Mandalorian makes a small noise in response, wordlessly answering that he doesn’t know why people are capable of acting so cruelly to those who don’t deserve it.
“That Trandoshan… did he do anything to you? I could go back and--”
“Always so ready to fight,” You smile sadly, watching as the cub slowly falls asleep underneath your tender hands and the soothing sensation that your homemade cream bestows upon its burning wounds, “He did not hurt me. If anything, I hurt him.”
You continue when he makes a questioning hum from the back of his throat, “I kind of uh, kicked him between his legs… twice?”
You blush fiercely when he makes a choked sound and reaches out to gently squeeze your nape, he sounds like he’s trying not to laugh when he speaks, “You kicked a man in the balls? A Trandoshan?”
“I was left with no other choice and did what I needed to.”
“You are much braver than you believe,” You think you hear a twinge of admiration in his cool baritone and shake your head a little at the sentiment, refusing to believe his words “I mean it. Not many with no fighting experience would have the courage to take on someone so much bigger to protect something so little, especially when you’re already hurt. You should feel proud.”
“Th-Thank you,” You whisper, shuddering when his hand slowly travels down your neck and settles on the space between your shoulder blades, rubbing the tension away from your aching muscle; your fingers fumble with the roll of gauze as you slowly finish wrapping it around the cub’s raw neck, “You are… you’re distracting me from my work, Mandalorian.”
“I would prefer to distract you in other ways, mesh’la,” That slight cockiness is back in his modulated voice and when you try so desperately to think of some sort of witty comeback, you find that your mind is full of thoughts of what other distractions he could possibly mean. His hand slowly trails up your back and around the slope of your shoulder, eventually stopping at the base of your throat and urging your head backwards so the back of your skull is gently pressed against his armored-clad abdomen and you’re peering up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes. He barely uses any pressure to control you and it’s then that you realize it’s not dominance he seeks, but more so your trust in him, and knowing that he would never harm you with ill intent.
“I have a patient to treat.”
“So do I.”
“I’m still upset with you.”
He releases the gentle, barely-there grip on your throat at your weak words and you exhale a long, deep sigh as you finish wrapping up the vulptex’s sprained paw with a small splint and a tight layer of gauze to keep the bones from shifting. Grabbing the thin pillow from the top of the medical cot, you slowly rise from your chair, fully aware of your Mandalorian’s attention on you as you place the pillow in a safe corner of the room before retrieving a small, metal dish that you would typically use to discard debris into upon treating injured patients. Instead, you fill it with water before placing some dried meat into a smaller dish, just in case your newest companion becomes hungry at some point throughout the night.
Once you settle the healing creature near its water and food bowls, you hesitantly turn to the Mandalorian that now occupies your chair, legs splayed wide, as though he doesn’t give a damn about how much space he takes up in your little office. As you approach him after making sure the cub is sound asleep and comfortable in her cozy corner, you find that you don't mind his hulking stature in the slightest and place a gentle hand on the spot between his pauldron and the lip of his helmet.
“Mesh’la,” He greets you in a quiet huff as you slowly lower yourself onto the cot with a pained expression etched upon your features; his hand moves to your thigh and carefully tugs you closer to him, “Your wounds?"
"I've done all that I can already," You inform him weakly, putting up no fight when he gently guides you into a laying position on your side by placing a firm hand on your shoulder, "I don't have anything for fractured ribs."
"I do," He begins to pull a familiar jar from the pouch at his hip and you shake your head a little upon realizing it's the bacta salve you gave him two months ago, "Please, let me take care of you the same way you take care of everyone else."
“I’m not used to--”You swallow the lump in your throat and eventually nod your consent, melting into the stiff cot when he gently wraps his fingers around your bare calf and you speak in a weak whisper, "Okay, just please be careful, the bruising is--it's pretty bad."
"I would never--" His chest heaves and his head tilts as his visor lands on your face, "I'll always be gentle with you, mesh'la."
You nod and fully relax against the mattress, peering at his scuffed up helmet as his fingers curl into the hem of your dress; you think his hesitation is endearing because most men would not have the same reaction, "It is okay, I'm wearing shorts."
"How unfortunate."
So much for hesitation.
Your face grows so hot that you feel it spread to your earlobes and you shake your head at the man who's determined to be your own nurse. You think it’s ironic that you’re in the same position he had once been in during your initial meeting and you now understand why he had become so tense upon touching his warm skin. He’s barely touched you and your heart is beating harder than a war drum before battle; you briefly wonder if this is what he had in mind when he inquired about treating your wounds and you think he must enjoy watching you squirm a little.
Yet, you know his intentions are pure and he only wishes to help you.
"Do you flirt this way with everyone?"
"No," He sounds utterly amused by your exasperation and shy disposition, "Just pretty nurses who go around picking fights with Trandoshans."
You scoff at that, fully aware of what kind of game he’s playing with you, “It seems as though you are the nurse and I am your patient now, though.”
“I... uh, yes, it does seem that way, mesh’la.”
You roll your eyes at him, though a small smile threatens to break your stoic features, "It is not professional to flirt with your patients, Mandalorian."
He huffs a little, risking a cursory glance at your face before carefully sliding your dress up your thighs and stomach so he can get a good look at your ribs. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his calloused knuckles graze the outside of your bare thigh and you force your mind out of the gutter, reminding yourself that he’s doing this to tend to your wounds.
"Oh, saviin'ika," You hear him sigh gravely as he lightly drapes your dress just underneath your bust, exposing your severely bruised skin to him, "He… he did all of this to you? Wh-Why? Maker--how could anyone--?"
You flinch a little when he cautiously lays a warm hand near the darkest of the bruises and he’s astoundingly quick to yank his hand away, as though you’re the one that’s caused him such pain and you shake your head a little. You reach out to grab his warm hand in your colder one and guide it back to your bruised skin, longing to feel any sort of tender touch after the rough, violent week you’ve had.
"He caught me daydreaming instead of working. I should have--"
"Don't you dare blame yourself for this," He breathes, a twinge of devastation clear as day in his crackly voice, "Nobody deserves this kind of torture except for him and him only. I wish you would--" He sounds like he's in even more pain than you and your heart shatters upon realizing you've unintentionally reduced him to such a state, "I wish you would let me kill him for you. I could even make it fast so you wouldn't think me to be as cruel as him. Please, mesh--"
"I want to continue to be a nurse, Mandalorian," You weakly remind him, remembering your father’s threat as your own nurse glides a cautious thumb along your tender skin, remaining diligent in not applying any pressure, “I could not keep helping others if you killed him--the infirmary would close down and I would be left without a job.”
The Mandalorian shakes his head and you watch as his rough fingers collect a generous scoop out of the jar that looks just as filled as the night he’d carried you home and tended to your wounds then. You wonder if it’s simply an instinct for him to take care of others and you give him an encouraging smile when he begins to rub the warm gel against the worst of your bruises with far more tenderness than you’ve ever experienced. You can tell he’s utterly afraid of causing you further pain and you watch as he keeps his visor trained on his massive hand that’s currently soothing your wounds.
“What if you could though? What if there was a way you could continue to help others and not have to fear him?”
You force yourself not to ponder his words too much, knowing such wistful thinking will only end in more pain.
“I would think it to be a fairytale,” You finally murmur, eyes slipping shut as he continues to slowly and carefully soothe your bruises with a ghost of a touch; the bacta salve is pleasantly numbing and you’re suddenly grateful for the unexpected medical attention, “And I have never believed in fairytales, Mandalorian.”
He simply hums and doesn’t say anything else as he finishes rubbing the numbing salve against your tender skin; though the dull ache still lingers, you’re certain the pain will be minimal come morning. You think he’s finished when he kindly fixes your gray dress so the hem is settled against just above your knees once again, but then he’s standing up and you barely lift your head when you hear water running from the small sink that’s adjacent from where you lay. The Mandalorian seems like a man on a mission as he keeps his back to you and goes through a few drawers and cupboards before finding what it is he’s searching for.
You make a small questioning hum as he makes his way over to a little sink that you'd normally wash your hands in, "What are you doing?"
He barely turns his head to you as he harshly wrings out a soaking rag in the sink, "I am cleaning you up. You have blood in your hair."
"You don't--" Your heart swells at the gesture; you hadn't really had much time earlier to thoroughly clean yourself up and had felt the dried up blood crusted into your hairline all day, "Th-Thank you. That's really sweet of you."
He merely grunts as he shuts off the water and makes his way back to the cot you currently occupy and you blink in surprise when he gently slides a hand underneath your head and urges you to sit up just a little. It takes you a second to realize what he's doing and you carefully lean up on an elbow so he can carefully shift himself behind you on the cot and your face grows warm at the thought of him yearning to be so close to you.
As he settles behind you and moves you up into more of a seated position between his splayed thighs, carefully wrapping his thick fingers around your biceps to pull you up further against his chest, you completely forget your father's foreboding threat. Now, you're focused solely on the way he curls himself around you to get a better look at the dried blood matted to your scalp.
"Nurses don't typically treat their patients like this, Mandalorian."
He lets out another grunt and firmly keeps his hand cupped to the underside of your jaw so he can tilt your head backwards, “I just wanted to be close to you after not seeing you for so long. Besides, I don’t hear you complaining at all, mesh’la,” He lowers his helmet a little as he gently dabs at the small section of matted, crusty hair, “Are you going to tell me the real reason why you tried to get me to leave you tonight?”
Your eyelids slip shut as he soothingly rubs your jaw with his thumb and you wish he wasn’t wearing his cuirass so you could melt against him easier, “This is dangerous for both of us."
The scratchy material of the cloth tugs at your skin a little, but it's nowhere near painful as he continues to dutifully clean the blood from your scalp, "What did he say to you?"
Tiredly, you rest your hands on top of his armor-clad thighs and lean further against his chest as you force yourself to lie to the only man you’ve ever admired, “Only the truth--that I need to stop getting distracted so much. I-I have a job to do.”
“That does not mean you shouldn’t be allowed to be happy,” He breathes and you keep your eyes closed when he moves to tend to the bruises; you don’t have the heart to tell him that your happiness would end with your demise, “You can still help people and... and be with me.”
Your brows furrow and your chest heaves as he affectionately rubs the soothing salve against your cheek before dutifully moving to the black and blue skin around your eye. You think of earlier when he spoke of your strength and scars and how you insisted you were no warrior, but as the Mandalorian drops his helmet until the chin of it is resting on your shoulder, you realize you are at war with yourself.
How could you possibly deny this man anything?
Even when the bacta is absorbed into your pleasantly numbed skin, he keeps caressing your cheeks, nose, and lips and you slowly turn your head until your nose bumps against his visor; if he weren’t so close to you, his next words would have been inaudible.
“I wish I could kiss you right now, mesh’la.”
His thumb barely parts your lips and you feel his other hand come up to feel the frenzied pulse at the hollow of your throat, seeming all too content to touch you anywhere you’d allow him to. You feel utterly warm and helpless when his thumb gently pulls at your bottom lip and a desperate noise somehow passes through his modulator.
“The things I would do for you,” He groans upon feeling the warm saliva on the inside of your lip, “The things you do to me...”
You swallow the lump in your throat as you speak, your words a weak promise that he doesn’t realize to be true in that moment, his mind only focused on the way your tongue barely grazes the rough pad of his thumb to register the weight of your statement.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Mandalorian.”
Saviin’ika= Little Violet
Mesh’la= Beautiful
Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst (as always, please let me know if I missed anyone!!)
Author’s note: SO I literally say it every single chapter, but you guys are absolutely amazing and I’m so grateful for all the sweet words and support y’all have given me. When I started writing the first chapter, I only intended on it being 3-5 chapters at the most, but I literally adore these two lovebirds and now I’m over here planning out a whole ass novel for them lmao.
