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kawaii-mango · 3 years

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Babysitter Blues

Surprise @kitkatzrgr8! I’m your Secret Santa! 😁

I hope you enjoy this bit of Donald bonding with his boys for @ducktalessecretsanta2020

Fanfiction.net

Note: Mrs. Birdwell is the babysitter shown in "Woo-oo!'

Chapter 1

The delicious scent of toasted bread wafted through Donald Duck's room. Even in a deep sleep, he couldn't help but smile. The pleasant aroma brought back memories of his dad cooking breakfast, or even better, his old roommate José Carioca making tasty pão na chapa.

But a sudden "CLANG" startled Donald and he fell out of his hammock bed.

As he sat up, he groaned and grumbled about his sore back. Even over his complaints, he heard three whispering voices coming from the living area. He frowned.

Something was up.

Donald stood to his feet and removed his sleep mask, but nearly fell over once he saw how bright it was outside.

"Oh no."

He scrambled over to his nightstand to check his phone, but when he pressed the button to check the time, the "dead battery" logo flashed dimly onscreen. His heart sank.

He overslept!

"Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" He dashed out of his room. His poor boys! They must've been starving!

Once he got to the kitchen area, the three ducklings stopped what they were doing and looked at him. Huey was sitting at the table spreading peanut butter on toast, next to him was Louie who was eating cereal, and Dewey was sitting on the floor eating a toaster pastry and playing video games.

"Good morning, Unca' Donald!" They greeted.

Before Donald could speak, Huey jumped up and ran over to him. "Look, Unca' Donald! I made breakfast for you!" He proudly held up a plate with two pieces of peanut butter toast with banana. "Don't worry, I used a plastic knife."

"Thanks, Huey." Donald said. "Boys, I-"

"C'mon sit down and eat!" Dewey hopped up and grabbed his arm to lead him to the table. Huey set down the plate and pulled out a chair and Dewey sat him down. "You've got a busy day ahead of you!"

Donald sat down. "I-"

"Don't forget the milk." Louie poured him a glass and slid it across the table, stopping just short of his plate."

Any initial guilt Donald was feeling about oversleeping was quickly being replaced by suspicion again as he looked at their smiling faces then down to his plate and back at them again.

"Okay, what's going on here?" He asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Nothing." Dewey answered, a little too quickly for Donald's liking.

Huey sighed. "Okay, Unca' Donald, you caught us." His brothers looked at him, but Huey simply shook his head causing them to back down.

"We don't want a babysitter anymore!" They said.

"Especially not one as boring as Old Mrs. Birdwell." Louie added.

"And we won't be home alone. We'll have each other!" Huey asserted.

"Yeah!" Dewey piped up. "Between the three of us, we're like 24-years-old!" The boys looked at their uncle with wide, toothy smiles; however, his expression remained unchanged.

"Sorry, boys, but no dice."

"But Unca' Don-"

"No being home alone until you get to high school, and not a moment before."

"Yes, Unca' Donald."

**********

Thankfully, the rest of breakfast proceeded without incident, and Donald returned to his room to get ready for the day. Before he began, he plugged up his phone to get some charge and sat in his hammock. He figured he could spare a few minutes to check and see what he might've missed since last night

Moments later, the phone's loading screen appeared and shortly afterwards, his lock screen. Not soon afterwards, notifications began to appear: News from Duckburg, a reminder about his phone's limited storage space, a special Cola Crash event, and finally, a voicemail from Mrs. Birdwell.

The last one puzzled Donald. Mrs. Birdwell seldom called unless it was a holiday or she was just letting him know that she would be running late (which was even more rare).

He shrugged it off. Maybe she was just checking in. This had been a busy week after all.

**********

Meanwhile, the boys sat in the living room, glaring at each other, yet avoiding the other's stare at the same time. Neither has said a word to the other since breakfast, but for Dewey, the silence was starting to become maddening.

"So what now?" He finally spoke up.

"I don't know, do you have any other bright ideas, Llewelyn?" Huey cut his eyes at his green-clad brother who responded with an equally dirty look

"You're the smart one, figure it out yourself, Hubert." Louie crossed his arms and turned away from him. Huey responded by also turning away from him in a huff.

Dewey scowled at his brothers. "Well somebody needs to come up with something!" He shouted. "I'm not about to have Old Mrs. Birdwell cramp my middle-school style!"

Louie scoffed. "Face it, Dewey, we don't have a snowball's chance of changing Unca' Donald's mind right now." He pouted and slumped down further on the couch.

"'Right now'." Huey echoed. "Hmm…" He got up and walked away. Dewey and Louie exchanged curious glances and followed him.

"Wha'cha got?" Louie asked.

"Well, it's going to take a lot more than just one day of showing Unca' Donald that we're responsible." Huey pondered. "If we're gonna get him to change his mind, we're going to need to keep this up for much longer."

"No problem!" Dewey said as Louie let out a disgusted grunt. "How much longer are you thinking? A couple of weeks? Maybe a month?"

"A year, at least."

This time Louie and Dewey let out disgusted grunts. Before Huey could speak again, Donald appeared in the hallway.

"Okay, then. Let me know what the doc-" He froze when he saw his nephews."Er, keep me posted. Bye." He ended the call and smiled at them.

"Are you ready to go, boys?" He added a nervous laugh. In response, they gave him looks that ranged between suspicious to concerned

"Unca' Donald, what's going on?" Huey asked.

Donald's grin dropped slightly. Instinctively, he wanted to tell them that nothing was wrong so that they wouldn't be worried, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Honesty was the best policy after all, especially given the situation.

"Boys," he started, "Mrs. Birdwell has just been taken to the hospital."

Chapter 2

A heavy, almost suffocating, cloud of gloom and guilt had fallen over the unusually quiet Duck household.

The triplets had retreated to their room and Donald was left alone in the living area. To get his mind off of things, he decided to straighten up the room a bit; however, his efforts quickly proved to be fruitless.

He couldn't help but feel guilty for ruining his nephews' day. Couldn't he have just waited three seconds to finish his call before stepping out into the hallway? In fact, he could've waited to call and check on Mrs. Birdwell. If she had just gone to the hospital at that time, it would probably be a couple of hours before she knew what was going on.

Donald sat on the couch and let out a ragged sigh as he placed his head in his hands. Although he was hoping for the best now, it was a sobering reminder that Mrs. Birdwell was up in age and won't always be around.

