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singularity-sam · 26 days

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Insane Stories From Belobog's Trash Cans - Volume 3: The Curious Case of the Missing Child

(Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of kidnapping, depictions of bullying/negligence/cheating, and unfunny cringe attempts at humor throughout.)

While adventuring on the Xianzhou Luofu for their Trailblazing expeditions one day, the Nameless had their exploration routine interrupted by a sudden yet urgent request from the Realm-Keeping Commission. Concerned, Stelle, March 7th, and Welt all ventured to the commission’s main office to see what the issue was. Once they arrived, they met with Dahao, who informed them of the situation.

“Thanks for coming! All of you are the only ones we can rely upon to solve this problem.”, he stated, “Putting your past aid aside, this is quite a serious request I have for you all…” Welt nodded and replied with: “What is it…? We Nameless are happy to help you with anything.” “Yeah! You can count on us!”, March 7th said. Dahao thought for a second before saying, “Good. Well, um… It’s like this: A young Vidyadhara boy went missing a few hours ago. His friends reported him being escorted away by a stranger he briefly talked to, so now it’s a suspected kidnapping case…”, with a serious expression.

Feeling saddened by the tragic request, March 7th commented: “Oh no, that’s terrible! Is there anything we can do?” Welt, on the other hand, just solemnly nodded. “We would take care of it ourselves, but…”, Dahao trailed off, “Ever since the Ambrosial Arbor crisis resolved itself, we’ve been swamped with so much work. And seeing that the Astral Express crew is so reliable with helping us out in the past, I thought that you could help find this missing child. …Will you assist us?”

A brief moment passed before Stelle decided to answer his question and speak for the first time since stepping into the office. “Don’t worry, the Galactic Baseballer is on the case! Any kidnappers will have to answer to my bat hitting their face!”, she passionately said while pointing at herself. Not being put off by her usual antics, March 7th pumped her fist and said: “Ha, yeah! That’s right!” Welt shook his head and stated, “Please… try to take this more seriously. This is an abduction we’re dealing with…”, as a response. He then looked back at Dahao and asked: “So… Where should we start our search?”

He scratched his chin for a moment, contemplating what information to give to them. “I knew I could count on you! If I were you, I’d recommend searching…”, he answered, “...in Central Starskiff Haven. That’s where the kid was last seen, and his friends should still be there. I’d say you should interview them to gather evidence.” “I see… Thank you for your time. Let’s go, everyone…”, Welt said. March 7th, continuing her enthusiasm, loudly proclaimed: “Okay! We’re off to catch a kidnapper!” All three of the Nameless proceeded to start walking out of the door in the office, to begin their investigation. Dahao waved them off and said, “Good luck out there.”, with a sincere tone. And so, they headed for their destination, eagerly wanting to help this missing child…

…

Upon arriving at Central Starskiff Haven, the Trailblazers quickly searched for the missing kid’s friends. Soon enough, they found them. After some brief questioning, they were pointed in a possible direction. One of the friends, a young Vidyadhara girl explained further with: “I didn’t get a good look at the stranger, since they were too far away from where we were playing. All I saw was them leading our friend away while we were distracted. I dunno what’s gonna happen to him, so please find him!”

“Don’t worry, little one. We’ll find him, for sure!”, March 7th said in a comforting manner. “Did any of you see what direction they were heading in?”, Welt further inquired, “If you can tell us that, then we’ll be more likely to find him…” This led to another one of the children to speak up, a Foxian boy this time. He pointed to an exit across the Starskiff lane bridge and said, “That way! It looked like they were heading towards Aurum Alley. …I hope this helps.”, with a nervous expression. March 7th nodded encouragingly, saying: “You bet it does! Let’s start movin’ and find this kid, guys!” Motivated by her optimism, the three of them then started to go to the next place in their search.

…

Entering Aurum Alley, March 7th and Welt spent a few moments looking around, it was the first time they had been there (Stelle had already been there numerous times before, by revitalizing the entire location). No longer being able to contain her excitement, March 7th raised her voice, saying, “My, oh my! Hey Mr. Yang, can we stop and get some food from the stalls over there? I hear the food here is s’posed to be delicious! I need a break from all this walking…”, while pointing at the food stalls and jumping up and down. Unsure of what to say to that at first, Welt adjusted his glasses and said: “Let’s… wait until we finish our mission. The child we're looking for could be in grave danger, and I know that feeling of worrying over children… Once we’re done, then I’ll treat you all to whatever you want from here, I promise.” She gave him a thumbs up in response. “Yay, thanks! This’ll be awesome!”, she exclaimed, “Now, what do we do from here?” “Let’s ask some of the people around here to see if they have any information on the child’s whereabouts…”, he replied.

Stelle looked all over her surroundings, trying to find someone she recognized. Then, her eyes landed on a familiar face: Bailu, who was standing next to a lone food stall with pleading eyes, as if she wanted food really badly. Stelle thought she would know something about their predicament, so she approached her with determination in her steps. The other two followed after seeing this. March 7th smiled and waved once she was within speaking distance of her. “Oh, it’s the Dragon Lady. Hey, there!”, she said to her. “Huh…? Oh, it’s you three! The ones who helped me before.”, Bailu greeted them, “What brings you here? I’m just trying to get my hands on some food from here. It would be really worthwhile, since I escaped from the Alchemy Commission once again to come all the way here…”

Taken aback by her answer, Welt stuttered a bit before speaking to her: “Um… W-We have been… sent by the Realm-Keeping Commission to find a missing Vidyadhara boy, who may have been abducted by someone older. Have you seen a pair of people matching that description…?” She pondered for a moment, her dragon tail swaying back and forth, before replying with, “I dunno… It’s hard to say. What’s in it for me?”, in a cheeky tone. March 7th, who remained undeterred by Bailu’s negotiation tactics, skillfully compromised with an idea of her own. “If ya tell us, we’ll buy ya a burger from the food stall over there! Won’t that be enough?”, she offered. “YOU WILL!? Yaay~!”, she gasped while squealing in delight, “I guess I’ll tell you everything I know, then!” Welt nodded and smiled, a rare sight for him, and he said: “Exceptional work, March. That was some good negotiation skills.”

Bailu scratched the side of her head before proceeding to share some information by stating, “Here’s what I know: I saw that kid being dragged around to some of the food stalls by this grownup. They both bought and ate some food together, before they left Aurum Alley to go somewhere else. I’m so jealous of them, that food looked so good!”, with a reflective face. “Grownup…?”, Stelle asked with a serious expression, “Did you recognize who it was?” Bailu tapped her horns in a childish way to remember any forgotten details. She then gasped and elaborated with: “...Oh yeah, I remember now! It was someone I’ve seen before. I can’t remember her name, though… If my memories are right, then she’s from the Divination Commission. I’m pretty sure of that!”

The three Trailblazers were lost in their own speculative thoughts after hearing that. “The Divination Commission? Why there? Hm, we’re so close to figuring who this kidnapper is! It’s gotta be easy from here on out…”, March 7th said once she got sick of the silence. “Ahem, where’s my burger? You promised me!”, Bailu said in annoyance, “I held up my end of the bargain, now you must do yours. Please hurry it up, I’m starving here~!” But, before anyone else could say or do anything in response, Stelle’s phone received a text message notification. She pulled it out of her coat pocket and saw that it was from Dahao. Realizing its importance, she bluntly stated: “Hold on. I have to respond to this. It’s kinda urgent.” She didn’t bother waiting for the others’ reactions, so she started to read the message and tap out responses to it.

Dahao: Important update in the investigation!

The missing child has been spotted wandering

with his abductor into the Divination Commission.

One of our workers reported it. They are still

there right now. You should rush over there to

stop them!

Stelle: …

Stelle: Damn bro, that’s crazy

Dahao: If you hurry, you can still rescue the

child. Take my advice and go!

Stelle: OK, on my way

Welt, who had been intensely staring at the chat messaging along with March 7th, looked back up at the group and said, “Well… I suppose we know where we need to go next. We should make haste, while we can…”, while tapping his cane on the ground. Stretching and sighing in preparation, March 7th responded with: “Might as well… Sorry, Miss Bailu, you’ll have to take a rain check on your burger. But I swear I’ll make it up to you, just you wait! Anywho, let’s get over to the Divination Commission, pronto! We gotta save the day once again!” Stelle nodded and put her phone away, putting on her more deadpan expression that she uses when she attempts (and fails) to be more serious.

As the three of them speed-walked to the exit of Aurum Alley, Bailu became slightly bewildered and upset. “Hey, where are you going!? I haven’t got my food yet!”, she complained loudly, “Now I’ll have to go back to the Alchemy Commission empty-handed. Hmph… You better not forget about your makeup promise now, you hear me!?” The others silently acknowledged her, but they were too focused on the potential confrontation ahead. They were just relieved that the crisis they got themselves into was finally going to end soon, at the Divination Commission…

…

At the Matrix of Prescience in the center of the Divination Commission, Master Diviner Fu Xuan and Qingque stood across from each other while conversing… with the missing Vidyadhara boy standing in between the two of them! “What is the meaning of this?”, Fu Xuan asked with a skeptical tone, “And why did you bring this child here with you?”