Also if I take a long time to reply to your kind replies/reblogs/asks, please forgive me!! My dumb self gets so overwhelmed in such a good way and I never know how to respond :( I definitely see every like, every reply and reblog and ask you guys send me and I adore all of you <3
#paz vizsla x reader#paz vizla x reader#mandalorian x reader#Paz vizsla x you#paz vizla x you#idk if it's vizla or vizsla anymore so im using both to be safe lmao#mandalorian fanfic#my writing#LORD THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO MUCH OUT OF ME#AT FIRST HE WASNT EVEN GONNA BE IN IT AND THEN I JUST COULDNT STOP MYSELF#AGHHH
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Pepperony Gift Exchange
Title: Like It Never Happened
Pairing: Pepperony
Word Count: Almost 13k
TW: Implied/referenced Alcohol Abuse
Rating: G
Summary: When Tony and Pepper get stranded alone in Colorado after a long (mostly) working weekend they learn more about the other in one night than in the five years they spent working together. Not only that but they discover there may be the possibility for more for them in the future. What started as the weekend from hell blossoms into something unexpected and life changing.
OR
There was only one bed. - "Hey, Pepper. Want to make out?"
Notes: I wrote this for the Pepperony Valentine's Gift Exchange via @dailypepperony for @river-bottom-nightmare. I am so sorry that this is so late. Life has kicked my butt this last month but I hope the nearly 13k in content is a good apology. I had a lot of fun with this one even as it grew from just a funny little idea into something with actual plot. I hope that you enjoy it!! Sorry again for the wait. <3
Read it on AO3 Here
They were supposed to have gone back to Malibu on Thursday night after the conference. Instead, here Pepper was on Saturday night, trekking through one of the worst blizzards in Colorado history because her boss just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a mini vacation and go snowboarding with a gaggle of busty sycophants.
She’d been working for Tony Stark for almost five years now, so she wasn’t sure why she was still sometimes so surprised by his need to go off script and wildly alter all of their plans, but at least when he did they were normally in California where it was warm and sunny, not this frozen tundra.
She almost left without him, sure he would never notice or care she was gone but even though she and Tony had a good back and forth relationship, she had less of one with the CTO, Obadiah Stane and knew that Obadiah would be less thrilled if she left the wild child CEO on his own to get into trouble.
By the time that she had been able to finally convince Tony that they needed to leave and then to check out from their hotel and make it to the airport, the storm was already in full effect and all planes had been grounded, even for America’s premier billionaire weapons developer. So, they had to turn around. Or they would have if they could have made it past the airport parking lot but the snow was falling so heavily that their driver wouldn’t even attempt it, and he was a Colorado native.
This left Pepper with the unique challenge of now finding lodging nearby because she would be damned if she was going to sleep inside the airport. There were several hotels and motels that were airport adjacent at least, so now she was mostly left with the issue of them all being fully booked by other stranded flyers.
The concierge at their latest chain hotel was being very polite and understanding of their dilemma, however there was only so much they could do and apparently the Stark name meant nothing in the midst of a blizzard.
Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose and then massaged her aching forehead as she parsed through her options, not that there really were any. It was almost midnight, she was tired, had been working all day when she wasn’t corralling Tony. This hotel would have to do. Tony only had himself to blame if the room wasn’t up to snuff.
Speaking of which…
She turned around from the front desk, eyes scanning the mostly empty lobby until they zeroed in on her boss, leaning against the wall talking to another guest, female of course, with a wolfish smile on his face.
Bleh.
“Mr. Stark?” she called out across the room to him, a fake pleasant smile plastered to her face and a thin veneer of exasperation lacing her words.
“Yes, dear?” He responded automatically without so much as even a backward glance.
Breathe, Potts, breathe.
“I think we are just about set up over here, just need your signature as always,” she replied, proud at how in check her temper was at the moment.
For a moment she thought she’d have to physically remove him from his conversation until a tall, buff looking guy came in the door carrying several suitcases, dropping them at the feet of the woman Tony was talking to, and he did not look pleased. Tony quickly gave a wink and a smile before he strategically retreated.
“You got it all figured out, huh?” he asked, as he made his way to the desk.
“I always do.”
He smiled genuinely at that and she felt just the slightest bit of her anger melting away and instead the butterflies she’d sometimes get in her stomach stirred to life instead. It was ridiculous really how nice of a smile her boss had, so she was allowed to be a little weak internally. From the looks of the young concierge, she would seem to agree, as well.
Tony reached across the front desk to grab a pen, and Pepper slid the forms over to Tony. Technically, her job did give her the power to sign for him but early on she had deemed it entirely necessary to make him put forth at least the bare minimum of effort, especially when situations like this would arise and it was all his fault.
Tony signed his name with a flourish, only the ‘T’ and ‘S’ distinguishable on the line. As he did the lights in the lobby flickered.
“What’s up with that?”
The concierge kept a smile on her face as she took the information from them. “The blizzard might be causing an issue with the power. We have emergency lights and fireplaces in each of the suites in case it were to go out.”
Tony raised a brow and looked sideways to Pepper. She raised her hands in mock defense.
“We wouldn’t even still be in this state if you weren’t pursuing your...extracurriculars.”
“Pepper, I’m insulted.”
“No you’re not.”
“No I’m not,” he agreed with another one of those smiles that made those butterflies start fluttering again...until he turned his head back to the concierge, his hair flopping to the side. “So, what time do you get off work?”
Tony definitely knew how to clip those butterfly wings in a single instance.
“No, no. We have to share a room and this is definitely one of those things that is not in my contract to have to deal with.”
“Aw, Pep you’re no fun. Besides, I’m sure she has her own room,” he said winking at the girl who let loose a nervous giggle.
Oh puh-lease.
“Tony,” she finally stated in her no nonsense voice that cut through all of his bullshit.
He looked at her then, really looked at her she thought, and saw something, probably her extreme exhaustion and distaste for him at the moment and he straightened his stance from leaning against the desk and turned back.
“Do you at least have a bar around here or in the room?”
“They closed at nine.”
“What in the prohibition is wrong with this place?”
“I’m sure we could have something sent up for you?” The girl asked entirely unsure if that was even possible, Pepper was sure, though seemingly willing enough to risk her job to earn another grin from her boss.
Thankfully Tony spared her from much more flirting and they were finally handed their room keys and directed to the elevator down the hall. They were on the third floor with a view overlooking the mountains which the concierge promised was a sight to behold in the mornings. The only sight Pepper was looking forward to was the back of her eyelids.
She leaned heavily against the rail in the elevator and let her head flop back against the wall.
“You okay, Potts?”
“Nothing a good night of sleep won’t fix,” she mumbled automatically.
Tony shrugged and went back to looking at his phone but every now and then she could feel the weight of his stare on her, even with her eyes closed.
-------------------
“There must be some kind of a mistake…”
Pepper dropped her bag in the doorway even as Tony shuffled around her to see what the problem was.
The room was definitely much smaller than either of them was used to, and certainly a downgrade in quality but that was to be expected from a chain airport hotel. Still it wasn’t exactly a slum either. There was a mini kitchenette with a coffee pot and microwave on one end of the room, what he assumed was a door leading to a bathroom, and then at the opposite end was the fireplace that was boasted about, along with the balcony overlooking the mountains. A small desk and couch was also wedged up against the wall.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, finally coming up with nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the horrific beiges and generic prints lining the walls.
That must have been the wrong answer because Pepper turned to him with the most unamused face in her arsenal.
“There’s only one bed,” she finally pointed out. “This was supposed to be a double. I’m calling down to the front.”
Tony didn’t consider that the end of the world but apparently Pepper did, as she stormed over to the old looking phone and dialed down to the front. He just shrugged and entered the room more fully, dropping his bag in front of the wardrobe/tv stand combo and instantly went to get a better look of the view, occasional snatches of Pepper’s conversation drifting to his ears.
“...no you said there was a room available you did not say that it was a single…”
Tony would almost be insulted by how vehemently his assistant was fighting against the hotel staff if he didn’t already know that she fought equally hard in all of her endeavors. It was one of the many reasons that he had hired her on in the first place.
“Okay, so they don’t have any more rooms, it’s this or nothing,” Pepper finally said, slamming the receiver down.
Tony turned back to his exasperated assistant and just grinned at how flushed she was. “It’s not the end of the world, I’m sure we can manage.”
Pepper was still not amused or comforted. “Sure, you can say that because you are literally inhuman and can fall asleep anywhere, but I have been chasing you around for two days, while also keeping everything caught up with SI and it's cold and I’m tired. I don’t exactly relish sleeping on a couch after everything that has happened.”
Tony flinched and scrunched his face up. “Why would you sleep on the couch? C’mon we’re adults, it’s a big bed, there’s no reason that we can’t just share it. And if you’re cold, then I’ll get the fireplace going.”
Pepper paused and looked like she was considering his words, her eyes roaming over to the bed, probably calculating the amount of space that they would each have between their bodies. He could probably seal the deal if he could just keep his mouth shut for the next two minutes and swallow down the flirty retort on the tip of his tongue, alas though, he was Tony Stark and he had never been good at not saying what was on his mind.
“Besides, I have been trying to get you in bed with me for years.”
He could see the exact moment that the light left her eyes and all considerate notions of bed sharing were instantly quashed.
Oh, well. Maybe next time.
“Orrrrrrr,” he dragged the word out and at least had the decency to be mildly apologetic in tone and features for his joke, “I can sleep on the couch. I’ll still build you a fire though, cause I’m such a swell guy.”
Pepper rolled her eyes but he could see some of the tension drain from her shoulders and knew that he had made the right choice, chivalrous even. And to be honest, she really did deserve the very least of which he could give her in this instance. She was right, he could sleep anywhere. He had once fallen asleep standing up at his drafting board and Rhodey could probably write a book about all the weird places he had found him dozing while they were at MIT. Some of those naps might have been more alcohol or drug induced than by choice but the sentiment remained the same. And as Pepper so angrily stated, she had been running after him like his mother for the past few days. He’d make sure to give her a raise too. He liked to do that anytime he knew he had been particularly burdensome. Pepper got a lot of raises.
Pepper didn’t say anything else but she went back for her bag and rummaged through it for a bit, pulling out night clothes and toiletries before disappearing into the bathroom, so surely she had agreed to their new terms.
Tony wandered his way over to the fireplace and realized it was just an old electric thing. He turned a few knobs to get it going and by the time that Pepper had exited the bathroom, it was at least putting out a pleasant warmth and Tony had already mapped out ten different ways in his brain to improve the energy efficiency and output ratio. He liked finding new ways to fix old age problems. It was often a welcome relief from building the next big weapon, often saving him from his creative stifle.
“Check it out, Potts,” he said over his shoulder and then turned his head to face her from where he was crouched beside the fire. When he looked at Pepper though his brain may as well have shut down entirely.
He had seen Pepper in all manner of power suits and business attire. Had seen her on the rarer occasion in her ‘off the clock attire’ containing various jeans and t-shirts. However, he had yet to see her in any kind of nightwear, the past few days they had had separate rooms and any time she may have crashed at the mansion before that she was always hidden behind closed doors and in fresh clothing by the time he was pulled out of his bed.
Seeing her now...well it wasn’t quite what he would fantasize, no fantasies were just that and really there were no practical reasons to sleep in sheer lacy lingerie when one had no intentions of seduction, no this was right. This was very Pepper. Practical. Comfortable. Still surprisingly sexy?
