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superhero--imagines · 2 years

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A/N: I just love historical AU, I could also totally see Dick Grayson pulling something like this lol

The kingdom of Oceania spans approximately forty-four thousand, five hundred and eighty-two square miles, it’s main exports are saltwater pearls and sea salt, and houses a modest population of twenty-three million. And of those twenty-three million citizens, one of the most important public figures is currently resting his head in his arms on your desk, staring up at you with puppy dog eyes.

‘I wish he wouldn’t do stuff like this.’

“What can I help you with your highness?” You keep your eyes fixed on the paperwork on your desk, your ears trained on the scratching noise of your pen against paper.

“I told you not to call me that.” You allow yourself a quick glance, the frown on his face only curling down further.

“My sincerest apologies for my transgression, your majesty, third sun of the holy Kingdom of Oceania, Prince Perseus Jackson.” An impatient huff whistles past his lips, and you finally look away from the documents to meet his gaze. His mouth is creased in a fine line, link creeping onto his cheeks when you meet his famous ocean half-green-half-blue eyes.

“I told you to just call me Percy when it’s just the two of us.”

It’s true, he has urged you to call him by his nickname once or twice. Making the same exact expression he is right now when you continue to call him by his official title.

Perseus Jackson, second prince of the holy kingdom of Oceania, second in line for the throne, and the illegitimate son of king Poseidon and the daughter of a fallen noble in the countryside.

Six medals glitter on his uniform, one for every year he’s gone to war. That Perseus Jackson, the war hero, the commoner prince, the boy that burst into high society at thirteen years of age and won the hearts of every noble, is currently the cause of your mental gymnastics.

‘I’ve called him by his official title twice, and twice he’s insisted on being called his nickname. Either his etiquette lessons haven’t had any impact or he wants to get his way, so what’s the right thing to do in this situation?’

“Of course…Percy.” His nickname leaves in slow, halted syllables, but if he senses your inner turmoil he doesn’t let on. Instead a grin bright enough to blind someone spreads across his face.

“What can I help you with?” Your hands thread together on the table.

‘He probably needs a favor, probably something about the war he just came back from, he must have charmed some poor thing from the country and had his way with them and now he needs a political favor to cover it all—‘

“Would you have some tea with me?”

‘Huh?’

You watch this nineteen year old boy fidget slightly, averting his eyes from your confused gaze.

“W-we haven’t had much time to talk since I came back, I want to know how you’ve been.”

‘Is that really all?’

“I-I unfortunately cannot at the moment, I have to finish the paperwork for the war.” Even the mention of the stack of work in front of you is enough to get a long sigh to whistle past your lips. All anyone see when a war is over are the victory celebration, and who the ‘hero’ was—not much thought went into the logistics of war, even after a side won there was money to be paid as compensation for the deceased and injured, resources to be moved from one area to another, and reparations to damaged areas.

‘Which means I’ll probably be here all night organizing the rejuvenation efforts.’ You think, stifling a yawn.

“Is that why you’ve been so cold lately? Because you have all of this work because of me?” Percy asks, flashing you those puppy-dog eyes that might even bring Duke Ares to his knees.

‘I’m upset because everytime you show up, it feels like I’m getting a decades worth of etiquette exams in thirty minutes.’

“It’s not like I wanted to go, you know,” he huffs, leaning his arms on the front of your desk. “Triton insisted that someone from the royal family should go.”

‘Then the damn bastard should have gone himself.’

You can’t blame Triton, the crown prince, for becoming wary of Percy. Truthfully, if you had been in his place you may have felt the same.

‘Prince Percy has the uncanny ability to always exceed the expectations of those around him.’

You’re certain that Triton’s been hoping Percy wouldn’t return from one of the countless wars that rage against the kingdom, only to be shocked when Percy not only returned, but with tales of bravery and victory nipping at his feet. Still—

“You think he’d figure out after the first three wars it wasn’t working in his favor.” The words escape your mouth unintentionally, you and Percy share a startled look, your hand slamming over your mouth.

‘Well, it’s been a nice twenty years of life. But now that I’ve slandered the royal family I’ll be executed, looks like mother was right, my mouth really did end up killing me.’

Percy’s laugh break you out of your morose thoughts, your eyes widen when you look up to see him. The rosy tint of his cheek, the boyish tug of his smile, the golden aura of joy that radiates off of him—

‘You couldn’t ask for a more charismatic prince.’

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” He says, leaning back in his chair, a smirk twitching into his lips. “I don’t know why he’s so paranoid, I already told him I don’t want to be King.” You feel like you’ve traded one secret for another, you criticize a royal and in exchange Percy disparages the throne—both punishable actions.

“Hey, if I help you with this paperwork, you’ll be able to join me for tea won’t you? Well I guess it’ll be late…how about dinner instead?” You watch this prince, the most popular boy in all of Oceania, fuss over the paperwork stacked in his vassals office, a smile threatening to curl into your lips. It’s certainly not proper etiquette to let a prince help you with your work but…

“If you can handle the organization of revitalization in damaged areas, I can do the rest and we can make it in time for afternoon tea.”

‘Some mistakes are worth making.’

The smile he gives you is more than worth the possible punishment. The kingdom of Oceania spans approximately forty-four thousand, five hundred and eighty-two square miles, its main exports are saltwater pearls and sea salt, and houses a modest population of twenty-three million. And of those twenty-three million citizens, you seem to have a soft spot for the most important person out of all of them.

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson imagine #percy pjo #pjo #pjo x you #pjo x y/n #pjo x reader #superhero--imagines

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glystenangel · 2 years

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Better in Love

Bodyguard!Toji x Brat&Afab!Reader (Historical AU)

Series Summary: you're the daughter of a feudal lord, and Toji becomes your bodyguard. then, you fall in love

Chapters: 5/5

Chapter Summary: you and toji find your way back home

Status: Completed

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, corniness, reassurance, cuddling 'n' kissin, mentions of previous sex

~1.6k

thanks for reading and enjoy<3

Ch. 5 - Better

The next morning, you were sure Toji would have to continue his promise to carry you back home. Your entire pelvis felt sore, and your shoulders still carried pins and needles from the amount of orgasms that seized your muscles until late into the night. Toji seemed drunk on the way your body twisted around his cock and tongue, so he hadn’t been sympathetic to you after the first few rounds. The memories made you salivate. Even in this state, you would oblige his every whim and then some without hesitation. As cruel as he was, he made sure to keep your pleasure at the forefront of his mind and told you how good you were every chance he could. At one point, it was all he could say against your neck. Although you could hardly move, you were sure you would be worse off if you hadn’t caught him in time before he left.

At that thought, your eyes opened and you startled fully into the waking world. Panic rushed through you, but then you felt Toji’s chest against your own and the unmistakable feeling of his arm around your waist.

“‘S the matter?” He grumbled, and you instantly relaxed into his touch.

When you didn’t answer, he nudged his chin against the top of your head.

“Thought I was leaving again?”

You looked up and shyly nodded, and he sighed as he drew you up to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

“Why did you try to yesterday?” You meekly met his gaze, the worry settling into your stomach and showing in your eyes.

The dark haired man let out another sigh, studying your pouted lips and thoughtfully playing with the ends of your hair.

“I haven’t loved anyone else for a long time. I suspected you didn’t reciprocate my feelings as strongly…and then there was the whole arranged married thing. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna stick around just to watch you marry another man. I didn’t think I could measure up, still don’t. I got nothing to offer you.”

The explanation made you soften, “You’re more than enough! And truthfully, I don’t think I fully realized how I felt until we argued about the arranged marriage. I’m sorry, Toji.”

“As long as we’re together now, it doesn’t matter.” Toji shrugged, a smile adorning his handsome face.

You shook your head, “No, really. I want to apologize for not letting myself realize sooner. I regret not being able to love you and give you the love you deserve sooner. I want to be with you and make you as happy as you make me.”

“So sweet, you tryin’ to make me blush? Huh?” He teased, kissing at your cheeks.

Your heart swelled at the affection, and you intertwined your arms around his neck as he pressed his lips against yours.

When you finally broke apart, he caressed his hand up your back.

“Don’t worry too much. Everything happened as it should, and I want to keep you happy too.”

You hummed in agreement, giving him another peck on the lips before looking around the sun filled room.

“We should probably head back soon though. My father is more of a worrier than I am.”

“Head back? I know I was supposed to take you home, but at this point we’d be better off running away together. I don’t think your father would be too happy about us.”

You brightly laughed, “I think he’ll understand. I want to at least talk to him before we decide to become runaways. Plus, I know where he keeps his gold in case we need some of it. If it comes down to that anyway.”

“Good idea, I can fight off the guards while you go get it.”

“Let’s at least try to be positive.”

The dubiousness in Toji’s expression remained, but he gave you a subservient nod after stretching with a yawn, “Alright, doll. Let’s go after we bathe.”

_________________

By the time Toji and you made it back to the estate, the servants greeted you both with news that your father had been pacing the grounds since you ran off and was anxiously waiting for your return. Twinges of guilt entered you, and you asked where they had seen him last. Once you figured out his location, you and Toji rushed to find him.

“Father?” You poked your head into his office, where he was rapidly pacing back and forth just as the servants had described.

“Oh, thank god!” He jumped at your appearance, coming to your side and holding your face in his hands.

At first he angrily bombarded you with questions, and then upon noticing Toji, his expression soured.

“Toji, if anything happened to her I swear-”

“No! He’s done nothing but take care of me! I love him! We love each other.” You turned to cover Toji from your father’s rage, and your father seemed to shake his head in disbelief.

“What?”

Toji carefully took over your protective stance, stepping forward and placing his hand over yours as you hugged his side with conviction.

“It’s true. I’m sorry for all the chaos this has caused. Please, don’t be upset with her. I take full responsibility for everything and if you can overlook all of this, I’d like to ask if I can court your daughter with the intention of marriage.”

A long, drawn out pause spread between you, and you nearly fainted when your father keeled over with loud laughter. Toji and you exchanged surprised glances, and you were afraid the stress had mentally incapacitated your father.

“Please, I know this was all her doing. Do as you wish.” He wiped at a stray tear, and you struggled to comprehend his statements.

“Wait, what?” Confusion was written all over your features, and your father gave you a light yet reprimanding slap on the cheek.

“You’re the troublemaker. I assume you dragged him in, so I’m not inclined to assign blame to him.” He sent Toji a sympathetic look.

Your jaw dropped, and Toji fought back a snicker as your father sighed.

“I’ll let the suitor know you’re…no longer interested. As long as you have someone to take care of you, I couldn’t be happier. That’s all I wanted before I passed on the estate to you, my dear. I promised your mother that I would ensure you and your sisters were looked after. Today, I can say I’ve fulfilled that wish.”

The heartfelt admission made your eyes water as you regarded your father, your chest warming with affection. You could plainly see the age etched into his features, bags edging his eyes and his skin worn with wrinkles. For the first time, you sadly realized he was no longer the invincible lord you viewed him as when you were a child.

You removed yourself from Toji and embraced your father, tears making your vision watery as you mumbled against his shoulder.

“Thank you, father.”

“Take good care of each other when I’m gone.” He whispered, and you nodded into his clothing, too emotional to reply.

When you broke apart, he clicked his tongue and ruffled your hair.

“Such a wild one. Toji, make sure this one doesn’t get herself into trouble anymore. Ever since the last attempt, we’ve found the source of the kidnappings and they should cease after some negotiations I made, but keep her out of trouble anyway.”

“Impossible, but I’ll try for your sake.” Toji smirked, his eyes shining with bemusement.

Another guffaw left your father, “He’s a good one. Honest men are hard to come by. Don’t take him for granted.”

You rolled your eyes, the sockets briefly darkening your sight, “I can’t believe this.”

Your father gave you another hug, and then he kissed the top of your head.

“I’m glad you’re safe and back home. I hope the both of you will join me for lunch now.”

“We will.” You promised, beaming at Toji.

“Wouldn’t wanna miss it. Thank you, sir.” Your former bodyguard echoed.

“Good, come along then.”

_________________

After the meal, you had led your father back to his bedroom where he was able to assuredly rest from enduring the terrible distress you had brought him over the last few days.

Toji was patiently waiting in front of your own bedroom door when you returned, and instead of having him stand guard outside, you had invited him in to cuddle with you.

Now, you were tucked into his side, one leg swung across his body and his hand lovingly tracing down your figure as you stared into each other’s eyes with transparent endearment.

Feeling curious, the first question that came to mind escaped your lips.

“Are you happy?”

“‘Course I am.” He immediately responded, eyes moving across your face.

Toji’s familiar and comforting scent sank into your bones, and you held your breath as he rested the vivid green of his eyes on your inquisitive gaze. A faint exhale parted your lips, a flutter stirring your stomach as he drew his hand up from your waist to brush a thumb over your bottom lip. Encompassing his wrist in your hand, you kissed his thumb with such delicacy that he closed his eyes to relish the touch before opening them to look at you again.

His jet black lashes and hair framed his attributes exquisitely, and the corner of his jaw loosened before he swallowed a breath.

“You know, I never thought I would find love again. I was kinda right.”

Nestling deeper into your touch, he spoke in a soft murmur only meant for you to hear.

“Because I found something better…You.”

The End.

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End Notes:

tag list: @brumous11

:') it's the end! i really enjoyed writing this dynamic and i absolutely adore historical era fics so i may write some more in the future! hope yall enjoyed too<3

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themininthemoon · 3 months

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A Color For Which There Is No Name

CHAPTER SIX

Ch. 5 <<< START >>> Ch. 7

*this chapter is in Yoongi's POV and refers to Jimin with she/her pronouns

Jimin is half-asleep, dozing in the wagon bed with Byungwoo snuggled in a corner, Haneul and Wonbin sprawled by her sides. Eunho has crawled to curl up like a cat above her head.

Yoongi looks back over his shoulder at them and smiles, shaking his head a little. They’re rounding a bend in the road shrouded by fallen leaves; the dirt is rutted with the marks of wagon wheels and animal tracks, and as he guides the oxen toward the house Yoongi spots a figure waiting on the front porch.

He slows the oxen, switching the reins over to one hand, and reaches below the bench for his hunting rifle. He pulls it out and sets it on the seat beside him, aiming away from any living thing.

He stands on the bench and hollers, “Who’s up there?”

The yell wakes the wagon and Jimin sits up with a start, the boys pouting and whining at being so unceremoniously woken up.

“What’s going on?” Jimin asks, groggy.

Yoongi looks back at her, then looks straight ahead again. “I don’t know.”

He orders the oxen forward, moving at a sedate pace. The figure on the porch becomes clearer with every yard traversed and by the time Yoongi stops the wagon by the barn, he can see that there’s no danger, fear replaced by concern.

“It’s just a kid.” He says.

Jimin cranes her neck around Yoongi to catch a glimpse of their visitor and gasps.

“Oh my god.”

She scrambles out of the wagon, nearly tripping down to the grass, skirts flying as she runs as fast as her aching feet will carry her toward the porch. The strange boy meets Jimin halfway, throwing his arms around Jimin’s shoulders while Jimin’s find a home around the boy's waist.

“You’re taller than me.” The breeze carries Jimin’s delighted laughter to Yoongi’s ears. “When’d you get so big?”

“I had a growth spurt.”

“Mimi!” Eunho calls from the wagon, leaning out of the bed to see. “Mimi who’s dat?!” He turns to his father. “Daddy who’s dat?”

Yoongi squints at Jimin and the stranger, lingering on the young man’s arms around Jimin’s shoulder.

“Let’s go find out.”

Yoongi has to shake the grave expression from his face to smile at Eunho. He pokes the boy in the cheek and Eunho giggles, cradling his cheek with both hands. His eyes crinkle up at the corners, smiling back at Yoongi with his mother’s eyes and dimples.

Yoongi swallows hard, keeping the smile on his face. He ruffles Eunho’s hair then turns to the brood.

“Alright, boys, let’s go see who Mimi’s visitor is.”

Jimin is beaming as Yoongi and the boys approach, darting forward to take Byungwoo from Yoongi’s arms.

“Hey buddy.” She murmurs.

She looks up at Yoongi, smile sweet and warm. Jimin reaches out to Yoongi’s hand and Yoongi let’s her take it, towing Yoongi forward to stand in front of the young man.

“Yoongi,” jimin starts, grinning. “This is my younger brother, Jungkook. Jungkook, this is my husband, Yoongi.”

The word “brother” sends a wave of relief through Yoongi, so much tension suddenly bleeding out of him he nearly says “good.” out loud. The response makes him swallow hard, shaking the feeling off before nodding his head.

“Good to meet you.” He says, gruff.

“You too.” Jungkook replies. He’s standing just behind Jimin, trying to hide, but he’s a whole head taller than his sibling.

It proves to soften Yoongi further toward the stranger.

“Let’s take this inside, huh?” Yoongi nods toward the house.

Jimin smiles, adjusting her grip on Byungwoo and leading the way. The boys follow her immediately, rushing to catch up, then Jungkook with Yoongi standing in the rear.

“I’ll be in after I put up the oxen!” He calls.

Jimin stops in her tracks just before crossing the threshold into the house. She waves a hand to let Yoongi know she heard.

Yoongi heads to unhook the oxen and put them out to pasture. It doesn’t take him long, practiced as he is, and he finds himself rushing back to the house. He forces himself to slow down as he crosses the porch, shaking his head.

“Jimin’s not going anywhere.” He mutters.

He opens the door and the first thing he sees is Jimin holding a suitcase, laughing. Yoongi’s heart drops through his stomach to his feet.

Jimin looks up at him and beams, waddling closer with the suitcase held in both hands.

“Yoongi, you won’t mind if I put Jungkook’s things in the boys’ room, right? I told Jungkook it’s fine, but-”

“I don’t want to impose.” The boy says quietly, head bowed.

“You came all this way.” Jimin’s shaking her head. “Of course you can stay in the boys’ room. Right, Yoongi?”

Yoongi blinks. He nods, clearing his throat.

“Yes, that’s fine.” He says, gruff. “Of course it’s fine. It’s good to meet you.”

“You too.” The boy says, quiet.

He’s stiff, awkward. He’s an inch or two taller than Yoongi but making himself small with rounded shoulders, head ducked low. Not even the children peering at him curiously distract his gaze from his feet.

Yoongi eyes him critically, the way he carries himself, how little he’s said.

“Your parents don’t know you’re here.” Yoongi says flatly.

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, head snapping up to make frightened eye contact with Yoongi.

“How did you know?” He squeaks.

Jimin whips around.

“Jungkook!” He snaps. “ You ran away?!”

“They were gonna send me to military school!”

Jimin puts her face in her hands, letting the suitcase fall to the hardwood.

“Of course you ran away. I’m an idiot — how else would you have gotten here.” Jimin groans. “What were you thinking Jungkook?”

“Your parents are probably worried sick.” Yoongi cuts in, arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face. “Did you at least tell them where you were going?”

“I left a note.” Jungkook mumbles.