Approaching from the stairs leading up to the platform where this was all happening, the Nameless spotted the conversation and halted in place, wanting to eavesdrop on the situation’s reasoning. “Huh? Miss Qingque? Wait a sec, don’t tell me she…”, March 7th said with disappointment in her voice. Welt stood in place and replied with: “Let’s hear them out before we make any rash judgments.” Stelle then took his advice and stared at the perpetrators. Despite their open-mindedness, they all knew who kidnapped the missing child, so they waited for the explanation.

Tapping her feet anxiously, Qingque then proceeded to place her left hand on the child’s shoulder while saying, “This is my… kid! Yeah. I just had him not too long ago, so… I would like to request some time off work for maternity leave! I’d say about two years is good, since raisin’ a child’s not easy. I’ve been hard at work lately, and givin’ birth to my beautiful son here has put quite a bit of strain on me, y’know? Pretty please? Some rest from this job is needed for me to raise him properly in order for him to become a successful adult. Think of it as a favor for all the decades I’ve reliably worked here…”, with a mix of both mischievous and pseudo-serious expressions. The awkward and cringey silence that followed was swiftly filled by her leaning down and whispering in the child's ear: “Psst… Hey kid, do ya mind backing up my story here? I need it to sound more convincing.” The boy nodded nervously before speaking up. “That’s right, she’s my mommy! And she has to take care of me.”, he said while hugging her in an unconvincing attempt to fake affection, “Also, make sure she’s paid for her time off, since she needs to use the money to play Celest-... I mean, to give me a proper education so I can grow up to be whatever I want!”

Fu Xuan was not impressed. She just sighed and shook her head in aggravation after hearing the bogus explanations. “Really? You have got to be joking. Even I, the master diviner, could not foresee this… Never have I ever expected for you to make up a lie as ridiculous as this.”, she said. Before Qingque could rebut her, Fu Xuan countered her with: “Do not try to protest it, as your little narrative has many problems that show its flaws. For example… You claimed you “gave birth” to this child, but you have never shown any signs of being pregnant. What is your excuse this time?” Qingque scratched her head before saying, “Umm… Well, you’ve never noticed ‘cuz I’m… at the loafing gate so much, yeah! I’ve just been slackin’ off lately due to me preparing for my son’s arrival.”, in a deceptive tone. Ignoring her leaps in logic, the master diviner continued to deconstruct her argument. “Not only that, this child of yours is quite grown and developed for being born “only recently” before.”, she stated, “Add that with the fact that you are too young to have a child this old, and it weakens your fib even further…”

Feeling frustrated at being berated, Qingque then quietly said to herself: “I’m too young? Well you’re barely an adult yourself…” Fu Xuan overheard this and she stomped her feet in anger, losing control of her emotions for a moment. “Wh-What was that…!!??”, she yelled. Qingque shrugged and replied, “Nothin’ at all, boss!”, as an answer. The master diviner proceeded to take a deep breath and regained her composure. “Regardless… There is one undeniable fact that you have not considered that cannot be refuted, since it is common knowledge.”, she argued conclusively, “This child that stands before me is one of the Vidyadhara, who do not have biological parents; their entire species is centered around reincarnation. With this, your argument is voided!”

Despite being proven wrong, Qingque was not dissuaded from her goal. Through a mix of denial and stubbornness, she compromised with: “Hm… Ya got me there! And you’re right, I adopted this boy instead. I only lied about it so you would be more sympathetic, as there’s a stigma against adoptive parents…” Not seeing why Fu Xuan was upset at her, her deflective comment was followed up with Qingque saying, “But my request still stands. I wanna get some time off work so I can raise him properly. C’mon, please? If ya make it paid leave, I promise I’ll come back to this job and work extra hard once my two years of absence are finished~! And I’m DEFINITELY not lying this time!”, with a devilish grin. Fu Xuan put her hand on her forehead after hearing her comeback, feeling nauseated from her employee’s antics. “Ugh… You do not understand at all… Your words are NEVER trustworthy! Besides not ever taking responsibility in your career, your track record is pretty poor. For that, no, I will not grant your request…”, she complained, “Which makes me wonder all this time after listening to your pathetic excuses: Where did this child come from? Why did you choose him for your scheme, assuming you did adopt him…?”

“This child was abducted from Central Starskiff Haven while he was distracted from spending time with his friends. We were sent by the Realm-Keeping Commission to find him…”, Welt said in reply. The three Nameless walked over from the stairs to where the other three were standing as he said this. Fu Xuan turned around, asking: “We all meet again… What you said just now, is it true?” “‘Course it is! We worked our butts off all day to find the kidnapper on this wild goose chase!”, March 7th interrogated, “So, how ‘bout it, Miss Qingque? Why’d ya kidnap this child? You gotta tell us, if ya don’t wanna get thrown into the Shackling Prison!”

Qingque laughed awkwardly at the accusations. Realizing how much serious trouble she could be in, she answered, “Hey c’mon, don’t gimme that glaring look! I didn’t kidnap him, honest! I just bribed him with some delicious Aurum Alley food in exchange for his consented cooperation in my plan. I also was gonna show him how to play Celestial Jade after I got the paid leave. I was gonna bring him right back to his friends after I was done, I swear! I didn’t realize I kept him for this long, or that this counted as kidnapping… So, please spare me, I didn’t know any better!”, as a self-justification comment that didn’t sound very convincing for alleviating her of her crimes. She then turned to the child and said: “Hey, back me up here.” The now-found missing child nodded and spoke up in an unsure tone. “That’s right… Though, I was never told about the Celestial Jade part of it…”, he said.

Seeing that Qingque was only digging her grave even deeper, Stelle finally decided to say something about how the issue was turning out. She took both of her hands, turned them straight up so the fingers pointed forward, reeled them back before using them to point in front of her, and only said one word in the process towards her: “Boi…” While no one reacted to her memey response, Fu Xuan spoke up to give Qingque her judgment. “Your intention does not matter, the result of it does…”, she said in a judgmental tone, “Your actions are still considered to be abduction, and that is quite serious… And you committed this atrocity all for not wanting to do your job.”

She proceeded to cross her arms in resentment while she continued her monologue. “First, you faked having a heart attack last week… And now, this!”, she stated while reminiscing about said incident. She shook her head and said, “Your methods for slacking off are becoming increasingly more desperate! This is a sad sight to see, and now you must be punished for it. I cannot allow you any more pardons from them…”, while her face became more serious. Now feeling uneased by her intense demeanor, Qingque audibly gulped and asked: “...So, what now? Ya gonna fire me…? Or send me to prison…?”

In a surprising turn of events, Fu Xuan decided to give out a different punishment than what was expected from the average criminal (since Qingque is not “average” at all). “Nope. As your higher-up, I need to have some mercy on you. Sending you to the Shackling Prison will not do you any good, since confinement won’t get you to learn from your mistakes. There was a slight misunderstanding surrounding the abduction anyway…”, she explained, “And I will not fire you, either. If I were to do that, you would just laze around and not find any more work, putting your life and your family’s in jeopardy. In short, it will not fix your slacking problem…”

The solution seemed to arrive as a few Cloud Knights stepped into the Matrix of Prescience, their sights set on apprehending Qingque. “For your punishment, you shall spend the next two years working monitored, unpaid overtime. You will need to diligently work extra hours while security watches you until the sentence is over. Also, you will be forbidden from playing Celestial Jade during this period. This is all done so you cannot escape and continue slacking off in the future. And by doing so, I hope I can help you become more responsible and not resort to your rash way of handling things… Now, take her away to work right now, guards!”, she commanded with integrity.

Two Cloud Knights then proceeded to walk over to Qingque and they began to restrain her. Freaking out, she started to protest and feel more guilty about her actions than before, saying: “Wait up, hold on a second! You can’t take my precious Celestial Jade away from me. I single handedly revived that game from obscurity, it’s my pride and joy! I need it to live! C’mon Xuany, let’s talk about this! I promise I won’t ever slack off again, just don’t force me to do this, please…” Fu Xuan just scoffed at her disrespectful nickname and gestured for the Cloud Knights to escort her to the nearby teleporter instead. Qingque tried in futility to resist, kicking and screaming like a toddler, then finally shouting, “Nooo!! I don’t wanna work and be productive! You should’ve just fired me instead! Please, save meee…!!”, just as she and her guards reached the teleporter. Once they entered it, they all vanished from sight, deeper into the Divination Commission where she will be put to work.

Without a second of hesitation after making her worker suffer, the master diviner turned to the child and said: “This Cloud Knight will escort you back to your friends. Do not worry, you are safe now. Be careful around strangers from now on…” One last remaining Cloud Knight stood next to the boy, who could only say, “...Thanks…”, awkwardly in response. The Vidyadhara boy had seen too much that day and never expected any of it. Due to feeling confused and wary from seeing Qingque and Fu Xuan’s long winded argument, he couldn’t say any more. And so, he then proceeded to follow the Cloud Knight away and up the stairs, so he could see his friends one more. He didn’t even look back at the Nameless, the original ones who were supposed to rescue him, but because of unusual circumstances, couldn't at that time…

Stunned by how quickly and strangely the issue resolved itself, Welt was the only one who could break his silence to finish up the investigation. “So… At least it ended well, mostly…”, he stuttered out, “Do you… need any more help, perhaps, Miss Fu Xuan?” He didn’t get much of a reply back, since she was already starting to focus back on her duties and clean up the incident’s aftermath. “No. You have done more than enough by informing me of what happened. I shall take care of reporting about the investigation's conclusion to the Realm-Keeping Commission myself, personally. I will get in touch with Dahao later… Thank you all for your assistance in this matter, and I hope your futures have good fortune… Now, I must get back to work.”, she said. She then faced the Matrix of Prescience fully, not paying attention to anything else; she was a hard-worker like always.