She sensed his eyes on her as she stuffed her folded clothing back into her bag and slowly turned to him, her toothbrush still hanging out of one side of her mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing just you look…” he held his hands up as if lost for words and he kind of was at the moment. He felt that strange churn he’d sometimes get in the pit of his stomach when he would sometimes zone out in the middle of an all nighter and think about Pepper, really think about her, not just the curves and the pretty face, but all of her, and how he never smiled more than when he was with her. That feeling was back, gnawing at his gut as his eyes swiped over her one more time.
Pepper was instantly on the defensive. “They’re my winter pajamas. I never get to wear them in California, leave me alone,” she said, smoothing out any of the wrinkles of her pink flannel set.
“No, no, I didn’t mean anything bad about it. It’s just…” he started to correct, “very you. It’s cute,” he shrugged.
Pepper softened at the recognition of one of his real admissions, dropping her guard back down and allowing a smile to creep across her face. “Not the lace and silk you were hoping for, huh?” she teased him back and he knew they were good again.
“Nah, this is better,” he admitted to her again. It could have been the light from the fireplace or just her body warming from the cold, snowy night but he thought he saw a flush of pink spread across her cheeks and tinge the top of her ears. It was adorable.
A knock at the door broke the moment and Tony took it upon himself to answer. It was the hotel general manager, a tall, balding man in his forties with a bushy mustache. He apologized about the inconvenience over the room and the bar being closed but offered Tony a bottle of, “their best wine,” free of charge. Tony accepted it and the man scurried away like a mouse.
Tony turned the bottle in his hand, reading the label.
“We’re rolling in luxury now, Pep.”
“Oh yeah? Did they bump some poor couple from a double room?”
“I thought we already solved the bed issue?”
“We did, but I could still hope,” she shrugged, and went into the bathroom to spit and rinse her toothbrush out.
Tony knew no boundaries though so he followed behind her and leaned into the doorway as she went about removing the days make up. Now that he had seen Pepper without, so it didn’t phase him to watch.
“No, they did apologize though with their best red wine, vintage 2004. A whole year. We should be honored.”
“Not everyone in the world has exclusive access to their own family wineries in Italy, Tony,” she said, blotting at her face.
“Okay, I’m a snob,” he admitted. “You like wine, right Pepper? Let’s crack this bad boy open.”
“Tony,” she started in that tone that usually ended in a solid ‘no.’
“C’mon Potts, a quick nightcap. Live a little.”
“You live enough for the both of us.”
“That wasn’t a no,” he pointed at her and fled the room in search of cups before she did say no.
No glasses had been provided by Bill the general manager, nor the kitchenette, so Tony had to settle for the paper cups that were meant for the coffee pot. He’d just rinse his cup out when he was done and reuse it for the coffee in the morning. No big deal.
The wine wasn’t the type that needed a corkscrew, nor was it the type that he thought needed to breathe after being opened but he went ahead and waited a few moments anyways. It certainly couldn’t make it any worse...he hoped.
After further thought he flipped off the lights then glanced at the bed and pulled off the four fluffy pillows and sat them around the small fireplace, two of them he propped against the wall and leaned back against, the other two he left for Pepper to decide what to do with.
He then grabbed the wine and the two paper cups and poured himself a measure. It smelled just like your basic, cheap, supermarket wine, and after a taste he knew that he had definitely had worse in his life but that wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. Satisfied that they at least wouldn't be poisoned tonight, he filled his cup the rest of the way and then Pepper's and waited.
-------------------------------------
“What is this?” Pepper said, haltingly when she finally emerged from the bathroom makeup-less and ready for bed. She looked Tony up and down, the way he was sprawled out on the cheap carpet, propped up only by the wall and the bed pillows beside the warm fire with suspicion. It felt like a cheap seduction attempt.
Tony however never faltered. “It’s our nightcap,” he said with a grin and raised his paper cup. “It tastes like shit but I figured maybe some ambiance wouldn’t hurt.”
Pepper hesitated again. Tony had always been flirty and he knew better than to try anything further with her. She had made it very clear from day one exactly where he could go if he tried to treat her like a one night stand. He had surprisingly been very respectful of her boundaries, testing the limits on occasion, but he never made her feel uncomfortable or anything.
This whole situation though had been wearing her thin. The aggravation of what occurred and why mixed with the fact that there was a part of her that was singing in glee at being confined to a single bed room with her good looking, charming boss who despite all the bravado she had put forth about leaving her alone, she had still managed to harbor a crush on. Maybe even could develop genuine feelings for. This was neither the time or the place for those kinds of thoughts.
Tony sighed loudly and drew her attention back to him after she must have zoned out for a decent while. “C’mon, Potts. We can pretend this is a slumber party and exchange gossip and paint each other’s nails. If you’re really good we can even end with a pillow fight.”
“Is that what you think happens at slumber parties?” Pepper asked. She gave the bed a longing glance but Tony just looked so damn earnest, so she ultimately gave in and grabbed the two pillows Tony had left for her and fixed herself a spot a respectable distance away from him and plopped down on the pillows with a groan. It felt so good to finally be sitting down.
“I mean that’s the Hallmark version of what I think happens. My only other experience is with porn and I have a feeling that would be even less accurate,” he smiled cheekily.
Pepper rolled her eyes and accepted the Styrofoam cup from his outstretched hand, their fingers brushing against each other ever so slightly, sending a pleasant tingle up her arm. “I haven’t had nearly enough to drink for any of that kind of talk,” she said, taking a sip.
“Well, we do have this bottle all to ourselves…”
This time Pepper laughed a real laugh.
“It would take more than a bottle for either of us to be drunk. I’m pretty sure this is the same brand that my Mom used to buy when I was in high school and it’s pretty weak. Sometimes I’d still steal a drink or two when I was feeling particularly rebellious though.”
Tony gasped and clutched at his chest dramatically at the revelation. “You mean to tell me that the Pepper Potts was an underage drinker?! And here I thought your soul was completely pristine.”
Pepper snorted. “Please. Not that pristine,” she said, taking another drink.
“Ohhh. I am liking this darker side of you, Pep, I have to say. What else did you do? Shoplift bubblegum? Forget to tip your waiter?” he teased.
“I’m sorry my criminal history is not living up to your expectations. Not everyone grew up with a lawyer on retainer and parents that could bail them out.” As soon as the words left her mouth she gasped lightly and covered her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked to him for his reaction. “I’m sorry, I was just teasing, and that was unprofessional…”
It was an unspoken rule to not speak about Howard and Maria Stark literally ever, if one could help it. Sometimes it was unavoidable due to press members who thought they were clever comparing the son to his father or if it were related to Stark Industries business, but never as a joke.
Pepper didn’t know the full story why the subject was so touchy, she’d always just assumed it was due to the tragic nature of their loss. She knew that they had passed years back in an auto accident, Pepper had been a senior in high school, and could still remember the headlines splashed across her father’s newspaper for weeks with photos of the wreck or the elder Starks. There was just one photo of a young Tony that she could remember taken from the funeral. He was all alone and even in black and white she could see and feel the sadness and vulnerability that had been radiating off of him. It was the first time she was cognizant of who he was. Sometimes she could still see the hints of the sad, lonely boy in the man before her and it made her heart ache.
When she looked at Tony he didn’t seem offended at least but the sadness was there. His eyes grew a little more haunted and the smile on his face became a little more downturned but in the blink of an eye the smile was back, a little more cautious now, as he waved a hand at her and filled the cups back up.
“You’re fine,” he reassured her as he poured the wine, “I’m a snob and sometimes I forget how normal people live. And I’ll have you know that there were a couple of times when my parents were out of town that my Aunt Peggy let me cool my heels and sober up in the luxury of a jail cell overnight.”
“Is this Peggy Carter?” Pepper figured she was safe to ask about since she was still alive and well and she knew they were still in contact. She’d seen her flowing script occasionally on the mail she would bring to Tony and had always been a little curious. The woman was an icon.
“It is. You been checking up on me?,” he said, a genuine smile taking over his face again. She loved those smiles.
“It is part of my job,” she shrugged.
“I'm surprised you two haven’t met before, compared Tony-wrangling notes. I’m sure she could provide you plenty of pointers. On second thought--scratch that. Maybe you should never meet,” he laughed. “She’s a great woman though. You would really like her. You’re alike in a lot of ways. Strong, beautiful, capable women who don’t take anyone’s shit.”
Pepper’s heart fluttered a little erratically to be compared to a woman like Peggy Carter, but especially at the word beautiful. She was starting to feel flushed and she knew it had nothing to do with the wine. Time to deflect and redirect, a tried and true Tony-wrangling method.
“You don’t talk about her very much.”
“I don’t?”
Pepper shook her head.
“That’s too bad. It’s not intentional. She’s gone her own way with her family and I suppose I’ve gone mine. That’s life right?”
It sounded like there was more to it than that but Pepper wasn’t going to press her luck any further. Tony though became a little antsy, shifting his body around into several different positions before resettling and drinking the remnants of his cup. He refilled it again and they sat in silence for a moment.
Pepper watched him stare into the fireplace contemplatively, the fake embers casting warm shadows across his face. In this lighting his eyes were a warm, honey brown, and she couldn’t help to be drawn to them as he clearly fought some internal fight.
Finally, after what felt like forever he spoke again, his voice soft and serious.
“Aunt Peggy isn’t too happy with me at the moment.”
Pepper frowned. “Why not? The stocks are the best they have ever been.”
“It’s not the company. Me in general. She thinks that an almost thirty-five year old man shouldn’t still be behaving like his twenty-one year old counterpart,” he said, trying for a wry grin that came off more painful than anything.
“She thinks I need to settle down, have a family like she did. Cut down on the alcohol. Well, not just cut down but check myself into Betty Ford or some shit. I told her to mind her own business, we had an argument and I haven’t heard from her since,” he finished with a deep sigh of regret.
Pepper couldn’t say that she disagreed with Ms. Carter’s assessment and honestly, looking at Tony now, she didn’t think he disagreed now either, if he ever really had. There was a difference between knowing you have a problem and accepting it and seeking treatment. It was clear the woman had meant well, but Tony could be so guarded and so bullheaded.
She mentally fought herself over what to say next. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds, she was still his employee, no matter how friendly they could be off office hours, but he was clearly in pain and seeking a little direction, clarity even.
“Do you disagree with her?” she asked, cautiously.
Tony didn’t blow up at her or fire her. His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at the dancing light in front of him, engaged in his own mental struggle. Slowly he shook his head, the strands of his overgrown hair that had started to curl, waved back and forth slightly.
“No.”
At least he could admit it to himself even if he wasn’t necessarily ready to do anything to change it.
“Call her when we get back. I bet she would love to hear your voice,” she smiled, encouragingly and scooted closer to him so that she could rub her hand down his back in a comforting manner. It was something that she had done a million times before but something about this moment just felt different.
Tony turned his head to face her then, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster in her chest. His eyes traced over her face even as she stopped her ministrations, slowly coming to a stop at her lips before darting back up to her eyes. His tongue darted out just for a second across his own lips and that was when she realized that he was thinking about kissing her. Actually kissing her!
“Hey, Pepper,” he said, voice soft and velvety.
“What?” she squeaked out, a little terrified.
“Wanna make out?” he asked, and was that longing she could detect in his otherwise nonchalant delivery?
Was he actually serious?
For a moment she let her mind wander, let herself give in to the possibility of actually sharing a kiss with Tony Stark. She couldn’t lie and say she hadn’t imagined it before, she was only human after all and Tony was good looking and could even be quite charming when he wasn’t entirely self absorbed. She wondered if she would be able to taste the cheap wine on his full lips…
No.
There was no way that Tony was actually being serious.
She had just caught him in a vulnerable moment and he was deflecting the only way that he knew how and that was via flirtatious behavior. He didn’t want to kiss her because he liked her. Well, like he really liked her, as in he wanted to be with her for longer than a single night, where they were trapped together in a cheap hotel room with only one bed, her as his only option.