Jimin sighs, hand to her forehead.

“I should’ve known you showing up out of the blue was strange.”

“Maybe I’d have warned you if you ever responded to my letters!” Jungkook blurts.

Jimin winces, “I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t mean you can leave home with nothing but a note.” Yoongi cut in, stern.

“Yoongi, maybe you’re being a little-“

“No, Jimin.” Yoongi shakes his head. “Imagine one of our boys up and left without so much as a by your leave. How would you feel?”

Jimin chews on her bottom lip, surveying the four little heads around her.

“I’d be worried sick.” She whispers.

Yoongi grunts. “We’ll send a telegram. It’s quickest.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide. “A telegram?”

Yoongi nods. “It will be worth the cost to put your parents’ minds at ease.”

Jimin tugs nervously at her lower lip, free hand resting on his belly.

“Are you sure? A letter will take longer, but the cost-“

“Don’t worry about the cost.” Yoongi winces at his own tone, guilt souring his stomach. He offers jimin a close-mouthed smile to soften the words. “Don’t worry about it. Jungkook and I will go into town tomorrow and send the telegram from the postmaster’s office, okay?”

Jimin nods, curling in on herself a little.

In his periphery Yoongi sees the way Jungkook’s posture has gone still and stiff, holding himself carefully.

Yoongi suppresses a sigh. He can never seem to do right by Jimin, tripping all over his own tongue and snapping when he means to be gentle.

Yoongi runs a hand over his face, letting the trapped sigh free.

“I didn’t mean to sound so snippy, Jimin. You don’t deserve to be spoken to that way.”

Jimin looks up at Yoongi, blinking.

“Oh, Yoongi, don’t worry about that — I know you didn’t mean it. You get grumpy when you’re stressed.”

“Still.” Yoongi says, gruff. “It’s not an excuse.”

There’s amusement playing around the edges of Jimin’s smile.

Yoongi turns away from the warm expression, afraid the heat of Jimin’s lips might make their way directly to Yoongi’s cheeks, ears already burning from the attention.

He makes brief eye contact with Jungkook before turning to the boys. They’ve been watching the exchange with wide eyes, hiding from the stranger in the folds of Jimin’s skirts.

“Boys? Why don’t you say hello to Jungkook.”

Eunho sidles forward first, sticking out a tiny hand for shaking.

“I’m Eunho!” He chirps, looking up with eyes big and round. “Are you Mimi’s brudder?”

Jungkook takes the small hand with a sweet smile.

“I am. I’m her younger brother.”

Eunho gasps.

“I’m my brudder Neulie’s younger brudder.” He turns excitedly reaching out until he finds Haneul’s hand to pull him forward. “This is my big brudder!”

Haneul shrinks on himself, but doesn’t pull away, indulging Eunho’s excitement. He keeps his eyes on his feet and offers a soft “Hello.”

Jungkook crouches down with the same gentle smile on his face. It reminds Yoongi of Jimin.

“Hello Haneul. How old are you?”

“Seven.” Haneul mumbles.

“Seven?” Jungkook repeats in an animated voice. “Wow, that’s a big age!”

Hanuel finally looks up at him, eyes wide and curious.

“How old are you?”

“Me?” Jungkook points at himself. “I’m sixteen.”

“Woow.” Haneul and Eunho both gasp.

“Is that more than Mimi?” Haneul asks. “Daddy is more than Mimi.”

Jungkook’s gaze flicks up to Yoongi before landing back on the kids. He shakes his head.

“No, Mimi is older than me - that’s why she’s my big sister even though she’s so small.”

Yoongi looks briefly at Jimin, catching a slight wince. He turns his attention back to Jungkook and the boys.

Wonbin has joined his older brothers, babbling excitedly with half-formed sentences.

“Hold you?” Wonbin asks, holding his arms out.

Jungkook turns big, confused eyes to Jimin.

Jimin smiles.

“He’s asking if he can hold you.”

“Hold me?”

Jimin nods, letting out a fond little laugh.

“It’s how he asks to be picked up.”

Jungkook turns his attention back to Wonbin’s out-stretched arms.

“That’s so cute.” He whispers. “You’re so cute.”

Wonbin is getting frustrated. He stomps his foot and shakes his arms for emphasis.

“Hold you!” He demands.

Jungkook sends an uncertain glance Yoongi’s way before turning to jimin. He waits for Jimin to nod before grabbing Wonbin by armpits and standing carefully.

Wonbin settles happily on Jungkook’s hip.

Jungkook looks nervous, but his hold is firm.

They’ll be fine.

Jimin rolls her eyes at her brother.

“We have three nieces and nephews.” She huffs, exasperated. “Why are you being so skittish?”

Jungkook’s gaze darts briefly to Yoongi’s deep frown.

“It’s been awhile.” He says, equally as huffy as his sister.

Jimin rolls her eyes, “Well just don’t drop my baby.”

Yoongi’s heart leaps in his chest like it does every time Jimin claims the boys so casually. He turns away before Jimin can look over at him with that sweet smile on her face.

“Haneul,” He gets his son’s attention. “Do you want to help me get the sofa set up for our guest?”

Haneul’s eyes go wide. He nods rapidly

“Yes! I want to help!”

“I want to hep too!” Eunho butts in, darting past his older brother to grab onto Yoongi’s pant leg. He looks up at his father urgently.

Yoongi can help but laugh, a soft exhale through his nose.

He nods.

“Alright, you can both help.” Yoongi looks at Jimin, offering a small smile. “You and Jungkook can have some time to catch up.”

Jimin smiles back, nodding. “Okay, thank you.”

Yoongi simply nods in response, ushering the boys toward the linen closet to gather blankets for Jungkook’s makeshift bed. He does his best not to listen to the siblings’ conversation, tuning in to his sons’ babble rather than hear what’s being said.

Eunho tugs a blanket from the bottom of the stack and the whole pile comes down on him.

Yoongi laughs.

As dinner time approaches Yoongi sits on the couch with Byungwoo asleep on his chest, the older boys arguing good-naturedly about what to build with their blocks. Jungkook is down on the carpet with them. He lets them boss him around, directing him where to place each block of their tower. It makes Yoongi smile.

Jimin is bustling around the kitchen, doing her best to pull together Jungkook’s favourite meal with what they have in the cupboards. Yoongi feels a pang of guilt, knowing that the food they have here is nothing like what Jimin and Jungkook had growing up. He buries his nose in the fine dark hair on top of Byungwoo’s head and breathes in the soothing baby scent.

“Dinner!” Jimin calls and Byungwoo perks up, awoken by Jimin’s voice. “Everybody, wash your hands!”

Yoongi smiles at Byungwoo and stands, ushering the older boys toward the washbasin, Jungkook included. Jimin laughs under her breath, walking over to Yoongi to retrieve Byungwoo.

“Dinner time for the little one too.” She says, grabbing Byungwoo under the armpits and cradling him to her chest.

Yoongi goes to the stove to dish up plates while Jimin takes a seat at the table.

Jimin undoes the top few buttons of his blouse and Jungkook squeaks, slapping his palms over his eyes.

“Jimin!” He cries. “What are you doing?!”

Jimin stares blankly. “Feeding Byungwoo?”

“You can do that?” Jungkook asks, slowly pulling his hands from his face.

“Yes.” Jimin laughs and nods, adjusting so that Byungwoo can latch.

“Wow.” Jungkook sounds awed.

Jimin laughs some more.

“You’re strange, Little Brother.”

Jungkook blushes. “I’ve never seen a wet nurse actually. . .nursing!”

Yoongi catches another wince.

“Jimin’s not a wet nurse.” Yoongi cuts in firmly. “She’s the boys’ Mimi.”

Jimin looks up at him with wide eyes and Yoongi has to look away, turning back to the last plate he needs to make.

“Sorry.” Jungkook mumbles. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings Jimin.”

“It’s okay Kookie.”

Yoongi walks over and places a plate at every chair. He places a pitcher of water in the center of the table and sits to Jimin’s right.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” Jimin says softly.

Yoongi’s smile is just a flicker, but it’s sincere.

“Thank you for cooking.” He murmurs back.

Jimin smiles then turns to her food, eating carefully so as to not jostle Byungwoo too much.

“Jungkook.” Yoongi calls for the boy’s attention. His head snaps up, eyes wide. “You said your parents wanted to send you to military school?”

Jungkook’s expression darkens.

“They said they were tired of having a kid in the house.” He mutters.

Jimin gasps. “No, Mama would never!”

Jungkook sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s what they said.” He grumbles. “And dad said I ‘lack discipline’ which is funny considering his definition of discipline.”

Yoongi sees Jimin press her lips together tight, pink skin gone white from the pressure. Yoongi’s stomach roils and rages.

“What exactly does your father describe as discipline.” Yoongi says.

Jungkook’s eyes slide away to the side, unable to meet Yoongi’s gaze.

“He beat me with a shoe once.” Jimin whispers. “He wasn’t usually so violent toward me, because I’m a- because I’m not a boy, but Jungkook-”

Yoongi’s fingernails dig into his palms where his hands are fisted tight. He stands so abruptly it knocks over his chair.

Jimin and Jungkook both flinch and Yoongi takes in a long, deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He says calmly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m going to take some air.”

“Yoongi-”

Yoongi holds up a hand to stay Jimin’s words. He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry your father treated you that way -- both of you. I can’t imagine-” He has to pause and breathe again. “I can’t imagine treating my children that way.”

He heads for the door then stops just before crossing the threshold.

“You can stay as long as you’d like, Jungkook.”

Yoongi walks out the door. He passes the workshop without sparing it a glance, heading out into the woods, seeking out the small glade by the creek.

Anger burns like an ember in his chest, keeping him warm despite the cool evening air. He storms through the underbrush, heart pounding and ears ringing. He’s blinded by the mental image Jimin’s words had conjured. Infuriated by the idea of her being hurt that way.

It brings a new level of admiration for how easily Jimin took to motherhood, the gentleness she carries with hier and imbues in every movement, every touch.

Yoongi was not the same.

He told Jimin of Jieun’s struggles, but skirted his own, the words stuck in the back of his throat.

He’s still ashamed of his early days with fatherhood and the fear that accompanied Haneul’s birth.

Yoongi was so afraid of becoming his own father, he avoided his son and neglected his wife, sleeping in the workshop and burying himself in his work. He was as unfair then as he is now to Jimin.

Yoongi grinds his teeth, jaw ticking. He remembers the feeling of his father’s belt at his back, the scar that crosses his shoulders. He wonders if Jimin is hiding her own too, in the dark of the room when they touch each other.

He comes to a stop in the center of the glade and lets his anger go in a guttural scream.

He yells until he’s too out of breath to keep on, bent over with his hands on his knees, panting.

He’s startled by the soft touch of a delicate hand on his back. He jumps up, catching the hand in his own as he straightens.

Jimin.

“Jimin.” Yoongi shakes his head, giving Jimin’s hand a light squeeze. He tries to shake off the embarrassment at being seen this way. “You followed me?”

“I was worried.” Jimin says softly. She squeezes Yoongi’s hand back. “I didn’t want to leave you alone when you were so upset.”

“I’m not upset, I’m-“

“Angry.” Jimin finishes for him. She reaches up to frame Yoongi’s face, gaze flickering between Yoongi’s eyes. “I know.”

Yoongi looks away, unable to hold Jimin’s gaze.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.” He murmurs.

“Scared me?” Jimin asks, shaking her head. “How would you scare me?”

“Your father-”

Jimin barks a short laugh, but there’s no amusement in it.

“You are nothing at all like my father.” She says, warm. She rubs Yoongi’s bicep, trying to coax him into looking at her again. “Yoongi, you are nothing like my father. You couldn’t be more different. In fact I often wish to thank you.”

“What would you thank me for?” Yoongi whispers. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You gave me somewhere to go. You gave me somewhere safe, you gave me a family.” Jimin says, thumb stroking the sensitive skin under Yoongi’s eye. “You showed me what it looks like when a father truly loves his children.”

Yoongi closes his eyes, pained. He brings his right hand up to rest over Jimin’s left on his cheek.

“I haven’t been a very good husband.” He mumbles.

“You’ve done your best.”

“You deserve more than a mourning widower’s best.” Yoongi says, opening his eyes to look directly at Jimin. “You deserve someone who can give you their heart.”

“I know it’s hard for you- Yoongi, I don’t expect- Jieun is only barely gone. It’s okay for you to still think of her, to be distant.”

“I don’t want to be distant.” Yoongi tells him. “I want to be present. For the boys. For you.”

Jimin shakes her head.

“You are present.” Jimin says, reassuring. “You’re here every day. You read the boys to sleep every night. You keep me warm in our bed and you- you’re here. You’re present.”

Yoongi swallows hard. “I want to love you. Not just be your husband.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

“I didn't mean to.” Yoongi says, cupping Jimin’s face with both hands. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. That’s not what I wanted I just- just because I’m still mourning doesn’t mean my heart isn’t working and you- I didn’t want to, at first, it felt like- like I was betraying her, but,” Yoongi swallows hard, blinking back tears. He whispers. “How could anyone not come to love you?”

Tears spill over Jimin’s waterline, running down her cheeks as she tries to blink them back, hands fisted in the front of Yoongi’s shirt.

“Don’t lie.” She begs. “Don’t-“

Yoongi presses their lips together, quick and messy.

It’s barely a kiss.

“You kissed me.” Jimin gasps as she pulls back, eyes red and cheeks damp. Her expression screws up, crying harder. “You rarely kiss me.”

Yoongi pulls jimin into a hug, wrapping her up in his arms, pressing his lips to Jimin’s hair.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

Jimin continues to sniffle in Yoongi’s arms, clinging to his back.

“I love you.” Jimin whispers. “You don’t have to say it back now, but I love you.”

Yoongi kisses the top of Jimin’s head and squeezes her tight.

#ym fic #my fic #yoonmin fic #yoonmin au #yoonmin #ym au

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dinofelissnow1985 · 6 months

Text

Of Birds and Butterflies

by DinofelisSnow1985

Chapter 12

The Healing Fever passed within a few days and Red got bored when he was well enough again to not sleep away the whole day.

So Sans helped him learn for the Junior High School Test he wanted to take as soon as he could.

Sans read paragraphs to him, asked questions about it to test Red's memory and understanding, and when things were confusing they looked them up together and watched educational videos online.

Red liked the history documentaries, those were easy to understand. Why historical figures acted in a certain way and why things turned out the way they did. Why kids still had to learn from dry, musty books and chew boring dates and facts while the same stuff could be quite interesting when taught orherwise, was beyond him.

When he asked Sans about it the lazy Beta couldn't give him an answer either.

Whatever.

After Red got more knowledgeable about history, geography, math and surface biology he started a pun war with Sans, that had them both in stitches after only a few minutes.

After they recovered, they fell into a comfortable silence for a moment.

Then Sans became curious.

"Hey Red. You already told us about your childhood and life. But, what about your Toriel and Asgore? I mean, when Tori came over to examine your old injuries that first time, you clearly knew who she was, but you were obviously surprised that she was the Lady behind the Ruin's door."

Red sighed, thinking. "Ever'ne knew 'bout de queen, Ass-Gore made sure 'f it. 'T's call'd prop'ganda, Sans. 'E paint'd 'er a trait'r. M' f'ckwar' 'f a broth'r swore ta fin' 'er someday, bu' if she's in da Ruins, 'e c'n keep lookin' fer 'er 'ntil k'ngdom come. Heh, serv's 'im righ'."

Sans looked a little uncomfortable. "So, he isn't just all bark and no bite in your AU, huh. Our Asgore is a big softie and ridden with guilt about killing the humans that fell into the Underground, especially since they all had been kids."

Red snorted. "Fuck no! 'E's nothin' bu' LV and br'tality beneath his shaggy fur, an' 'e is proud of ev'ry EXP 'e 'as on 'is name. 'E blames the first kid, de one dey 'dopted, fer causin' de death o' de prince.

I 'eard rumors 'bout 'im eatin' de bodies of de humans af'er 'e 'arvested deir Souls. Dun know if tha's tru tho."

...

Sans looked at Red, horrified. "That's pretty sick, you know that, Cherry pop?"

Red blushed at the nickname, but shrugged it off. "Ya, i know. Dere's a lotta whisperin' goin' on in mah world. De King go' insane from too much LV, de King's a cannib'l, eatin' other monst'rs, pris'ners, alive, 'e drinks deir blood an' Magic, 'e isn't a monst'r anymore, sooner er later 'e'll flip completely an' kill of ev'ry monst'r in de unnergroun'. Dat's de most famous ones, but dere're more, fer ev'ry monst'r in de unnergroun dere're ten rumours goin' 'round. An' when ya know de King, ya won' be able ta tell what's true and what not."

A chill ran down Sans' spine. Following a sudden, strong urge, he hugged Red and buried his face in the neckbrace. "I'm so glad you made it here," he whispered, and Red could hear how close the tears were.

He hugged Sans back as best as he could with his still healing broken shoulder and immobilized spine. He felt the other needed this.

"'T's okay, Sansy. 'M with you an' yer fam'ly now, an' i sure as hell dun plan on ev'r goin' back agin.

Heh, i take it yer King's a walkin' talkin' plush toy, when hearin' of mine rattles yer bones tha' much."

Despite being half in tears Sans couldn't help the snort-laugh that escaped him. "That's so cheesy. I should call you 'pizza'."

They remained silent for a short while, before Sans started speaking again, his face still buried in Red's uninjured shoulder. "Hey, um, that bastard... did he... you know... too?" Sans feared the answer.

"Yeah," quiet and unspectacular. "Jus' covered mah pelv'c inle' wi' a layer a Magic. Woul' i have formed anythin' 'e woulda ripped me open. S'ill almos' broke mah ass... bu' i thin' dat's too much information."

The last few words were choked out because Sans had tightened his grip on him to a crushing quality.

"Everytime i learn something new about you or your world i get more horrified by it,... and amazed by how much you have endured and survived so far. Do you have any idea, how amazing you are?"

Red felt his face grow hot at Sans' words and didn't know what to say or do.

They stayed pressed together like that, eventually falling asleep.

Feeling Sans so close soothed Red's mind and kept any nightmares away.

#undertale #underfell #underswap #sans au #pregnancy #child loss #hurt/comfort

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tact-and-impulse · 3 years

Text

Shinkane Week 2021 Day 5

For the “arranged marriage” prompt, I went for the Sengoku era.

In Place

Akane hoped that at the very least, he would be kind.

She set her mirror down, unable to look at her reflection any longer. The heavy embroidered robes, the cosmetics on her face, her hair hidden away under white silk. The guilt in her eyes.

Yuki had been the charming one, the one who was supposed to marry a general aligned with their closest neighbor. She had cheerfully shown her wedding garments to Akane during her last visit, that she had only met her betrothed once but liked him immensely and he had been pleased with her in turn. It seemed a fitting fate for Yuki, who wanted nothing more than to have a happy marriage.

Then, Sasayama Mitsuru had died on the battlefield.