Now currently having the weight of the case lifted from their shoulders, the Nameless relaxed and became talkative again. March 7th sighed and wiped her brow, commenting: “Whew… Glad that’s over! Who would’ve thought that a loafer like Miss Qingque was behind this whole scheme? It seems kinda comical in retrospect. But at least the kid’s safe, that’s what matters!” Welt nodded and adjusted his glasses while replying with, “Indeed. No one got hurt, either. That’s something we should celebrate…”, in a relieved tone.

This revived a dormant seed within her head, so she perked up and smiled brightly once more. “Ah, I just remembered! You promised us food after we finished this.”, she recalled, “Well, now’s the time to use that for our celebration for saving a child! Even if we didn’t actually do it… Still, I’m hungry as heck and I can’t wait any longer! And we should get Miss Bailu’s burger, too! Just like I said we would…” He then smiled for the first time in a long while, glad to have a chance to relax for once. “Heh… Alright, alright. I promised you, so I must fulfill it. Let’s head back to Aurum Alley, pick out whatever you like. Just… don’t get sick.”, he said. She raised her hand in the air and shouted, “Yay!!!”, in response happily. Stelle, who was too focused on her trash can-related fantasies to be fully paying attention, just nodded and stoically said: “Let’s go. Make sure to give any trash to the Galactic Baseballer for enlightenment purposes! I need it after being trolled so hard today…”

Then, they all left the Divination Commission without another word. No one was ever in the mood for Stelle’s unhinged comments. And with that, nearly everything was back to how it was before, and the Xianzhou Luofu got closer to full recovery. All the people (including the child) had a great rest of the day, except for Qingque, who was now forced to scrub the floors as punishment. Even still, she continued to fantasize about slacking off and playing Celestial Jade. So, as another “last ditch” effort, she decided she was going to fake her own death next to get out of the overtime labor… Of course, it won’t end well for her, and that’s a fact.

[Writer’s Commentary: For this story, I tried to replicate it as if it were an actual side quest that players would receive while playing the game. That’s why I went for the whole investigative angle and text message recreation attempt. Whether this actually worked out or not, I can’t say, but that’s what writing is for: Experimenting and challenging yourself! I chose Qingque as the culprit because she’s one of my favorite characters, and I feel like she would go this far to not do her job at some point (and because I’m biased). Also, I didn’t give the missing child a name or much dialogue because I am lazy… Anyway, that’s all for now. Good day!]

#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail #hsr #star rail #stelle #trailblazer #march 7th #welt yang #qingque #fu xuan #hsr bailu #dahao #crack fic #crack #oneshot

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bumblewarden · 2 years

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Deeply obsessed with the idea of

In a Companion Novhen AU, it is unlikely for it to become legal for elves to wield weapons except in the case of the alienage becoming independent or maybe if Alistair rules

And as a hahren, Novhen is concerned with keeping peace for the alienage and representing any troublemakers, and with the ban on weapons still in place, it definitely will not do for him to reveal why he was allowed to travel with the HoF. Besides, he understands very well that you should resolve issues nonviolently when possible

It goes mostly forgotten that he's a skilled fighter. Most of the elves were never brought in on the loop. His children are trained in secret, and without legal independence, he has no militia to train. He's just an elf with some well hidden blades, so nobody expects him to know exactly how to use them

[Canon typical violence below the cut]

Until we have one winter day, Novhen is out of the alienage for one reason or another that surely won't matter in an hour, and he finds one of his elven charges, far too young to be unaccompanied in the human part of the city, being threatened by a human in an alley.

It's obvious he has to step in, but words alone are unlikely to be able to deescalate this scene. He feels the weight of his hidden daggers under his coat as he joins into the shadows.

Now you are the other elf. You were out alone, being young and foolish, and now, you are trapped. The air begins to fill with thick smoke. You don't have time to question it because as the first fist flies towards you, your attacker suddenly falls sideways.

Behind where the assailant once stood is the hahren. He had pulled up a mask which covered half of his face, but you only needed the one half to recognize him. He ushers you out of the alley. You obey. You run just outside it and take refuge on the corner where you can still hear the muffled proceedings and peer down the way.

Hahren Novhen had pinned the human to the ground and is holding... something against his throat. It's hard to see through all the smoke. He whispers threats that don't fully reach your ears. He retreats the dagger back underneath the folds of his clothing and stands. The human follows suit and runs away in the opposite direction with a pronounced limp you are certain wasn't there before.

The hahren leaves the alley towards you. As he pulls his mask back down to the scarf around his neck, he smiles reassuringly. He asks if you’re alright and promises the attacker never saw his face or ears and isn't likely to bring this back to the alienage. You smell blood on him.

Alternatively,

Set Dressing: Shadows over Denerim war table mission, Alistair is king, queen situation agnostic, Novhen is hahren and former Companion but not Inquisitor

The Inquisition has sent over two of their spies to rout out the Venatori infiltrators in the royal palace. The junior spy was a short human with a quick step and forgettable face that blended in easily with the waves of servants.

Unfortunately, the king and his elven friend insisted on involving themselves as well. The elf, allegedly a hahren, wasn't too bad. He admittedly has some skill for intelligence and was well trusted by the staff, but she nonetheless preferred for outside hands to stay away from her work.

The king was the real nuisance. Every time she passed him, he asked for updates and if it were time to fly in swords drawn. Surely, he had something better to be doing.

On Thursday morning, she found the Venatori. She monitored them across Friday, Saturday until she was confident she had identified all of them. Wouldn't want to tip them off that they've been spotted before she was ready to make her move. Sunday, the senior spy brought their findings to the king, and with unconcealed excitement, he rushed alongside them to the kitchens with the hahren trailing at the back.

The junior spy tried to discourage the elf. While he was far from a foot in the grave, it was doubtful he would even know which way to point the sword. Besides, surely the alienage would be distraught if their leader were killed? The king may not be able to be bossed around, but this hahren? She acted only in his best interests.

She only relented on the matter when her senior agent stepped in and declared the elf could follow. She agreed with an expectation that she would not be sticking her neck out for him once he realizes he’s bitten off more than he can chew. The king and hahren took this in stride with a sly smile passing between them. The junior spy rolled her eyes and pressed forward to the kitchen. The sooner this mission was over with, the better.

The fight was sudden. The junior spy drew her sword and cleared through her opponents.

Out of the corner of her eye, the king was carving a swathe through the eastern half of the kitchen. She fell behind her comrades and let her eyes drift further. The hahren was nowhere in sight. Best case scenario, that meant he realized he was out of his league and dipped.

Something was next to her.

She dove to her right, and a sword arched over where her head had been. She caught herself on her back foot, and the Venatori raised his dagger and makeshift shield.

As he did, he shuddered onto his knees. The hahren had appeared next to him. He had swung down a curved blade on the Venatori's shield arm and held another dagger to his throat. Before the Venatori could process his new situation, the elf pushed him forward and dug the dagger across his neck as he went. Before the body reached the floor, he was back by the king's side.

She watched the elf flicker around the king as they took turns distracting opponents with the fluency of a pendulum’s swing. In a move similar to what he had just practiced on her own Venatori assailant, he tore down the baking sheet shield of another Venatori as the king finished the job and impaled them on his sword.

That was the last of them.

The senior spy doused the brewing fire on her shoulder with a carafe of water and thanked the king and hahren for their aid in the fight, describing it as closer than she would have liked.

The junior spy sidled up next to the hahren.

"You could have mentioned you could fight,” she said.

"Did the Nightingale not mention that in your briefing?" he replied.

It was impossible to tell from his tone if he meant it as a genuine question or a tease.

---

Anyway anyway, i think i need to take these, tidy them up a bit, and turn them into a proper fic. Maybe add one more in for rule of three. Maybe he can actually use his bow in that one

I've needed to start the non-canon Novhen series/receptacle for a while now

#novhen tabris #alistair theirin #au: companion novhen

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motownfiction · 5 months

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no ghost in the graveyard

Colleen O’Connor has a thing about cemeteries. On every road trip, she makes her whole family – all six children – visit at least one. This summer, on a road trip to visit some semi-distant relatives in Rochester, New York, she makes them stop at a cemetery to see Susan B. Anthony.

Will, who is sixteen now, has had just about enough.

“Mom, no!” he shouts from the backseat.

“What’s the matter?” Colleen asks. “I didn’t think you hated the cemetery that much.”

“I hate them,” Molly, who’s ten, says. “You don’t even let us play ‘There’s no ghost in the graveyard.’”

“Because it’s disrespectful. Will, honey, what’s the matter with you?”

“I don’t want to see Susan B. Anthony’s grave like this!” he says. “Bad enough I have to be away from Lucy for five days … now I’m gonna go see Susan B. Anthony’s grave without her, too? She’s gonna kill me!”

“If she does, then you’ll get to meet Susan B. Anthony,” Sarah, recent high school graduate, snarks.