No.
She couldn’t do it no matter how much she wished to know what he tasted like, no matter how alluring he looked in the flickering light of the fireplace. She would regret anything that happened in the morning, and knowing herself she would end up resigning, if Tony didn’t just outright fire her. She may have been his longest lasting PA so far but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still expendable once he got what he wanted.
“Mr. Stark, you are being entirely inappropriate right now,” she answered him, adopting the most detached, work voice in her repertoire and immediately scooting away from him.
He frowned at her but didn’t try to close the gap between them again as he rubbed his eye.
“Back to Mr. Stark now, huh? I thought we were outside of office hours?”
“And sometimes I have to remind you of your boundaries.”
“Why? Do you have a boyfriend or something?”
“Why? Because you’re my boss, it’s inappropriate!” she reminded him, though she still felt a little flustered, even more so when he looked at her again the way he had before he asked her to make out, eyes intense and longing.
He smirked then leaned back up against the wall, his face and mannerisms melting away back to the normal facade of her cavalier boss. He raised his eyebrow to her and spoke. “I can’t help but notice that you didn’t deny having a boyfriend, only that it would be inappropriate given our working relationship.”
“Oh, please,” she groaned. She drained the rest of her cup, then stood up and tossed her pillows back onto the bed and pulled back the duvet.
“Where are you going?”
“To bed.”
“Aww c’mon, Pepper, I’m sorry.”
He stood up and reached for her, just brushing his hand against her flannel shirt before she pulled away. He actually looked a little hurt by the rejection.
“I’m really tired, Mr. Stark and I’d really just like to go to bed now, please. I had your nightcap with you.”
“The slumber party was just getting started. We were having cheap booze, I told you a deep dark secret, there was an almost kiss. You owe me a deep dark secret, Ms. Potts.”
“Don’t count on it,” she said, sliding between the sheets and facing the opposite direction.
For a moment the room was silent except for the sound of the wind and snow outside the room and she thought that Tony might actually have given up. Then she listened to the sound of his shuffling feet and felt where the bed dipped in as he sat down at the very end, almost falling off the edge entirely as if he didn’t want to offend her by getting any closer to her.
“Look I really am sorry. You’re right, it’s been a long day, which is mostly my fault and then I just went a little too far. I didn’t mean anything by it and I am sorry if I offended you or hurt your feelings or whatever. I appreciate all you’ve done for us tonight. Are we good?” At that he did ever so carefully reach out and place his hand on top of her covered foot, a gentle weight meaning to convey his sincerity.
She appreciated the apology, and really had it been that big of a deal? Tony was just being Tony, it wasn’t his fault that she had started to get swept up in the moment. She sighed lightly against her pillow and lifted her head slightly to look at him. He had his head down but met her eyes when she looked at him.
“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” she smiled after her customary phrase to let him know that all was forgiven.
His lips twitched up into a half smile. “That will be all Ms. Potts,” he returned the gesture and patted her leg before standing up.
Pepper had just laid her head back down when he spun back around.
“Actually, no, that’s not it, I’m sorry again. Can I at least get the top sheet? I’m a naturally hot-blooded male but even I need something to keep me warm at night,” he grinned and offered a mischievous wink.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep her own face neutral, a small smile slipping across her face as she sat up and pulled back the duvet again, grasping at the top sheet underneath and pulled it free from where it was tucked in at the end of the bed. She balled it up once it was free and tossed it into Tony’s waiting arms with a little more force than was strictly needed..
“Thank you, Ms. Potts.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark,” she said, her smile completely uncontained now and snuggled once more under the warm blanket, waiting for sleep to claim her.
Or at least she would have if Tony wasn’t so loud as he moved about the room, placing his pillows on the couch and spreading out his white sheet.
Next came the thunk of his heavy snow boots coming off and being dropped on the floor and she said a mental apology for whoever was stuck beneath them as she kept her eyes screwed shut, desperate for him to finish whatever he was doing and be quiet.
Then came the distinct sound of his belt clanging together as he undid the fasten and Pepper’s eyes shot open in disbelief.
Tony unabashedly stood beside the couch, the direction she happened to have been facing, and was actually undressing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t caught more than an eyeful before when she’d come to collect him in the mornings and he certainly never seemed to care about any level of nudeness. However, she thought he would at least attempt to have some modicum of decorum while they were sharing a room. Apparently not.
She could have looked away. She should have looked away. Alas, she watched him undress through squinted eyes in case she were caught, sleep would be easier to feign.
He pulled his green sweater up over his head and she watched as his white t-shirt beneath was caught up with it, revealing the well defined muscles of his back before he corrected the mishap and the t-shirt fell back down to cover it.
When she heard the zipper of his pants being undone she did squeeze her eyes shut, what was she even thinking spying on him like that, even if he was doing it right in front of her. She was ogling her boss in the same manner that she always got onto him for.
“Do you really have to do that right there?” she asked, frustration laden in her tone.
“I thought you were sleeping,” he said with a playful tease, like he knew exactly what she had been doing.
She just huffed and turned around the opposite direction, lest his dark chuckle tempt her to look again.
“Your virtue is safe, Ms. Potts, I had shorts on under my pants.”
“Why were you wearing---I don’t need to know.”
He laughed again. “Goodnight, Pep.”
“Goodnight, Tony.”
-------------------------------------
Tony really tried to fall asleep after that. He spread out under the sheet, across the couch, his legs just hung over the edges where he was a little it too tall. It wasn’t uncomfortable, he was used to curling up anywhere he could to sleep. However, like most nights, he couldn’t seem to be able to get his brain to shut off.
His mind was racing with thoughts, ideas, calculations. How if he adjusted the processor chips for one of Stark Industries missiles he could make it that little bit more accurate. Schematics came and went as he did the mental math and how long it would take to adjust versus the cost and if it was even worth it to tweek or just create a whole new line.
He had other ideas too. Ways to improve the intellicrops. An electronics line that could put Apple to shame.
Sometimes he thought about Pepper. Nothing dirty surprisingly. Just about her. The way she looked in the Malibu sunlight, her hair flared out all around her, or even here in Colorado bundled up in snow gear or her ridiculous flannel pajamas. The way that he sometimes caught her staring at him the same ways he knew she caught him staring at her. She took care of him. Listened to him when she clearly didn’t understand half of what he was talking about. Helped him keep the company going. Put up with his whims. Just thinking about her, even her scolding him could put a smile on his face. If he believed in love then he would definitely equate love with Pepper.
Thinking about love would make him think of his mother, then his father. Jarvis, Ana. What they all would think if they could see him now, spending every free moment drinking or chasing after the only version of companionship he could accept.
Wonder what the world would have been like if he had been in that car with his parents, if he’d told them that he would come. Or what would have happened if he would have spoken to them a little longer.
Hell sometimes he still wondered what happened to Shannon Dorman who gave him his first kiss in second grade when his father wasn’t able to make it to parent weekend at Andover.
The only difference in all these thoughts from a normal person is most people thought about them one at a time. For Tony it was everything all at once. Like someone had left a bunch of tabs open on a computer and they all were playing different music. It was hard to focus and distinguish one thought or emotion from another when he was left idle like this.
He thrummed his hand against the back of the couch, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room, so he stopped. He bounced his foot instead and turned his head to look out the window and watch the large chunks of snow as they continued to fall, not as heavy as before but still steady.
In lieu of counting sheep he tried counting snowflakes. He made it to nearly one thousand before it became just another tab running in the background of his mind.
He needed a drink. Or sex. He didn’t think Pepper would be offering though and he was well mannered enough that he would refrain from slinking away to the bathroom for some self love.
That left Tony with a drink. 10% alcohol content was a drop in the bucket for him but perhaps it would at least let him close out some of those tabs for a while. At least enough so that he could catch a few hours sleep.
Making up his mind, he threw back the covers and walked back over to the fireplace and retrieved the forgotten bottle. There was still a little over half left, it should theoretically do the trick.
He collapsed back against the couch and haphazardly strew the sheet back across him as he took a long pull straight from the bottle. He didn’t figure that Pepper would be wanting anymore tonight so there was no one left to be considerate for. After a couple more long pulls he could feel that little tingle start working its way across his body, warming him from the inside. Whiskey did it better but it was still a pleasant start.
“Tony...” Pepper’s tired voice called out to him and for the first time he noticed her blue eyes watching him.
“What?”
“Don’t drink anymore tonight.”
He tried not to bristle against the perceived admonishment. “Why not?”
“I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business what my boss does,” she said.
“Okay...as my friend then. Why?”
Pepper was quiet for a moment before she shifted around on the bed and clicked on the bedside light and sat up. Her hands were almost hidden by the cuffs of her pajamas but he could see how she twisted them together nervously, one of her only tells of discomfort.
“If you’re serious about what you said earlier, about agreeing with your Aunt...why not start now? Just little steps. You don’t need to drink, you don’t even like that stuff,” she finally spoke, her voice steady and sure despite her earlier nervousness. When Pepper committed to a decision she always went all in.
“Look, I’m sorry that I woke you. I just needed something to help me to sleep. This helps.”
“Well, what normally helps?”
He smiled.
Ah Pepper. Ever the problem solver.
“Normally, I have a glass of whiskey and well, company with me, to tire myself out. That helps usually. When I’m home I can work. Right now I have none of that,” he shrugged.
“Have you thought about taking a sleeping aid?”
Tony scoffed. “Uh. Yeah. That’s not going to work. You missed the early nineties with me so I forgive you, I just try to stay away from anything in pill format these days.”
Pepper brought both of her knees up to her chest and pulled the blanket back over her, one arm resting against her knee and propping her head up as she racked her mind for alternatives. “Is there nothing else that helps?”
“Working out, but I’m not sure you want me doing calisthenics while you’re trying to sleep.”
“What about talking?”
Tony thought it over. He remembered more than one night where he and Jarvis talked until he fell asleep. It was worth a go. At the very least the conversation was a distraction and he had a good partner to speak with.
He nodded his head. “Talking helps.”
“Then talk to me.”
“Aren’t we already?”
Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tell you what, you can try and dig for slumber party gossip if you think it will help.”
“Ohhhh I knew you would warm up to the game,” he said, and took one final sip of the wine before standing and putting it on the bedside table beside Pepper so it would be out of his grasp.
“So, tell me about Virginia Potts. We’ve spent every day together for five years and I feel like I don’t know anything about you aside from your remarkable ability to keep my ass in line, your acumen for business, and your minor shoe addiction.”
Pepper shrugged and to his surprise took her own little drink from the bottle, seemingly nonplussed that he had been drinking straight from it like a heathen. “Well, I’m from a small town in Ohio…”
“Riverbend,” he finished.
She smirked back at him. “So you have checked up on me too.”
“Just your resume and the standard background check when you were originally hired. I did have to make sure you weren’t actually a crazy person you know after the pepper spray incident, you know? Happy wouldn’t let me breathe until I did.”
“And that’s why he is a great bodyguard.”
“Eh, jury is still out on that one. He did let you get by after all.”
There was another genuine smile. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was her smile. He could already feel his mind slowly beginning to calm, just with the little bit of banter between them.
“Anyways, my Dad used to run a farm with my Uncle Morgan but my Uncle was always a little flighty. When that was a bust my father started his own handyman business and then became a contractor. My mother was an elementary school secretary. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to get out of there.”
“Well, yeah. The land of corn and astronauts. There’s gotta be some reason all those guys wanted to leave Earth after a stint in your state. Nevermind the biography let's just get to the fun stuff.”
He could honestly sit and listen to Pepper talk about her life forever. She could be as detailed as a Tolkien novel and he’d never complain. He just wasn’t sure when he would ever get this opportunity for questions again, and while young Virginia fascinated him, he wanted to know more about Pepper now.