The news had been delivered, along with the fact that the engagement would now be with a different general instead. Yuki had fainted and then grew feverish. It was believed that she had been weakened by the sudden upheaval of events, it was too much for her frail spirit to bear. But whatever the truth was, it would forever remain a mystery. Her dear cousin was gone too quickly, in the span of a night that left Akane numb and paralyzed.

At the funeral, she learned that the wedding would be occurring anyway. With her, in place of Yuki. She barely registered anything after that. The sewing alterations, the packing of her belongings, the trousseau moved to her room, that would only remain so for another two weeks.

Most of the ceremony passed in a blur. She kept her eyes downcast, sensing that her new husband was taller than she was and catching the aroma of kizami when he moved. He must have smoked the shredded tobacco, and she racked her mind for what else she knew about him. He was a little younger than Sasayama had been, but he had already cultivated a favorable reputation. Had he ever met with Yuki?

She glanced up at him, and though she didn’t recognize his handsome features, she couldn’t complain. His expression was stoic, serious. Then, his gaze slid to her, and she immediately turned back to the proceedings. She was much more aware of her surroundings, than she had been since Yuki’s death.

She actually tasted her food at the celebratory dinner, though her appetite hadn’t fully returned yet. Her husband wasn’t faring any better, and in her periphery, he was frowning. As the guests descended into merrymaking and she sipped her sake, he spoke for the first time.

“Do you want to leave?”

Oh. Well, there was that part to a wedding, and she hurriedly downed the rest of her drink. Swallowing the burn, she agreed. “Y-yes.”

His hand was larger than hers, callused and strong, but he touched her gently and she appreciated that. Her face flamed at the cheering and his grip tightened. The hallway was quieter, the party’s sounds muffled, and she felt like she could breathe.

“I hope everyone will behave.” She said aloud, as he presumably led the way to the chamber. Their chamber.

“They’re only pleased about the alliance. It would have been the same, whether it was us or your cousin and my friend. We’re a couple of shogi pieces, that’s all.” His voice was dark with resentment, but it wasn’t bad to listen to.

“I’m sorry about your friend. General Sasayama was kind enough, from what I remember. He and Yuki could have been happy together. Not that it matters now…” The grief opened up again, the cloudiness returning.

“No, it doesn’t. He was too reckless, he got himself killed because he wasn’t satisfied, and his death took your cousin with him.” Outwardly, he sounded angry, and he slammed the door a little too hard. Inside the room, a lantern illuminated the sparse interior. One futon, with two pillows. He pulled her inside, before taking hold of the sliding door again. She wasn’t sure where to look, what to do. Of course, the basic instructions had been provided, but she was too nervous to start anything. She flinched as his sleeve brushed hers, and he must have noticed.

He walked around her, taking one of the pillows and tucking it under his arm. “Are you tired?”

“A little. It’s been a long day.” She let out a shaky laugh.

“Then, get some rest.” He blew out the lantern, the room plunging into darkness. She clutched her embroidered outer kimono, trying to still her trembling fingers. But he never approached, his footsteps drifting away. “That’s your side. This is mine.” A pause. “Good night.”

“…Good night?”

The silence crept up, and when she realized nothing would happen tonight, she smiled.

***

They still hadn’t consummated the marriage, when she traveled with him. He explained that until winter, they would be residing with his lord’s family and she would be assisting the lady, while he was on campaign.

“Do you know how to use a naginata?”

“I have some training.”

“Rely on it. We get attacked on a regular basis.”

“Eh?” She hadn’t heard of that before. “What about the castle’s defenses?”

“They’re adequate, but you should be prepared, in case there’s a spy. Don’t trust anyone easily.”

“Not even you?”

“If I act dishonorably, you shouldn’t hesitate.”

“I don’t think you will.”

His gaze might have softened, but he never responded.

Within the castle town, she was introduced to a variety of people. The lord, who seemed rather easygoing, and his demure, proper wife accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting. The metsuke, Ginoza. The seasoned general, Masaoka, and the recently promoted Kagari. There was even a warrior woman, Kunizuka. They all seemed pleasant, addressing her as the wife of General Kougami. It was strange at first, but she did her best to be just as kind.

Meanwhile, she and her husband slept apart from each other, as much as they could with one bed. He hadn’t made a move yet. She considered that he had a mistress, but from what Kagari told her, he only trained in his spare time. And although it was commonplace, she didn’t like the idea that there was another woman. He always came back to her anyway.

He had seen the books she brought with her and skimmed through each one. He genuinely seemed interested in her tastes and didn’t belittle her opinions. His questions were direct, calculating, and purposeful. He shared his books too, marked with his notes. Her husband had neat handwriting, she thought. In the evenings, he smoked his pipe as he read his own papers, and she found the sight comforting.

Not long after her arrival, an enemy clan drew too close. The entire household mobilized, and she saw him off. Along with his armor, he had a mask to resemble a wolf’s open mouth, but she didn’t feel any terror. It was only her husband, who was resolute and intelligent. She had faith in him.

“Be careful. I hope you’ll win.”

“Ah.” His hand lifted and for a moment, she thought he was going to touch her face. Instead, he ruffled her hair. “I’ll return soon.”

She watched him leave, feeling oddly empty.

It was a harder fight than expected, and the news came that they had been breached. The lady was newly pregnant, and after ensuring her safety, Akane took up her naginata and headed for the battlements. She could barely see past the drizzling rain, and the clamor was deafening. An arrow whizzed past her hair, and she felt pain and a warm trickle past her temple. But she kept going, searching for any unfamiliar faces.

At one corner, there were two figures, one readying to finish off his prone opponent. It was hard to discern who they were, but the man who was down seemed to have a mask. In the dim torchlight, she spotted the painted fangs on porcelain. She lunged forward and drove her naginata into the stranger, who tumbled over the wall.

“Akane!” Her husband was surprised to see her, and he struggled to rise. With her aid, he was able to stand. He’d suffered a few minor wounds, but he was still speaking and breathing. “You’re here.”

“Yes, I couldn’t stand by and wait.”

He blinked, the rain in his eyes. “Where’s the lady?”

“She’s in hiding. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“So are you.” He gripped her shoulder, and he gave a strained smile. “Stay safe!” Before she could reply, he was running off. She sincerely prayed he wouldn’t die, and she lifted her spear with renewed determination.

By dawn, the enemy had been subjugated. She had returned to their room, examining her head wound. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped and it wasn’t very deep. She had finished bandaging it again, when the door opened.

“Shinya-san!” She rushed to him. He looked tired, but the dried blood had been cleaned off, and strips of white cloth covered his chest. She pulled him to the futon, urging him to sit and rest. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“No.” He seemed distracted, not quite meeting her eyes.

“If you need to sleep, I’ll leave you alone.” She was about to leave, but he grabbed her wrist. He stared at his own grasp, his thumb slowly bending. She ignored the heat overcoming her, lowering her voice. “Please, tell me what you need. I’m your wife, I want to help you.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t regret saying that.” And he kissed her, with unrestrained ferocity. She was too stunned to react, and when he parted from her, his eyes were completely dark. “Did you not like it?”

“I don’t know. One more time?”

He leaned towards her again, and she tried to meet him. Gentler than before, but his fingers twining through hers demonstrated that the passion hadn’t subsided. Breaking for air, he asked. “So? Should we stop?”

“No. Never.” And she initiated, claiming his mouth. He pulled her down and for a while, there was no need for words.

Neither of them were intended to be in this marriage at first, but they were now and the life that stretched ahead wasn’t terrible at all.

#shinkaneweek #shinkane #i just keep going back in time with the historical aus huh #psycho pass

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wellntruly · 2 years

Text

It's time. Actually we can just repeat that last image again:

A Group That Barely Missed NOT Becoming Historic, but yet !!

Chuckle, he's just so wild for this.

I mean it’s not like Victor Marie Hugo does not frequently in this opus interrupt the plot to just explain a little guy to you, but it’s that there are nine of them.

To do this with nine little guys in a row….

Even if there were nothing else about this set of characters bonking around within the duvet cover of my brain, the structural chaos of the way the musical just suddenly releases the gates and lets flood the stage with Charli XCX's Boys one hour into a show where they had not been previous, is not in fact dissimilar at all to the sensation of reaching this chapter of the novel, wholly halfway through, and having a nine-part dramatis personae and a floor plan poured onto you like a sheaf of papers from a moderate height. Hugo what??!, you call out as you scramble to keep them together, but he’s already laughed his way offstage, and will now never explain himself.

Anyway, what follows is exactly what you want: a sort of recap-rundown-commentary on who all I’ve just been re-introduced to, and how.

We start at the top:

Enjolras

I mean of course he is, this feels like it explains a Lot actually, but my god Enjolras is a wealthy only child? Oh baby…very dark turns this story could have taken!

Anyway he’s gorgeous and mean. Classic rich twink behavior.

Priestly, disdainful (these are all direct Hapgood translations)

Rosy pale, 22 but looks 17—oh so Timothée Chalamet in Call Me By Your Name but blonde and loves WAR

Literally described as not knowing women exist and glaring at any that approach him, so, guess maybe this liberté and egalité really is just for the fraternité

Does not break revolutionary focus for any of the world’s stock of beauty or joy

I’ve never played DND but the amount of warlike and priestlike imagery combined here makes me suspect this guy is hardcore cleric, and it’s the one angle where I’m interested in him in himself and not just as a cold beautiful force that contextualizes other characters’ inner dramas

“Woe to the love affair that should have risked itself beside him!” I said this to a friend, and then revisited it to be sure, and will now at last say it here: the point of Enjolras is that he’s never going to sleep with you, and that too has meaning! The Point of Enjolras is that he’s just everyone’s Clive. Here is E.M. Forster in 1960 looking back on his Maurice (1914) and describing, I swear to you, Clive Durham, not his Edwardian Oxbridge AU Enjolras (as far as we know):

What Italian boy, what French, maybe… Anyway I’m not blowing a whole thesis on passage one so we'll leave it at that, just some food for thought!

Combeferre

“Between the logic of the Revolution and its philosophy there exists this difference—that its logic may end in war, whereas its philosophy can end only in peace.” I had to Close the Book for a second, uh oh! Uh oh I’m gonna be real tender over you in 2022 huh!

Best friend, confidante

“The Revolution was more adapted for breathing with Combeferre than with Enjolras.” I find the atmosphere he creates incredibly comforting. Imagine if you could breathe.

Gentle 😩

Sweet nerd! Gets excited over arteries and geology—a Harry Goodsir! Oh noo

It’s the 1830s and Combeferre is also complaining that literary education just confines itself to “the classics”—Combeferre wants to decolonize yr syllabus

Combeferre is out of undergrad and it shows

A purist & scientist but also thoughtful even on mythic creatures

“He believed in all dreams, railroads, the suppression of suffering in chirurgical operations, the fixing of images in the dark chamber, the electric telegraph, the steering of balloons”—I just, love him

Maybe holds a bit too much of an emphasis on innocence as goodness, like Hugo!

Je(h)an Prouvaire

Ren Faire. We love him.

(Knows what a woman is, and feels bad they have it so shitty)

Likes long walks, flowers, and POETIC GRANDEUR

Also a wealthy only son!

Blushing awkward dear but doesn’t let that stop him

Really I’m loving how endearingly embarrassing Prouvaire is, everyone needs an embarrassing friend who dresses poorly and has romantic nerd interests

Feuilly

Working class hero

Self-taught liberator of the people

Wow a lot of this ends up being a lament for the partition of Poland in 1772

Pretty sparse on personality details here since so much really was just about Poland, but: a generous heart

Courfeyrac

One of my favorite French names to say, definitely badly

“The particle, as everyone knows, possesses no significance.” Sounds like something someone without a particle would say, M. Hugo

“We might almost, so far as Courfeyrac is concerned, stop here, and confine ourselves to saying with regard to what remains: ‘For Courfeyrac, see Tholomyes.’” [Gasp], No! Say more! Say you lied just now and he’s not like Tholomyes!

“Only, Courfeyrac was an honorable fellow. Beneath the apparent similarities of the exterior mind, the difference between him and Tholomyes was very great.” Oh thank god! Also what! How can I ask this weird specific thing of Hugo and he delivers

“There was in Tholomyes a district attorney, and in Courfeyrac a paladin.” Wait hang on, now what is happening. Do we have to DND all these fuckers? Oh god I do Not know enough about DND…ah whatever I’ll do this blind: Feuilly is a ranger, Prouvaire is a druid, Combeferre’s a…wizard, a warlock? Whatever one is book learning not deals. Alright who’s next!

Bahorel

A ROGUE!

Aw I remembered “daring waistcoats and scarlet opinions”—now that’s a Hugoism

The button at the end of this run-on description “a student in his eleventh year”—sublime

Anyway he is good-nature and keeps bad company (again sublime), a bit of a scamp, respects others so they respect him, and saunters. “To stray is human. To saunter is Parisian.”

“In reality, he had a penetrating mind and was more of a thinker than appeared to view.”

Y’know what I think he’s Eames

Lesgle/L’Aigle/Legle [de Meaux]/Bossuet

The depths of French punning with this name I simply cannot fathom

Anyway, extremely unlucky and extremely jovial about it

Ostensibly a law student. Mostly just lives with Joly because he’s always losing what money he has.

Feels like a Dickens character really. What will befall this young man next! Picaresque energy.

Joly

Medical student

Hypochondriac to the point of mysticism—well that’s fun

The gayest! #text

Agreeably eccentric

Oh really elated I remembered correctly and the rest of them actually do call him Jolllly, that that was canon

“Joly had a trick of touching his nose with the tip of his cane, which is an indication of a sagacious mind.” Okay!

So he’s just any character played by Ben Whishaw, yeah? Neurotic fluttery-manic bird-boned weirdo, adorable.

Haha Hugo you’re feinting like you’re gonna skip him. I know you aren’t.

Grantaire

Le sceptique

“Grantaire was a man who took good care not to believe in anything.” there is So. Much. packed into That!

What this litany of how he knew “the best place for everything” actually tells is that Grantaire holds a lasting memory of every nice moment he has experienced. Haha fuck, fuck fuck fuck

“Grantaire is impossible” is a hilarious thing to say about his appearance. Also how do other English translators do what Florence Hapgood has chosen as “homely,” “inordinately” so

Knows what women are, thinks they’re all beautiful

A libertine, a fatalist, very drunk

It’s reeeaally presented as Grantaire being almost transfixed by the oppositeness of Enjolras to him. It’s like he’s nigh helpless in the matter, like it’s planetary—Grantaire is mess and doubt, he is therefore anchored to this pristine believer.

“He had need of Enjolras.” God this line fucks me up

The “yielding” descriptor fucks me up too. Grantaire will allow pretty much anything, including, we see, his own harsh treatment

“He was ironical and cordial. His indifference loved. His mind could get along without belief, but his heart could not get along without friendship.” [softly] stop..

Anyway love when Hugo just falls to listing every gay ass Greek figure he can think of to make sure we really get it

Haha IT’S SAD :(

Anyway I’ve made this:

Do Les Amis Know What A Woman Is, Ranked

Enjolras - no

Joly - loses half his points because so much of his definition is Pliny the Elder fabulisms

Feuilly - aware of the principle, mostly as pertains to the partition of Poland

Bahorel - sure! dames!

Bossuet - haha oh yes a woman robbed me once

Courfeyrac - would you like to know what a woman is ;)

Prouvaire - yes, the poor creatures

Combeferre - 100% a brother of sisters, at minimum two

Grantaire - all Women are Goddesses

Not Rated: Marius - give him a moment!

[Brickolage]

#Les Mis 2 More Mis #Brickolage #Victor Hugo #Les Miserables #E.M. Forster #Maurice #The Terror

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kpop-dungeon-dark · 3 years

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The King's Bitch. (King!Taehyung x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Pretty much plot credits to @taesluttt.

Warning(s): Non-con, Punishment, King!Taehyung, brat!tamer Taehyung, choking, slapping, spanking, face fucking, hair pulling, sadist!Taehyung, watersports, spit play, historical au, fear kink, royal au, objectification (duh it's me so), anal, just rough shit basically. You're both legal in this. Read at your own risk.

His arms were held behind his back in the royal manner they'd taught to be in ever since he was a little boy, eyes focused on the little figure shivering just slightly due to the chill air of the dungeons from where he was standing, the bars of the prison cell separating King Taehyung and his rather young and newly wedded wife, the younger not having any idea that he was even there in one of the shadows, watching her hug her legs as she rocked back and forth.

"Bring her to me." Instructor Jeon was ordered in the King's heavy voice, it's rumble almost shaking up the walls as the younger man bowed respectfully before one of the dungeon keepers unlocked the cell, followed by Y/n being escorted out who started to try to challenge and fight Jeon, causing him to sigh as he bit the inside of his cheek, just pulling the reckless Queen without any conversation.

"LET ME GO! I AM THE QUEEN! HOW DARE YOU LAY YOUR LOWLY HANDS ON ME YOU IMBECILE! I WILL REPORT YOU ALL TO THE KING! HOW DARE ANY OF YOU EVEN TOUCH ME LET ALONE LOCK ME IN THIS HIDEOUS GOD FORBIDDEN DUNGEON! THAT FUCKING MAID AND YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE JUST WAIT! YOU WILL FACE MY WRA-" her threats turned into an embarrassing loud squeak when a now irritated King exposed his huge figure from the shadows of the dungeon before landing his hand on her soft cheek in full swing to shut her up, catching the young woman off guard as she lost her balance and fell on the ground.

"So very disappointing." Y/n was about to get back up and start screaming when she realises the voice to be her husband's. Oh no. He was one person she had to be good in front of so she could have him bring all her wishes true. Blinking her eyes to get rid of the stars in her eyes due to the impact of the King's slap, the Queen looked up at her husband, bottom lip jutting out.

"Y- Your highness! I've been disrespected so bad!" The man felt himself cringe from her vocabulary. What noble family raised their daughter like this? It was like she was raised in the slums. "You've no idea! I was disrespected by all these cruel people! They put me in prison! The Queen! This is unacce-"

"Enough!" A little gasp left her as he grabbed a huge handful of the air from the top of her head, pulling her up on her feet forcefully before starting to drag The Queen of the dungeon in front of everyone, the girl stumbling as she whined from the pain and tried to keep up, her small figure and strength nothing compared to the 40 year old King.

"I- Owww! Let g- gooooo~! It hurrrrts!" Y/n's cheeks were red in embarrassment as she caught all the staff of the Royal Palace watching her being dragged to the Royal Residency and then their chambers as her husband kept a firm grip on her hair, both of her smaller hands that were cupping over his unable to aid her. "You o- old man!" She grunted to herself as he dragged her towards the double doors of their chambers, a huge pout on her face along the pained expression. "Ugh! I told mother you looked like a cruel old grandpa King! But they forced me to marry you and now I am being abused!" Although she was only mumbling it, Taehyung could hear it and it angered him only more.