He shook his head, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

He wasn't about to let his mind fall in a whirlwind of worries, especially when there were more important things to think about.

Like cheering up his boys.

And he knew just the thing to do it.

**********

"Hiya, boys!"

The triplets muttered some form of greeting back to their uncle as he entered their room. Donald's smile dropped at seeing his normally rambunctious kids look so down. Huey was laying on the floor halfheartedly flipping through his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, Dewey was sitting upside down in a chair, and that lump on the bed meant that Louie was hiding under the covers.

Donald made his way through the room and sat on the bed. "So," he began, "are you all just gonna sit around here all day?"

"Mm-hmm." Huey said as he turned a page.

"Yup." Dewey responded.

"Pretty much." Louie answered from underneath the bed covers.

"Oh, I see." Donald looked down at his folded hands. "Well, I suppose that-"

Suddenly his phone rang. Huey and Dewey looked up at their uncle with concerned anticipation as he hurried to answer the phone.

"Hello?" Donald paused for the response. "Okay. … I see." By this time, Louie peeked his head from under the blanket.

"Well, are you up for talking to the boys?" Donald smirked at them as he saw their faces light up. "They were- … But I- … I didn't m- … Yes, ma'am. … Okay. … Okay, hold on a second." No sooner than Donald could remove the phone from his ear, to put it on speaker, the boys already crowded around him.

"Hi, Mrs. Birdwell!" They greeted.

"Hello, boys." Although she sounded tired, they were just glad to hear from her.

"How are you feeling?" Dewey asked.

"Much better." She replied. "But I probably won't be back for another week."

"That's okay, Mrs. Birdwell" Huey responded. "We'll miss you, but we want you to get better."

"Oh, you boys are so sweet."

"Okay, boys, I think we should let Mrs. Birdwell rest." Donald said. "We'll talk with you later."

"Bye!"

"Goodbye."

Once he hung up, Donald smiled at his nephews. "Well, you boys seem to be in better spirits." He mused.

"Yeah." Louie said, looking away.

"We're sorry about earlier, Unca' Donald." Huey said.

"Yeah, we didn't mean all of that stuff we said." Dewey added. "Well, we didn't mean to be mean about Mrs. Birdwell, but-"

"I understand, boys." Donald ruffled Dewey's hair. "You're growing up. It's only natural to want to be more independent."

"Yeah." They agreed.

"And maybe I need to step back and give you room to grow."

"Yeah!"

"And maybe we don't need to go to Funso's this afternoon."

"Yeah-wait!" The boys protested and pleaded with their uncle to reconsider that last decision.

"Okay, never mind that last one." Donald laughed. "Are you ready to go?"

"YEAH!"

Before he could get up to move, his nephews tackled him with hugs. "Thank you, Unca' Donald!' They said. Seconds later, they ran out of the room chanting the familiar slogan, "FUNSO'S FUNZONE! WHERE FUN IS IN THE ZONE!"

Donald laughed. Even though deep down he was still worried about the future, between Mrs. Birdwell and even his boys growing up, he decided to put that aside for now and just enjoy the moment.

And later on, some decent pizza at a fair price.

#Ducktales #DT17 #Donald Duck #Huey Duck #Louie Duck #Dewey Duck #Ducktales Secret Santa #My Mango Leaves

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clefaiiiry · 7 years

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Thanks to @tumblunni for beta reading :p

Companion to this.

Title: Clarity

Fandom: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions

Word Count: 5,265

Additional Tags: Friendship, Sign Language, Selectively Mute Dawn, Recovery Process, Implied Twinleafshipping, Japanese Names as Surnames

AO3 Version

“Only an idiot would go after him,” Barry had said.

It was unfortunate for them that Dawn had never thought highly of her own intelligence.

The pocket dimension (or the Distortion World as Cynthia had called it) was unlike anything Dawn could compare to. It was cold, colder than she was used to even after living her entire life in Sinnoh, but she felt no desire to bundle herself deeper into her coat. Even so, she lingered closer to Infernape than usual.

Gravity appeared to be inconsistent. Dawn had taken to using the tall grey trees that sprung up at seeming random angles. Some walls would pull her down while others would crumble if even the slightly pressure was applied. The swirling blue vortex seemed to be impossibly close and terrifyingly distant at the same time. She tried not to think about it too hard.

The air was heavy with dread, the faint cries of the Pokémon that inhabited this lonely place echoed through the empty space.

Infernape chirped as he clambered up a rock for better vantage of the area. The sprawling floating islands stretched for as far as Dawn could see. But she still couldn’t spot the Galactic leader.

[How hard is it to find one anti-social weirdo?] Dawn signed. Infernape shrugged.

The ground shook violently, a long shadow rose up across the two. While the tremors finally calmed, the shadows took shape. The huge creature that had torn open a rift as Dialga and Palkia were summoned. It took all her self-control to make sure she didn’t start shaking.

Why are you here, dear sweet child? It didn’t speak directly, it’s voice floated in the empty space from no discernible direction.

[I’m here to bring Cyrus back to our world,] she signed. The creature sagged.

A man like that has no interest in returning to the complete world. Why bother?

[Everyone deserves redemption.]

The creature’s body shook, as if laughing, though it remained audibly silent. Ah, that’s it? How utterly hopeless. Before she could argue, it swooped over her, curving around the floating islands with the grace of a Milotic.

He is closer than you think, dear sweet child.

The TV set in Rowan’s lab was about a decade too old to be in such a high-tech environment, but the staff had grown to appreciate the background noise. It was often left on the news, but anyone was free to switch channels with permission.

Barry had long since abandoned the samples he was pretending to look over as he gave his full attention to the slightly fuzzy image. A fake talk show host sat across the desk from Champion Cynthia Shirona.

“Thanks again for coming on, I’m sure you must be awfully busy these days,” the host said, his grin so wide that it almost split his face. Cynthia offered a pleasant smile in return and Barry almost believed it.

“It’s not a problem, we don’t get many challengers these days.”

“Why do you think that is, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Cynthia’s smile wavered for a moment. “I believe it is out of respect for the previous Champion. Miss Hikari only reigned for a few months and never lost a battle in her time as Champion. I feel as though I am not a suitable substitute, and many hope to battle her when she returns.”

The host leaned back in his chair. “Do you have any idea when that may be?”

After a moment of silence, she said, “I can’t say for certain, we don’t know enough about what happened to her to properly predict the outcome. But it’s been a year already and some are beginning to doubt that she may ever come back.”