She raised her brow questioningly. “Like what?”
“What do you say to a fast money round? Favorite color?”
She laughed a little, surprised perhaps by the simplicity of the question. “Blue. You?”
“Red. Favorite food?”
“Pad thai.”
“Not bad. Mine is pasta carbonara. My mom…” he trailed off a little bit, suddenly struck by a memory of cooking with his mother in the kitchen. So much for forgetting. Pepper looked at him with concern as he mentally regrouped. “She made the best version of it. Authentic.”
His words hung thick in the air until Pepper broke the silence.
“Least favorite food?”
“Caviar. I know I’m probably destroying your elitist view of me but I had a terrible experience as a kid. Never again. You?” he said, grateful for the continuation of their game.
“Strawberries.”
“Really? You have a whole strawberry-blonde aesthetic going on,” he said pointing his finger at her hair.
“Yeah, I’m allergic. Like deathly allergic, so it’s a no go for me.”
“Bummer. There’s some irony for you. Do you want me to ban strawberries from the entire Stark Industries campus? Because I will.”
“I don’t think that is necessary.”
“Well, at least from the house. I’ll have Jarvis erase anything strawberry related from the grocery list.”
“It's really not-”
“Please?” he insisted. He could think of at least ten different running items off the top of his head with strawberry in them. She was in his home just as much if not more than he was, he wanted her to feel comfortable there. “You’re at my house more than your own and the least I can do is make you feel safe. Mi casa es su casa, y’know?
“I hardly think that I need protecting from the big bad strawberries but if it really means that much to your chivalrous pride then yes, delete strawberry related items from your grocery list,” she teased, but her soft smile let him know how it was appreciated.
“Done deal.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”
“You’re welcome Ms. Potts. Now where were we? Oh yes, searching for your deep, dark secret. Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, raising his brow expectantly.
Pepper groaned. “Didn’t you already ask that?”
“You didn’t answer the question. Look, it doesn’t have to be a boyfriend. Girlfriend maybe? You know there’s no judgement from me. It'd be like the pot calling the kettle black because you’ve seen the array of company I keep.”
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend, Tony, sorry to disappoint, and no boyfriend either.”
“Why not? This may be crossing a boundary but you are smoking hot. You can’t tell me you haven’t left a trail of broken hearts from Ohio to California.”
“Like you?”
“No, that’s coast to coast. Global even,” he said with a wink that he knew would draw an eye roll from her.
“Not that it is any of your business,” she predictably began with the eye roll, “but I really haven’t. There was someone in college that I thought maybe...he didn’t want a partner though he wanted a trophy. The people I have dated in between have never lasted very long and I don’t have the time for that right now anyways.”
“Because of me?” he questioned.
“No. I’m just focused on my career and I have been since college. It’s hard finding a person who isn’t intimidated by a powerful woman who knows what she wants. You’d be surprised by all the fragile egos out there.”
“I’m really not. You forget about the people I’ve been expected to mingle with my entire life?”
She smiled at his words and took a few moments to collect her thoughts, her face pinching together in a frown. “I don’t want to compromise my goals just because my partner thinks barefoot and pregnant is a more appropriate title for a woman.”
Tony thought her feelings were perfectly understandable. He couldn’t ever imagine Pepper relegated to taking a back seat in her own life. Not to say that being a mother is less than a corporate business woman, but that idea that someone would want to repress who Pepper was just to fit their own outdated ideals of what a family and relationship should be.
“I agree, Pep, that’s ridiculous.”
If she was shocked by his response she hid it well. Maybe she wasn’t though. He always thought he was a progressive guy, even if sometimes he could be a bit contradictory in his actions. That was mostly for show though. The carefully crafted Tony Stark persona.
“Besides, when would I ever really even have the time to date someone seriously with our schedules? We’re in a fast paced world, where plans can change on a dime…”
“Like spending an extra couple of days skiing, snowboarding and getting caught in a blizzard?”
She held out her hand towards him. “Exactly. Who would understand that? I feel like I’d spend more time justifying my work than actually having a relationship.”
“So, it is my fault then?” he asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.
“Ugh. Maybe a little. Don’t feel too bad,” she said, waving his feelings off. “The last time I did have a semi successful date, the guy ended it with what I’m sure he thought was an earth shattering kiss but he literally kissed like a fish. It was disgusting and ruined the entire night.”
Tony actually cackled at that anecdote. “So, no second date?”
“Oh my god. Definitely not. Completely turned me off of the concept for the foreseeable future,” she laughed with him.
“When was that?”
Pepper thought about it a moment. “About a year ago.”
Tony flinched. “Oof. You sure you don’t wanna make out? You shouldn’t let that be your last kiss.”
“Thanks, tempting but no.”
“Ooh I’ve gone from an outright no to tempting, huh?” Pepper opened up her mouth to protest but he immediately cut her off, pointing his finger at her. “No, no, don’t take it back. You said it. That’s going to be tattooed on my brain for a very long time.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
They both fell silent after that, just enjoying each other’s company. Tony shifted on the couch folding his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Pepper shifted to lay back down on her pillow, she still laid on her side facing him though, he felt her eyes watching him.
“What’s on your mind?” she finally asked.
“Do you ever think you’ll have a family one day?”
“I’ve really never thought about it, to be honest.”
“I find that hard to believe. Even I have thought of it.”
“You have?”
“Hard not to when there’s a new paternity suit every year.”
That was the truth. He had thought of family in the traditional manner of course. Settling down like Aunt Peggy said with a wife and 2.5 children like the American dream dictated. He didn’t see it ever happening, but sometimes it was a nice thought if he didn’t think he would turn out just like his father, cold and neglectful.
The paternity suits were another beast. None ever panned out and he expected none ever would. He may be promiscuous but he wasn’t an idiot. Still, it was always an interesting couple of weeks wondering what if. He wasn’t the type that would pay the mother off he knew that much. He would take an active part in any child of his life, fears be damned.
“I guess it’s not something I’ve ever pined for. Maybe someday in the far off future where I’m the CEO of my own company. Maybe then.”
He turned his head to face her. “You gunning for my job, Potts?
She smiled tiredly back at him. “Maybe I am. I have to keep you on your toes somehow.”
“You’d probably do a better job. You like all the boring details of the job. I just want to be left alone to create.”
“Please. Don't sell yourself short. Creating is your passion, but you have an eye for business. If you didn't then I don't think this company would have survived the last decade and don't say it was all Obadiah either. You're way more progressive than he is.”
“While I appreciate the vote of confidence, weren't you already concerned with how you'd fit my ego in the room though? I don't want to suffocate you.”
“I think I can manage this once. Tony, can I ask you something?” she asked.
Something in the tone of her voice made him look over at her. She was chewing at the bottom of her lip in indecision so he had a pretty good idea that like earlier in the night, whatever she wanted to say was probably something that he wouldn’t like.
“Prying for the deep, dark secrets again?” he asked, going for levity and turning his attention back to the ceiling.
“Why did we stay here after the conference?” she asked softly.
Of course she asked that.
“Just wasn’t ready to go back.”
“You didn’t even want to go to the conference and then you stay here longer? You hate the cold and snow.”
Tony shifted into a slouched position, one arm curving across the back of the couch as he drummed his fingers against the material again. He could feel his heart begin to race as he debated whether he wanted to tell Pepper the truth or not. This was one of those things that had been floating along in his myriad of thoughts and ideas, keeping him up at night the closer that the date approached.
Pepper had shown good faith in him all night, humoring him even though he knew she had to be exhausted. After his behavior he supposed an explanation was the very least that he could provide her.
“I didn’t always hate it,” he began gingerly.
Pepper seemed to make a decision then, sitting back up and moving herself and her pillows to the opposite side of the bed. She left the duvet upturned and patted the empty space beside her invitingly.
“I trust you,” was all she said.
He stood up from the couch and let the sheet fall away as he stretched out his limbs. He wasn’t a very tall man, but he was way too long to be scrunched up on the couch and was thankful for the reprieve. Tony wrapped the sheet back around his body as he slid beneath the warmth of the duvet and flipped the cover up over them both. He turned on his side to face Pepper, propping his chin up with his arm and she mirrored his movements. Tony tried to use the quiet moment to gather his thoughts and not to think about how the warmth he felt from the mattress was from where her body had lain.
“Today...well, yesterday,” he conceded given the hour, “was my mother’s birthday.”
“I didn’t know,” she whispered and shook her head.
“You wouldn’t. I keep my parents close to the vest as much as I can these days,” he shrugged and absolved her from any guilt she might be feeling. Pepper hated not knowing important information.
“I grew up in New York as you know, and she used to love it when it snowed. When I was younger we would build snowmen, snow angels, we made ice cream out of the snow and shared hot cocoa. Whatever you could think of. When I was older, the week of her birthday my parents would take me out of boarding school, and since it doesn’t usually snow in April, we would go to the Alps or Aspen or wherever else and ski, snowboard, whatever. It was one of the only times I ever remember feeling like I was really a part of the family. When she died…” he trailed off softly.
“It was snowing that night?” Pepper inferred. She always knew what he meant to say.
He nodded slowly. “The snow and cold didn’t bring me any kind of joy anymore.”
“So, why now?” she asked gently.
He had come this far. May as well go all in.
“If we’d gone back to Malibu I would have done my best impression of drinking myself to death, like I do every year. I don’t know. I guess something Aunt Peggy said struck a chord and I wanted to try and honor Mom a better way. I still drank but when I’m in public it’s easier to stop. To control it. There’s no control when I’m alone.”
He ducked his head in shame not wanting to see any kind of judgement on Pepper’s face. She knew he had problems. How couldn’t she? She was always one step behind him cleaning up his messes and he had even admitted his problem to her tonight. He just wasn’t sure she knew the full extent. The reason why he was on full lockdown and unavailable on certain dates because he would rather drink himself to death than have to remember.
“If you needed someone to keep you company, all you had to do was ask,” she answered him quietly and he dared to lift his head and take a peek at her face from beneath his hair, trying to gauge the sincerity behind the words.
“I don’t pay you enough for that.”
She immediately frowned. “I don’t need you to pay me. I am your friend, Tony. If you’re struggling, I want to help.”
He wanted to believe her. Oh how bad he wanted to believe her. He could see the sincerity on her face and hear it in her words, He had just had so many experiences that told him the opposite. That everyone had a motive to be close with him, no one really cared. Until Rhodey and Happy. And now Pepper.
He smiled sheepishly and wiped a tear that he didn’t know was there away with the back of his hand. “I guess I don’t know how to ask for help.”
“We’ll work on it,” she said and reached out and brushed the stray hair from his face, her hand lingering as it softly caressed his cheek.
“Hey, Pep,” he began hoarsely, his eyes downturned to the pattern of the duvet, ”in the spirit of asking, I guess I should start learning now.”
“Anything,” she replied honestly and that made him grin for the ghost of a moment.
“Do you think maybe when we get back you could put together a list of some, uh, outpatient facilities for my, uh...you know,” he stumbled.
She moved her hand from his cheek down to grasp his free hand and squeezed it in hers. “Of course.”
“Maybe keep it quiet from Obie and everyone else in case it doesn’t take.”
“It’s a process, Tony. You’ll get there in your own time, but yeah. I can keep it quiet as long as you’ll at least tell Rhodey. He’d want to support you too. And Peggy.”
He clutched her hand in his and ran his thumb across her skin soothingly. “You drive a hard bargain, Potts. You sure you aren’t trying to take my job?”
“Not today.”
“Then I accept your terms,” he said squeezing her hand again.
“Good. Do you think you can sleep?”
“Maybe. I feel a little better.”
“Well. Just try. I’m here if you need me.”