“Shut up, Sarah,” Will says. “You didn’t even have to go on this trip.”

“And pay for my own food? For almost an entire week? I’ll pass, man.”

In spite of Will’s protests, they end up at the cemetery to see Susan B. Anthony. Will is resolved not to get anywhere near the headstone – not without Lucy. Molly grabs Claire and Sophie and tries to force them into playing there’s no ghost in the graveyard. Will and Sarah hang behind, staying as far away from the rest of the O’Connors as possible.

They walk in lockstep. Will keeps his eyes on the dirt beneath him, trying not to think about everything there. He takes a beat before asking Sarah the first thing that comes to mind.

“You think anyone’s ever died here?”

Sarah snorts.

“It’s a fucking cemetery, man,” she says. “We’re the weird ones for being alive.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean … do you think anybody ever dropped dead during a burial? Like they couldn’t take it and died of a broken heart or something.”

Sarah shakes her head.

“Broken heart, no,” she says. “Heat exhaustion, sure.”

Will nods, but he’s not really sure why. He’s just thinking about Lucy. Before he got in the car for this stupid trip, he kissed her on her porch and told her he wished she could go with him. If only she knew how much he meant it now. If only he knew how much he’d mean it then. He thinks about the night before they left … how pretty Lucy looked, lit up by the moon coming in through the blinds. They weren’t listening to “There’s a Moon out Tonight,” but with how beautiful she was, they should have been.

The next few words fly out of Will’s mouth a little too quickly.

“Sarah?”

“What now?”

“You know I … I had sex with Lucy last month.”

Sarah inhales like she just bashed her knee against that stupid too-big coffee table Mom and Dad just installed in the living room. Will knows that exact sound because they’ve all made it at least five times apiece.

“Hmm,” she says. “First time?”

“Yeah.”

“You OK?”

Will nods.

“OK,” Sarah says. “Is she?”

“Yeah,” Will says. “We’re … I dunno, I guess we really are OK.”

Sarah nods. She looks like she’s far away … like maybe she’s about to become the next ghost in the graveyard.

“I’m sorry,” Will says. “I didn’t mean … I just felt like I needed to tell somebody who wasn’t Sam or Daniel. You were the only other person who made sense.”

“It’s OK,” Sarah says, and Will thinks he mostly believes her. “Just don’t die. Or get her pregnant. But mostly don’t die.”

“OK,” Will says. “But if I die, I’ll make sure it happens in a cemetery. That way, you won’t have to waste any time in burying me.”

“I think it’s cute you think I wouldn’t throw you right in the furnace.”

“Yeah.”

They walk in silence a little while longer. Thank goodness.

#drabble #writeblr #ch: will o'connor #ch: sarah o'connor #year: 1983 #heretofore unpublished #been sitting a long time

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tryst-art-archive · 1 year

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November 2010: "Options"

You are young and stupid and sensitive, and your head is full of idealism mixed with inexperienced cynicism. Every horror story you have ever heard – men only want sex! rapists are usually friends of the women! children of divorces have trouble maintaining relationships! men frequently cheat! the human race wasn’t made to be monogamous! first relationships don’t last! – has blended with every fantasy that has been laid out before you – true love knows no bounds! it'll be love at first sight! if you try hard enough it will work out! as long as you love each other, everything will be happily ever after! give him everything and he’ll give everything back! – has combined into one set of utterly unrealistic expectations: the man who should be an idealized Mister Darcy but is, by his nature, going to break your heart fifty ways from Sunday using every trick in the book.

Between this set of expectations and your incompatibility with your ill-advised first love, you have become quite miserable. So as you kneel in your basement, weeping and screaming silently to the cosmos about the injustice of a man’s desire for some semblance of independence, you have some options.

A: Continue on.

You can swallow the pain. It will eat you alive from the inside out, you know, but you know how to stay quiet. You can swallow it and wait for things to improve. Perhaps if you wait long enough, he will be the Mister Darcy you were planning on marrying instead of the Neanderthal that he is.

And so you wait. You eat your pain, and you continue on as if nothing has happened. Your would-be-Darcy is oblivious, and he makes the same mistakes he ever did. But you say not a word, making your own mistakes, until you can no longer hold it in. You explode, a sun, your wrath knowing no bounds. He is consumed in the fire of your wrath as is your dignity, your respectability. You cast him away from yourself, refusing that you ever liked him at all, and your first relationship is over. You are the villain. He wins the friends for keeping a cool head in the face of what now appears to be your clingy madness.

You cling to the few friends you have left, and you go to college. You make new friends, and you move on, and isn’t that fellow who frequents your work cute?

B: Fight.

You aren’t about to hold this in. You’re more miserable than you’ve ever been in your life, which may or may not be saying something objectively, but to you it’s a significant note. You lash out, therefore. You argue with him, you demand that he change, and you deliver ultimatums. None of these things help, and you come near to breaking it off, but you find that you can’t look him in the face and tell him it’s over, and so you continue on, arguing. You argue dully for seven months, and then you find something to truly complain about: He is in love with his supposed best friend, and you can tell.

You spend the last month watching as he seduces her. At the end of it, he tells you he is breaking up with you. You’re fine with that. You make it real. He hooks up with the once-best-friend immediately, destroying any possibility of friendship, and winning you the friends. You mope for a bit, then throw yourself into your friendships and move on with your life, and isn’t that fellow who frequents your work cute?

C: End it.

You’ve had enough of this. He’s pushed you too far, or perhaps you’ve pushed yourself too far, and you’re done living like this. You’d always said you wouldn’t break up with someone without looking them in the face, but you’re too miserable for petty details to change your resolve. You need to do this now. You call him, and you end it even though he is in tears. Your lives continue to intersect uncomfortably, but the awkwardness passes and perhaps you aren’t friends, but you can at least exchange a hello without unnecessary malice. No one loses any friends that they didn’t want to lose anyway.

You feel empowered by your action, and so you mope for a short time but are ultimately pleased with yourself. You move on with your life, and isn’t that fellow that frequents your work cute?

#old writing #writing archive #assignments #10s #2010 #Age 19 #relationships #choose your own adventure #angst

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chemicalpink · 3 years

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Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really, who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #bts imagines #btshoneyhive #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtansorciere

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guzhuangheaven · 3 years

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Guzhuang Appreciation Month: badass dialogues

(but in the novel)

legend of ruyi :: ep 5 // ep 78

This drama is so amazing, demonstrated by these two scenes. Here you have Ruyi and Hongli watching the same play at two different stages in their lives. In episode 5, they are still clearly in love and are happy watching the play together, leaning lovingly against each other and moving in unison as one. They are also being watched fondly by Aruo, who has yet to have ideas of betraying Ruyi. Many years later, in episode 78, we have Ruyi and Hongli watching the same play, but they are physically far apart and their emotional distance from each other is also clear on their faces. They are literally being divided by the presence of Ling Yunche standing between them.

I find the parallel between the closeups of Aruo and Ling Yunche the most heartbreaking, because Aruo, despite how happy she looks for them in ep 5, would eventually try to break Ruyi and Hongli apart. And yet for all her efforts, she never succeeds because Hongli never actually believes her. On the other hand, Ling Yunche never tries to get in between Ruyi and Hongli, but just the mere presence of him is enough for Hongli to drive a wedge between himself and Ruyi. The presence of Aruo and Ling Yunche in this scene drives home the stark contrast in how the relationship has deteriorated between Ruyi and Hongli, and how Hongli went from trusting Ruyi despite all evidence against her to believing the worst of her despite no real evidence.

What is even more heartbreaking is the play they are watching. It’s not made very clear in the drama, but the plot of the play has great significance in the novel. The play they are watching is called 墙头马上 / Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. The play is based on the poem 井底引银瓶 Silver Vase at the Bottom of the Well by Bai Juyi.

The poem by Bai Juyi, writes of a broken relationship/friendship where two people once lived happily in harmony, then one person wronged the other, causing the other person to leave and never come back; the relationship is thus severed.

When the poem was adapted into the play 墙头马上 / Over the Wall and Atop a Horse, the play tells the story of Pei Shaojun falling in love at first sight with Li Qianjin when she was standing by a wall and he was on a horse riding by her house. The two then eloped, and lived together for seven years, having two children together, before they were discovered by Pei Shaojun’s father. Upon the discovery, Li Qianjin was condemned for getting into a clandestine relationship and Pei Shaojun caved to parental pressure and divorced her. She went back to her hometown. Many years later, after having achieved political success, Pei Shaojun went looking for Li Qianjin again, and just happened to discover that the two of them were actually engaged as children. In the play, they then reunited, got remarried and lived happily ever after.

There is however a plot point in the Ruyi novel, where Qingying does not like the ending of the play, feeling that the happy ending was forced. In the novel, Hongli and Qingying only know each other in passing at first. Then on the day that Hongli chooses his wives, Qingying is made to attend by her aunt. Before the selection ceremony, everyone is invited to watch a play, and Hongli chooses Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. Qingying, because she dislikes the happy ending, asks the theatre troupe to change the ending of the play so that in the end, Li Qianjin does not actually get back together with Pei Shaojun but stays firm in her resolve to end the relationship between them. After the play ends, Qingying leaves before the selection, but Hongli becomes intrigued by her changed ending and chases after her. This conversation below ensues, in which you can see clearly how Qingying’s belief on the matter stayed constant with her through the years. In fact, she practically predicts her own fate later with her changed ending.