So his own wife thought of him as a cold and cruel King with no regard for anyone like the rest of the kingdom too, huh?

"OUCH!" The Queen squeaked when she was swung against the ground as her husband locked the door from the inside, unbuckling the leather belt around his pants before pulling it out of it's hoops and doubling it. "THAT WAS SO CRUEL OF YOU! NOW THE MAIDS WILL THINK DISRESPECTING ME IS OKAY! WHAT KIND OF-"

"Oh, shut up!" Turning around, the King moved before his young wife could even decipher what was happening, grabbing her smaller body and forcing her on her knees by her neck, pushing her further down so she was on all fours before locking her in place like that by the back of her throat, landing merciless belts on her sensitive still clothed buttocks, his strength enough to make it hurt still even through all the layers of fabric she wore. "You talk and complain too much."

Y/n was screeching as she tried to get away from the strong man, starting to crawl like a bitch almost, jerking with each hit as she tried to get away although having no luck, her husband's huge hand holding her nape tightly which controlled her whole body. "AHHH! PLEASE! PLEASE! WHAT DID I EVEN DOOOOO!" The girl pathetically crawled in circles, sobbing already.

"Humiliating me as a King and a husband is what you did." Came an angered reply before the King just ripped her beautiful and expensive robes off from behind, now landing his belt on her exposed skin, causing her to scream even louder.

Y/n hated it. All the fucking maids could hear it too. Nobody would respect her or be afraid of her anymore. She was just a laughing stock now. Being disciplined by her own husband like a child. Spanking at that.

“I DID NOT DO ANYTHING! IT WAS THE MAID’S FAULT! SHE MESSED UP WHAT I WANTED TO EAT- OUCH!” Her ass was on fire as she kept crawling in circles like an animal, whining and crying from the pain. “THEN THEY PUT ME IN PRISON AND INSTEAD OF ASKING THEM YOU HUMILIATED ME IN FRONT OF THEM! THIS IS NOT FAIR! THIS IS ABUSE!”

Taehyung deeply chuckled in disbelief as he finally stopped. “You really do not get it, do you, huh?” When Y/n continued to cry like a child and just stare at him in confusion, the King clicked his tongue in distaste and made his way to the edge of the bed while dragging her with him by her nape like a toy, taking a seat before wrapping the belt around her neck. "This is what they do in your Kingdom? Explains why you are all so illiterate and beaten up by the neighboring Kingdoms." The girl's eyebrows furrowed as he pulled her closer by the makeshift leash, their faces inches away now.

"How pathetic" Taehyung's eyes were dark and full of fury as he stared down at her through the long strands of his coal coloured hair, landing a wad of spit straight on her nose which dripped down to her lips, causing her to whine out only to be shushed with a slap. "You do not even know what you did. Tsk." His hand jerked at her leash when she tried to get away followed by a slap landing on her cheek.

"We do not hit our servants here, you illiterate little disrespectful slut" Y/n's eyes widened at his sudden choice of words, the King's cock getting hard from the sight of her on her knees on a leash like this after getting spanked. Completely at his mercy. "What are you in this Kingdom? An outsider with no knowledge or skills whatsoever; nothing." The girl gulped from his deep tone and harsh words, her hands free by her sides but unable to get up and try to defend herself. "You are nothing. But my mere wife. How dare you think you could order anyone here and then hit them for it?" A slap landed on her face before he grabbed her hair by his other hand, pulling at it and making her cry out, causing her lips to part as tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

"You're nothing without me." Taehyung deeply spoke, maintaining the eye contact while tightening his grip around her soft hair. "You're nothing to order or punish anyone here." A soft whimper escaped the girl when he spat on her tongue, squeezing on her throat just a little bit and cutting off her oxygen, watching her face get red as she ran out of breath, only adding to his need. "You're just a little bitch. A bitch for me to breed and take pleasure out of." While still choking her, Taehyung unclothed his cock with his other hand, pumping the erect organ just a little before loosening his grip. "What are you?" Y/n gasped for air as more tears streamed down her face, drool dripping out of her already swollen lips. "What are you?!" The man roughly jerked her by the throat, eliciting a squeak out of her.

"A- A bitch! A bitch, y- your Majesty!"

"Good." Taehyung's lips curled into a satisfied smirk before he forced her face closer to his cock, pushing it straight into her mouth with full strength, causing her to gag instantly as the girl's eyes widened in alarm of what was happening. "Fuck…" The King threw his head back and arched his hips, getting used to the feeling of her tight and warm mouth clasped around his shaft. "So fucking tight and warm" a shudder ripped through his whole body from the feeling.

Y/n was struggling to breathe as she felt more and more tears escaping her eyes, limbs trembling from the intensity. "Just a bitch…" Taehyung's beautiful lips parted as he threw his head back, starting to thrust in her throat as he made her face meet him halfway, literally stomping it up and down his cock with the help of her hair. "I think I need to teach you your place since I didn't really have the time to when you arrived, hm?" His breaths were getting heavy as he glared down at her, pulling his cock out of her mouth and slowly pumping it, whimpering silently before he started to release his piss out and all over her face, causing it to drip down her chin and on her chest.

"Open up!" Prying her mouth open before landing a slap on her cheek, the male forced his leaking cock in her mouth and moaned, his balls hurting from how horny he was. "Drink it! Don't waste it!" Her face dangled to the side when he slapped it again, spitting on her. "Look at you! Nothing but a filthy little disgusting fucking urinal! Thinking she could do whatever in MY Palace just because she married me!" Tears were escaping her eyes and trailing down her cheeks as her throat slightly burnt from the abuse it underwent a few moments ago and now the hot piss she was being forced to consume.

"Move over" Taehyung growled when he was done, pushing her out of the way before kneeling on the ground and forcing her face against the ground that was wet from his face, pushing it in the small puddle. "Fuck… you're so much better when you're being like this, tsk." Smacking her ass and making her whine from the pain, the King spat copious amounts of spit on her pucker before massaging it in, causing her eyes to widen in realisation.

"Y- YOUR HIGH-"

"Shut it." Her eyes widened to the shape of saucers before rolling just slightly upward when he suddenly tugged at the belt, pulling her backwards all the while pushing his thick and long cock right up her small, unused ass. "You don't get a say in anything, 'dear'." The endearment was a mere taunt, the King's cock twitching in her soft walls as he pulled it out a little before pushing it back in, causing her tiny rim to forcefully expand and restrict it from defensively contracting, drilling the hole in strong and small paced thrusts.

"A foolish fucking child is what you are. No sense of responsibility." His deep voice was firm and Y/n couldn't help but gulp, helplessly being used in whichever way husband liked. "This can't go on like this. The Queen's court is a laughing stock at this point because she is not even there!" Y/n desperately tried to breath as he harshly slapped her ass, trying to force his balls in too. "Only enjoying her privileges!" Tilting her head back by her chin so she was forced to look up at him although upside down, the King spat in her mouth, shaking his head in distaste.

"I- I am sorry! I am sorry! I- I swear! P- Please! Please! I won't b- be bad again!" Y/n was crying as her ass burned. "Please, Y- Your Highness!" He wasn't an old and foolish King like she'd thought. Oh no.

"You better be." Harshly pulling her closer, Taehyung kissed her despite the piss coating her face, hands hastily slipping to her chest and fiddling with the little fabric left on her body, thumbs stroking her nipples and hardening them in an instant as his hands palmed her breasts. "You will only know obedience. I was letting you off because you were just a young little bride that had to leave her Kingdom and family. But I refuse to let you make a joke of my Kingdom and I."

Brats was one thing King Kim fucking despised. All talk no work.

"Y- Yes! P- P- Please stop! It hurts!" His heart fluttered from how she whined and pouted, looking cute even with her face all red and literally piss covered.

"That is the whole point." Peppering kisses down her neck, Taehyung but the tender skin and sucked harshly on it, marking her as his property. "When I have time one of these days, I'll make sure I force fuck some sense of responsibility in you, you pathetic brat. You will be a useful Queen, faithful wife and loving mother." Her eyes widened when she realised what he was saying. "I'll fill you deep and well with my heirs and you will raise each one yourself."

"I A- AM T- TOO YOUNG THOUGH! P- PLEASE!"

Taehyung grunted upon her pathetic attempts to try to break free from his grasp, only earning a harsh pinch to her nipples as he continued to give her hickeys all over her neck.

"You still think you get to decide?!" He chuckled in disbelief, biting down on her skin and softly grunting when he felt his balls twitch, forcing one of her hands to touch them as he tried to force them up her small rim. "No. You take what's being given to you and you be grateful for it! Bitches like you open their legs for their Masters and breed as much children from them as they want. That's all they fucking do."

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zuko-always-lies · 3 years

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Unpopular Opinion: Zuko’s treatment of Mai is deeply toxic.

Mai is a character who is often maligned in the fandom, with it even occasionally being claimed that she was “abusive” toward Zuko. Any objective analysis of Mai’s behavior in her relationship with Zuko will instead find that she was, in fact, a shockingly good romantic partner, generally treating Zuko very well and being loyal to him far beyond reasonable expectation. Claims that Mai behaved toxically toward Zuko seem to be instead founded in misogynistic expectations that women be perfect caretakers for the men in their lives.

That is not to say that the Zuko-Mai relationship isn’t still deeply toxic. However, its toxicity stems from the manner which Zuko badly mistreats Mai, often in ways which devalue her. Much more under the cut.

Our story begins in the first half of Book 3. The vast majority of episodes there don’t show anything particularly toxic going on in the relationship. The most you can say is that they suggest that Zuko tends to dump his problems on others and doesn’t have best understanding of his girlfriend.

However, inevitably we must turn to “The Beach,” the episode which, by far, gets the most into the Zuko-Mai relationship. To say that Zuko doesn’t behave well toward Mai in this episode would be an understatement. I don’t speak here of Zuko’s unsuccessful attempts to please Mai early in the episode, but instead how badly he starts treating her beginning at the party:

Ruon Jian: Hey, first ones here, huh? Zuko: (cut to shot of Zuko and Mai walking side by side) Pft. He thinks he's so great. (to Mai) Well, what do you think of him? (they stop walking) Mai: I don't have any opinion about him. I hardly know him. Zuko: You like him, don't you? (Mai sighs and walks away, as Zuko looks angrily in the direction of Ruon Jian. The camera zooms in on Ruon Jian)

And

(Cut to shot of Ruon Jian leaning over Mai. Zuko rushes toward them angrily and pushes Ruon Jian away from her. Cut to shot of Ruon Jian straightening his hair.) Ruon Jian: Whoa. What are you doing? Zuko: (close-up shot of Zuko, angry) Stop talking to my girlfriend! Ruon Jian: (Ruon Jian approaches Zuko) Relax, it's just a party. (Zuko pushes Ruon Jian hard, sending him flying across the room, breaking a giant vase.) Mai: (Mai stands up and grabs Zuko's shoulder. He turns towards her.) Zuko, what is wrong with you?! Zuko: What's wrong with me?! Mai: (angrily) Your temper's out of control. You blow up over every little thing. You're so impatient and hot-headed and angry. Zuko: Well, at least I feel something...as opposed to you. You have no passion for anything. (raising his arms is the air) You're just a big "blah". Mai: (turning away from him) It's over, Zuko. We're done.

And:

(Zuko follows her and the camera pans down to the handprint, left alone on the porch. Cut to wide view of the camera panning down Ember Island Beach. Zuko and Azula are walking side by side toward Mai and Ty Lee. Close shot of Zuko looking toward Mai and then looking away. Close shot of Mai looking angry and a bit sad.) Mai: Hey... (Interrupted) Zuko: (close shot of Zuko) Where's your new boyfriend? (Mai turns away angrily. Zuko comes and sits next to her) Are you cold? (he puts his arm around her, but she slaps it away)

Zuko is acting in a massively controlling fashion toward Mai, motivated by his violent and rage-filled jealously. She literally can’t talk to a boy without Zuko flying into a jealous rage, trying to separate her from the person she’s talking to, and accusing her of emotional infidelity. In real life, this is considered a warning sign for an abusive relationship(although I don’t think Zuko has crossed the line into abusive yet).

“The Beach” also gives us this:

Mai: Oh, well, I'm sorry I can't be as high-strung and crazy as the rest of you. (Cut to over-head shot of the four teens. Zuko walks closer to the fire and Mai.) Zuko: I'm sorry, too. I wish you would be high-strung and crazy for once, (Close shot of Mai looking away and Zuko standing over her) instead of keeping all your feelings bottled up inside. She just called your aura dingy. Are you gonna take that?

Zuko tries to provoke Mai into having a fight with her best friend Ty Lee just so he can watch her express strong emotions. Zuko very much wants to Mai to be and act like someone she’s not, which has its own issues.

Overall, Zuko treats Mai quite poorly in “The Beach.” The episode ends with this:

Mai: I know one thing I care about... (Cut to shot of Mai smiling at Zuko) I care about you. (Mai and Zuko kiss. Azula claps, causing them to separate and turn toward Azula. The camera pans left to include her.)

Mai forgives Zuko and accepts him back without him acknowledging his behavior was wrong, apologizing for it, or giving her any guarantee that he will treat her better in the future. That’s unfortunate, as Zuko soon ends up treating her far, far worse than he ever did in this episode.

Zuko’s disregard for Mai cumulates with the manner he commits treason on the Day of Black Sun. Let us start our understanding of what he did wrong from the beginning. Breaking up with Mai via a letter which didn’t give her a real explanation was a real asshole move, but it’s not at the core of what he did wrong. For that, we need to turn to this conversation from “The Headband”:

Zuko: Can't you see we're busy? (He and Mai resume their "business".) Azula: (not to be put off) Oh, Mai... Ty Lee needs your help untangling her braid. Mai: (complaisantly) Sounds pretty serious. (She gets up and leaves. Walking past Azula, towards the camera, she shoots the princess a quick, poisonous glance behind her back.) Azula: So...I hear you've been to visit your Uncle Fatso in the prison tower. Zuko: (standing, incensed) That guard told you. Azula: (smugly) No, you did. Just now. Zuko: (sitting back down) Okay, you caught me. What is it that you want, Azula? Azula: (solicitiously) Actually, nothing. Believe it or not, I'm looking out for you. If people find out you've been to see Uncle, they'll think you're plotting with him. Just be careful, dum-dum.

Zuko has proven his loyalty to the Fire Nation beyond doubt, yet Azula is still very worried that him spending time with Iroh will get him accused of treason, because having a close association with traitors puts oneself under almost automatic suspicion of treason.

“Day of Black Sun, Part II”:

Zuko: First of all, in Ba Sing Se, it was Azula who took down the Avatar, not me. Fire Lord Ozai: Why would she lie to me about that? Zuko: Because the Avatar is not dead. He survived. Fire Lord Ozai: (alarmed) What?!

Zuko deliberately throws Azula under the bus, hurting her and reducing her status with Ozai as much possible while effectively accusing her of deliberately committing treason. He also deliberately pisses off Ozai as much as possible.

So where does this leave us? Mai is Zuko’s known girlfriend and extremely close associate. Automatically, the suspicion of knowing of Zuko’s treason ahead of time or being involved falls upon her. She’s in grave risk of being imprisoned, tortured, or executed, especially since Ozai seems not the type to be strictly concerned with ensuring those he punishes are guilty beyond reasonable doubt. The Fire Nation seems like a society which might have collective punishment(as historical East Asian societies, Nazi Germany, and the Stalinist Soviet Union did), and Mai might be under risk from that direction. Finally, Ozai might hurt her simply as way of retaliating against Zuko.

Normally Azula would almost certainly be able to protect her friend, even under these trying circumstances, given Azula’s prestige and accomplishments. However, Zuko has deliberately undermined Azula as much as possible and effectively accused her of committing treason herself, dramatically reducing the probability that she will be able to protect Mai. In fact, Mai stands risk of being accused of being involved in Azula’s effort to “conceal the fact that the Avatar survived,” given Mai’s close association with Azula and her close involvement in the events where the Avatar “died.” She’s thus under danger from two different directions.

“But Zuko had to betray his father and become good through aiding Team Avatar.” Yes, it’s a good thing he did so. But Zuko had other options than the course he adopted. He could have avoided confronting Ozai at all and instead focused on rescuing Iroh(interesting AU idea right here). He could have confronted Ozai but not thrown Azula under the bus, and that alone would have vastly reduced the risk to Mai(and also made Zuko out to be a better person, because deliberately throwing your younger sister under the bus and then abandoning her to the mercy of your abusive father is not a good look). Zuko could have killed Ozai right then and there during the eclipse. He even could have tried to lead Team Avatar to the bunker and tried to end the war right then and there.

“Zuko didn’t understand that he was placing Mai in danger.” Quite possible, but Zuko being so self-centered that he is unable of understanding that his actions can have negative effects on other people is a mark against him, not for him.

Now we turn to the Zuko’s behavior toward Mai in the rest of the third season. Let us start with “The Boiling Rock, Part 1”:

Sokka: (emphatically) I think your Uncle would be proud of you. Leaving your home to come help us, that's hard. Zuko: It wasn't that hard. Sokka: (Cut to a side view of the basket) Really? You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about? Zuko: Well I did have a girlfriend. Mai. Sokka: (He goes closer to Zuko with a surprised look on his face) That gloomy girl who sighs a lot? Zuko: (Cut back to show Zuko grinning goofily) Yeah. (his face turns serious) Everyone in the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor. I couldn't drag her into it. Sokka: (Cut back to Sokka who leans back on the basket) My first girlfriend turned into the Moon. Zuko: (looks up) That's rough buddy

There are two things to unpack here. First, Zuko claims he “couldn’t drag her into it,” yet he already did, as I’ve illustrated above. Second, Zuko seems to expect that Mai would have followed him into treason if he asked her, that she would be willing to betray her nation, ideology, family, and friends just for the sake of her love for him. That’s an insane and pretty toxic expectation for Zuko to have for her relationship with him, especially since he wouldn’t do the same for her.

We also get more confirmation that Zuko doesn’t care at all about Ty Lee or Azula.

I don’t have a lot to say about the Zuko-Mai conversation during Boiling Rock, Part 2. The only things I would like to note are that Zuko is not very sorry for what he did, not very empathetic toward Mai’s pain, and doesn’t give Mai a real apology for his actions.

Of course, Mai proceeds to save Zuko’s life through committing treason in front of dozens of witnesses at Boiling Rock, something which places her own life in serous jeopardy. How does Zuko react to this?