He wanted to tell Pepper that being in such a close proximity to her was part of what was keeping him awake now but he didn’t. Instead he carefully turned and clicked the light off before settling back into his pillow. He wasn’t about to give up this moment for anything, even if he didn’t sleep a wink.
---------------------------------------
Pepper couldn’t believe that she actually was sharing a bed with Tony right now. It had been awhile since her declaration to get some sleep but even though she was dead on her feet she couldn’t seem to get relaxed enough to drift off. Maybe that also had something to do with the fact that Tony was still loosely holding her hand in his and every time he took a breath she could feel it tickle against her skin.
What did all of this mean? Did it even mean anything? She had always prided herself on enforcing boundaries and making sure Tony always stayed on the other side of the invisible line but tonight she felt like they both had leaped over it hand in hand. Skipping over the line between professionalism and friendship right into something more. Just what she could not say yet. Not even in her own mind. It wasn’t able to be defined yet. All she knew was that this little detour in the snowy mountains of Colorado had been a turning point in their relationship, seemingly for the better.
If Tony was comfortable enough now to tell her about such intimate information about his family and his drinking, reaching out to her for help, then that could only be for the better. He didn’t have many people he could trust like that and she was proud to be counted among them.
Were they still just friends though?
“Pepper, I can hear you thinking from over here, what’s on your mind?” he asked groggily, his hand closing around hers once more, causing her to flinch in surprise.
“I thought you were asleep?”
“The room is only big enough for one loud thinker not two. So spill it, what’s going on?” he asked, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal dark brown eyes.
Oh, nothing, just thinking about how distracting it is to be touching you and sharing a bed.
“Just the usual. Wondering if we’ll be able to fly out of here tomorrow. Thinking of everything that will need to be pushed back if we’re not.”
He didn’t buy it for a second she knew but he hummed in assent and kept his eyes locked on her own.
“What?” she chuckled nervously under his gaze.
“Hey, Pepper, now do you want to make out?”
There was something different about the way he asked her this time. Tony wasn’t teasing, he wasn’t vulnerable any longer. Enough time had passed that he had seemed to come back to himself which made this even scarier than all the other times. This time she didn’t doubt the sincerity as he held her gaze, jaw locked firmly in place in anticipation of her response. She was finding it harder to find reasons to turn him down.
“Tony…” she began, hoping for her brain to come up with something. “I know today has been difficult and we have had some really hard and emotional conversations…”
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not that compromised,” he grinned, his face lit up only by the moonlight pouring in from the window.
“I just don’t think that’s going to happen,” she finished lamely.
“Why not?”
She had to give him something real or he would never stop. She slowly pulled her hand away from his, instantly missing the warmth he had provided and hid it beneath her pillow. “I can’t be just another one of those girls, Tony.” He would have to understand that.
“Is that what you think, Pepper?” he asked, unable to mask the small amount of hurt from creeping onto his face and in his tone. He actually looked like a wounded animal.
All she could offer was a shrug in response because it was exactly what she thought from the moment that she had met him until this evening when she finally started to see that other side of him.
“You’re not, Pep,” he reassured her and reached back out and found her hand beneath the pillow anyways. “God you’re not.”
“What’s changed?” she dared to ask.
“You have always been different than everyone else. You’re not someone that I could or even want to throw away. You mean more to me than anyone else in my life. I thought it was obvious by the way that I am a complete and utter disaster without you. I have been wanting this since you first came through my office doors and until tonight I wasn’t completely sure, but I know you like me too. Don’t you?” he asked so earnestly, his eyes opened wide and his eyebrows raised. He looked like a literal puppy, begging to be let in from the cold.
“Tony…” she started to deflect again but he cut her off.
“Look, it’s okay if you don’t, I’m not going to fire you or anything. I don’t want you to ever be worried about that because like you said, we’re friends right?”
She nodded her head gently.
“Good. I just want to know that I’m not crazy, Pepper. That I’m not the only one that gets these weird little butterflies in the pit of my stomach whenever we’re together. You feel it too, right?”
Pepper hesitated a long time, instinctively chewing at her bottom lip again. She had another choice to make. Another boundary to shatter. Should she do it? She let loose a deep full body sigh, ignoring how shaky the exhale really was before she looked him in the eye.
“You’re not crazy,” she admitted.
His face lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You’re my boss,” she simply offered. Another truth. It was inappropriate. The press would always talk about the power imbalance and trash her for falling for it like all the others.
Tony had the nerve to scoff at her words. “Please, if anything you are my boss.”
“Okay then. You don’t do relationships,” she tried again.
“I could try. I want to try. With you,” he clarified gently, his voice lowering to that honeyed timber she loved.
Her heart wanted to sing with his admission. In fact it was. She could feel how quickly it was pumping, the adrenaline sending shockwaves all across her body as she thrummed with anticipation. Her mind however knew otherwise. There was always a but.
“Tony...you’re not ready for that yet.”
And he wasn’t. Her brain knew that even as her heart rebelled. Tony was a mess. On this trip alone he had been with at least three different girls. He was slowly coming to terms with being an alcoholic and what that meant for his personal and professional future as he started to seek help. That was on top of his already full work plate. He didn’t have the time or the mental capacity right now to try and begin a new relationship and to do it the right way. He had no idea the work it would entail. Maybe someday in the faroff future, but not tonight.
His face dropped as his eyes flickered across her face, his hand going loose in hers so she could pull away but she didn’t. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. I’m a bit of a mess aren’t I?” he asked, flashing a pained toothy smile. “It’s fine.”
“Look, I’m not saying no forever,” she clarified. She was helpless against that face.
“So, there’s a chance?” he asked, hopefully.
She squeezed his hand. “Perhaps.”
“Well, in that case I will do my best to become the kind of man you deserve.”
It was probably the most sincere declaration of affection she had ever received and she tried to hide the dopey grin in her pillow. That made him smile back and this time it was him who pulled his hand free to run the back of his hand down her face almost reverently, taking his time and just soaking the moment up.
“Hey, Tony…”
“Yeah?”
“Want to make out?” she asked, coyly.
His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as his head shot off the pillow. “But you said--”
“On one condition,” she continued unperturbed.
“What would that be?”
She waited until he settled back down and then looked away from him nervously. “After tonight...we pretend like it never happened.”
“Never?”
“Never. Can you do that?”
“I can.”
“We can count this as an experiment. Maybe we won’t even like it, maybe it will be too weird,” she shrugged.
“You know me. Always willing to sacrifice anything needed in the name of science,” he teased and scooted closer to her.
She held her breath when she felt his body brush up against her own as he tentatively leaned in closer to her. He brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear and searched her face seemingly for any sign of doubt of discomfort. Anything saying that she was uncomfortable. Aside from her heart beating like a freight train inside her chest though she felt perfectly normal.
“You’re sure?” he asked again. He liked to play the field but she knew that he was always all about consent.
“I’m sure,” she spoke so quietly she could barely even hear her own words.
Pepper met his lips halfway and only had half a second of panic that this was really happening before his lips met hers and with it threw out any sense of logic or reason. Instead her mind was flooded with the happy influx of endorphins as her heart continued to pound away, the fluttering of the butterflies in her stomach melting away into something hotter as it spread across her body.
Her hand reached up to tangle itself in his hair, gently pulling and encouraging him. When he opened his mouth to hers she almost giggled like a school child when she realized she could taste that cheap wine on his tongue like she wondered earlier and also knowing that it had never tasted better than it did right now.
It was like a spark had been lit between them and nothing else existed.
All that she knew were his lips, the smell of his aftershave and collage blending together in perfect harmony, some kind of leather and sandalwood type smell, not his usual expensive brand and she found that curious. His hands rove from caressing her cheek to burying themselves in her hair as well, or running up and down her back softly. It made a shiver go down her backside and he only pulled her closer for it.
She actually whimpered when he pulled away, mouth still parted and wanting as they both were left breathless.
“Weird?” he asked, after a moment, his sweet breath tickling her nose, he was still so close.
“No, I don’t think so,” she immediately shook her head.
“Good, once more for science?” he asked, but it was rhetorical and she never got the chance to respond.
Oh, how she wished that this never had to end. That it was the future already and Tony’s life was put together the way that they both hoped it would be. That the endless parade of booze and women was over and he was celebrating his sobriety and they were away celebrating. But it wasn’t. And this did have to end before it got too far.
Pepper pulled away from him slowly, letting him chase her and kiss her softly a couple more times as he came back down from the rush. She put a finger to his lips to prevent him from anymore but he just kissed her index finger instead.
“I think that’s enough for one evening,” she said, regrettably.
He looked as disappointed as she did but also satisfied in a way that she had never seen him except maybe after some breakthrough on a project. His hand stayed buried in her hair, brushing and pulling at the strands.
“It will never be enough. But I think we have collected sufficient data for the future,” he grinned dopily in the waning light of the moon.
This time Pepper did giggle and she blamed it on the swell of emotions mixing with her utter exhaustion.
“You could say that,” she agreed when her giggles subsided.
He gazed at her longingly and licked his lips, her attention instantly flying to his tongue. She knew what he tasted like now, and she didn’t ever want to forget it.
“Since this night never happened, might I trouble you for one more thing?” he asked hesitantly.
She clenched her teeth worried about what kind of favor exactly he had in mind and if it was going to put a damper on their evening.
“What is it?” she asked cautiously.
“Can I hold you tonight?” he asked, his voice barely coming out in a soft rumble that sent more shivers down her body.
Of all the requests she wasn’t expecting that one. Not something so innocent.
“Well, since it never happened,” she simply said with a shrug of her shoulder and moved in closer beside him.
The hand that had been in her hair moved as he laid on his back and let her tuck herself in against his chest comfortably, before encircling her, the reassuring weight of his bicep against her back. She tentatively let her own arm creep across his torso and gently fist into the fabric of his shirt as she inhaled his scent beneath her. She heard more than felt when he kissed the top of her head.
“Goodnight Ms. Potts,” he said, his voice already thick with exhaustion. She thought he might actually be able to get some sleep tonight.
“Goodnight Mr. Stark.”
They missed the brilliant sunrise the next morning, and the gentle rapping at the door of the nervous general manager checking in on his guests. When she woke it was with the comfort of Tony’s arms still around her as he snored softly in the morning light.
They made it back to Malibu of course. Back to Stark Industries and deadlines and projects. Tony did start at an outpatient program and he did make that call to Peggy Carter to apologize and to his best friend to let him know what he was doing.
They never spoke about that night.
Whenever, she’d start to feel like it was all just some strange, exhaustion induced fever dream though, she would catch Tony looking at her. Not the way that he always had with what she figured was nothing more than base lust. No, now he looked at her almost lovingly. Reverently. Hopefully. Like she hung the stars and the moon and nothing else existed in that moment. Then she was reminded of that moment. How he looked, how he felt pressed against her.
If she ever did start to forget though and his gaze was not enough to remind her, she would come and find him. At home, at work. She’d slip away to where they could be alone and he could remind her once more, that what happened was real. What she was feeling for him and he for her was real
They could never talk about it just yet.
Instead it was like it never happened.
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Past-Present-Future
Black Dahlia
Two major tragedies bring Lee Mirae closer to the edge as she goes through the stages of grief in a more violent manner that would affect not only her relationships with her boyfriend Jeong Yunho and her half-brother Choi San, but also has her becoming closer with the immortal mutant Kang Yeosang. Fueled by rage, grief, and pain, along with a very rude awakening that has Mirae spiraling out of control and questioning everything she holds dear.