~*~

Qingying stepped lightly ahead, her gown fluttering in the breeze like a white butterfly in flight. Aruo’s face was robbed of all colour and she was crying in despair. “Gege, what is wrong with you? Everything was well, why did you change the ending of the play? If Huang Hou Niang Niang hears about it, what will you do?”

Qingying shrugged. “At most, Aunt will just scold me a little. I just don’t like that ending. Today, I finally got to see how it should be played out. I’m so happy!”

“Gege might be happy,” Aruo said miserably, “but today is the consort selection. If Gege you are not chosen, then what would we do?”

Qingying’s aunt had already intended her to be the Third Prince’s bride, and now that was not successful, she should be pushed to the Fourth Prince instead? If they needed this one forced marriage to prolong their family’s glory, would that mean all women of the Ulanara clan were little better than slaves? It would be better this way. Regardless of whether she succeeded at being chosen to be a prince’s consort or not, she got to see things done her way, for once.

She only managed a few steps more when suddenly a voice called behind her. “Qingying Meimei!”

No one had ever called her that before. Everyone in the palace simply called her “Qingying Gege”. Curious, she turned her head to find that Hongli was chasing after her.

Thinking that he must wish to reprimand her, Qingying made herself as small as possible.

Hongli only laughed. “I chased after you to comfort you. Xiyue Gege was rude in speech, I feared that you would be offended.”

“Offended? About what?” Qingying asked in a low voice. “Fourth Prince, do you mean to mention the fact that I was rejected by the Third Prince?”

Hongli nodded, frowning. “I only fear such talk will destroy your reputation.”

Qingying laughed, all her teeth showing, against all rules of decorum, which seemed to astonish Hongli.

“I don’t care!” she declared. “There are many things that women can’t necessarily decide for themselves, such as marriage, or family. But at least, I can decide whether to mind those mocking talks, whether to care about them and let them hurt me.”

Hongli looked sad for a moment, whispering, “Your family…” But then he trailed off. Then, with a humourless smile, he said, “Over the Wall and Atop a Horse is the play I chose myself, why did you not like the ending and asked them to change it? I pick a plum blossom, lean against the wall. / You ride off among the bending poplars*. Is that not a lovely image?”

“Yes, it is very nice, it’s just…” Qingying thought a moment then said, “Over the wall and atop a horse we gaze at each other. / I know you, too, must be heartbroken*. From this beginning, the play is full of conflicts, ups and downs, all very compelling, yet in the end, there is a forced happy ending, everyone is forced to be happy, I really don’t like it at all.”

[* excerpts from the poem by Bai Juyi]

Hongli looked displeased, asking, “To be able to mend a broken mirror, husband and wife reunited and at peace again, is that not good?”

“When Li Qianjin was being insulted by Pei Shaojun’s parents, he did not protect her. He watched her leave in humiliation and did not stop her, as if all the love and years they shared did not matter. Such a heartless and weak man who dares not protect his woman, why would Li Qianjin want to get back together with him?”

Her voice was soft, but also full of conviction. Even though it went against Hongli’s beliefs, he wanted to keep her talking.

“To be reunited and together in harmony is the wishes of all families on earth. If Pei Shaojun is willing to start over, why would Li Qianjin not forgive him?”

“Why must a woman always forgive a man for his failings? Wouldn’t that teach the man that it doesn’t matter what hurt he causes? I don’t care, if he hurt her, she shouldn’t forgive him.”

“Women must be soft and gentle, and give into her husband. If she sacrifices a little, bears a little hurt feeling, they can be reunited, isn’t that happiness?”

“If she must be hurt, must sacrifice herself for this forced reunion, then it is already not a good marriage,” Qingying said stubbornly. “In my eyes, Li Qianjin is a woman who is willing to walk away, to severe the relationship, because all trust is gone.”

“If she walks away, wouldn’t that mean she spends the rest of her life alone? Everyone has their own difficult moments, if Li Qianjin is so stubborn, Pei Shaojun is put in a difficult position too.”

“Who isn’t in a difficult position?” Qingying asked. “If the woman can understand the man’s difficulties, can a man not understand a woman’s pain of being cast aside and humiliated?”

Hongli thought for a moment then laughed. “Qingying Meimei, you are much too unbending.”

Qingying merely nodded. “It’s better to live the rest of your life alone, rather than live to old age with someone who already betrayed you once. So it might be harmonious today, but if a conflict arises, what is to say Pei Shaojun will not just forsake Li Qianjin again? It is easy to change mountains**, that is the principle here.”

[** there is a Chinese saying that it is easier to change the course of rivers and shapes of mountains than to change the character of a person… aka old habits die hard but with more stakes.]

Hongli still did not agree with her logic. “Women should place obedience before all and be pliable. If she does not restrain herself and be more accepting for the greater good, then she would just suffer.”

“If one must accept being humiliated for a so-called happy ending, then I don’t want that kind of happy ending,” Qingying repeated.

“Then is Over the wall and atop a horse we gaze at each other so easily forgotten?” Hongli asked, astonished.

Qingyin turned and stared at Hongli. “If it is not easily forgotten, then why didn’t Pei Shaojun protect Li Qianjin? Hasn’t he too forgotten how they once loved each other when he cast her aside?”

Hongli could not argue against her, and finally admitted defeat. “Meimei, you really are something, I don’t know what else to say.”

Qingying laughed in delight.

“Meimei,” Hongli said, stepping closer to her, “you argued so animatedly, you must love Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. Why don’t we go back and hear the play again?”

Qingying hesitated, thinking that it would be a great loss of face if she were to return now. But Hongli was looking at her so earnestly, she found it hard to immediately refuse.

“I’ll go back first, and prepare good tea to wait for you.”

He said ‘wait’, as if he would not move the day along if she did not come. Her heart softened, and she suddenly stopped in her path.

…

[And then of course Qingying comes back to attend the selection. Hongli, who had originally intended to choose Langhua, changes his mind and chose Qingying to be his di fujin, but then Yongzheng interfered and put a stop to it… But the play is one massive foreshadowing plot device that doesn’t get explained much in the drama, but packs a punch when you read this scene.] -h

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kyberheart · 3 years

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A Deceitful Creation Part #1 - Wolffe x F!Reader

Part #2

Summary: You’ve been trying for a while now to get pregnant with your lover. Knowing that may never happen, you ask for some outside help from Wolffe on the down-low...

Word Count: 1483

Warnings: 18+, piv sex, infidelity, pregnancy/trying for a baby, cursing, angst

A/N: Heyyyyyyyy.... I’m still here! I had some stuff going on this past week so I missed my Friday fic upload, but hey! It’s Sunday, only missed it by a few days so whatever. I’m still working on part #3 of my little Techy-boy story. Hopefully will be finished by Friday the 3rd! Heh... part #3 on the 3rd... perfect. ANYWAY I hope you like this little blurb I wrote. I wanted maximum sad with lots of OOF. I kept the summary and header as vague as possible to not spoil the end. Good luck in there!

(Ao3 Link if ya want it)

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Wolffe was different with you. All teeth and tongue and nails dug into the plump flesh of your thighs. The look adorning his eyes in this moment is akin to a knife’s edge; he was holding back as not to tear you to shreds.

Your lover on the other hand, well… he was the whisper of a cool breeze in the night. A cascading avalanche of stolen breaths and languid strokes. Completely and utterly tender with you.

“C-close Wolffe, almost…I’m—!”

He nods, stooping to kiss you, but swiftly retracts his head with a tiny scowl. He knew the rules. No marks that can’t be covered up, no pet names, and under no circumstances can he kiss you. This was just a mutually beneficial transaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I got you… I got you…”

He’s reaching down, down, down to make contact with your clit. You keen, dropping your head back into the mattress. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling inside of you as your legs wrap tightly around his waist. You tremble under him as you come down from your high. In a blur of muscle-memory Wolffe is reaching behind you for a pillow. He props your hips upward with it, grinding into you a few more times to make sure his seed is in there nice and deep.

“If this isn’t the one, I’m not sure if I can help. Maybe what they say is true, maybe we’re all infertile. I mean, I’ve heard rumors of defectors running off and getting people knocked up, but…” He shrugs, pulling out of you to head into the ‘fresher. You sigh, staring at the grey ceiling above you. That really wasn’t the case. Some were infertile, yes. You knew that all too well…

“I’m headed out. I have a supply run to facilitate. You alright?”

Wolffe grunts as he snaps his scratched armor around himself. He wasn’t much for conversations after the act. Rather, he preferred to be on his merry way as fast as possible. It wasn’t so much to avoid catching feelings as it was to steer clear of talking. He was undoubtedly the most stand-offish of the clones you knew. You were often surprised at how easy it was to lure him into the bedroom with how hostile his demeanor could be. Though on second thought he was just a normal guy. Sex is just as fun for him as it is for others.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks Wolffe. If this one doesn’t stick I’ll leave you alone.”

He pauses to search your face. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around your chest with a sleepy yawn. A garbled message blips from his forearm, which he answers with a quick acknowledgement before seating his helmet onto his head.

“Understood. I’ll see you around. Say hi to my vod for me when he gets back.”