Zuko: (Cut to a shocked Zuko) It's Mai. Azula: (Cut to a furious Azula) What is she doing?! (Cut to the backs of Azula and Ty Lee as Ty Lee shrugs and makes a "I don't know" noise. Cut to the gondola as it reaches the outer part of the crater. Cut to the inside of the entrance tower as the door opens and Suki rushes out followed by Sokka, Zuko, Hakoda and Chit Sang. Hakoda turns towards Chit Sang and points to the inside of the gondola. Chit Sang proceeds to throw the warden back in.) Hakoda: (Cut to the back of Hakoda's head looking at the warden lying on the floor) Sorry Warden, your record is officially broken. (Hakoda walks off screen while the warden continues to struggle on the floor. Cut to a front shot of the group as they run up a rocky incline.) Suki: Well, we made it out. Now what? Sokka: (Sokka stops and looks back at Zuko who pauses in his tracks, thinking) Zuko, what are you doing? Zuko: My sister was on that island. Sokka: Yeah and she's probably right behind us. So let's not stop. Zuko: What I mean is she must have come here somehow. (He runs to the edge of the rocks and looks down) There. (Cut to an area looking up at the edge of the cliff) That's our way out of here. (Camera pans down to reveal a Fire Nation zeppelin docked at the shore.

Zuko says Mai’s name once and then abandons her (to die?) with zero hesitation. This is probably objectively the correct decision. It would probably be extremely difficult and dangerous if not outright impossible to save Mai. The prison-break crew do have access to an airship, but it’s difficult to fly an airship over the lake’s thermals.

Yet that’s not my point. Zuko abandons Mai with zero hesitation, with zero anguish, with zero angst. He doesn’t even to seem consider the possibility that he should save her. Something tells me if Iroh had just saved Zuko’s life under identical circumstances and then was in imminent risk of harm, Zuko would act very differently, that Sokka, Suki, and Hakoda would have to drag him off that island.

Zuko’s complete disregard for Mai continues for the rest the series. Remember this exchange from “The Cave of Two Lovers”?

Zuko: (losing his patience) We're not taking any more chances with these plants! We need to get help. Iroh: But where are we going to go? We're enemies of the Earth Kingdom, and fugitives from the Fire Nation. Zuko: (musingly) If the Earth Kingdom, discovers us, they'll have us killed. Iroh: But if the Fire Nation discovers us, we'll be turned over to Azula.

Zuko considers being captured by Azula a worse fate than death!

But do we see Zuko worry once about Mai’s fate? Do we see angst about what might have happened to her? Do we see him make any effort to even discover her fate, much less rescue her?

No. In fact, Zuko launches a sophisticated operation to infiltrate a Fire Nation information center so that he can gain intelligence in order to help Katara murder someone so that she’ll like him, but he doesn’t even consider doing the same to find out about Mai’s fate so that he could potentially rescue her. Zuko doesn’t even mention Mai once after Boiling Rock until the very end of the series finale, even though she sacrificed herself to save him. Remember this exchange(“Sozin’s Comet, Part 3”):

Zuko: Sorry, but you're not going to become Fire Lord today. (jumps off Appa) I am. Azula: (laughs) You're hilarious. Katara: (standing beside Zuko) And you're going down. (The fire sage motions to crown Azula, but she raises her hand, signalling him to stop.) Azula: Wait. You want to be Fire Lord Fine. Let's settle this. Just you and me, brother. The showdown that was always meant to be. Agni Kai! Zuko: You're on. (Katara turns to Zuko, surprised. Cut to a close up of Azula's lips as the curls into a smile. Cut back to Katara and Zuko.) Katara: What are you doing? She's playing you. She knows she can't take us both so she is trying to separate us. Zuko: I know. But I can take her this time. Katara: But even you admitted to your Uncle that you would need help facing Azula. Zuko: There's something off about her, I can't explain it but she's slipping. And this way, no one else has to get hurt. (Fade to a shot of the courtyard from the side. The camera pans from Zuko kneeling on the right end to Azula kneeling on the left end. Cut to a shot of Zuko rising and turning around, then cut to a shot of Azula rising. Each can be seen behind the other. Cut to a shot of Azula from the front turning and removing the Fire Lord robes.) Azula: I'm sorry it has to end this way, brother. Zuko: (in his stance) No, you're not.

Notice something? Zuko doesn’t demand to know what happened to Mai! It’s almost like he forgot she existed!

Now we turn to the final infamous exchange(“Sozin’s Comet, Part 4”):

Mai:(off screen) You need some help with that? (He looks up surprised and moves aside to reveal Mai leaning against the doorway. Cut to a close up of Mai as she walks towards Zuko.) Zuko: (Cut to a delighted Zuko) Mai! (Walks off screen) You're ok. (Cut to an area behind Mai's back as Zuko opens his arms out in a hug) They let you out of prison? (Mai walks behind Zuko and lifts up his empty robe sleeve.) Mai: My uncle (Zuko puts his arms through the sleeve) pulled some strings, (she proceeds to fasten his robe) and it doesn't hurt when the new Fire Lord is your boyfriend. (She walks in front of Zuko and places a hand on his chest) Zuko: So does this mean you don't hate me anymore? Mai: (she blushes) I think it means... (Cut to a close up of the couple) I actually (places a hand on Zuko's cheek) kind of like you. (They lean in for a kiss and part a fewseconds later, looking into each other's eyes happily) But don't ever (She jabs a finger into Zuko's shoulder and Zuko's eye traces the movement of her finger) break up (She lifts her finger into the air and Zuko's eyes still follows it) with me again. (She jabs her finger into Zuko's shoulder one last time and Zuko smiles goofily. They embrace and the camera zooms out slowly.

Zuko seems surprised to learn that Mai is OK, almost like he made no effort to find out her fate once he took charge of the Fire Nation. And indeed, his first acts as leader of the Fire Nation were not to find out what happened to her or, if he actually knew, to get her released from prison. Mai only got released from prison when her uncle and his connections got sufficiently confident that Zuko had been completely accepted as the new leader to release a massive traitor completely on their own initiative. This was quite possibly weeks after Azula-Zuko Agni Kai, yet he made no apparent effort to get her released. It’s almost like Zuko completely forgot about Mai, even though she sacrificed herself to save him.

And, of course, Zuko doesn’t accept responsibility for any of the awful ways he treated Mai, much less apologize to her or offer any guarantee he will behave better in the future. Mai still forgives him anyways, just like she did in “The Beach,” only for Zuko to continue to screw her over. There is something deeply depressing here, as there’s every reason to believe that Zuko will screw over Mai over, devalue her, and disregard her well-being, desires, and interests again the moment it’s convenient for him to do so. He certainly has not recognized that his toxic behavior here is something he needs to stop doing. Ironically, the comics get this right by having Zuko try to use his power as Firelord to order Mai to stay his girlfriend.

Ultimately, Zuko loves Mai and cares about her deeply, yet he still treats her as a tool and acts like she exists to serve him. It reminds me how show! canon Ozai genuinely loved show! canon Ursa, but still used her as a tool and threw her away. Honestly, I doubt 16-year-old Zuko is really ready for any romantic relationship at all, given his often toxic behavior, his trauma, and the incredibly stressful position he’s placed in at the end of the series.

#Azula #Zuko #Mai #Ty Lee #Dangerous Ladies #Ozai #Zuko meta #ATLA meta #meta #Unpopular opinion

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hobidreams · 4 years

Text

may 1861.

here, the world vanishes and you are unafraid to dream, to want.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: fluff! words: 1.2k contains: historical au, teenage!yoongi, literally just cute stuff

moonlit throne index. this is drabble ten. start from the beginning?

You knock three times, three short raps, then push open the door to the crown prince’s private library. Sunlight invades the room unabashedly through the intricate window design, bathing the entire space in the warmth of a spring pleasantly acquiescing to summer. You inhale the scent of the aged wooden bookshelves and the worn paper they house. You feel yourself finally relax, having worked all the morning away.

At first, with the silence, you think you’re alone. You try to brush off the disappointment as you wander among the shelving, trying to decide what you will study today. You’ve just pulled a collection of herb properties off the rack when there’s a rustling, a crisp page turned with a careful hand.

“You’re back again?”

The drawl is only reserved for especially lazy times and it seems today is one of them as you peer through the newly-made book hole to find the prince lounging comfortably on the seat beneath the window. He shifts back when you make brief eye contact, drawing in the socked feet on the bench to make room.

“Yes, seja-jeonha. I’m back.”

It’s been three months since he gave you permission to access this normally off-limits space, as you mentioned needing more books to study with in conversation with Eunuch Kim. The first time you came had been profusely awkward: two bodies sitting stiffly across the room, too acutely aware of possibly being scrutinized by the other person to get anything done. But you tried again. And again. Soon, you were stealing away to the library whenever it was possible, if only for half an hour. It gradually became natural for you to share the widest seat, where the most sunshine reached (to ease the strain on your eyes, he reasoned). It didn’t take long after that before you were both ditching your rigid shoes, facing each other while he brought his knees up and you crossed your ankles, taking care that your chima skirt covered anything inappropriate.

Why he still insists on acting as if he’s surprised that you’re here, you don’t know. But you’re happy to play along if it means these afternoons keep going.

“Table,” he says, not even looking up from his book.

“Pardon?”

“Table.”

Okay… Still holding the text you picked up earlier, you shuffle to the desk on the other side of the room and gasp.

“Oh, this is— No…!” You abandon the herbs tome. You struggle to keep your fingers delicate through the excitement as you reach for the new book next to it, one you’ve been wanting to read for so long but could never find for its scarcity. You’d gushed about it to the prince just last week, about how it combines folk stories and myths with factual information of flower species from all across the country. “Seja-jeonha! Did you find this? How did you manage such a thing!”

“No, I didn’t. It arrived with the other books yesterday by chance.”

You don’t quite believe him as you clutch the book close to your chest in glee, practically dancing on your way to the bench. “Thank you,” you say, taking a seat on the spot you’ve started considering yours.

“It was not me,” he insists.

“Thank you so much.” You wiggle slightly, settling in with a wide smile as you watch him refocus on his reading harder, even though you both know he hasn’t turned the page in quite a few minutes.

Even as you peel open the cover of the precious text though, there’s something that captures your attention a bit more. It’s the way the sun has shifted, rays falling differently onto Yoongi’s face to kiss the pale skin beneath his sleepy eyes before scattering out across his cheeks. How the light dapples across the nose that occasionally scrunches in irritation at the countless dust particles floating around, haloing him in a golden glow that you wish you could capture in your memory for safekeeping (and later revisiting, when you inevitably feel the twinge of yearning).

Seeing this view... you think. You want. You wish for this moment to go on for a lifetime. Such desires have never been so startlingly intense and the thought alone is a terrifying one as soon as it slips into your mind but the feeling, the feeling settles in your heart like it has always been there, steadily beating away just beneath your skin.

Yoongi looks up and you snap your head away to the side so hard your neck cracks.

Your face heats with the embarrassment at being caught and you insist on pretending you were looking out the window at the garden, the multicolors bursting into vivacity. You hadn’t noticed the violet flowers coming in but now they seem to be on their way to full blossom, and the sight tugs a smile to your lips. The lotus too, beginning their cycle to beautify the pavilion even more. You’ll ask mother to take you on a walk through the garden soon, under guise of plant care.

“Books are for reading, you know.”

“Huh? Oh. I’m sorry.” It’s an automatic apology, but you know he doesn’t mean it by the gentle half-smile, half-scowl on his face. “It’s just that the pavilion is my favorite. I can’t help admiring it.”

“Why? It’s practically falling apart.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful.”

He hums a noncommittal noise.

You let the subject drop, finally turning to your reading. It’s usually how these days go. Part of you has always wondered if he remembers these brief, but precious words you exchange before the silence takes over; the weighted book sitting in your lap seems to be all the proof you need. So, you sit back. Enjoy this brief respite from reality with dreams quietly blooming in your chest.

“What are you thinking so hard about? You’ll get wrinkles that way.” Later that night, facing you beneath her blankets, mother shakes a hand free to tap you on the forehead.

“Nothing much…” But you can’t stop the sliver of giddiness that runs through you when you think of today and that wonderful book. “I just… I think that I might like someone a lot.” The other L-word feels too big, too heavy to be used right now, even if it’s the right one.

“Oh?” To your great relief, mother knows better than to ask the identity of this mystery person. Just smiles with a fondness that makes you feel even more fuzzy inside. “Are you going to tell them?”

“I don’t think so. But that’s fine. It wouldn’t make a difference either way.” From the very beginning, you’ve known that the distance between you is too vast to ever be breached. To not fall would have been the most painless, but in hindsight, impossible. If concealing the truth will allow you to be close to him, then maybe that will be enough for someone like you.

Mother rolls onto her back. “It’s your choice.” She shuts her eyes. Just as you think she’s drifted off, she says, “just remember that you are always deserving of love. No matter what.”

You think about those words for a long time until you finally fall asleep.

a/n: we’ve made it to drabble 10! phew. & there is so much more to come. if you’re enjoying the series, i’d love to hear your thoughts on it so far ♡♡ your support keeps me going!

#ficswithluv #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts imagines #min yoongi #historical au #moonlit throne #rain writes #*clenches fist* he's so mfing cute

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krreader · 3 years

Text

seven sins | chapter six.

pairing: bts x reader ; kim taehyung x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; historical!au ; princes!bts ; concubine!reader ; mentions of sex genre: fluff ; angst word count: 2.3k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5

summary: even in times such as yours, you still led a privileged life with nothing to ask for. that is until first your father, then your mother died and you were left to care for your two younger sisters. the position for royal physician seemed to be open and with your father having been a general and your mother having been a maid for the queen, you thought you might be able to get it.. little did you know that your visit to the palace would put a completely different offer on the table.

a/n: WE’RE BACK TO POSTING REGULARLY BITCHACHOS! ♥ and this deserves a fucking update, still one of my fav originals to date

“Stop it, this isn't funny!”

You smiled from ear to ear when you could hear your sisters bickering with each other, walking up the familiar stairs to your home that you haven’t walked in weeks now, before carefully sliding open the doors.

Your youngest sister was annoying the older one with a stick, acting as if it was a sword, while the older one just wanted to be left alone.

Funny how so many things had changed... yet others stayed exactly the same.

“You should treat your older sister with a little more respect, you know?”

“(Y/N)!” both of them ran into your arms the moment you had finished your sentence, you hugging them as hard as you could, breathing in their scent that you missed so much, "You’re finally back!”

“I'm sorry I wasn't able to come sooner,” you kissed both of their heads, then showed them the bag that you were holding with a grin, “But I brought you a lot of treats!”

Were you allowed to take them? Probably not. But the kitchen staff always prepared too much for you concubines anyways. It’d be a shame to throw it all away when you had two wonderful sisters sitting at home who’d devour such things.

And indeed, the fact that you were gone for a while seemed to have been forgotten while they stuffed their faces.

For a moment you were afraid that maybe they haven't had enough to eat, but they looked healthy.

“Hey! Why are you eating so much, you make it seem like I haven't fed you at all!” Jun entered with crossed arms, “I've been cooking every day for you brats!”

“Sorry, Auntie Jun, but it's really good,” the youngest said.

She scoffed, but then quickly pulled you into her arms to greet you properly. After all, you also hadn’t seen her in a while.

“I got you something as well,” you whispered, pulling out a bag full of coins and sliding it into the pockets of her dress.

“No, no, no, I don't want this.”

“They give this to us every once in a while to buy new clothes, but I don't need that. You've been clearly taking care of them, Jun, I want you to have this. If not for you, then for your parents.”

She didn't like to take, she usually only gave, but.. she sighed in defeat when she knew she had to take it this time. Like you said, if not for her sake, then for that of her family.

“Thank you,” she squeezed you in her arms once more, then looked at the children to make sure they were still busy with the treats, before pulling you further away from them to have a private conversation.

What she was about to talk to you about shouldn't be heard by them.

“How are you? How are.. things?”

“I'm alright. They haven't found out why I'm there yet, but I think the queen is getting suspicious.”

“Because you're not pregnant, yet? The herbs work?”

“As well as I thought they would, yes. I've slept with four princes so far, so I should be pregnant by now. The good news, though, I heard that because Prince Seokjin is the heir to the throne, he is the one who needs to get a child as soon as possible. So the king ordered that nobody but him is allowed to get me with child and.. he hasn't been one of the four yet.”

“So as long as you stay away from him..-”

“Yes. At least it gives me an excuse. Not a good one, the queen knows men too well, but it's better than nothing.”

“Why haven't you talked to the king yet? You've been up there for a while, haven't you had the chance yet?”

“He's very reserved. Just like I had expected. My father used to tell me that he only saw him so much because he was pretty much the only person he ever trusted. I need a chance to speak with him when he’s alone.”

“Why can't you just tell anyone else? What about one of the princes? Maybe they could help you?”

“I don't know them well enough, Jun. Yes, some of them seem to like me a lot, but I can't take that risk. If I'm wrong, they might give the order to kill me. But with the king, I at least still have the card of my father to play. He will listen to me when he finds out who I really am and then all of this will finally be over.”

“So.. none of the princes could be an ally?”

“Well.. Prince Seokjin might be. He's.. troubled, these days. The weight of becoming the leader and bringing an heir into this world is crushing him. I talked to him once and I feel like he might understand me the most.. of what it's like to trying to look out for your family.”

“Then why not try that?”

“I've only seen him twice. I don't know what he's doing, but he doesn't seem to be much interested in me, to be honest.”

“Well, you managed to sleep with four princes so far. That's more than half of them. If anyone can do it, you can,” she put her hand on your shoulder, “But you need to be careful. I told you that the whole thing about you not being pregnant would cause a problem.”

“I know. But that is why I need to be careful with Prince Seokjin. If I see him and I really do end up sleeping with him but not get pregnant, then people are going to seriously ask questions. That is why the king is still my first option and Prince Seokjin only the second.”

“Whatever you do, you need to hurry,” she turned her head and looked at the two girls sitting on the floor, still eating and chatting about which treat they like the most, “They've been alright, but they ask questions that I don't know how to answer. They know you're working at the palace now, but not what you do there. Neither does anybody else. Yet. But if people do find out, I'm worried that they might treat the two differently. You know how the town folk looks at concubines.”

“I know. Which is why I'm grateful that you haven't said anything to anyone.”

“You know I'd never do that.”

As much as you would have loved to stay the whole night and talk more with both Jun and your siblings, time wasn’t something you had much of these days.

Concubines, especially those with your rank, were only allowed a short period of time in the village. Nevertheless, you spent every second that you could with your family, had your sisters tell you about what's new, cuddled a bunch with them and assured them that you'd be back soon.

However, this time saying goodbye wasn't as hard as the last time, because now they knew that you’d indeed keep your promise of returning to them.

You were not like mother, you would not abandon them.

“Can you bring more treats next time?” the youngest asked with big eyes, making you chuckle and kiss her forehead, “The red ones with the pretty flowers on top?”

“I'll bring you as many treats as you want.”

“YES!” and with that, she ran back into Jun's arms who smiled as well.

And you took that opportunity to kneel down in front of the older one, “Tell me honestly. Are things alright?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “Jun takes good care of us, don't worry.”

“You haven't had any problems? Did anyone try to come in here?”

“No, people leave us alone,” she hugged you tightly, “We're alright, (Y/N). Really.”

God, she has grown up so much.. how long hadn't you seen her? What happened to your baby sister that always tried to get guidance from you? Now it was almost like you could ask her for guidance instead.