The host tutted in pity. “We can only hope that Miss Hikari returns home safely.”

Static overtook the screen and Barry groaned, sitting up to tinker with the antenna.

“Need a hand?”

Barry glanced up at the voice. Lucas dropped to a crouch beside him and gave the TV a good whack. Barry snorted.

“You know that doesn’t actually work, right?”

But the image onscreen fizzled back to life. Lucas smirked. “Don’t argue with results.”

His expression faltered when he saw Cynthia.

“Miss Hikari’s family and friends are still grieving for their loss even after all this time,” she said, turning her attention towards the camera, “I ask for only respect from the people of Sinnoh.”

Lucas took off his hat and rubbed the back of his head. “Jeez, it feels like yesterday.”

“She was gonna be eighteen today,” Barry grumbled, though didn’t look up from the screen, “we always said we would go on a trip around Unova or Kalos or something...”

With a sigh, Lucas pushed to his feet and went to open a window. Sandgem Town was only just warming up after a particularly harsh winter, but Lucas had always insisted that the fresh air was good for them.

“I asked the Professor for a field assignment,” he said, lifting a box marked ‘For Oreburgh’ and passing it off to Kadabra, “he’s sending us off to Lake Valor for a week to look at how the Pokémon in the surrounding areas are adapting-”

“After Team Galactic blew it up,” Barry interjected.

Lucas shuffled awkwardly. “Well, yeah, basically.”

“Great...” Barry huffed as he pushed to his feet. When he noticed how Lucas was playing with his coat, he sighed. “I do appreciate the effort, but couldn’t you have gotten anywhere else?”

“It was the only one still open,” Lucas offered meekly, “And I thought it might be good for you to try and face some of this stuff. You can’t exactly avoid it forever...”

As much as Barry hated to admit it, Lucas was right. He’d already put off revisiting the lakes since Dawn disappeared; it brought up too many emotions he wasn’t ready to face. He hadn’t set foot in Veilstone City either, not wanting anything to do with the ‘reformed’ Team Galactic. He knew they were up to something, there was no way they would suddenly shift into a genuine energy company overnight.

“If that’s too much,” Lucas began, “we can start off in Sendoff Spring and work our way up.”

After a long moment, Barry finally nodded.

“So long as we don’t stay in Veilstone.”

Barry had only ever seen Sendoff Spring in photos. They really didn’t do the place justice. It had the clearest water he had ever seen. Goldeen and Magikarp gathered in small clumps, a rare Seaking or even rarer Gyarados poking their heads above the surface to make sure these humans wouldn’t cause any trouble.

Lucas was perched on Torterra’s back as he set up the time lapse camera, muttering to himself as he worked.

“We left a few gauges in Turnback Cave last time we were here,” he said as he rummaged through he duffle bag, “if you wanna go check on them.”

Barry glanced over to the Golduck who were sizing them up from behind the treeline. “Will you be okay by yourself? What about the buddy system?”

Lucas laughed. “It’s fine, I’ll be with you in, like, five minutes.”

Even with Lucas’ assurances, he left Empoleon to keep watch. He found himself regretting his choice of footwear as his trainers struggled to keep grip on the rocky slopes. He ended stumbling and landing on his ass. A pair of Bibarel snickered at him but a quick glare sent them scurrying back into the tall grass.

Everything Barry knew about Sinnoh’s mythology came from Dawn or Cynthia. He certainly wouldn’t go out of his way to study it himself; most of it was pretty dull to him anyway.

Flood lights illuminated the first room, the signs of archaeological excavation everywhere. Cynthia had recently given the go ahead for a dig so long as the local Pokémon populations weren’t disturbed. Barry clambered over the tools and pits, finding the gauges Lucas had been talking about along the back wall.

He had started jotting down the numbers when he heard a heavy, dull sound. Almost as if something was being dragged. Barry reached for his belt, fingers gracing his Poké Balls.

Carefully sliding one foot in front of the other, he creeped along the wall. The sound grew louder as he moved closer to a sprawling painting of the Lake Spirits until another sound made him jump to action.

“Help... Anyone...?”

Someone was behind the wall. Barry threw out Snorlax and yelled through the wall as loud as his lungs could manage,

“Stand back, I’ll get you out!” He whipped around to face his Pokémon. “Body Slam!”

Snorlax roared as he threw himself into the wall with all the force he could muster. The wall cracked and groaned. A weak yelp came from the other side.

“Again!” Barry yelled. Snorlax obeyed. The section of wall shuddered and collapsed, dust billowing up into the air and catching in Barry’s throat and eyes. He choked and spluttered for a few seconds, fanning his face in a meek attempt to clear the air.

When it finally settled, Barry climbed through the hole and squinted through the darkness.

“Hello?” He called, doing a full three-sixty-turn before he caught sight of bright eyes in the dark.

Luxray eyes.

He fumbled for his torch. His heart almost stopped.

Before him stood a girl, who hadn’t changed in the year she’d been gone. Not physically at least. Her eyes were wild, her stance weaker, leaning on her Luxray for support. Her scarf was hanging untied from her neck, her coat tied around her waist, but her trusty hat remained in place.

Luxray stood strong, her frame wary, weighed down by an unconscious man draped over her back. But Barry couldn’t find it in him to care about that.

“Dawn?” he asked slowly, easing forward.

Dawn’s tired face eased into a relieved smile. “Barry...” she sighed, her voice scratchy from lack of use.

And then she fainted.

The closest hospital was Veilstone, so despite Barry’s preferences, they found themselves sat in the hallway of Veilstone Memorial, twiddling their thumbs and trying not to panic.

Cynthia arrived about an hour after they had first check in, flustered and closely followed by Looker from Interpol.

“Somehow the press already knows that they’re back,” Cynthia said as she paused to catch her breath, “there’s a crowd of reporters outside wanting to know what the deal is.”

“Holy shit,” was all Barry could say.

After the third hour, Professor Rowan appeared, his expression unreadable. Looker finally let out a regretful sigh.

“I know emotions are still high, but I need to take a statement,” he said, looking to Barry and Lucas.

Barry explained what had happened, conveniently leaving out how he’d destroyed a potentially priceless wall painting when Cynthia was still present.

“Wait, I thought she was mute?” Looker asked with a frown.

“Selectively,” Barry explained, “it’s her anxiety.”

“Ah, I see...” Looker muttered as he scribbled down notes in his pad.

Cynthia cleared her throat. “What about Cy- Akagi? Was he... awake when you found them?”