And with that, he’s silently leaving your apartment into the void beyond. In the silence of the room your mind wanders once more. You think of your lover. Where was he right now? Somewhere far, far away? Somewhere he was safe? Was he warm, fed, and happy?

The cool dribble of Wolffe’s cum down your thigh snaps you from your rumination. You glance at the clock, finding it’s already been twenty minutes since he’d left. More than enough time, you think. With a quick curl of your spine you’re up on your feet and heading to the ‘fresher for a nice long shower. Hopefully when you were out you’d have a comm or a message from your lover.

----------------- He hunches low, lips hovering so close to your ear his hot breaths could have burned a hole through your head.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl. Just a—oh, squeezing me so tight tonight, huh? This’ll be the one, the kriffing ONE. Gonna fuck you full, fill you up to bursting. Make you s-swell with my baby. Can’t wait to see you like that… all mine…”

You cum so hard the world around you dissipates into nothing but him. He growls, pitching you forward with his angled thrusts. His hips crush you into the bed as he cums right along with you. His amber eyes sizzle with freshly tapped desire. Whispered adorations mingle between the two of you, lost to the spinning darkness of the night. When you’ve calmed your heaving breaths, you reach up to grab one of the pillows above you. He helps you position it under your hips before kissing you roughly. Between pecks, he speaks with a heart full of gentle sweetness.

“I’ll keep doing this—you’ll see. We’ll have a little one running around before you know it. Our little adi’ka… yeah…”

His eyes grow distant, lips stilling at the nape of your neck. You huff, smacking his shoulder with your hand.

“I know babe, don’t worry. With how much you’ve been between my legs I think we’ll be having LOTS of them running around.”

You wink at him, leaning up to kiss him again. He chuckles, reciprocating your heavy prodding tongue with his own within your mouth.

“I just… I know we’ve been trying for over a year… what if I...”

You shoot him a frown, tilting your head up to look him straight in the eyes. The fact of the matter was daunting and sat like tepid acid on your tongue. If he knew he wasn’t able to sire children, it would truly break him.

“NO! You are perfectly fine the way you are. I’d know, remember? I’m chief medical officer here dummy. You—WE have nothing to worry about. It’ll happen when the time is right. Trust me.”

He smiles at you, the sight of which could warm even the frostiest planet of Hoth into the dunes of Tatooine. All your love, all your patience and turmoil and sympathy and curiosity and… kriff, you’re everything was him. All him, always was and always will be. Him.

-------------------- The vividness of your dream wakes you with a start. It seemed to be recurring the last few days, a memory of the last time you and your lover were together. You shake your head of the images that haunted you. If only he was home, you wouldn’t worry so much about him.

It had already been a few weeks since Wolffe had occupied your bed. A queasy feeling was beginning to settle low in your stomach. Your lover hadn’t been back in a long while, and you were starting to think something wasn’t right.

You rise to pee, realizing in the dimly lit hush of dawn that this was becoming a frequent occurrence for you. When your shirt brushes a bit too roughly against one of your nipples you yelp. Were they always so sore in the morning? Wait…

Could this be it? A surge of adrenaline hits you like a Hammerhead Corvette as you rush into the ‘fresher. Not long after, you have a small white strip laying on your counter. Your knee bobs with anticipation, head in your hands as you sit on the hard tiled floor. This might just be it!

As the lines swell in the tiny viewport, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as possible. The memory pushes it’s way to the front of your mind once more to taunt you, to make you feel a twinge of guilt at what you’ve done. With a groan you run your fingers soothingly through your hair. You knew you could do this. Joy, passion, and relief would pave over the deceit from which this baby would be born. Your lover would never know the truth, but it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Forging a life, a family for the two of you was all that mattered right now.

The time is up. The minutes counted down with bated breaths. A scream tears its way from your throat as you see the result:

Pregnant

Before you can have a full-blown excitement meltdown, a beeping from the other room draws your attention. Your comm sits on your nightstand, signaling you of an incoming message. The words flash on the screen as you wipe tears from your eyes:

Dropping in to save a Jedi Master on Lola Sayu. Don’t worry, should be home before your pretty little head hits the pillow. See you soon my love. My heart is yours, forever.

Oh, you were squealing with delight now. It was finally happening! For REAL! This was a dream come true. A baby… you were going to have a baby! And your lover was going to be home by the end of the day. You wanted to comm him, send him a picture of the test, yell it to the kriffing UNIVERSE that you were fulfilling a long-awaited dream. Both of you were. You calmed yourself, resolving to tell him in person when he got home.

You couldn’t wait until Echo was back!

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randomposterofstuff · 3 years

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On the change of dynamics of Mikasa’s relationships with Eren and Levi

Author’s Note: Hi, all! I just wanted to share my personal analysis of two scenes that involve Eren, Mikasa, and Levi. The idea for the analysis just occurred to me randomly. And it made me think that these two scenes illustrate how much the dynamics of Mikasa’s relationships with Eren and Levi have changed over time. I don’t know if anyone has already made an analysis of this. But I just wanted to share my take on it. Haha. Fair Warning: This post is lengthy. Hahaha.

This is an analysis of two paralleling scenes involving Eren, Mikasa, and Levi. The first scene that will be discussed is the one where Levi beat Eren during the latter's military trial in Season 1. The second scene involves Levi striking Eren after the Raid on Liberio in Season 4. In the analysis of both scenes, I focused primarily on Mikasa's reactions. And at the end of the main analysis, I also posted my thoughts on what all of these could mean for Mikasa's relationship with Levi.

Also, SPOILER ALERT for those who haven't read Chapter 138 of the manga yet. While this post mainly analyzes the two scenes mentioned above, I also included some tidbits from Chapter 138 at the end to tie things up as neatly as possible. Hahaha.

So, anyway, here it goes:

-----

Season 1: The Trial

Back in Season 1, during Eren’s military trial, he was physically beaten by Levi. We all know that he did this to ensure that the Scouting Regiment/Survey Corps gets custody of him. The display was necessary to emphasize and prove that Levi, who is widely known as "Humanity's Strongest Soldier", is best suited to subdue Eren should he lose control of his abilities. Because of this, the Scouts were able to convince the Military Police and Premier Zackly that they should be given custody over Eren.

One of the most notable parts of this scene is how Mikasa was enraged by Levi's actions. Had Armin not stopped her, she would’ve probably lunged at Levi and struck him. At the time, Mikasa was gravely concerned about Eren’s well-being and was perhaps too furious at Levi to think about anything else. Because of this, she probably did not immediately realize that Levi had effectively secured Eren’s relative safety at the end of the day.

During the trial, the MPs spoke of planning to dissect him, among others. Conversely, the Scouts proposed that he participate in an upcoming scouting expedition to determine whether he is a threat or not. They also suggested that Eren be placed under Levi’s direct supervision so that he could be subdued in the event of an incident. While the latter proposal still entailed some degree of violence, it was far less hostile and more beneficial to Eren than the MP’s proposal.

Screenshots taken from Season 1, Episode 14 of the “Attack on Titan” anime

It is also worth noting that her primary concern during this time was Eren’s well-being. Mikasa is not cruel or heartless towards others. But it is worth noting that she was more concerned about Eren than the fact that he could have been a grave threat to so many innocent people. During this time, humanity inside the Walls was still ignorant of the truth, so the apprehension and fear directed towards Eren’s powers were justified and understandable. Yet, despite this, Mikasa was mainly singularly focused on Eren.

This is one of many instances which illustrate how she allows her affections for Eren to impair her judgment. She cares about him so much that sometimes her emotions get the better of her.

-----

Season 4: The Aftermath of the Raid on Liberio

Now, flash forward to Season 4 during the Raid on Liberio. When Eren was pulled onto the airship, Levi expressed his disgust and disappointment in Eren’s actions and behavior. He drove his points home by kicking Eren again. When he did so, Mikasa, probably out of habit and instinct, moved to intervene before Armin stopped her again. The difference here is that this time, she did not express anger towards Levi for beating Eren again. Instead, she had a sad and torn expression on her face.

Screenshots taken from Season 4, Episode 8 of the “Attack on Titan” anime

This is an indicator of growth and change on Mikasa’s part. While she still had the urge to protect Eren, she knew that because of what he did to the citizens of Liberio, Levi’s anger and disgust were justified. As a matter of fact, she herself was distraught when she saw the bodies of innocent civilians and children scattered on the battlefield. And what distressed her even more was the fact that Eren – her childhood friend, adoptive brother, and literal savior, was the cause of all the destruction.

Screenshots taken from Season 4, Episode 7 of the “Attack on Titan” anime

During this time, Mikasa had already begun to notice that the Eren she once knew was no longer with them. However, probably because of personal sentiment and their shared history, she still cared for him. It is likely that Mikasa still hoped that he would change for the better during this particular time. Even so, she is now wise and mature enough to not turn a blind eye to his terrible actions.

It can also be said that Mikasa is now better able to properly analyze the situation as a whole instead of just focusing on Eren. She understood the gravity of the problem and therefore acknowledged that Levi was in the right for feeling disgusted and disappointed. And maybe it can be said that she couldn’t blame him for kicking Eren again. (Lol.)

-----

What This Means for Levi and Mikasa's Relationship: Having Common Ground

As for what all of this means for Mikasa and Levi's relationship, I think that it can be said that Mikasa now has more common ground with Levi than Eren.