“I'm so proud of you..”

“Just come back to us safely.”

“I will,” you kissed the top of her head and then got up from the floor, “I will see you all soon, alright?”

And with that, you walked back to the palace, your heart not as heavy as the last time, thankfully..

..only to run into Eun and..-

“Prince.. Taehyung,” you bowed, but couldn't help the smile that spread on your face when you saw how Eun had her arm hooked with his.

So.. this was her secret Prince, huh? Definitely not a bad choice... but then again... none of them were a “bad choice”.

“There you are! I thought I might see you at the market,” she smiled, “Where did you go?”

“I uh..- I was just.. taking a walk,” you lied with a nervous chuckle that you quickly covered up by switching topics, “Anyways.. did you enjoy your day?”

“Ah, it was so nice, we had a lovely time.”

As much as you liked seeing her this happy, something about this picture in front of you was making you furrow your eyebrows.

Eun had been the one to scold you for sleeping – genuinely sleeping – with Jimin. She had been the one to tell you that it 'wasn't your place', yet she had her arm hooked with Taehyung's and was looking at him like she loved him.

Whereas he seemed to be.. not nearly as interested in her.

And why did she never tell you about her prince? Why had she kept it such a secret? You had told her about all of the ones you had slept with and now that you thought about it.. she seemed to have been relieved.. and now it all made sense. She had been relieved because Taehyung hadn't been one of them.

“My brothers told me quite a lot about you, (Y/N),” you three walked back to the castle, three guards in front, three guards behind you, “Good things only, of course.”

And see, you saw the way he looked at you, but Eun didn't. She just continued to look at him with those loving eyes and.. it hurt you. Because out of everyone at the palace, she was the only one that you truly cared about.

“Thank you, your majesty,” you said plainly, “I very much enjoyed my time with them.”

You needed to talk to her.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” you pulled Eun aside at dinner later that night.

You thought about doing this some other time and giving her a bit more space, but you hadn’t been able to think about anything other than this. If she was truly in love with Prince Taehyung, then she needed someone to wash her head and tell her that this wasn’t a fairytale.

“Of course,” she followed you into the gardens, a place where you thought it’d be best to have such a conversation. Most importantly, because of the privacy.

“If I ask you a question.. will you promise me to be honest about it?”

“Yes. We're friends, aren't we?”

Which was exactly why you needed to have that conversation with her. Because you might end up being the one breaking her heart in the end. Because if Taehyung wanted to have you, he would.

“Eun.. why did you never tell me that Taehyung was your designated prince?”

“It.. just never came up.”

“It did.. a lot of times, actually. I kept asking you about it and you kept laughing it off. It was as if you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Don't be silly,” she fidgeted with her hands, “Why would I keep that a secret?”

You stopped walking and gently grabbed her arm to make her stop too, “When you first met me, you said you wanted to be my friend because the other girls were all very competitive over their princes and that they had this mindset that they might change them and make them fall in love with them,” when she lowered her head, you knew you were right, “Eun.. did you fall in love with Prince Taehyung?”

It didn’t take more than ten seconds for her to burst into tears, confirming your suspicions.

You immediately pulled her close, rubbing your hands up and down her back, trying to comfort her as best as you could. You pitied her, really.

“Everyone else has at least two girls.. but Taehyung only has me. I thought.. I thought I was special..”

“But you are special,” you immediately leaned back to look into her eyes, “Don't you ever let a man not make you feel special. No matter who he is. You are beautiful, you are kind, you are intelligent and every man out there would be a fool not to see that.”

“But Taehyung..-”

“Is.. a different case,” you shook your head, “You said it yourself, Eun. These princes aren't looking for love, they're looking for sex and someone to give them children.”

“Not with you.. you aren't like that.”

“Yes, Eun, I am exactly like that. I'm just like you, just like every other girl here.”

“No,” she wiped away her tears and took a step back, “I overheard Taehyung talk to one of his brothers..”

“So..?” you furrowed her eyebrows, not knowing what she was trying to tell you here.

Eun straightened her back, “I don’t know which brother it was, but one of them told Taehyung that they had fallen in love with you.”

#bts imagine #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #mine #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

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cosmicpines · 3 years

Text

code july day 1 - future

au where jeremie's anti-xana program didn't work, taking place half a year after.

“Do’ya think we should start future-proofing our whole situation?” Odd was the first one to speak out loud in at least a half an hour, his voice echoing around the computer lab.

It was late. Not just “it’s a school night, we should turn off the Playstation” late, but “sunrise is in an hour” late. Ulrich, Jeremie, and Aelita were crowded on the couch – a fairly new addition to the lab that William and Odd had dragged over a mile to the factory after finding it on the street, a several-hour long affair that left them both sore for a week – blearily staring at chunky school-loaned laptop screens with piles of overdue library books on the floor in front of them. Odd and William were across the room, hunched over an oversized posterboard, surrounded by an accoutrement of Odd’s art supplies and printed out sheets of paper. What was keeping them up was potentially world-ending, but not in the usual way; instead of an evil AI, it was a history project due at 10 AM.

It wasn’t entirely their fault they didn’t start earlier – saving the world was a full-time job, afterall – but it’s not like they could give an excuse to Mr. Fumet that he would have believed. As the clock ticked over to 4, the prospect of having to pull the trigger on a return trip to finish loomed over them. They had already done it once, blearily uploading PowerPoint slides to the supercomputer to save them, giving Yumi an apologetic phone call in the morning. She was used to the disorienting resets at this point, having done them for half a year after graduating and moving across the country, but they usually texted ahead of time to warn her. She was sympathetic over the phone – she always was – but she was definitely irritated about having to retake an exam. They didn’t want to put her through that again and, besides, they couldn’t exactly keep the poster board from getting erased to time.

“Future-proofing the fact half of us might fail history?” Ulrich grumbled in response from across the room, leaning against the armrest of the couch. His eyes were glazed over in a stupor as he clicked idly around on the screen.

“Ulrich, are you done with your slides yet?” Aelita spat at him, now that the silent spell was broken, “I want to start stitching them together.”

“Uh… no.” Ulrich glanced at her, subtly turning his screen away from her piercing gaze, “Gimme ten more minutes? I’m almost there.”

Aelita clicked her tongue, probably remembering the last promise of the slides “in ten minutes.” She turned to her left and nudged Jeremie, “How about you – oh my god, Jeremie, can you focus?”

“Huh?” He looked up, and guiltly alt-tabbed back to a blank PowerPoint slide. “Sorry, I was just… I had a breakthrough about the bug in the Skid and I was…” He trailed off under her glare, “Sorry.”

Aelita clutched the side of her head, groaning. “Is it too late to go back to living on Lyoko where I don’t have to care about World War I and don’t need sleep?”

“Me too, thanks.” William muttered at Odd’s side, aggressively erasing a sentence on the poster, “Being XANA’s slave was less painful than this.”

He let out a bitter laugh, then raised his head, half smirk fading at the frozen-in-terror looks on his friend’s faces, “Sorry. Too soon?”

Odd, as he so often did, interrupted the awkward silence before people could make it worse, “Future-proofing us, is what I meant. Thanks for asking!” Nobody humored him as the typing across the room started back up and William started writing again, “Look, I’m just saying; we’re not getting any younger.” He brandished a red marker, filling in bubble letters on the top of the poster, “Yumi graduated. We’ve only got a semester left at Kadic –,”

“Could just all repeat a year like I did.” William grimaced. “And might again.”

Ulrich snorted, “Odd and I are probably on track for that.”

“Cheers,” William said, raising his pencil like a glass, without looking up, “Join the failure club.”

“BUT,” Odd interrupted, “Assuming we don’t! Because this presentation is going to be incredible,” That one earned a snort from everyone in the room (which was fair), “We’ll need someone who can do our jobs if we have to leave the good fight. Lyoko Warriors, the Next Generation! Kadic’s Next Top Lyoko Warriors!” He chuckled at himself, standing up, “We should put an ad in the paper: ‘Want a challenging, world-altering job? Come down to the abandoned factory!’” He hummed to himself, tapping his chin, “Our criteria would have to be strict. Can you imagine getting someone like, I dunno, Johnny? So, Johnny. Please, tell me: what’s your greatest fear? Giant crabs, you say? Why yes, that’s both oddly specific and also a dealbreaker. Next!”

Odd looked up, laughing, waiting for his friends to join in – Ulrich telling him he was being dumb, Aelita offering some other students and joking with him about their interviews, William making a snide remark about how he didn’t get an interview, a silent, but appreciative smirk from Jeremie – but got nothing. Jeremie’s head was buried in his laptop, and Aelita was – Aelita was glaring at him?

“What?” He asked her, but she said nothing, just raised an eyebrow in a you know what’s wrong look. Odd clearly didn’t, and turned to Ulrich for a clue, but Ulrich wasn’t giving him anything; he was just back to sulking, staring at his laptop. Odd ran through what he said again in his head, trying to find the offending phrase, when William punched him in the leg. “Hey –,” Odd started, ready to give a snappy retort, before seeing William was urgently tapping at the poster, where he’d just written something. Odd crouched down to read it.

you’re upsetting jeremie.

Odd glanced back at Einstein across the room, whose face was impassive, just typing away. Looking closer, though, he could see Jeremie had all the appearances of someone trying valiantly to pretend they weren’t upset – hunched shoulders, scrunched up face, not a single glance away from the screen. Aelita had stopped glaring to put a hand on Jeremie’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

Ugh. Odd sighed, wondering if he would have to apologize for just trying to lighten the mood. How was anything he said upsetting to Jeremie? He reached over for a pencil to respond to William, scribbling down on the poster.

Can’t he take a joke?

idk. Guess he thinks you’re blaming him.

Blaming him?? For what???? bro when did I even say anything like that??

you didn’t. don’t bro me bro. not my fault

Odd underlined his first bro, giving William a smile. William rolled his eyes before rubbing out their conversation with an eraser. Odd turned back to his coloring job and took a breath, surprised to see it come in shaky. It’s not your fault he’s upset, he thought to himself, pulling the cap off his marker. It’s fine. He leaned over to finish his coloring before noticing his hands were shaking. He clenched them, angrily. It wasn’t his fault Jeremie was upset. He was fine. Not his fault if Jeremie wanted to over-react. He’ll get over it and… where were the scissors?

He dug around their supplies for them, then, picking up a pile of pictures of historic figures, streaked from the bad library printer, took a pair of trembling scissors to extracting them. They were nearly done. One more section and they’d be done. One more and they could go to bed and Jeremie would get over whatever he was upset about and it was fine and it would all go away and it was fine it wasn’t his fault and –

“I’m working as hard as I can,” Odd felt a bit in his stomach open up as Jeremie spoke in a quiet, bitter voice. Odd stared pointedly down at the poster, blinking rapidly to try and assuage the pressure building behind his eyes, “I know we screwed up by not finishing before Yumi graduated, okay? I’m just… It’s a lot to figure out and I’m trying?! Is that not enough for – No. No, I know it’s not enough – I know I’m keeping us from having a normal life and it’s my fault William had to repeat a year and… and I –,” Jeremie’s breath caught, and Odd finally dared to turn his eyes to him, seeing his friend aggressively rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I – I don’t mean to – look! It’s hard, alright?! It’s hard and I – I’m just so tired all the time and I’m sorry that we’re still awake for this too and that I –,” His voice finally broke as he started crying in earnest, his fist coming down on the side of the couch. Odd wanted to turn back to his work and brush it off, but the guilt clenching his stomach wasn’t letting go.

Hesitantly, Aelita put her hand on his shoulder again, “Jeremie…” but he shook it off again, turning away from her. She persisted. “It’s not your fault. We know you’re working –,”

“And it’s not enough! I’ve been working at this for years and I just I can’t come up with anything to defeat XANA –,”

“You had a lot of other things you needed to do first.”

He didn’t mean to, Odd was sure, but Ulrich’s eyes flickered to William for just a moment, and William’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, are we doing this now?” William grumbled, dropping his pencil. “Jeremie, you’re fine. Look, I’m sorry. Again. You don’t think I don’t regret every moment that I didn’t listen like a fucking idiot –” Jeremie, despite being wracked with tears, winced at the swear, earning a brief hint of a smile from Odd, “ – and got myself captured? Who then was a thorn in your asses for months? No. I get it. You’d probably be rid of XANA already if it wasn’t for me; you’ve made that crystal clear.”

“That’s not what I –,” Aelita glared at him, “You of all people should understand that I would never blame you for being trapped on Lyoko.”

“It’s not you that is. It’s him.” He jerked his thumb at Ulrich, who glared back at him.

“I’m not,” Ulrich muttered, “Cut it out.”

“Oh yeah? What did that look mean then, huh?”

“I didn’t –,”

“You blame me, and we all know it. You’re just butt-hurt over Yumi still, even though you had plenty of chances –,”

“Okay, that’s it.” Ulrich sat up straighter, “Maybe you’re still using Yumi as a scapegoat in all our arguments, but I’m done with that. Maybe I was an ass to you before because of her, but I don’t blame you for XANA, William. I never have. I was over it before you even joined,” He scowled at the ground, Jeremie’s crying filling the brief silence. “It was probably my fault you got captured in the first place. I wasn’t there because I had to talk to my stupid Dad and it was my job to tell Odd and I didn’t make sure – hell, even before that! Who was it that couldn’t protect Aelita back when XANA escaped from the supercomputer in the first place? If she hadn’t been alone, the Scyphozoa wouldn’t have gotten her, and XANA wouldn’t have escaped, and we would have been done.”

“Come on,” Aelita crossed her arms, turning away from Jeremie to the boy on her other side, “You’re being ridiculous. Half of that isn’t your fault.”

Odd wanted to chime in that it was Sam’s fault she didn’t listen to Ulrich, but his voice was still missing in action, his throat tight and unresponsive.

“I should have been able to protect myself,” Aelita continued, “It wasn’t your responsibility –,”

Jeremie laughed suddenly, hurt and bitter, “Protect yourself how? You couldn’t protect yourself because I was dragging my feet on giving you a proper weapon –,”

“We’ve talked about this!” She said, “We agreed it was more worth your time to work on an antivirus!”

“For a virus that didn’t exist! If I had just double checked –,”

“Double checked what? The faulty data you were being fed? There was nothing you could have done! If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Maybe it – maybe helping me made sense at first, when things were able to be stopped at a moment’s notice. But then even when you got me to Earth it wasn’t over, and things got worse, things got more dangerous – when we realized XANA could escape? That we couldn’t just turn it off with a switch? That – that should have been it.” Her voice dropped as she took a shaky breath, “You should have just let me turn the supercomputer off.”

“You were ALWAYS worth the risk, Aelita!” Odd finally snapped, terror shooting through his heart at the broken look on her face, the implications of her words, “You… you matter to us more than anything! Look, I’m sorry for bringing this all up, alright? I thought we could just joke around about running Lyoko Warrior interviews! I didn’t mean to get everyone upset. And speaking of! Jeez! All of you are such downers on yourselves! There’s like, a billion different things that could have happened!” He held out a hand, ticking them off, “Maybe William might not have gotten captured and instead XANA got Yumi or anyone else! Maybe, I dunno, Ulrich saved Aelita temporarily but then XANA tossed him in the digital sea! Maybe Jeremie could have noticed that Aelita didn’t have a virus sooner, and XANA just made a move sooner! Maybe – maybe – maybe if you had just let Kiwi be virtualized normally and not fuse with me he would have been a great Lyoko Warrior and would have bit the Scyphozoa and killed XANA! We don’t know, alright? I’m just trying to say that – ugh, forget it! Sorry! Jeez!”

Odd rubbed at his eyes, surrendering to the frustrated and exhausted stream of tears that leaked out of them. All of them, all of this – he kept trying to play superhero, to pretend that everything was going to be alright like in the movies, but in his heart he had to admit that this was starting to feel futile. Aelita’s virus, XANA’s escape from the supercomputer, William’s capture, Jeremie’s first botched attempt at his anti-XANA program, Franz Hopper’s sacrifice, Yumi’s graduation, their failure to stop space station from falling, Jeremie’s second anti-XANA program getting stolen by the AI, and now the looming threat of their own graduation… he wanted to be joking about needing to interview new Lyoko Warriors, really, but if graduation took them away from the factory… away from each other…

A hand landed on his shoulder, he realized he didn’t need to know who it was to press his own on top of it, to squeeze it and feel loved, as more hands, more friends, found their way to his other shoulder, to his back.

“I’m sorry, Jeremie,” he said, “And everyone else. I didn’t mean to –,”

“Don’t,” came a muttered reply from Jeremie, “We’re all acting tired and stupid. I shouldn’t have yelled. I knew you didn’t mean it.”

Odd let out an exhausted laugh, rubbing his eyes of the last of the tears, looking up and seeing his friends around him, “How late is it?”

“Too late,” Ulrich replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “We’ve got… three hours until classes start.”

A collective groan broke the spell over the room. Odd looked under his feet to the almost-finished-poster. Silently, all of them returned to their working positions. Odd kneeled down to finish gluing down the last of the faces to the poster. As the lull of busy work started taking over his mind, William nudged him.

“Sorry, I, uh…” William looked uncharacteristically bewildered, “This must have happened while I was – did you say Kiwi fused with you?”

#i am well aware that it is long past day one LOL #we'll see what else i get to #my intent going into this was to write exactly what odd wanted to joke about but then i realized that was kinda fucked up #codejuly #codejuly21 #code lyoko #i swear ill write fluff next i promise #mary blabs

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lisbonsteresa · 3 years

Text

You’re Once (In Any Lifetime)

🥳 🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY( @eddiediaz)!!!! 🥳 🥳 (little late is better than never fingers crossed. a little something for my drew crew bestie who i have never yelled at, cajoled into watching a show, or threatened with a knife emoji. hope you like the...kind of au of the au of the - let’s just call it the 7th generation of an au 😘)

___

“She’s lingering again.”

“Call a spade a spade Bess.” George grumbled as she entered the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes. “At this point she’s loitering.”

Nick glanced up from where he was reviewing that month’s order form at the prep table with a slight grin. “Don’t know if you can go that far. I mean she did pay for her dinner.”

“Oh please,” George shot back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s been 45 minutes since she paid her bill and she’s still nursing that iced tea like it’s a long island.” As if she knew they were talking about her, the redhead in the corner booth looked up from her glass and gave a small, unsure smile across the sparsely-seated dining room in their direction. She did not receive any in response.

“What I don’t understand is why she keeps coming here, of all places. I mean it’s not like our food is good.” An offended grunt came from Bess’s right, and she spun around to see the Claw’s cook pressing a burger to the grill with a wounded expression.

“Oh no, Charlie,” she backtracked frantically, hands held out in a feeble attempt to placate the older man. “I just meant compared to what they must have at the yacht club.”

Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug, apparently forgiving the unintended slight before moving down the line where he hopefully missed Bess’s whispered “Or anywhere else…”

“Guys, come on.” Ace cut in, voice calm and measured even as he scrubbed determinedly at a rusting lobster pot. “It’s not like we don’t have other customers keeping us here. What’s so bad about Nancy lingering a bit?”

“The fact that she’s not just ‘Nancy’, Ace.” George admonished as she tipped her dishes into the full sink in front of him, raising the water level until it sloshed dangerously close to the edge. “She’s Nancy Hudson. You know how the hill-toppers treat us townies -”

“When they’re not wheeling and dealing in back rooms to screw us over while they’re sitting pretty in their ivory towers.” Nick interrupted, his attention still on the sheet in front of him.

“Exactly.” George gave her boyfriend an appreciative look as she leaned up against the prep table next to him. “And now what, I’m supposed to be happy that one of them deigned to grace us with her presence?”

“Yes, and I had to take her hill-topper order.” Bess lamented, pouting near the line window until she noticed Nick looking at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“You know you’re a hill-topper, right Bess?”

She turned towards him, her expression scandalized and defensive. “That is completely different, Mr. Multimillionaire.” (Nick held his hands up in amused defeat). “I only just became a Marvin; I wasn’t born and raised a hill-topper, unlike some people.”

“Besides,” she glanced back across the dining room with an insulted wrinkle of her nose, “the Hudsons and Marvins are long-standing enemies; it was humiliating to have to serve one of them.”

“The Hudsons and Marvins, maybe, but not you and Nancy.” Ace countered, leaning the lobster pot against the back of the drying rack before reaching into the increasingly murky water to start on George’s dishes. “You two barely know each other.”

Bess paused, playing with her necklace and staring into space as if considering this fact for the first time. “Well, I guess that’s true…"

“And she’s been spending her gap year here in town volunteering and helping Hannah Gruen set up a scholarship with the Historical Society.” Ace continued with a glance over his shoulder at Nick.

“I mean, that’s great, but -” Nick stopped, eyes narrowing “wait, how do you know that?”

Ace’s hands paused their motions, just for a fraction of a second, before he resumed rinsing a plate and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Must’ve seen it in the paper somewhere.” He muttered offhandedly. “And -”

“And nothing.” George cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest with a scowl. “A few good deeds don’t change the fact that this time next year she’ll be 300 miles away with a full ride to some Ivy League school just because of her last name, and the rest of us will still be stuck here cleaning grease traps in an old clam shack.” Ace’s shoulders tensed more and more with every word that left her mouth. “And since when did you start defending Hudsons anyway?”

“I’m not defending the Hudsons, I’m defending Na-” Ace spun around to face the room and froze, realizing that his raised voice had turned three sets of interested eyes in his direction. (Well, four, if you counted Charlie.) “I’m not defending anybody.” he continued after a beat. “I’m just saying you can’t help who your family is, and at least she’s trying to be better than hers. It wouldn’t kill you guys to try and see that.”

No one said anything - this was the most upset any of them had seen Ace get since the time that nor'easter put a tree branch through Florence’s windshield. “Anyway, dishes are done; I’m gonna take my break.”

He tossed the towel that had been slung over his shoulder down onto the counter and stomped down the steps towards the storeroom. The back door slammed shut a moment later, and the others turned back towards the dining room to see that Nancy had at last abandoned her iced tea and was heading towards the exit with the air of someone in a rush trying very hard to appear relaxed.

“So…” Bess began, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nancy’s booth and the door. “when do we tell him we saw them making out by the loading dock last Thursday?”

“I say we make him sweat for a bit.” George said with a shrug as she straightened and headed out to clear the table. “Serves him right for thinking he could keep something like this from us.” Bess and Nick shared an amused smile behind her, then got back to their own work.

If any of them noticed that Ace arrived back from his break 20 minutes late with his hair in disarray, they kept it to themselves.

_____

“Great. I’m going to be picking seaweed out of my hair for a week. Thanks a lot Bess.”

Bess paused her efforts to wring out her dress to shoot an incredulous look in George’s direction. “I’m sorry, how is this my fault!?”

“It’s my birthday George!” Came the response in a mocking imitation of the Brit’s accent. “Just close for inventory George! It’ll be fun George!”

“Well excuse me for trying to enjoy a nice beach day!” Bess shot back. “How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked by that kelkey-whatever??”

“Kelpie.” Nick corrected, stopping the bickering for a moment while all three turned their attention towards the redhead kneeling in the sand and frantically running her hands over a soaking wet and slightly dazed Ace. “That’s what you called it, right?”

The second Nancy realized she was being addressed, her hands dropped from Ace’s body like they had been burned. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a kelpie. They’re Scottish horse spirits that drag their victims underwater and devour them. That silver necklace Bess had was its bridle, and -” she paused, looking around to see the others staring blankly at her.

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded almost sheepish. “I volunteer over at the historical society a lot, and there’s some…interesting stuff in their archives.” Another moment passed. No one’s expression changed.

“…Anyway the bridle can be used to control it, so I think it attacked you to try and get it back. And since you didn’t know what it was, it just seemed easier to grab it and toss it then try and explain why it was making the giant horse spirit angry.” She finished with a weak grin, as if she’d been explaining the weather and not the most terrifying thing most of them had ever seen.

No one spoke for a while longer, and then Bess’s quiet “Oh.” broke the silence. “Well…okay. For a second I thought you just really didn’t like my necklace.”

The tension broken, the others looked at her with varying levels of amusement before she let out a gasp and turned to address Nancy directly. “Wait my cousin Cassidy gave me that last night! You don’t think…”

“I don’t think she knew what it was.” Nancy replied with an almost fond smile. “When the historical society got the request to put the necklace in one its deposit boxes, the record just said it was a Marvin family heirloom; brought over aboard the Governance.”

“And the kelpie followed it all the way here?” Nick asked, eying Nancy sideways as he tried to shake water out of his ear.

She shrugged. “There are some records that say kelpies are bound to follow their bridles, wherever they go. They can’t leave the water though, so it could have gotten into the bay and then…gotten lost, I guess.” Bess was already nodding along as if everything Nancy was saying made perfect sense. “We didn’t realize the necklace was anything out of the ordinary until Cassidy came to request it and Hannah thought she recognized it from her research.”

“Well good thing she did, or this might’ve been Bess’s last birthday.” George smirked. “Never thought I’d say this,” she continued, ignoring her friend’s offended huff and turning towards Nancy, “but I’m glad you were around, Hudson.”

“Thanks.” Nancy sounded like she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted by the statement. “I was looking for you guys, actually. When we realized what the necklace was, we called Cassidy and she said she’d given it to you for your birthday, and since you were coming to the beach Hannah and I were worried that getting it too close to the water might -”

“Wait, how did you know we’d be at the beach?” Bess interrupted.

Nancy stilled, her eyes darting over to a still-groggy Ace then back to the others so quickly that they might have missed it had they not been watching her so closely. “I must have overheard it the last time I was at the Claw.” Her voice was measured; almost deliberately calm. “When it’s slow there your voices tend to carry.”

Bess and Nick gave each other an uneasy sidelong glance at Nancy’s implication, while George’s expression grew into something approaching begrudging respect. “Anyway,” Nancy stood, brushing sand off her pants and looking anywhere but in Ace’s direction, “I should get back to Hannah and let her know everything’s okay. See you around.”

She turned and started heading towards the parking lot, and Ace watched with worried eyes as his friends had a rapid fire non-verbal conversation. Bess nodded towards Nick, who responded with a shrug. They both looked over at Ace with small smiles, then turned to George; Nick with one eyebrow raised in question and Bess with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. George glanced at Ace before letting out a labored sigh and rolling her eyes as she called down the beach: “Hey Hudson!”

Nancy turned, hands twisting in the strap of the messenger bag. “You wanna meet us at the Claw after we get cleaned up?” George asked. “We’re closed for inventory - it’d be a good place to talk about all…this.” (Bess cleared her throat pointedly.) “And we have cake for Bess’s birthday.”

The smile that bloomed on Nancy’s face was beaming, even at a distance. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

______

It had been three weeks since the kelpie incident, and for all intents and purposes, Nancy had settled in as the fifth member of their little group. She and Bess had gotten along almost immediately, despite some awkward encounters when they had run into family while together.

Nick had warmed to her considerably once she started helping him with his plans for a youth center in town. (It certainly hadn’t hurt that she’d ‘misplaced’ her grandfather’s application for the building on Spring St. until Nick’s bid had already closed).

And while George and Nancy bickered almost constantly, they (usually) did it with smiles on their faces. If asked, they might not call each other ‘friends’, but they were definitely heading in a good direction.

The first Friday afternoon of July found them sprawled out across the dining table of Nick’s loft, brainstorming ideas for that year’s ‘Still Summer at the Bayside Claw’ event. (Or rather found most of them. Truth be told, Bess’s focus might have been more on her online shopping.) They’d been working for an hour or so when a noise like the rapid honking of a clown nose suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“Shit,” Ace muttered, grabbing his phone and snoozing the alarm, “I’m going to be late for Shabbat.” He gathered his things in a rush, exchanged a quick “Bye” and kiss with Nancy, then froze.

His eyes moved rapidly between the others - Nancy’s wide-eyed panic; George’s look of shock and disgust; Nick’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead; Bess’s almost giddy expression - before seeming to make a decision.

“Uh…Nick,” he croaked out before anyone could react any further, making his way over to where his friend was sitting with an air of forced normalcy and kissing him like it was something he did every day. “thank you for having me.”

“See you tomorrow, Bess.” He continued, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek, causing a giggle to escape her barely-maintained composure.

He turned towards the other end of the table, eying George the way an antelope might eye a lion. “George -”

“Don’t even think about it.” She cut him off with a glare.

“Right. ‘Course.” He glanced around the room one last time as he backed towards the door, eyes skipping over Nancy as if he was afraid of what his expression might reveal if he focused at all on her. “Um, have a good night everyone.” And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as his rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A minute passed in complete silence, then another.

Nick looked absolutely mystified, his fingers stuck halfway to his lips like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. George’s grimace was slowly turning into an amused smirk, and Bess looked seconds away from breaking into complete hysterics.

Another minute passed before Nancy, staring at the table with a face almost as red as her hair, broke the silence. “So…how long have you guys known?”

“Since before the kelpie incident.” George answered bluntly, while Nick shook off his daze and turned his attention towards Nancy and Bess took a calming breath and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Oh.”

Nancy’s eyes darted between the table and the door as if trying to decide if it would be worse to try and explain herself or just cut her losses and run. “Ok, well, we were going to tell you, we just -”

“You can relax Nancy.” Nick cut in, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, but finally turned to see an understanding smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be here right now if any of us still had a problem with you.”

Bess nodded rapidly, reaching across the table to cover one of Nancy’s hands with her own. “You make Ace happy, and that’s what really matters to us."

A wobbly smile began to grow on Nancy’s face, before she blinked and turned towards George with apprehension and a bit of challenge in her eyes.

George’s expression stayed firm until Nick cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the grin she gave Nancy was genuine.“Plus I guess you’re not horrible.”

That pulled a laugh from Nancy, even as she blinked back touched tears she knew George would make fun of. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate that.”

(To say Ace was confused when she walked into the Claw the next morning and kissed him in the middle of the dining room would be an understatement, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.)

#(also please don't judge me i did like .5 seconds of research on kelpies on wikipedia and manipulated that information to suit my needs)#anyway hope you had a wonderful birthday weekend; hope this year will make you happier (and clownier [honk honk]) than any before it #💕💕💕💕💕#nancy drew cw #ndff

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shini--chan · 3 years

Note

OKAY IMAGINE THIS - by some mirracle, s/o get teleported back in time to the pirate era and suddenly just drops from the sky as Antonio and Arthur are battling! Everything comes to a halt because a friggin woman fell from literally nowhere - Arthur is quicker and he captures s/o first, DEMANDING to know where she is from, how did she get here. Poor s/o tries to tell him the truth but it just isn't working. How stupid do you think Arthur is, huh?! He's not buying what you're selling love! (1/?)

Oh blazes, my dear. You’re trying to seduce me into writing a novel for you, correct. Well, not today (sadly) so I’ll be going ahead with my usual mixture of headcanons and snippets. Also, to everybody out there: Requests are still being accepted – I just can’t bring myself to close my ask box.

Also, I wanted to write Arthur’s and Antonio’s lines in an older English, but then I remembered what it was like having to read books from the 19th century for school and decided not to inflict the torture upon you.

Yandere Love Triangle: England vs Spain (Historical Pirate AU!)

As mentioned in the ask, you would be minding your own business, more or less, when you would suddenly be granted two of the wishes many harbour in their hearts: to time travel and have an adventure. Unfortunately for you, that wouldn’t happen with a forewarning and you wouldn’t have any chance to blend in. I wouldn’t say the battle would completely stop – with all the smoke and gunpowder and bangs going on only those close by would have a chance noticing.

Antonio was having a wonderful day. Yes, extremely wonderful. Life on the ship had been very good as of late, supplies running high and spirits even higher. They were reaching their climax now, with Spain showing England the business ends of sword and cutlas and cannon. It was a fitting sort of revenge being able to rob the lilly-livered bastard after he had stolen so much Spanish silver and gold.

The runt in question was baring his teeth and snarling like a cornered dog while their blades were interlocked, when Antonio heard a loud crash from behind England. It was probably just part of the ruckus of a sea battle, yet something – his fantastic intuition most likely – advised him to take a look. Of course, making the other combatant to move just how he wanted proved to be tricky, because Arthur had always been an uncooperative like blight and liked to fight dirty.

Yet he wasn’t a famed duellist for nothing. The sight that caught his attention when he got the opportunity to see it nearly caused him to lose an arm due to inattention. Men of both sides had briefly abandoned the battle to crowd around a failing figure that was desperately trying to free itself from a tangle of nets and torn sails. The onlookers whispered amongst themselves. The chorus of voices only grew louder when a very confused woman.

He found himself remarking: “It seems like you’ve finally started to develop a good taste in bed mates. Say, when did that happen, fishy. I always thought that you’d have luck to get a starved old tramp to warm your bed.”

“Shut up, Anthony!”, came the immediate reply, proving that the island nation wasn’t aware about what he was playing at. “Let’s not get on about you. Or should I tell your precious monarch about what you do in the stables when all the servants are gone?”

Pathetic little weasel. Enraged, Antonio brought the hilt of his sword down on that pale, cruel face and busted a pair of thin lips. “You should guard yourself from spreading lies, English pigdog. Or else the Almighty himself will smite you.”

Naturally, being the cunning demon he was, England used the opening Spain had provided him to barrel into him and send him flying overboard and into the sea.

That action would be quick to turn the tides, especially with so many men coming to aid their captain and help him out of water. This would result in Arthur then discovering you on his ship, probably when his first mate would rush to him and explain that a very strange women in a strange get-up had just suddenly appeared on the ship.

England would go and investigate and discover you surrounded by his crew, each of them having different responses to your presence and hence causing quite a commotion. He too would find you utterly alien – in your attire, in your mannerisms, even in your speech. But Arthur would be ever the pragmatic and reason that there would have to be another explanation to your appearance, one that doesn’t include miracles. But because he wouldn’t have either the time or the head space to deal with you at the moment, he’d have to thrown in the brig with strict orders to leave you alone. That would also be a way for him to torture you and force you to wallow in your worries and terrors.

The brackish water of the brig had long since made your feet wet, cotton soaks completely soaked through and chilling you. The stench it all emitted, and Arthur’s relentless questioning only further enhanced your discomfort.

He was prowling in front of your cage-like cell, like a tiger in the zoo. Only that he didn’t want to break out, rather that he was being continuously tempted to drag you out of your cell and onto the deck to be flogged for your insolence.

“At every turn you say to me that you’re from the future and that you don’t know how you came here”, he rehearsed the main points of your conversation with him. There had been a snarl on his face the whole time throughout the interrogation, his anger only making his voice curl tightly around the vowels and roll the r’s harder until you had to strain to understand him.

Mutely you nodded – you yourself had come to the conclusion that he understood you better when you kept your words simply, underlay them with gestures and expressions and spoke slowly.

In return, England shook his head and spat: “I do not believe you. Going backwards in time is impossible, it only goes forward.”

In any other situation you would have been inclined to agree with him. But you were living proof that there were glaring exceptions to that rule. Having unexpectedly landed in a long-gone era, you had first found yourself desperately grappling with your new reality. You had pinched yourself and read the letters on crates and barrel and closed your eyes and read them again to see if anything had changed – everything to assure yourself that you were dreaming.

You weren’t, nor had you taken any psychedelics, so this was painfully, gruesomely real. A fact that Arthur wasn’t excepting even with evidence right past the tip of his nose.

“Then how do you explain the ripped sails then? How do you explain my strange clothes?”, you questioned him. Then, after a brief pause, you asked: “How do you explain that I know who and what you are?”

You knowing that he was a personification of a budding Empire was a sore spot for him and made him even more suspicious of you. Something that was now backfiring on you.

He waved your words off with evident irritation and countered: “There are more reasonable explanation for all of that. That you’re a spy from a foreign country for example.”

Arthur would never cease with side-eying you and constantly be on the look-out for more logical explanations for your otherness. He would find them as well. Yet there would always be a little voice in the forefront of his mind nagging him that you are telling the truth and that he was wasting the opportunity of the millennia by blowing your words in the wind.

Those doubts would be the main reason he would keep you alive, along with his quest to extract the “truth” from you. However, there would be times when he would be tempted to fetch those thumbscrews from his quarters to see if you’d crack under pressure. Yet he would still restrain himself.

That wouldn’t mean your stay on his ship would be pleasant. You’d constantly be wet and cold, with rats crawling around the brig and your meals being a near inedible gruel that would be set aside for you.

Therefore, it would be an absolute relief when Spain would swoop in to rescue you. It would be an even greater wonder when he would actually listen to you and take into consideration what you would say.

“Tell me if I’ve got this right: In the future, you don’t send letters anymore that take months to reach another country. Instead, you send messages from small machines which the other person can read only after a few seconds, no matter how far away they are”, Antonio summed up what you had just cautiously explained to him.

You had been so shy when he had taken you aboard his vessel, so afraid he would just maltreat you like Arthur had. It had taken its time for him to convey that he was different from that godless brute, that he was civilized and patient. He wouldn’t disregard miracles and let them slip through his fingers. It had taken its own sweet time to coax you into telling the truth, but now you were sitting across him in his quarters, nodding enthusiastically.

“More or less, yes. There is a lot more to that, but that is the start of it”, you affirmed his words. You were relieved that you finally had somebody to talk to in this time were you previously had nobody. The food being served helped you weigh yourself into safety – fresh fruit and other perishable treats, an absolute luxury onboard a ship with a sizable crew. Indeed, you were becoming so comfortable with your host, your lifeline at this point, that you were betraying things about your future that you otherwise wouldn’t have.

And wasn’t yet about detail concretely concerning him, but you would both get there eventually. Spain was sure of that.