Group: ATEEZ
Member: Yunho
Pairing: Jeong Yunho / OC
Genre: Action, adventure, angst, fantasy
Watch Out! : Violence, blood, death, grief and loss, major character deaths, use of weapons, some jealousy (but no cheating ofc), implied smut (not sure if there is any but i’m putting it out there nonetheless), mental illness (probably?), gambling and alcohol
Anything else? : Mentions of other idols of course as well as other characters. SuperM, Dean, Chanyeol, Zelo, soloist Park Jihoon to name a few.
Author’s Note: First chapter is here! Compared to the previous stories from the AU, this might have very long chapters, like more than 10 pages in google docs long. But anyway, tag list is open, and yeah. Enjoy the first of a rollercoaster of emotions.
This whole first chapter also, is me giving brief backstories of what happened before/backstories of many characters here. Basic plot is mine, characters are not. This is all for fun/entertainment/emotional anguish.
Masterlist
Chapter 1
When one is at their breaking point, everything begins to change.
The lines between right and wrong are blurred, and one’s moral compass begins to spin into oblivion.
9:00 p.m.
Laughter filled the almost empty space of Viva Polo, having closed for the night except for a table occupied by Lee Mirae, Park Chanyeol, and Kwon Hyuk. The rest of the tables had already been overturned, marking the end of another day at work, at least for Chanyeol. The three of them had a tradition of meeting up every week, something they started doing after the previous adventures they had.
The three of them were mutants, and to their knowledge, they were the last surviving members of the group that saved the country, if not the world during the Seoul attack. A year after that, the three of them found each other again, reuniting to save the country once again from an evil cult bent on achieving utopia through taking control of its citizens. Two adventures that had major consequences on the three of them, and events that they will forever remember.
Two of them, Mirae and Hyuk, were classified as omega-level or level 5 mutants, with powers that were impossible to surpass by any other mutant thus far. Mirae was not only gifted in a mastery of hand-to-hand combat, both armed and unarmed, but she had the gift of manipulating potential energy into kinetic energy. She could turn virtually any object into an explosive and if channeled to an extreme extent, was able to level a skyscraper.
With her abilities came the secondary gift of a healing factor that made her almost immortal and slowed down her aging immensely. Because of her ability to manipulate energy, she was also able to generate static that resulted in a very strong psychic block that was only made stronger by another omega-level mutant, Jang Ino. From the adventures she had on her own and even after the Utopian cult, another ability manifested itself in her; taking souls and trapping them into objects, usually her deck of cards.
Meanwhile, Kwon Hyuk, a well-known music producer and songwriter, was a level 5 telekinetic and could move anything with his mind. His psychic abilities also gave him the gift of producing shields that were almost impenetrable.
In their adventure into the Utopian cult, Hyuk developed his telepathic abilities, which he used to extract memories or read into memories of others. Hyuk was nearly captured by the goons from the Utopian cult when they met again, and has since tried to use his powers as discreetly as possible with some difficulty.
Hyuk didn’t formally join Mirae and Chanyeol until the later days of the Seoul attack, having laid low, undiscovered by Ino who was at the time, serving his father Professor Inhwan Jang. Hyuk had openly used his powers in front of the group during a time when Mirae and one of her other colleagues, a telekinetic named Luhan, were affected by the goblin king’s inducement of traumatic memories that caused their powers to manifest for the first time.
It was there that Hyuk realized that he could do so much more with his mutant gifts, rather than use them solely for trivial purposes.
Hyuk had a cousin, the singer Lee Midam, who was under his entertainment agency, in the 10-member group called Silver. Midam was, like him, a psychic, but of a different kind. Midam was a psychic that could make the worst fears or strongest desires of another person come to life before them. Midam also had the ability to sense when a person will die in the near future.
Park Chanyeol was a level 4 pyrokinetic, also known as an alpha-level mutant. He created and manipulated fire in all its aspects, from turning into a fire being to being able to put out and set fire onto virtually anything. In his fire form, he was granted the ability to fly and heal and even out of his fire form, Chanyeol could withstand extreme heat.
He worked with Mirae in the Center for Paranormal Research upon his discovery by Ino, leaving his work in his mother’s Italian restaurant behind to find purpose for his abilities. For some time after the Seoul attack, Chanyeol thought he was the only one left, until he was seen by another survivor, their tech guy Choi Junhong, looking over the remains of what used to be the Center, the epicenter of the entire attack.
From the adventures they had, the three of them still managed to continue with their lives. Hyuk stayed in his agency to work on music, Chanyeol helped around his parents’ restaurant and live club, while Mirae ran the music store that she took ownership in after the passing of her adoptive parents. Hyuk and Chanyeol also helped other mutants like them, Mirae’s old colleagues from her days as an assassin under a sanitarium, practice controlling their powers.
With the way the events of the past years shaped them, their lives would forever be intertwined and they knew it. Even with the disagreements that occurred in the final days of the Seoul attack, with the three of them being the only survivors from that group that acted, they were like family to each other.
“One of these days, we’ll go on a mission, do something, just the three of us again,” Chanyeol said fondly, finishing the last slice of pizza from his place.
“Even if we don’t go on something like that, we should still do something, just the three of us,” Mirae repeated with a grin. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah, someone needs to watch your back this time, you nearly got your powers taken away,” Hyuk pointed out, taking a sip of his iced tea.
The last adventure Mirae went on involved a demon and their followers, the one responsible for a long-running conspiracy that went behind the glitz and glamour of the country’s entertainment industry. Mirae was outmatched and captured, her powers being used to channel the summoning of the demon Ose. It left her boyfriend Yunho and her half-brother San, along with her old colleagues including immortal mutant billionaire Kang Yeosang, to be the ones to save her and the world.
Mirae shook her head. “It was only one time. Just one. But I’m starting to think I’m losing my touch, to be honest,” She looked down at her now-empty plate.
“I wouldn’t think of it that way if I were you,” Hyuk patted her shoulder. “You still have your powers, don’t you? Didn’t Junhong say your powers only got stronger after that? You’re practically invincible.”
“Says the person who is also practically invincible,” Mirae grinned.
“But I don’t heal like you do. Chanyeol doesn’t even heal like you unless he sets himself on fire.”
“Can you stop talking about injuries now? I think we’ll be late for that training session both of you promised the guys,” Mirae nudged the telekinetic.
Chanyeol got up at the mention of the training session. All of their plates floating in mid-air, the cutlery and glasses sorting themselves out, as Hyuk followed the taller male into the kitchen, making sure nothing dropped. Mirae smiled to herself as she removed the tablecloth and the napkins.
The boys at the safehouse would be waiting for them, San and Yunho included. Choi San was her half-brother, and had almost the same abilities as her, including her healing factor and a mastery of martial arts. Unlike Mirae, who channeled her powers mainly through her extendable staff, San channeled his into a harpoon gun.
San’s powers first manifested in his high school years, as a result of the constant pressure placed on him by their father, who wanted him to pursue a career he himself wanted. Upon learning how to control his abilities better, San ran away from home, eventually learning the skills he knew to become a paid hitman. San also witnessed Mirae getting taken away to be interned at the sanitarium, and he looked everywhere for her.
Jeong Yunho was Mirae’s boyfriend. Yunho was also like her, skilled in hand-to-hand combat, both unarmed and armed. Yunho was also a mutant, an immortal mutant who possessed the ability to teleport, but could only do so in dark places.
Yunho’s powers manifested when he was killed in Morocco during what would be Mirae’s final mission before she was discharged. Her memories of him were seemingly erased in the final electroshock therapy session used to alter her recollection of missions. They only found each other again when Mirae was being targeted by the Kang crime family, descendants of Yeosang who held a disdain for mutants.
Hyuk returned from the kitchen. “What’s that smile about?” He asked.
“Nothing, nothing, I just realized how it’s been a while since we did something like this together,” Mirae replied.
“Lee Mirae, you’re getting sappy.”
“Did I lie?” She laughed.
“No, but that’s weird of you,” Hyuk laughed as well. “I mean you are right. I’ve been busy practically managing the group, Chanyeol’s busy here, we’re just busy living our lives.”
“My point stands that we’ve never done anything together in a while, unless those goblins come up again and try to kill us,” Mirae joked.
“Hopefully not,” Said the psychic, the table in front of them turning itself over on top of another table. “Even with the way things ended back then, I’m glad the three of us found each other.”
The kitchen doors opened and Chanyeol returned, wiping his hands, with his backpack in tow. “Whose car are we using?” He asked.
Without another word, the three of them extended their fists. Both Mirae and Chanyeol had scissors, while Hyuk’s hand remained curled into a fist. “Guess it’s yours then, Mr. Psychic,” Mirae grinned.
“Be glad I stopped for gas before coming here,” He gave them a look as they left the restaurant.
~
The car pulled up in front of a brick-walled building that had a vending machine. It was the entrance to the safehouse that now became the headquarters of everything mutant-related. It was also where Mirae’s old colleagues were now staying, with the exception of two; Jung Wooyoung and Park Seonghwa.
The three of them got out, sensing the slight change in the air as they approached the machine. They knew there was a sort of cloaking over the spot that shielded anyone from seeing that the vending machine moved to the side to reveal a secret passage. Chanyeol, Mirae, and Hyuk entered the dark passageway and stopped at the red door at the very end.
The safehouse was similarly modeled to the recreation room in the Center for Paranormal Research, with a couch and beanbags surrounding a flat-screen television and several game consoles. There was a sleeping quarters and a shower area and a kitchen that was only stocked with instant food. Ino and Junhong’s labs and offices were in the two other doors in the kitchen area that had a small dining table where they would at least take turns in eating.
This time, the safehouse had since expanded thanks to Ino’s ability to manipulate matter. Junhong’s lab was much bigger, more beds were added to the sleeping quarters, and there was a small training room that Junhong fortified. A shelf was behind the television, showing all the weapons carried by the group of men who now resided in the place; a rapier, a set of nunchaku, and a few axes and shurikens. Those belonged to three people: Kim Hongjoong, Choi Jongho, and Song Mingi.
All of them were trained assassins, skilled in hand-to-hand combat both unarmed and armed. While Mirae and Yunho were no longer part of the group, the remaining members were turned into personal guards of the Kang crime family and underwent several experiments to turn them into super soldiers. All of them were impervious to pain and were a lot more agile in their movements.
It was those experiments that triggered the mutant gene in each of them, their own mutant abilities manifesting around the same time. Hongjoong possessed superhuman speed and could be as fast as the speed of light that also enabled him to heal if wounded. Seonghwa was a telekinetic, whose powers also made itself known if his eyes and fingertips glowed green. Mingi, like Chanyeol, was also a pyrokinetic, but unlike Chanyeol, could only manipulate flames that already exist.
Wooyoung on the other hand, possessed the ability to turn into a shadow being. His shadow form allowed him to be intangible, as well as give him superhuman strength and a healing factor. But along with his shadow form, Wooyoung developed a kind of extrasensory perception, where he could see past and future events from a person or an object, or even a name.
Jongho had the painful ability to manipulate his bone structure, and his arms and legs would produce a sharp spike that could pierce anything.
They immediately noticed that a few other weapons were shelved, as they were likely in the labs or in the training room; a set of sai, katanas, a bow and a quiver full of arrows, and the harpoon gun. Everyone was indeed present.
“Hello?” Hyuk called out as they closed the door behind them.
“We’re here!” Chanyeol called out as well.
“Yunho? San?” Mirae spoke, looking around the empty living room.
Suddenly materializing in front of them was Ino. “Good! You’re all here! The rest of them are in the training rooms, but can you wait a little bit? There’s something I’m finishing and I hope the three of you can test it out for me,” He said.
Jang Ino was a prime example of a true omega-level mutant, with abilities so powerful he was almost like a god. Ino had the gift of manipulating matter, inter-dimensional teleportation, telekinesis, telepathy, duplication with sentient clones, intangibility, precognition as well as the ability to see everything as it happened. Ino’s abilities manifested much later than the rest of them despite not being much older than Chanyeol, Hyuk, and Mirae, and thus had more difficulty trying to control each of his abilities.