The affection she has for Eren is rooted in a shared history and the kind of person he used to be before he became their ultimate enemy. Before the truth about the world and Eldians was revealed to the inhabitants of Paradis, Eren and Mikasa were long-time friends who worked hand-in-hand to achieve their common goals. The first was to keep humanity within the Walls safe from the threat of the Titans. And the second was to uncover the truth surrounding the mystery of the Titans. However, their relationship began to deteriorate when they finally learned of the truth, and when Eren gained access to his Attack Titan's ability to see the memories of its future and past inheritors. Over time, Eren began to slowly but surely drift away from her to the point that they had completely lost their common ground.

Conversely, her connection to Levi is based on trust and comradeship. Indeed, there aren't any explicitly romantic interactions between them (not yet, anyway. Lol.). However, it has already been established that Mikasa trusts Levi as a leader and as a fellow soldier. In the same vein, Levi also has faith in Mikasa's abilities. More importantly, it has been shown that Levi is capable of great empathy and that he has the best interests of humanity as a whole in both his mind and heart. This is another thing that he has in common with Mikasa. While she was heartbroken at the fact that killing Eren was the only way to stop him, she ultimately chose the rest of humanity over him and her feelings for him. She was even the one who dealt the final blow in Chapter 138. On this, I think that her act of choosing to kill Eren and actually seeing that choice through was her way of finally letting him go and choosing to move on from him. It's true that she said that she won't forget him, but then again, it's possible to move on from someone without forgetting them.

In relation to this, I think that it's symbolic (and perhaps even foreshadowing of events to come in Chapter 139) that Levi was the one to help her kill Eren. It's symbolic in the sense that by helping her kill Eren, Levi was the one to help Mikasa move on from him. It's also worth noting that when Mikasa declared her intention to kill Eren, Levi seemed to look awestruck and proud. He followed her lead - meaning that he trusted her resolve.

Images taken from Chapter 138 of the Shingeki no Kyojin manga.

This is particularly significant because, in the past, Levi (along with a few others) nearly always had to placate Mikasa whenever a dangerous situation involved Eren. Levi was completely aware of how reckless she could be whenever Eren's safety was in jeopardy. Even in the events leading up to the final battle, Mikasa still protested whenever anyone suggested that they kill Eren. However, when it came down to it, Mikasa decided that she would be the one to kill Eren. And when she asked for everyone’s help, he did not question her. Instead, he chose to trust her and believe her.

Perhaps this will lead to a deeper connection between them in the aftermath of the battle. Maybe this can be a foundation for the relationship that they will have in the future.

Anyway, that's all for now. I hope that this post makes sense. Haha. I'm sorry if it's a bit convoluted and messy. Lol. Let me know what you guys think!

#rivamika #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x levi #levimika #levi x mikasa #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan eren #eren jeager #eren yeager

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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extra 3 for Tedious Joys

A/N: For all the anons who begged for the AU in which Lao Nie's stupid idea from extra 2 about a happy WRH/Lao Nie/LQR ever after actually works out, with specific shout outs to the ones who suggested (1) WRH as a bastard cat, (2) possessiveness, (3) erotic reading, and (4) that I couldn’t write WRH being anything but thoroughly awful, because so there.

A/N: warning for adult content

“Congratulations to you both,” Lan Qiren said, looking between Lao Nie and Wen Ruohan with what he was certain was an expression of utmost bemusement. “I don’t see why your decision to enter into a formal relationship merits a private announcement to me personally.”

“Formal relationship?” Wen Ruohan echoed.

“He means that we’re actually calling it a relationship instead of just skulking around in each other’s beds,” Lao Nie explained briefly, then turned back to Lan Qiren. “We’re telling you because you’re a critical part of it.”

Lan Qiren blinked.

“If I am to enter into a – formal relationship with Lao Nie,” Wen Ruohan said, his sneer expressing his thoughts on the matter of Lan Qiren’s wording choices, “he has made it clear that engaging with you is necessary.”

“Engaging with me,” Lan Qiren said.

“As an equal partner,” Lao Nie said, nodding.

“With…me.”

“Yes.”

Lan Qiren rubbed his eyes. “Lao Nie,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, this would sound a great deal like a husband introducing his first wife to his second.”

“Equal partner,” Lao Nie said, as if that was the problem. “It isn’t a marriage, so there’s no need to rank –”

“Lao Nie, we’re not married.”

“Aren’t you?” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren gaped at him. “Once you put aside the question of sex, which I’m given to understand you’re squeamish about.”

“I’m given to understand that that is a rather critical aspect in a marriage,” Lan Qiren said archly, ignoring Lao Nie’s mutter of it’s not squeamishness, he just doesn’t like it. “At any rate, I do not live with him, I do not bear him children –”

“You support him, you understand him, you are irrevocably associated,” Wen Ruohan said impatiently. “Of all other people, he would pick you first, and you him. You can use the term ‘sworn brothers’ if you prefer, but you must admit that your – formalized relationship with Lao Nie goes well beyond the usual intimacy of mere friendship.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Lan Qiren said, although on second thought he thought that perhaps it might be true. He had loved Cangse Sanren dearly, but it was very, very different from how he felt for Lao Nie.

Wen Ruohan snorted. “This is your problem,” he told Lao Nie.

“Our problem now,” Lao Nie said peaceably. “Qiren, I have no expectation of the two of us entering into a sexual relationship –”

Lan Qiren nodded, having not expected anything like that.

“Nor do I expect you to enter into a sexual relationship with Hanhan –”

Good.

“But I would appreciate it if you made an effort to get along a little better, at least for my sake. I care very deeply for both of you and would like to have you both in my life. At once. Without murder.”

Lan Qiren eyed Wen Ruohan, who eyed him right back.

“Well,” Lan Qiren said after a while. “I suppose?”

After all, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t already sharing Lao Nie’s time with him. This would simply be a further extension of that.

Nothing more.

“If it makes you uncomfortable –”

“I’ve already made clear that I don’t mind you two having sex while I’m in the room,” Lan Qiren said impatiently. “As long as I am not personally involved, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

“See,” Wen Ruohan said. “It doesn’t bother him in the slightest.”

Lan Qiren ignored him. He’d found that that was the easiest way to deal with Wen Ruohan when he was in a mood – not entirely unlike the way he dealt with some of his more troublesome students, in fact.

“What if you’re the subject of conversation?” Lao Nie persisted.

“Conversation?” Lan Qiren said, frowning. “Do you often converse while – uh –”

Wen Ruohan sniggered. “Yes,” he said. “Quite a great deal. We can be quite noisy, even.”

“I can assure you I’m already aware of that,” Lan Qiren informed him, long-suffering. Wooden walls, even with insulation, were simply insufficient.

“We’re getting away from the main point here,” Lao Nie said.

“The main point being that you wish to involve me in your sexual antics, but from a distance?”

“…basically.”

“Antics,” Wen Ruohan said, looking pained. “We’re not twelve. Sect Leader Lan, can we not agree to simply say that we wish to objectify and sexualize you as part of our relationship, but that your personal participation is not required?”

“If we wish to be pretentious about it, we can,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan blinked as if surprised that Lan Qiren had the capacity for even such a mild rebuke. “Yes, go ahead. It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

Now they were both blinking at him.

“Being objectified,” he clarified. “Even with being lusted over, fantasized about within my hearing, that sort of thing. It’s quite common, you know.”

“It…is?” Wen Ruohan said. He had now started blinking rather rapidly. “You often allow people to have sexual thoughts and conversations about you, then?”

“Oh, every day.”

“Every…day?”

“My students,” Lan Qiren explained with a faint sigh. “The majority of them prefer to imagine me as far away from being sexualized as possible, which I appreciate, but quite a few of them go so far as to end up on the other end – and of course they’re at that age when their thoughts tend to dwell on all matters connected with sex.”

“Oh,” Lao Nie said. “Your students.”

“That makes a great deal more sense,” Wen Ruohan said, nodding.

“What did you think I meant?” Lan Qiren asked, frowning at them both. “I’ll have you know that they are exceedingly indiscreet about it – in terms of conversation, or the notes they include in their books, or even in offers –”

“You’ve gotten offers?”

“Too many. I’ve refused, of course.”

“Poor children, I can’t blame them for trying,” Lao Nie mused. “You’re very commanding when you take charge of a classroom.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Wen Ruohan remarked. “Listening to Sect Leader Lan ramble on does not strike me as the most inspiring set of circumstances.”

“That’s what I’ve always thought!” Lan Qiren said. “It was always a surprise. I’m well aware that I tend towards toneless monotony – yet apparently there are people who find that attractive.”

“I would,” Lao Nie said at once, because of course he would. He’d find just about anything attractive, as long as it had the capacity to end his life…though what that said about his views of Lan Qiren’s lectures, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure. “I’d be very happy to get off to you reading out one of your lectures.”

“You are not tainting my lectures with your deviance,” Lan Qiren informed him. “I’m happy to read any spring book you like, but leave my lectures out of it.”

They were both staring at him again.

“What?” he said, suspicious.

“Would you really?” Wen Ruohan asked, leaning forward. His gaze was suddenly very intent, in a way that resembled the way he usually looked at Lao Nie. “Read us a spring book?”