With a shake of his head, Barry said, “No, he was out. Luxray was carrying him.”

“Their Pokémon are at the nearby Centre to make sure they haven’t suffered any ill effects from their time in the other world,” Lucas added.

She seemed a little disappointed with the answer, but said nothing.

Rowan seemed to notice. “Miss Shirona, would you mind accompanying me for a short walk?”

Cynthia exchanged a glance with Looker before she nodded. The two strolled away, speaking in hushed tones.

When Barry frowned, Looker said, “They used to be close. Miss Shirona and Mr Akagi. Grew up together I believe.”

“Cynthia was friends with him?” Barry’s voice dripped with disgust.

Lucas narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly silenced himself.

It was the seventh hour when a doctor came by to confirm that Dawn was stable but still unconscious. She encouraged the boys to head to bed and get some rest. It was only then that Barry realised it was past eleven o’clock and his body sagged with sudden exhaustion. Looker held back to question the doctor, but Barry and Lucas headed for the Pokémon Centre.

As Cynthia had mentioned, there were a few reporters outside. Most of them had headed off when they figured out that they weren’t going to get any of the juicy stuff from staking out the joint. That or the hospital staff had forced them to move along. Only the truly dedicated or clueless remained and they tried to pounce on the boys for an interview only to be totally ignored.

The nurses at the Pokémon Centre handed over a set of Poké Balls once Barry and Lucas could prove their identities. Dawn’s Poké Balls.

“What about Akagi’s?” Lucas asked.

“Miss Shirona already came by a while ago and picked them up.”

Their room was basic, but they didn’t need anything fancy. Lucas was asleep in seconds, snoring like a freight train as soon as his head hit the pillow. Barry lay awake staring at the ceiling. He barely slept a wink.

It was about a week before Dawn was awake and lucid enough to accept visitors. Before they headed in, the doctor pulled them aside to explain the rules.

“Don’t make any sudden moves or loud noises, don’t mention anything about Mt Coronet, and do not tell her anything about Mr Akagi’s condition outside of ‘he’s fine.’ She is still experiencing high levels of stress and anxiety. If she goes into a panic attack, call the nurse.”

Lucas went in first, insisting it was better for Barry to calm himself down before he raced in shouting and freaked her out any more. He begrudgingly accepted.

While he waited, Looker appeared and sat beside him.

“I’ll have to head in after you,” he said.

“Doctor said you can’t ask her about what happened,” Barry warned. Looker sighed.

“I expected as much... But at the very least I want to see how she’s doing with my own eyes.” He reached down to pet Croagunk. “Akagi is still totally out of it. If he does wake up he’s completely hysterical.”

“Honestly? I don’t care if he gets any better,” Barry said. Looker stared at him with an expression he couldn’t figure out.

“Why do you say that?”

“You gotta forgive me for not having much sympathy for the guy who tried to destroy the universe and dragged my best friend through a wormhole.”

“My understanding was that Miss Hikari followed from her own will?”

“You get what I mean!” Barry snapped. “Dawn was always too nice for her own good! She thought that even something like... that can be forgiven. He doesn’t deserve her sympathy.”

Looker sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. “I don’t think she thought he deserved her help, but she thought he needed it.” He tapped his temple. “That’s the working theory, at least.”

“I’m doubting your ‘working theory,’ Mister Looker.”

“If you think that is questionable, don’t read any of the newspaper articles that came out over the last week.”

Barry had made a point of avoiding any news stations after Lucas noted that he would probably just get angry at whatever he saw.

There was a distinct click of the door reopening and Lucas poked his head out. He glanced between Barry and Looker with a frown.

“Is now a bad time?”

Barry pushed to his feet and made his way to the door without looking back. “Now is great,” he said as he shouldered past Lucas into the room. Lucas tensed, ready to bite back but he thought better of it and slipped out, closing the door behind him.

It was like a dream, from the way the light filtered through the window to how utterly defeated the girl in the bed looked.

In all the years he had known her, Barry had rarely seen Dawn looking so broken. The only other time he could think of was after her mother had locked her out one night in their early teenaged years. She had turned up on his doorstep in tears but refused to speak of it the following morning.

Dawn glanced over as he entered and gave him a fragile smile.

“I know, I look super weird without my hat,” she said, her voice straining as she spoke.

The only people she spoke aloud to were Barry, Lucas, and Cynthia but even then she preferred to sign when possible. Barry frowned.

“You don’t have to talk.”

She shrugged. “My arms are tired from talking to the doctors.”

There was a chair next to the bed, dragged over from the corner and battered from excessive wear and tear. Barry slowly lowered himself into it and offered a hand to Dawn. She took it and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles.

“I missed you,” she said. Those words broke something within Barry. His chest felt tight and his eyes stung as tears sprung up in the corners of his eyes. He reached up to wipe them with his free hand.

“I missed you so much,” he sobbed, clutching her hand like a lifeline.

With a soft tug, he found himself bundled into a tight hug. Dawn lightly stroked his back as he wheezed and bawled. His words stopped making sense as he rambled for what felt like hours. She never said a word, just let him cry and kept stroking his back.

Once he’d finally calmed down enough to speak properly, he pulled back to wipe his face. “Why... Why did you leave?”

Dawn blinked in confusion for a moment before the words finally settled and she looked to the window. She squeezed Barry’s hand.

“Giratina would’ve destroyed him if I let him go in there alone.”

White hot rage shot through him. “Who cares about him?! You could’ve died!”

Dawn jumped at his volume. He immediately recoiled with apologies.

“I’m sorry I just... I was so scared that I’d never see you again. That you’d just thrown everything away from some asshole who wanted to destroy everything.”

The air was heavy and cold, making him shudder. Dawn’s eyes were hard.

“You don’t know anything about what happened,” she said, her free hand tightening in the sheets, “you weren’t there. So don’t you dare try to paint this like some black and white issue because this isn’t like one of those dumb cartoons we used to watch.”

Her voice started to quiver in her throat, as if it were about to give out. “Why would I throw away my life for someone I didn’t think deserved a second chance? If he was as evil as you think then why...” She coughed and gasped around the words. “Why did Cynthia cry when she found out he was still alive? Why did Rowan look so relieved? Why would anyone care about a man if he were pure evil?”

“I...” Barry couldn’t form anything, his response dying before it could escape, “I didn’t think...”