Meanwhile you didn’t notice the hungry gleam in his eyes when he purred: “Fascinating, my dear. What else can these things do?”

Being a Catholic, Antonio would be far more inclined to believe you on the time-traveling thing. He would also add two and two together on your strange clothes and their material, not to mention your different attitudes and behaviours and realise that you would be telling the truth. He would treat you kindly as a way of getting you to talk to him, eventually becoming the only person you could trust.

He would guard you jealously and ensure that you would only speak to him – having knowledge of the future would be a right he would reserve for himself alone. It would also cause him to become obsessed with you, keeping you in his quarters or leading you onto the deck at night for short walk. Of course, he would paint the whole isolating thing as he keeping you safe, saying that Arthur was after you.

The argument with Arthur would have far more validity then Antonio would even imagine. The wisdom that you don’t know what you really have until you lose it would be especially true in his case. It would finally dawn upon him that you were telling the truth the whole time and that would lead Arthur to beat himself up over it. A pursuit to recapture you would ensue.

Not to mention that it would make his blood boil to think that Spain would be courting you, persuading you to tell him everything he could ever want to know about the future. Besides being a threat to his future existence and ongoing success, England would like to have all that knowledge himself and for himself only. Knowledge is power, after all.

Arthur would also miss you for your wit and endurance, fantasizing and dreaming of you to the point of obsession and never quitting his chase for you.

#yandere spain #yandere england #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere hetalia #x reader

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kjack89 · 3 years

Text

1B+

Man, I don’t even know. Established E/R, modern AU. CW for COVID and vaccine discussions.

“It’s redlining!”

Enjolras’s raised voice was the first thing anyone heard as soon as they got on the weekly Zoom call, and Combeferre winced, reaching to turn down the volume on his laptop. The chat was already blowing up with everyone asking everyone else – besides Enjolras and Grantaire, for obvious reasons – what was the source of the argument this week.

Combeferre sent various versions of ‘I have no idea’ to everyone as Enjolras and Grantaire glared at each other through their respective computer screens. “I understand that,” Grantaire started, sounding angrier than usual, since he had a tendency to sound like he was enjoying his weekly arguments with Enjolras, “but I don’t think—”

“Look at the zip code map for the city,” Enjolras interrupted, also unusually angry, as Combeferre suspected (but would never, ever vocalize) that he also enjoyed his verbal spars with Grantaire. “It matches up almost exactly with historical redlining!”

“And I’m not denying that,” Grantaire snapped. “But that doesn’t mean—”

Marius had the misfortune of logging on right then, and had the even greater misfortune of not knowing immediately that he stepped right into the middle of a fight as he cheerfully said, “How’s everyone’s day going?” He broke off as he apparently spotted the desperate hand gestures that Courfeyrac was making. “Oh, um, sorry. Did I interrupt?”

“No,” Grantaire said stiffly. “We’re done here.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes but didn’t appear to want to argue further, and Combeferre waited for a beat before unmuting himself. “Do either of you want to catch us up to speed?” he asked carefully.

Grantaire shook his head as he stood, disappearing from his camera’s view, and Enjolras scowled. “We’re talking about the vaccine,” he said, a little sourly, hesitating before adding, “Grantaire got vaccinated today.”

Courfeyrac whooped. “R, you got your Fauci ouchie?” he asked, delighted.

“Which did you get?” Joly asked, more curious than elated. “Moderna? Pfizer? Johnson & Johnson?”

Bossuet nudged him. “Does it matter?” he asked, sounding amused.

“No, of course not, and I’ll take whatever they want to stick in me—”

“Yeah you will,” Courfeyrac snickered.

“—but I’m keeping track of anecdotal data about reactions to the various vaccines,” Joly continued, giving Courfeyrac the finger.

“It was the Pfizer vaccine, but I think you’re all missing the broader point,” Enjolras said stiffly.

Grantaire reappeared on screen, a drink in hand. “Pretty sure the only one missing the point is you,” he said. “And Joly, before you ask, thus far the only negative reaction I’ve had is from Enjolras.”

Joly frowned. “That’s not what—”

“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m less than ecstatic that you, a white man who lives in one of the most affluent zip codes in our city, was able to get vaccinated, while vaccine rates in low income and majority minority zips remain among the lowest in the nation,” Enjolras snapped, the impetus of his argument with Grantaire finally becoming clear for everyone else on the Zoom call. “Forgive me for not celebrating that Black and brown folks remain disproportionately at risk while you get to go back to wasting your life drinking in bars until all hours of the night.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes so hard that Combeferre was half-afraid he’d pulled a muscle. “Right, because I forgot, in addition to apparently being an alcoholic, I’m also so incredibly selfish that I would put low income workers at risk just so that I can sit by myself indoors at a bar during a pandemic.”

“Hey, not by yourself,” Bahorel interjected with the sort of threatening cheerfulness he used when he was aggressively trying to change the topic. “Don’t forget, Feuilly got poked a few weeks ago, so he could join you.”

Feuilly looked very much like he wanted to be left out of the conversation entirely. “Ah, yes, the perks of being essential to keeping capitalism running,” he muttered.

But Bahorel’s attempt at humor had seemingly only made Enjolras angrier. “Yes, Feuilly got his vaccine because he’s essential,” he said icily. “Not to mention because he’s been risking his life for over a year now while the rest of us got to stay home.”

“Not to pull a Taylor Swift but I would really like to be excluded from this narrative,” Feuilly said.

Enjolras and Grantaire both ignored him. “I’m sorry that I can’t be as ideal as Feuilly,” Grantaire all but spat, “but me taking the vaccine because I’m eligible and was able to has exactly zero impact on the failures of equitable rollout.”

“Right, one less vaccine going to someone who actually needs it has no impact on anything,” Enjolras shot back. “Of course, I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s not like you’ve ever been willing to sacrifice anything for someone else.”

There was a sudden intake of breath from the collective group at that, and even Enjolras looked a little shamefaced. Grantaire’s expression was stony. “You really want to talk about sacrifice?” he asked quietly. “After everything this past year?”

Enjolras winced. “I didn’t mean—”

“Because while you were working at home this past year, some of us lost our jobs.” Grantaire’s voice was sharp. “And some of us have since stepped up to more or less become the primary caretaker for someone who’s too fucking stubborn to get the damn vaccine for himself, even though he’s also eligible!” Enjolras looked like he wanted to refute at least part of that, but Grantaire didn’t give him a chance. “But you know what? I’m done with that now. You can get your own damn groceries, even though you don’t have a car and refuse to use instacart. Or you can have takeout delivered without using third party delivery apps. Hell, you can figure out how to get anything delivered to you without using Amazon! I’m sure you and your moral superiority and your goddamned heart defect will have a gay ol’ time waiting for some arbitrary measure of equity.”

With that, he left the Zoom, leaving absolute silence in his wake. Enjolras looked too stunned to talk, so Combeferre took over. “Alright, everyone,” he said, “let’s take a quick break. I’ll send a text when we’re ready to get back online.” Everyone else quickly left, most likely relieved to not have to sit there in the awkward silence. Combeferre cleared his throat. “Enjolras?” he asked.

Enjolras blinked. “What?”

“Are you ok?”

“Fine.”

Combeferre frowned. “I mean, with what Grantaire said…”

Enjolras suddenly seemed very engaged with scrolling through his phone and not making eye contact with Combeferre. “You know Grantaire as well as I do,” he said dismissively. “He’s a drama queen.”

“Sure, and known to exaggerate. But not generally to outright lie.” Enjolras made a face but didn’t argue and Combeferre sighed. “Look, you’re not obligated to share any personal medical information—”

“Tell that to Grantaire,” Enjolras muttered.

“—but if there is something you want to tell us about…”

He trailed off and Enjolras sighed. “It’s really nothing,” he said grudgingly. “I have a small, congenital heart defect. “

Combeferre’s eyes narrowed. “How small?”

“Just, a tiny little hole. In the wall of my heart.”

“Atrial septal defect?” Combeferre asked sharply.

Enjolras snorted a laugh. “You’re a freak, you know that, right?” he asked good-naturedly. “Yes, an atrial septal defect. So I’m at slightly higher risk for COVID complications than the average adult.” He made a face. “And because Grantaire knows about it, he’s been absolutely insufferable.”

Combeferre nodded slowly. “Dare I ask how it is that Grantaire knows about this when you and I have been friends for years and this is the first I’m hearing of it?”

Enjolras squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, I sort of told him about it. But in my defense, I wasn’t exactly anticipating a pandemic at the time.”

“What were you anticipating?

Enjolras looked even more uncomfortable. “Um, more sex?”

Combeferre blinked. “I’m honestly afraid to ask.”

Enjolras rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not even a good story,” he mumbled. “It was back when we first got together…”

----------

Enjolras and Grantaire lay in silence next to each other, both of their chests still heaving. Grantaire was the first to break the silence, glancing over at him. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh,” Grantaire said skeptically, propping himself up on his elbow. “I can always tell when you’re thinking. You get that wrinkle between your eyebrows.”

Enjolras scowled, reaching up to rub his forehead. “Playing to my vanity?” he asked.

Grantaire grinned, brushing Enjolras’s hand aside and leaning in to kiss Enjolras’s forehead. “I’ll take whatever advantage I can get,” he said. “So what are you thinking about? Other than the best orgasm of your life, courtesy of me?”

“In fairness, the bar for that was pretty low,” Enjolras said, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth before it faded. “Just...shouldn’t we talk about this? About what we’re doing here?”

Making a face, Grantaire flopped over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. “Normally I require at least a half hour after sex before we do the ‘what are we’ conversation,” he said, his voice muffled before he turned his head to look over at Enjolras. “It’s like how you’re not supposed to swim for a half hour after you eat.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an old wives tale.”

Grantaire shifted in what might have been an attempt at a shrug. “Maybe, but I’m not willing to take that risk.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and sat up. “Fine, then what do you want to talk about?”

“Who says we need to talk about anything?”

“Isn’t that normally what you do after having sex with someone?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire smirked. “I mean, I’m hardly an expert but normally around this time I’m fishing around for my boxers so I can do the walk of shame home.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “Keep it up and you will be.”

Grantaire laughed. “Look, this isn’t exactly normal for either of us. I mean, at least I don’t have to worry about forgetting your name, so that’s a step up.”

“You are, as always, classy.”

Enjolras made as if to stand up but Grantaire reached out and caught his hand, keeping him in place. “Well, I mean, c’mon, we’ve known each other for years. This isn’t like a regular hookup. I don’t have to pretend to care about learning what you do for a living or what familial issues you brought with you into adulthood, mainly because I already know.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “You think you know everything about me?”

“I know I know everything about you,” Grantaire said, a little smugly. “I mean, besides your social security number and family medical history, but we can save those for the second date.”

“I don’t know, I think my congenital heart defect makes for fascinating post-coital conversation,” Enjolras said with a grin. But Grantaire just stared at him, eyes wide, and his smile disappeared. “I was kidding.”

“So you don’t have a heart defect?”

Grantaire’s voice was even but Enjolras winced. “Well, I didn’t say that.”

“What’s wrong with your heart?” Grantaire asked quietly.

“A great many things, as I’m sure any of my few exes could attest,” Enjolras joked, but when Grantaire’s expression didn’t change, he sighed and elaborated, “I was born with a small hole in the wall of my heart. It’s called an atrial septal defect. Quite possibly caused by the cocaine habit my mother likes to pretend she didn’t have in the 80s.”

Grantaire didn’t laugh. “Is it serious?”

“No. Not really.” Enjolras shrugged. “I’m at higher risk for some heart and lung complications, but mostly it’s just something for my cardiologist to keep an eye on.”

For one long moment, Grantaire was silent, as if he was struggling with something to say. Then he managed a small smile of his own. “Well, at least it’s proof that you have a heart,” he said lightly.

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “An Iron Man reference? Really?”

“Of course, I forgot that you hate the MCU.”

Enjolras made a face. “That’s a bit of a stretch. But Tony Stark is a war criminal so I’m not exactly thrilled with the comparison.”

Grantaire laughed. “Fair enough,” he said.

“Besides,” Enjolras said, his smirk returning as he moved closer to Grantaire, “wasn’t this enough proof that I have a heart?”

“Mm,” Grantaire said, his eyes half-closed as Enjolras traced his fingers down his back, “I’d say it’s more proof that you like sex. Which was also in doubt, for what it’s worth.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Then what about this?” he asked, closing the space between them and kissing Grantaire, a slow, heady kiss that had Grantaire tugging him down onto the bed with him.

When they broke apart, it wasn’t to go far, their noses brushing against each other as they lay tangled up in each other. “That’s closer at least,” Grantaire murmured, his expression soft. “But I’ll keep the heart defect in mind, just in case you give me reason to doubt that you have a heart in the future.”

“I don’t plan to,” Enjolras told him.

Grantaire half-smiled. “I’m not sure this is the kind of thing that ever really is planned.”

“I know. But I want you to know that I’m…” Enjolras trailed off, looking for the right words. “I’m not going into this with the expectation that it’s a one and done kind of thing.”

Grantaire looked taken aback for a moment before his expression evened out. “Why, Monsieur, what sweet words for one such as me,” he said with a fake accent, fluttering his eyelashes at Enjolras, who rolled his eyes.

“Be serious,” he scoffed, adding warningly, “And don’t even say it.”

“Say what?” Grantaire asked innocently, not able to stop his grin.

“You know what.”

Grantaire’s grin widened. “Even if it’s true?”

Enjolras just gave him a look. “You’re less wild than you think.”

Grantaire laughed and stretched. “Yeah, well, I blame my 30s for that.” He waggled his eyebrows at Enjolras. “Besides, if we want to talk about wild, I want to hear more about your mother’s suspected cocaine habit.”

Enjolras shook his head, his eyes darkening as he looked at Grantaire. “How about we do something that doesn’t require any talking?”

“Oh, do you have a ball gag hidden somewhere that I don’t know about?”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras sighed exasperatedly.

Grantaire grinned, running his hands down Enjolras’s sides. “I’m just saying, you’re a pretty mouthy lay.”

Enjolras pressed a hand against his chest “As opposed to you, who is known for his ability to be silent.”

“Exactly.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Grantaire leaned in to kiss him but paused, his lips barely brushing Enjolras’s. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “Is your heart healthy enough for sex?”

“It’s healthier than you’ll be if you don’t kiss me,” Enjolras said warningly.

“God, you’re bossy,” Grantaire sighed, but he was grinning again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate before kissing Enjolras once more.

----------

“And then about three weeks later, the world went to hell and all of a sudden, what I had told Grantaire mostly as a joke was somewhat more relevant,” Enjolras finished.

Combeferre nodded slowly. “Because COVID could cause problems?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Possibly.”

“But enough to put you in the 1B+ priority group.”

Combeferre didn’t pitch it as a question and Enjolras scowled. “Theoretically, yes, but these phases are bullshit, and besides, I’m not getting vaccinated until—”

“Enjolras,” Combeferre interrupted, exasperated and wishing for not the first time that he could reach through the computer screen to knock some sense into his best friend. “Get the damn shot.”

Enjolras looked taken aback. “What?”

“The rollout is never going to be perfect, but this is the dumbest hill that I’ve ever seen you choose to die on.” Combeferre gave him a look. “And that’s saying something because I remember the time you took a stand in favor of school uniforms in junior high.”

“They can be an equalizer for students who can’t afford expensive clothes,” Enjolras muttered.

“Enjolras.”

“I’m just saying,” Enjolras said stubbornly. “Besides, I don’t think this is a dumb hill to die on, considering the affluent folks who are exploiting every trick in the book to cut in line!”

Combeferre shook his head. “But you’re not cutting in line. You’re eligible.”

“Sure, but I also have excellent health insurance, and can take time off work if I get sick, so even if I were to catch it—”

Combeferre gave him a look. “And if you don’t eat your vegetables, there are poor, starving children in Africa…”

Enjolras matched his look with one of his own. “I’m more concerned about the poor starving children in our own neighborhood,” he snapped.

But Combeferre was undeterred. “And you refusing to get vaccinated helps them how, exactly?” Enjolras said nothing, just crossing his arms in front of his chest, and Combeferre managed a small, grim smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“It’s a matter of principle,” Enjolras said, just a little petulantly.

“So is getting vaccinated so that you can keep doing the important work that you do.” Combeferre sighed. “Look, I can’t make you get vaccinated any more than Grantaire can. But you being mad at Grantaire just because you feel guilty—”

“That’s not—” Combeferre raised both eyebrows and Enjolras winced. “I guess that is sort of what happened.”

Combeferre tactfully chose not to pile on to that. “Getting the vaccine keeps people safe,” he said instead. “And while Grantaire may claim not to care about anything, we both know he would do anything to keep you safe.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that he got the vaccine to keep you safe. And because he was eligible to.” Combeferre paused before adding, “And you owe him an apology.”

“And to schedule a vaccine appointment for myself?” Enjolras asked.

Combeferre shrugged. “Again, that’s your decision. But yes.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly, but he no longer looked angry. Instead, something contemplative stole across his expression. “Did you ever imagine, a year ago, that we’d be talking about this?”

“About you and Grantaire getting into some asinine fight and me talking you down from being a stubborn asshole?”

“Ok, well, when you put it like that…” Combeferre laughed and Enjolras managed a smile as well. “Thank you.”

Combeferre gave him a look. “The best way to thank me is to never make me play referee again.”

“Yes, but that’s just unrealistic, so…”

Combeferre laughed again and shook his head. “Talk to Grantaire,” he ordered. “In the meantime, I’ll get the meeting started again. You two can join us after you’ve talked.”

Enjolras sighed. “Yes sir,” he muttered sourly. “But there’s just one thing I need to do first.”

“Use an exploitative third party delivery app to send a bottle of whiskey to Grantaire as an apology?” Combeferre guessed.

Enjolras made a face. “Ok, two things.”

Combeferre grinned. “You’re making your vaccine appointment, aren’t you.”

Enjolras shrugged. “What can I say, you made some good points.”

“So did Grantaire,” Combeferre said pointedly. “And I suspect he’d much rather hear you say that than I.”

Enjolras waved a dismissive hand. “Go,” he ordered. “We’ll be back on the zoom shortly.”

Combeferre hesitated. “Just one more thing.”

“Now what?” Enjolras asked, exasperated.

“Make sure to tell Grantaire that you understand.”

Enjolras’s brow furrowed. “Understand what?”

“That he got the vaccine because he loves you.” He leveled a look at Enjolras. “Enough for him to forgive you for accusing him of cutting the line just so he can drink at a bar.”

Enjolras winced. “Not my finest moment,” he admitted.

“Not so much,” Combeferre agreed.

“Think he’ll forgive me?”

Combeferre didn’t even have to pretend to think about it. “I know he will.”

#enjolras #grantaire #enjolras x grantaire #exr #enjoltaire #combeferre #all the amis #too lazy to tag them all #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #established relationship #covid cw #vaccine cw #just struggling with the year anniversary like one does

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