“Really? What is it?” Mirae asked as Chanyeol put down his backpack while she put down her staff.
Ino looked excited. “Another training room, or…?”
“Another Danger Room,” Hyuk nodded. “Can it not turn into a vortex manipulator again?”
“I can’t promise that, but it’s as safe as ever, right? Just like old times,” Ino was beaming. “Ah, well, you might as well see it for yourself. I’ll call the rest of them,” and he disappeared.
“Are we supposed to wait for them here?” Chanyeol glanced at them, and they shrugged.
A commotion erupted from the door that was Junhong’s lab, making them turn around. “For a telekinetic, you could’ve aimed better! You could’ve killed me!” Hongjoong appeared, shooting Seonghwa a look.
“You sped away in time! You knew it wasn’t going to reach you anyway!” Seonghwa argued back.
“Well I wasn’t able to, not when Mingi keeps playing with that lighter of his! It’s like having to pass by a dragon each time I’m next to him.”
“So your situation is actually my fault, is that what you’re saying?” Mingi spoke, looking at them incredulously. “I was practicing my pyrokinesis the way Chanyeol hyung showed me, right, San?”
“Stop including me!” said the male who had a visible white streak in his hair similar to Mirae’s.
“This was a department store-bought shirt and Jongho just had to ruin it!” Wooyoung shrieked, pointing to the tears in his sleeve.
“Welcome to my world, Wooyoung! Live with it!” Jongho shot back.
“At least I don’t have spikes coming out of my sleeves and pants!”
Chanyeol and Mirae exchanged looks. Hyuk stifled a laugh. “Kind of reminds you how much we bickered back then, huh? I bet those guys would’ve loved to see a repeat of this,” He chuckled.
“Nothing seems to have changed after all,” Mirae laughed, their reactions making the group stop in their tracks. “We just had dinner,” She explained. “I see training’s been going well?”
“Not so much when the rest of them bicker more than San and I do,” out of the group came Yunho, who immediately swept her up in a hug then exchanged high fives with Hyuk and Chanyeol as he pulled away.
The taller form of Junhong appeared from the crowd as well, with scorch marks on his lab coat and a hole in his clipboard. Ino had materialized again as well. “So, the Danger Room, Junhong?” Hyuk asked.
“Yes, yes, the Danger Room,” Junhong led them to the pair of doors on the other side of the space. He pushed the button, the doors opening up to reveal a dark room covered in what looked like steel tiles. There was a panel of buttons near the doors from the inside and on one side of the room, was a booth. “Ta-da!” He announced, looking over at the three of them, while the rest looked amazed.
“A little shift in elements here and there, I was able to expand this entire space of ours, make it a little more familiar, don’t you think?” Ino smiled.
Mirae approached the panel of buttons near the side. “Ice fortress, dystopia, post-apocalypse, zombie invasion, alien invasion, gladiator arena,” She read out. Mirae turned to the next set of buttons and looked over at Junhong. “Why is my name at the top of this panel? Am I a level of difficulty?” She asked, looking puzzled.
“The highest,” Ino spoke. “But that level’s reserved for the three of you, not that these guys can’t do it, but the three of you are more experienced.”
“San and Yunho are just as experienced, if you ask me,” Mirae pointed out with a shrug, choosing not to argue any more.
“Yes, but they’ve never been through the same missions as you and Chanyeol did back at the Center, remember?” Ino reminded her. “The creatures at the museum, the goblin warriors at the train station, and their throne room, and the jewelry store at night?”
“I remember the jewelry store one,” Hyuk said, glancing at her. “We were coming from dinner when the store exploded. It was the time I found out Mirae was a mutant.”
Mirae smiled at her friend’s recollection. “Yeah, you came from that singing competition too.”
Chanyeol grinned. “The train station, I remember that well. Everyone hated us when they saw what was happening in broad daylight. Junmyeon got hot coffee thrown at him...” He looked down the more he remembered.
Ino noticed Wooyoung squinting at him, the rest of them looking fascinated by their brief trip down memory lane. “Well, I thought I’d show the rest of them how the three of you would do things in these simulations. Hyuk, I know you joined us late at the time, but you still know a thing or two on how to handle non-human entities, right?” He said.
“Oh yeah, I was with you all at the Esteholm,” Hyuk smiled. Sensing everyone else’s confused expressions, he chuckled. “It’s a hidden marketplace for non-humans, goblins, witches, warlocks, ogres…”
“You mean those things were actually here all this time?! On this planet?!” Mingi gaped at him and they nodded.
“Okay, okay, we’ll have a lot of time to talk about that later, but let’s have the three of you take this new Danger Room for a test run?” Ino suggested. “The rest of you follow Junhong into the booth, we’ll all watch from there.”
“What are we taking on?” Mirae asked.
Hyuk approached the panels. “What about…” He stopped when he read the mode at the bottom. “Evil villain mansion? What kind of mode is that?” He laughed.
Chanyeol and Mirae laughed as well. Mirae glanced at the booth, giving a thumbs up to Yunho and San, who looked excited as did the rest of them. “It’s exactly what it is. The mansion of the bad guy,” Junhong said from the booth.
“Alright then, put up the difficulty rate to my name, I guess,” Mirae said.
“That’s what I had in mind. Initializing evil villain mansion, Lee Mirae difficulty,” Junhong announced.
Hyuk backed away, until he was back to back with Chanyeol and Mirae. They heard tiles shifting and a swirling of colors all around them, bringing in a strong gust of wind. Mirae took out her staff from her jacket pocket and extended it. After a few moments, the swirling was disappearing, and they found themselves in what was the ballroom of a large, abandoned house that had some bits of modern technology on the locks of the doors and the windows.
“Okay, so this is the evil villain mansion,” Chanyeol mumbled as they took in their surroundings. “Where’s the evil villain, then?”
Mirae took a step forward, seeing two metal circles near the large fireplace. There was a seven-pointed star engraved on one circle, a hexagon that had the shape of a keyhole in the middle engraved on the other. The circles began to turn, until it slowly went up to reveal coffin-shaped tubes.
“This is oddly specific,” She muttered.
Hyuk and Chanyeol stared at the tubes as well. The closer they looked, they saw bodies, blackened and as if they had been mummified. “This is very specific,” Chanyeol nodded, feeling a chill down his spine as they approached the tubes.
Back at the booth, the rest of them stared at what was happening. “Can they see us?” Jongho asked curiously.
“I don’t think they can, can they?” Hongjoong glanced at Junhong, who was looking at the panels of controls. “But the surroundings look so real.”
“I know I should be used to this, but this is something I’ve never seen before…” San was staring at the tubes that were opening up in front of the three.
“Me neither, and I thought I’ve seen everything,” Yunho nodded.
From the side of the room, Wooyoung could suddenly see flashes of scenes in his head. He looked back at what was happening, seeing Hyuk, Mirae, and Chanyeol nearly destroy the surroundings they were in as humanoid demons with large talons began to attack them. The flashes kept coming. He could see people he hadn’t seen before having been inside the very booth they were in. Yet, Wooyoung wasn’t sure if this had already happened or it was about to happen. He stayed watching the simulation that Mirae, Hyuk, and Chanyeol were in.
~
“Kind of familiar, isn’t it? The train station,” Mirae’s eyes and fingertips were glowing as she sent shockwaves towards the two demons, but to no avail. Instead, the demons clapped their hands, sending similar shockwaves towards her. “They’re parrots.”
“What do you mean parrots?” Chanyeol had transformed into his fire form, dodging the attacks that were coming towards him.
“They’re copying everything we do,” Mirae spun her staff a few times before hitting the demon, only to be sent back by the other, who had turned into a fiery figure as well.
“Can they copy this?” Hyuk waved his hand, sending the two demons in mid-air. His eyes widened when the figure also raised their claws at him, lifting him up and off the floor. “This is impossible-” He crashed into the wall, moving away when some of the decor fell down.
“Looks like Junhong had his work cut out for him,” Chanyeol tried to burn down the doors of the room until the surroundings changed into what looked like a massive dock full of zeppelins and tables full of volatile chemicals in test tubes and beakers. “Yeah, now I can see why Mirae turned into a level of difficulty.”
“Let’s try not to touch anything, or interact with anything on those tables,” Mirae looked around on alert.
They heard a blast from all the way on the other side of the room. “Looks like they found us,” Hyuk said, trying to move the zeppelins as carefully as possible towards the source of the blasts.
“Those might explode if you let them get blasted,” Chanyeol called out at the telekinetic.
“Would you rather we get out of here with those? We don’t even know what to use these for” Hyuk pointed out, still trying to move the airships as the blasts grew louder, the impact exploding the tables closest to it. “At least they get blasted and we don’t-”
Boom.
There was a blast on their side of the dock, sending the three of them to the floor, as bits of shrapnel and the chemicals on the tables exploded. A large cloud of smoke enveloped them, soon revealing that they were no longer at the dock. They were back in the Danger Room, or at least what was left of the Danger Room.
Mirae opened her eyes, feeling considerably beaten as she looked around, surprised at what she was seeing. Her clothes were scorched, her staff was gone, and from the gust of wind that hit her, she realized what happened.
The safehouse seemed to have exploded.
Mirae looked around for a sign of Chanyeol and Hyuk. Was she still in the simulation? “Mirae! Mirae! Mirae! Are you alright?” She turned around, seeing Junhong, Yunho, and Hongjoong run up to her. “The machines overloaded when I was about to take you three out of there,” The tech guy explained.
She nodded, a feeling of dread suddenly overcoming her as she looked around the area. “Chanyeol? Hyuk?” She called out, kicking away a few bits and pieces of the rubble that surrounded them. “Chanyeol-” She stopped, feeling her heart sink.
Chanyeol was lying on the floor, a puddle of blood near his head, and bits of shrapnel having hit his sides. Mirae looked around for a sign of the telekinetic, only to realize that he was also lying on the floor, eyes glazed over. A piece of shrapnel hit his head.
“Chanyeol, Hyuk,” Mirae bent down, moving the rubble away from her best friends. She refused to believe it, refused to think that what happened really happened. “Chanyeol, Hyuk,” She took one of the sharp rocks and cut open her wrist, pouring some of the blood into where Chanyeol was hit. “Come on, both of you, this isn’t funny,” She saw that they weren’t moving while her wrist had already healed.
Junhong bent down to check Hyuk’s pulse, only for his expression to fall when he realized there was none. “Mirae,” He tried to say.
“No, I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t believe you,” Mirae shook her head profusely, crawling up to Hyuk. Tears were already falling from her eyes as the reality was hitting her bit by bit. “No, no, this can’t happen, not here, not now, no,” She patted his face, but no response. “No, Hyuk, no, don’t, please-” A sob escaped her as she held his body. “Hyuk, no, no, no, no, no,” She sobbed, reaching out to hold Chanyeol’s hand that was going cold. “No, please no, Chanyeol, Hyuk, you two can stop it now, please…”
“Mirae,” Junhong said again.
Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged looks, hearing the rest of their colleagues including San appear, all of them had traces of the smoke from the explosion on them.
“No!” Mirae shook her head again, until she broke down. They were gone. Her best friends. Gone.
#kdiner#ateez#ateez au#ateez scenarios#ateez timestamps#ateez angst#seonghwa#park seonghwa#ateez seonghwa#hongjoong#kim hongjoong#ateez hongjoong#yunho#jeong yunho#ateez yunho#yeosang#kang yeosang#ateez yeosang#san#choi san#ateez san#mingi#song mingi#ateez mingi#wooyoung#jung wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#jongho#choi jongho#ateez jongho
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