“No... you didn’t think with your head. You just went with your heart...” She smiled fondly. “Like you always do.” It was her turn to cry. “It’s why you’re my best friend. But...” Her voice almost gave out with a croak. “I need you to trust me on this... Please, Barry...”

They were quiet for a long moment, only the foggy sounds of the city outside and the nurses roaming the halls punctuating their moment.

“Okay...” Barry hugged her once more. “I trust you.”

Over the next month, Barry dropped in to visit every opportunity he had. Between the short visitor hours and his job at Rowan’s Lab he could rarely spend more than an hour with her, but Dawn appreciated the effort.

“It’s not like there’s anything else to do around here,” she had said, “the doctors won’t tell me anything.”

The time spent in the hospital was either in her room or the rehabilitation centre. Her time in the other world had weakened her muscles and left her easily disorientated and her Chatot was left with her at all times to alert staff of impending panic attacks.

Occasionally her perception of reality slipped and she was back in the other world, clawing at the sheets and crying out for anything to cling to. Barry soon learnt that the worse thing he could do was the call the doctors. She seemed to settle faster if a familiar face was there instead of a looming stranger in a white coat. Not to say that they didn’t work hard to make sure her recovery was as smooth as possible, but there were a few areas in which Barry didn’t trust them as much as he trusted himself.

Whenever they met up, he tried to keep her updated on the situation outside but she could only deal with so much before she wanted to talk about something else.

Dawn tried not to talk about Team Galactic around Barry. Anything about them came from Cynthia or Rowan.

One day, about three weeks after she’d checked in, Barry noticed flowers on her bedside table.

“Apparently they’re from Saturn,” Dawn said as she reached over to readjust the arrangement, “or whatever it is he goes by these days.”

It took far too much self-control not to make a point of knocking them down.

Before he could comment, she had asked about how Lucas was doing and they didn’t mention Team Galactic again for the rest of the exchange.

With Dawn still under the watchful eye of the hospital staff, Cynthia had been turning down interviews from all angles. Interpol was hanging around, trying their best to be covert but everyone knew of their presence. It was enough to scare off most of the reporters, so Barry didn’t mind too much.

It was week four before Dawn finally got sick of not being told anything by the doctors and asked Barry to bring in outside goods. He started sneaking in snacks and newspapers, something Lucas didn’t have the heart to discourage.

“If anyone finds out, I don’t know you,” Lucas joked, but from the look on his face he’d been totally serious.

Dawn always accepted the papers with a mix of excitement and dread. Barry had purposely avoided sensationalist papers and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“What’s the worst one you’ve seen?” she asked, glancing up from the headline ‘Champion Hikari is expected to make full recovery.’

“Some folks from Kalos are trying to push the secret love affair angle.”

Dawn retched. “Ew! That’s so gross! Are you serious?” When Barry nodded, she groaned. “People are the worst...”

Barry shuffled his feet awkwardly. “How much do you know about...”

“About Cyrus’ condition?” Dawn sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “Only what Cynthia told me. That he’s awake more often but he’s always hysterical unless Cynthia or one of his Pokémon is there.” She looked down, brushing some loose hair behind her ear. “He asks about me a lot. He thought I was dead for the first week until Cynthia could get him to calm down.”

When Barry said nothing in response, she trailed off.

“Sorry, I know you don’t care about him.”

With a shrug, Barry said, “I’m trying this ‘empathy’ thing, but it’s kinda hard.”

Dawn laughed. “You’re trying your best and that’s what matters.”

Week five rolled around and Barry felt oddly apprehensive as he entered the hospital. Cynthia was trying to convince the doctors to let her move Cyrus to the medical centre at the Pokémon League, though hadn’t had much luck so far.

She was in a Holo Caster call when Barry spotted her in the lobby, foot tapping rapidly as she let out a huff. She hung up on the person mid-sentence.

“Jeez, what did that guy ever do to you?” Barry joked. Cynthia rolled her eyes.

“Another station wanting an interview. I’m gonna need a secretary at this rate.”

They made their way to the ward, exchanging tips on Roserade care when they noticed a familiar face.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to come by,” Cynthia said softly, reaching out to shake Saturn’s hand.

The young man was awfully stiff, his frame holding no strength. It was hard to believe he was now the head of the leading energy provider for Sinnoh. He took the offered hand through obligation rather than comradery.

“I feel as though I owe him a visit at the very least,” he muttered, “blame Mabel.”

Cynthia chuckled. “Fair enough, I’ll show you to his room if you wish.”

Saturn just nodded and trailed closely behind her, like a child making sure they wouldn’t lose their mother while out shopping.

“I’ll meet up with you later, okay Barry?”

Barry just nodded, watching until the two disappeared around a corner. He headed off to Dawn’s room.

“What do you mean I can’t see her? She’s my daughter!”

The doctor looked exhausted, the effects of this morning’s coffee having not yet kicked in. “She has explicitly requested that you are not allowed in to see her.”

“This is ridiculous!” Johanna threw up her hands in dismay. “You can’t stop me from going in!”

“Ma’am, we keep telling you that we can’t let you in.”

Barry hoped to sneak past without being noticed but the woman whirled round as soon as she heard movement, eyes focusing on him like a Mandibuzz.

“And you! How dare you ignore my calls! I have a right to know what’s going on here!”

“Please, Mrs Hikari, you’re making a scene-”

“Not until this little brat-”

Barry looked straight past her to the doctor. “Am I alright to go in?”

The doctor nodded. Johanna sounded about she was about to start sobbing. He paid her no mind as he pushed into Dawn’s room.

Soft music came from the radio set on her bedside table. She had managed to convince the doctors to let her keep it, even if it did have access to news stations. They couldn’t protect her from the outside world forever

Dawn didn’t look away from the window as Barry walked in, humming softly to herself. “Morning,” she said, stretching a hand out for him to take.

“Did you know your mom’s here?”

She scoffed. “How could I not? She’s gonna scream the place down. I can’t tell if she’s genuinely worried or just mad that all the effort she put into her precious protégé is gonna be for nothing.”

Dawn’s words held venom unlike anything he had ever heard from her. She had never been one to outwardly bad-mouth how her mother had raised her, that was Barry’s job. Dawn always found herself trying to excuse her mother’s behaviour, no matter the seriousness.

What had happened to her in the other world?

“Dawn...”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, waving her hand, “I’ll be fine, just...” She took a deep breath. “Give me a minute.”

The music from the radio drifted into soft piano, an old Kalosian piece that had been growing in popularity recently. Barry pushed up to his feet and extended his hand to Dawn.

“What...?”

“Come on, I don’t think we’ve danced since we were twelve.”

Dawn blinked once, twice, and reached up to wipe her face. She took his hand and slid her legs over the side of the bed. Physical rehabilitation had been going well but she was still shaky on her legs. After some careful manoeuvring, she perched her bare feet on stop of his heavy boots and let him guide her around the small room, swaying out of tempo with the music.

They didn’t care, both simply content to be together without having to worry about the outside world.

Dawn was released after two months, but only under the agreement that she would inform the doctors immediately if she experienced any issues and would continue to attend therapy sessions once a week.

Meanwhile Cynthia had somehow convinced the doctors that Cyrus was ready to be discharged alongside her. Either the doctors were just sick of her asking or just didn’t want to deal with him anymore. Barry was willing to believe both.

It was only after he and Cynthia went to pick them up that he realised he hadn’t seen Cyrus since the initial discovery in Turnback Cave. He wasn’t exactly on the edge of his seat to see the man again but accepted that it was going to happen whether he wanted it or not.

The lobby was strangely quiet, though Barry assumed it had something to do with Interpol. Looker hovered besides the two, Dawn excitedly signing as Cyrus struggled to keep up.

The agreement was for Cyrus to stay with Dawn on Route 229, but Cynthia would be arranging for a psychiatrist if necessary.

Barry had offered to take her back to Twinleaf Town, but Dawn had made herself very clear that she had no intention of going back.

[Besides, there aren’t enough bedrooms even if I did want to stay there,] she signed.

The Villa on Route 229 had barely been touched since the incident at the Spear Pillar. Barry and Lucas would drop by every month or so to make sure everything was in working order, but it otherwise stayed empty. It was far enough away to give them space, but close enough to society that they could seek out assistance if necessary.

Tension leaked from Dawn’s form when she opened the door. She and Cynthia went to pack away her things, leaving Barry with Looker and Cyrus.

“Interpol will be dropping by throughout the next few weeks to make sure you’re settling,” Looker said as he glanced to Cyrus, “and to make sure you don’t start anything. Nothing personal, just a cautionary action.”

Cyrus just nodded.

“Right then,” Looker fixed his poor posture and glanced to Barry, “are you sticking around as well?”

“For as long as Dawn wants me here, yeah.”

Looker smiled and opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it and shook his head.

“Then, gentlemen, I wish you well,” Looker bowed his head, turned on his heel and headed out into the cool spring air.

Cynthia left shortly after she was certain everything was secure. Duty called.

“We’ll have another battle at some point to see who gets to keep the title,” she said as she summoned Garchomp.

[We both know I’ll win,] Dawn signed smugly. Cynthia threw back her head as she laughed.

“We’ll see about that.”

She turned her attention to Cyrus, who had been silent since they arrived.

“Are you gonna be okay? I can stick around if you want?”

Cyrus was still looking at his feet. He shook his head.

[If anything happens, I’ll give you a call,] Dawn signed.

With a sigh, Cynthia reached over to pat his shoulder. Cyrus finally met her eyes. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help. It’s why you’re here.”

Cyrus stared at her for a long moment, shoulders tensed like a cornered Pokémon. He remained strung high even as Cynthia took her hand away, turning to climb up onto Garchomp’s back.

“Have a good night. I’m not too far away if you need any help, okay?”

[I think we’ll be okay, thanks Cynthia.] Dawn smiled wide. [Have a safe trip.]

With one last look, Cynthia gave her partner a pat. “Come on, let’s get going,” she said. Garchomp chirped and took a running start before taking off, propelling herself upwards into the clear sky.

They watched until the dragon disappeared from sight.

#fanfiction #pokemon #pokemon dppt #team galactic #barry (pokemon)#dawn (pokemon)#team galactic leader cyrus #champion cynthia #ria.txt #my writing

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snickering-kitsune · 7 years

Text

A Hellion with No Purpose

I swear making Lunarre an aimless, wise-cracking Observer of All was the worst thing they could have done for his character. Even in the games he had a drive, while not particularly explored or examined, he at the very least had one. Namely, vengeance.

The anime, on the other hand, stripped Lunarre of his loyalty to, betrayal of, and ultimately his desire for vengeance against, the Scattered Bones and his former boss Rose. It stripped him, also, of his desire to pursue Alisha for longer than the plot would allow. Three episodes in and suddenly Lunarre is more interested in sightseeing along with Alisha than having her for dinner.

In so doing, Lunarre becomes little more than a stand-in for the audience. An observer with little to no influence on the plot unless the plot or, more specifically, Alisha focus, demands. He even outright declares himself an observer, and has little ambition to move from his solitary perch overlooking the plot at all unless pushed.

The rest of the time Lunarre is content with muttering to himself about what he sees and how excited he is, like a good audience-stand-in. As the Observer of All he adds precious little to nothing to the flow of the plot nor to his own character as the story progresses. It makes his sudden attempt at redemption at the end utterly baffling.

Lunarre also has a strange and utterly baffling habit of constantly questioning his own motives for being in whatever location he planted himself in, as if self-aware that his actions, as a fictional character, are controlled by the gods that are the Writers and so forth.

Unfortunately, it seems that Lunarre’s constant questioning of himself, even manifesting as rhetorical questions when asked directly who he is and what he is doing in such-and-such a place.

Example: In episode 20 of Season 2, Maltran asks Lunarre who he is. Lunarre’s response is quite literally ‘I wonder?’ It doesn’t occur to him to simply answer with his name.

From my perspective, there are two main problems with his anime portrayal.

Problem #1: His Brief Appearance as a Human

We are shown Lunarre as a human, working under Rose’s leadership as a member of the Scattered Bones. If the game is anything to go on, then like in the game Lunarre will have by this point been with the guild for two years.

This alone completely fucks with Lunarre’s identity crisis, as it appears.

He is onscreen as a human 54 seconds. I know, I timed it, including the time in which he was masked, fighting Alisha.

From what we saw, Lunarre was loyal to Rose and a keen fighter, though unable to match Alisha.

That, coupled with the fact that he is a member of an assassin’s guild and has likely been such for two years straight, calls into question how he could be anything but serious in his belief that he belongs to the Scattered Bones, that he is part of it.

You don’t join something like an assassin’s guild for the luls, and you certainly don’t stay there two years when you’re not sure if it’s really the job you see yourself doing long-term. Rose certainly wouldn’t have tolerated someone like that in her guild. Game!Lunarre certainly considered himself a member until his behaviour got him kicked out.

So why does he leave? And why does he suddenly become the most uncertain man in the entire Zestiria universe?

Lunarre, as in the game, never removes his assassin uniform. He keeps his tie to the guild despite so abruptly and nonsensically leaving it, and he bears no grudge or ill will towards it or Rose. Neither what little we saw of his human life nor his transformation into a hellion give the audience any indication that he transformed and went rogue other than because he’s batshit crazy.

Yes, there was a slight indication that Rose’s comment could have set him off, but it’s one comment, with no history of similar comments or treatment that might have made this particular comment mean anything. It certainly doesn’t give the weight necessary to give credence to the fact that LUNARRE BECAME A HELLION because of it!

If we had been given more insight into what could have been a mind steadily disillusioned with the assassin lifestyle, a man realising he is, for whatever reason (let’s say skill) the black sheep of the organisation. We could have seen how he feels belittled by Rose, perhaps, or underappreciated, or lacking in fulfillment. It would have gone a long way to explaining why Lunarre became a hellion after Rose told him he was ‘no match’ for Alisha.

Perhaps that is what they were going for, but it is so poorly conveyed it goes unnoticed under the maniacal cackling from the newly-transformed fox hellion.

Problem #2: No Time, No Effort, No Shits Given (Until it’s Too Late)

The identity crisis could have been a very interesting. it could have been a rare, intimate insight into a more in-control hellion’s mind.

Lack of time and focus on him, even through other characters, who by and large forgot his existence until they discovered his dead body near the end of season 2, meant that his entire ‘arc’ was botched practically from the start.

The smatterings of appearance he made only raised eyebrows from confused viewers, wondering what he’s still doing here. He either comments on what the audience can already see, or acts like a deranged lunatic simply content to watch cool shit go down. Only as the series draws close to its finale do the writers suddenly realise Lunarre exists and has had no resolution yet.

Unfortunately, it falls flat on its face (much like Lunarre does as he dies) because there has been no build-up, no tension, no time or effort given to invest in his character before. Why should the audience give a shit now, when they have never been given a reason to prior?

When there has been no build-up, there cannot be any pay-off. At all. Only confusion, disbelief, and annoyance.

Thus, as the main cast inexplicably take time out to have a minute’s silence over Lunarre’s dead body, the viewer can only sigh and mutter “Can we just get on with it? Who the fuck is this guy anyway?”

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pendragonfics · 7 years

Text

Silly, Blink-And-Miss, Short Human Life

A Gem in a Rare Trove of Treasure: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Paring: Loki/Reader

Tags: female reader, reader is a waitress, reader is cousins with Maria Hill, canon compliant, set vaguely around Avengers (2012), set in both Midgard and Asgard, fluff, healing, angst with a happy ending.

Summary: When most people say they have taken a lover, it sounds almost Bond-ish; like they had a day job, and a classy uptown life and had to splash out one day and find a person to warm their sheets by night and heart by day. But for you, the waitress who worked downtown by the train station in your little old town, when your friends suggested that's the label to put with you and the handsome stranger who won you over, they laughed.

Word Count: 2,173

Posting Date: 2017-01-22

Current Date: 2017-06-18

When most people say they have taken a lover, it sounds almost Bond-ish; like they had a day job, and a classy uptown life and had to splash out one day and find a person to warm their sheets by night and heart by day. But for you, the waitress who worked downtown by the train station in your little old town, when your friends suggested that's the label to put with you and the handsome stranger who won you over, they laughed.

You'd laughed too; the idea that you, the waitress who had only finished community college because a generous check to pay the lot, taking a lover? You, who wore sneakers with more holes and wear and tear than the second-hand apron you wore to work, who belted out pop music in the car when nobody was listening, taking a fancy-schmancy lover? But that moment passed quickly, because it was true. You had a ... bedfellow, as you'd heard an elderly couple call it once. He was tall, with raven locks that grew longer with every time he came. He was pale, quite porcelain, and spoke with a clear voice, a practised lilt.

He said his name was Loki, which you decided was a fake name. It was the most exotic of fake names you'd come across in your line of work, where cheques came under Hermione Niehaus or John Smith. Whoever he was, whatever he did for a living, he somehow thought to name himself after a Nordic God, and yet, he dressed like a biker, all leather.

He was kind, and warmed your heart and bed, yes, but he got you, really got you - he understood your need to understand what was honestly out there in the world, and talked of his home like it wasn't from here. He brought a book, once, which was older than you were, and leant it to you. He said it was literature translated from his language to yours, and said he hoped you would like it. In fact, that time was the last time you heard at all from Loki, the one man who wasn't after your body and time like all the others you had come across. He had lusted for your mind. Spoke poetry in everyday ways to woo, but he - he never came back.

Months passed, jobs came and went, and you spent the months slowly working your way through temporary gigs closer to the city of Washington, closer to where your roots were, to try to make something come of your silly, blink-and-miss, short human life. In your new work, an after-hours joint where people wore pretty shoes and drank toxic shots, the TV blared, the news waking them from their pretty party facades.

There was smoke, on the screen, heavy, thick, the type that chokes you once it enters your lungs. Through it, were the echos of screams, the pulse of police sirens, the hum of German voices, panicked, shrill. The words 'hostage situation contained' darted onscreen, the figures of several people on screen. The Iron Man, the star-spangled Captain America, and -

You screamed.

The tray you were holding fell, toppling down, down until it smashed upon the ground. Your boss gave a shout, but you didn't hear his words, not over what was happening in Stuttgart. Because behind the two men, the American hero, and the billionaire superhero, was the dark-haired man you had become one with on more than one occasion, sitting there, bound, eyes wild, mad like a madman.

"__________!" Your boss boomed, "Clean up the mess, and take five out back to breathe."

---

You took ten, your pay packet, and ran to the one place where you hoped would help you with who you were searching for. After time passed, your cousin Maria had grown distanced from you, but no matter what, in every obligatory Christmas card she sent, there was always her work phone, and scribbled under it 'if you see something, say something x'. You'd always assumed it was because she worked for Homeland Security, and that's why you never heard from her, but when you dialled, a computerised voice intoned. You've reached the message bank of Agent M. Hill of S. H. I. E. L. D. - just as it went to enunciate the next part of the message, the familiar voice of Maria answered.

"There's a man on the television who I know, Maria," you burst, the words blurted out at once. "On - on the news. Dark hair, pale skin. Stuttgart." your voice sounds as wobbly as you are upon your feet.

You almost hear her grin in her voice. "Good, good, you're good, ________ - I knew giving you my number would be useful one day!" she nearly whooped, if counting her joyous business-talk counted as excitement. A lead. "Where are you? I'll send Coulson to get you on his way to Germany."

Coulson came, and was as silent as ever, the typical man in a suit, wearing shades indoors like he was a top government agent, but as far as you knew, that was exactly what he and your cousin were. As you sat in the small plane - a quinjet, he called it - hurtling towards Germany to pick up the man you had fallen so deeply for, the man who you had thought was a man, who, per the briefing from Agent Coulson, was man in gender, alien in race. From Asgard, the land of the immortals, the Gods of the Norse. You decided to be quiet. Listen. Because as soon as you came to Germany, the man who you had shared secrets with would get an ass-whooping.

But, alas, he was in deep custody by the time you got there, held by a man with an eyepatch, and, oddly enough, your cousin herself. Maria Hill. Before she looked you in the eye, the man with the eyepatch – Director Fury, as Coulson had told you – looked you up and down, handed you a clip board and a pen, and harrumphed.

"She'll be the second to go in, after Agent Romanoff." Director Fury glanced away, focusing on the screen by the front of the atrium, where the man you thought you knew was pacing. He looked almost feline in there, almost more inhuman than you'd ever thought you'd see another being become. "I have a mask, and a voice changer, as to protect you, Miss ________, if you will agree to use them. On the board are instructions, things to do and do not do in a situation like we are under as of now."

Your eyes graze over the paper in your hands, and back to the S. H. I. E. L. D. agents before you. "With all due respect, sir," you hand back the clipboard, "I'm not quite sure you've had a situation like this one before."

---

The mask changes your features to be of a woman of ethnic appearance, wrinkled by the sands of time, the voice changer making you sound like someone who had just swallowed a beach, salt water and sand, and all the sandcastle toys too. Natasha Romanoff had exited, having found his play (something to do with the resident time-bomb, a very smart man you knew from the headlines of New York, Dr. Banner) and counting five minutes, you entered.

"I'll guess you're hired help," he commented on your appearance into the room in which he was confined in. You didn't look to him, ignoring Loki's words, the taunts. He was nothing like this when you were with him. His heart had sung poetry, and lain with you like a man without an idea of what time did to those who rose from the bed and went on with life. "What, are you deaf?" He jeered.

You shook your head. "Only to the man standing before me." you replied.

He seemed to like the riddles; from what you knew, the Loki before you was somewhat like the Loki before, who had made you fall in love with the idea of words being different to what they truly were, having side doors and passages through meanings from times before.

"Another elder, lecturing me on my life." he dismissed. "You are all the same, here on earth. Saying you know me for what I am, because of my actions."

You shook your head, steeping your back to sit on a chair by the front of the glass. They had given you a shawl to cover yourself with, much like the ugly old wench who had cursed the prince in Disney's Beauty and The Beast. "But oh, I am deaf to your insults, trickster. I know you, I know your heart. What froze it?" you whisper.

Loki frowns, silent. A beat passes between you, but before he can speak, you continue.

"I read the words you shared with me, and took you in my home like a good stranger would," your voice crackled over the emotions, coming through strange with the voice modulator. "I felt your soul beside my own, and you come here, and spit on my feelings like they are nothing."

"Who are you?" He growls, fist raised to the glass.

You shake your head, giving a rueful chuckle. "How could I think, a thousand year old god would remember my name?" you ask the cameras, the microphones planted in the walls, ask the man captured before you. You hear them protesting in the earpieces, telling you not to shed your disguise, but your heart bleeds for the man, and not with pity. Despite their interest, you shed the modulator, the shawl from your shoulders, the cybernetic mask from your face. "Loki, I loved you." you look at him with your own eyes.

He is silent.

Then, "________-"

"But the man I loved is dead," you interrupt, rising from the chair, turning your back to him. "He cared about life, never hurt a soul, at least, not with the raw fury, the intention I saw in Germany. You are dead to me, Loki, and if you come to my bed once more, expect more of your anatomy to be dead to me, in the literal sense." At this, you walk out, leaving him in there, alone to ponder.

---

The melee fades, and New York is in tatters, and people are saying there was no such thing as aliens like it was just another episode of Doctor Who and not real life that you had almost nearly died from the Chitauri, at Loki's lead. But when the base is blown up, and you are huddled in a shock blanket in the depths of the Helicarrier, you see a change in Loki as the mask is slapped on, manacles upon his wrists through the video-com link.

"I need to see him," you shout out, only to be heard by your cousin, Maria.

She gave you the look. It was the look that suggested you were crazy, or that maybe what you believed was wrong, and it was just some dramatic How I Met Your Mother crap that you were sprouting, but before you pleaded once more, she nodded. "They're in the centre of the city. I'll have an agent drop you down there before they take him away." she nods.

Before you know it, you're running across the field, through the barriers and hesitant police, because nobody in the history of the world messes with someone running toward the one they've been a lover to. You stop just short of them, watching the famous faces of Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton -- with your own two eyes.

"Hell-o," Agent Natasha Romanoff grins, "You're _________, aren't you? Hill mentioned you were incoming."

You glance to Loki, whose eyes are back from blue to green, who is watching you expectantly over the mask, through the gap his burly brother Thor shared. "Could I speak with him? We were...close at one time."

The blonde Asgardian nods. "Yes. I have to him to Asgard for punishment very soon, so please, do not tarry." He urges, and releases the darker haired man from the mask across his mouth.

He flexes his jaw, yawns, and almost at once, falls to his knees before you, like a priest worshipping their god, or pantheon.

"I still love you," you tell him, voice soft like the breeze threading its fingers through your hair. "I think I know you were under the influence of something beyond my understanding, well, because you weren't you at all, and - please don't leave me." you utter, falling to your knees too.

Loki nods. "I will be punished for my crimes upon Asgardian soil for that here on Midgard." he tells you, voice solid. "But I shall return. This I vow, because you are a soul I will never find a likeness to, a gem in a rare trove of treasure." his words sway you like they always do. "I love you too, my _______."

And with that, he is gone.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

#loki #loki mcu #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki/reader #loki laufeyson/reader #loki laufeyson x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #chaotic--lovely #pendragonfics #Female reader

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