Lan Qiren blinked. “If you like? I warn you, it’ll be in the same tone I do all my other readings.”

“That’s fine,” Lao Nie said. He, too, looked oddly intent. “Very good, even.”

“Very good,” Wen Ruohan agreed effusively.

“…very well then,” Lan Qiren said, now completely lost. “Go fetch one, then.”

He’d never understood what people saw in sex, and he was starting to think he never would.

Especially if they were all this ridiculous.

“You don’t actually need to keep me company just because Lao Nie told you to,” Lan Qiren said to Wen Ruohan, who was sitting across from him and refusing to leave.

“No, he won the bet fair and square,” Wen Ruohan said, looking sulky. “While this is not exactly the promise I had hoped he would extract, I will comply with his wishes to the letter.”

Wen Ruohan had probably been hoping for a kinky sex game, Lan Qiren reflected. It was a pity that the threat against Lan Qiren had come in so soon before their bet had been resolved – and that they had not yet identified who it was that had sent the threat, nor how serious it was – and Lao Nie was for some reason convinced that there were internal threats within the Cloud Recesses that needed to be guarded against.

Thus the request.

“Then I suggest you find a way to entertain yourself,” Lan Qiren finally said, looking down at the papers at his desk. He really did need to finish reviewing them all, and he had wasted enough time attempting to play host to a recalcitrant guest who didn’t want to be appeased. “I can order more tea, if you’d like…”

“No, no,” Wen Ruohan said. “I can entertain myself just fine.”

Lan Qiren was unfortunately familiar with that tone of voice, and was therefore unsurprised when Wen Ruohan began to undo his robes, albeit just enough to pull out his cock.

Personally, Lan Qiren would not find public masturbation with gratuitous leering to be entertaining, but then again, he wasn’t Wen Ruohan.

He peacefully did his work for a while, ignoring the sound of self-pleasure from a few feet away, but after a while – and it was taking a while, presumably because Wen Ruohan kept getting distracted by his irritation with Lao Nie – he couldn’t help but glance over.

He frowned.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he said.

Wen Ruohan’s hand stopped. “Excuse me,” he said. “What did you say?”

“You’re doing it wrong,” Lan Qiren repeated.

Wen Ruohan gaped at him. “Are you – you – attempting to instruct me in how to – this?”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, and Wen Ruohan’s shoulders relaxed – sanity and order returning to the world, no doubt. “I’m referring to your cultivation. You don’t have to share details, but you do use a yang-oriented cultivation method, do you not?”

“I do.”

“You have a small blockage in the meridian next to your neck,” Lan Qiren said. “It’s slowing it down. You should release it.”

Wen Ruohan concentrated, then frowned. “I sense no such blockage.”

“It’s only apparent when you’re flushing your meridians with yang energy,” Lan Qiren said. “Do both at the same time.”

Wen Ruohan scowled at him. “That’s easier said than done.”

Lan Qiren shrugged and put his papers down, standing up. “In that case, I will assist.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes bulged slightly.

Lan Qiren walked over and settled down behind him. “Carry on, then,” he said.

“Assist with releasing the blockage,” Wen Ruohan said. “Right. Yes. That makes – more sense.”

And then he did carry on, because he was shameless like that.

Lan Qiren waited until he could see the blockage again, and then put his hands on Wen Ruohan’s shoulders.

Wen Ruohan flinched, and the energy dissipated.

Lan Qiren heaved a sigh. “Really?” he said, disapproving. “Is this the best you can do? Sect Leader Wen, please. You are a famous cultivator, far more powerful than me – I would expect your concentration to be better than this.”

“Right,” Wen Ruohan said. His voice was strangely hoarse. He started moving his hand again. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, Sect Leader Lan.”

Lan Qiren huffed, and noted that Wen Ruohan shivered. Perhaps he was sitting too close, and his breath had hit the back of Wen Ruohan’s neck, exposed as he curled forward over himself. “My request from you isn’t exactly difficult,” he said, a touch of asperity in his voice. “I’m certain you’ve done it many times before, and will many times again. If you can’t even perform such a straightforward task –”

Ah, there it was.

He put two fingers against the blocked meridian and firmly pressed, wielding his not inconsiderable arm strength against the tough skin Wen Ruohan had cultivated over the years.

Wen Ruohan made a choked noise.

The blockage released, the latent tension in the muscles releasing with it, and Wen Ruohan shuddered all over – presumably the yang energy that had been knotted up in there had also released, flooding through his meridians.

“Well done,” Lan Qiren said, inspecting his work. “The flow of energy is much smoother now. You should notice an immediate improvement in both temperament and swordplay.”

Wen Ruohan huffed and sat up straight again, starting to straighten his clothing. Apparently he’d finished the self-pleasure portion of the evening as well.

“I’m much obliged to you for your guidance, Teacher Lan,” he said, and it was Lan Qiren’s turn to blink, surprised – Wen Ruohan had never used that term of address for him before. “I look forward to attending your classes with you tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to,” Lan Qiren told him, although he used the opportunity to rise to his feet and return to his desk, intent on finishing his review. “There’s hardly any danger from my students.”

“No, no,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m interested to see you – in your element, so to speak. I was perhaps too hasty in disregarding Lao Nie’s exhortations regarding the quality of your pedagogical skills.”

“Very well,” Lan Qiren said, a little suspicious. “You understand, of course, that you would not be permitted to…?”

“Around children? I assure you that that is not one of my proclivities.”

“Good,” Lan Qiren said, even though he was well aware that Wen Ruohan’s particular character was such that the fact that something was not within his so-called proclivities would in no way stop him if he thought he could get some benefit out of it. “Very well, then. If you insist –”

“I do,” Wen Ruohan said firmly. “I promised Lao Nie, did I not? I intend to keep my promise in the spirit in which it was requested.”

Lan Qiren sighed. This would probably end up only distracting his students more…hmm. Unless he used it to his advantage.

“Would you be willing to demonstrate some array techniques?” he asked. “I know they’re your area of expertise, and there are certain philosophical points I wish to convey to my students that may be more easily expressed with a visual demonstration.”

Wen Ruohan rolled his eyes, but it seemed to lack the usual sense of malice.

“You may use me as you wish, Teacher,” he said with a smirk. “I am at your service.”

“Is there anything you actually like?” Lan Qiren asked Wen Ruohan, aware that his tone was coming across as tetchy and irritable and wholly unable to stop it.

Wen Ruohan arched his eyebrows at him.

“Other than myself and Lao Nie, and definitely not sex,” Lan Qiren qualified. “Your birthday is coming up, and I’m having difficulty thinking of an appropriate present.”

“My – birthday?” Wen Ruohan asked, and then started smiling in amusement. “You can just get me whatever gift your sect has picked out for the event. I’m certain someone has already selected something –”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lan Qiren said. “You’re my – lover by proxy, I suppose, or at least something resembling a friend.”

To the extent one could befriend an especially large, especially poisonous serpent, anyway. Despite this, Lan Qiren liked to think he wasn’t doing too bad a job at it.

“The least I can do is get you something you actually enjoy,” he added, scowling. “Unfortunately, despite all of our years of acquaintance, I honestly have no idea what that might be. I’m aware of your general penchant for torture, so I had initially considered a text on anatomy, but in all honesty supporting torture even by proxy makes me queasy so I had to discard that idea –”

“A text on anatomy,” Wen Ruohan interrupted, blinking in that strange way he had when he was surprised by something. Usually Lan Qiren, actually, although Lao Nie sometimes managed it, too. “You were thinking of getting me something on anatomy so that I could – torture people better?”

“It does seem to be one of the few things you like to do,” Lan Qiren pointed out. “And it’s not as if I have any treatises on clever machines one can use to extract entrails or something.”

“I’m delighted you even considered it,” Wen Ruohan said. He seemed to be fighting a laugh.

“Perhaps some medicine?” Lqn Qiren mused.

“I’m fairly sure my sect’s pharmacists are better than yours. I get all sorts of herbs to aid in cultivation from sects all over –”

“Not in aid of cultivation; I’m hardly going to gift you with your hundredth strand of ancient ginseng, am I? I meant for your anemia.”

“My – what?”

“You have a strange fixation on blood in all forms, whether the shedding in battle or merely at dinner. It occurred to me that you might be minorly anemic.”

Wen Ruohan covered his mouth with his sleeve. His shoulders were shaking.

“Listen, your only hobbies are sadism, blood, and power, and there’s nothing I can do for you on any of those scores,” Lan Qiren said, scowling. “You have to have some sort of thing that you can do –”

“I paint.”

Lan Qiren blinked. “You paint? Recreationally? Really?”

Wen Ruohan shrugged. “I used to, at any rate. It’s been – rather a while.”

For someone like Wen Ruohan, that ‘while’ might very well be as long as Lan Qiren’s life.

“I used to be rather good at it,” Wen Ruohan said thoughtfully. “Or at least I thought I was.”

“Have I seen any of your work?” Lan Qiren asked, and Wen Ruohan blinked at him. “You have art all over the Nightless City. Is any of it yours?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Privately, Lan Qiren thought that it was because personal paintings did not demonstrate the extent of Wen Ruohan’s power over others, and were thereby less satisfying, but Wen Ruohan had shifted over to looking contemplative and even nostalgic.

“You know,” Wen Ruohan murmured. “I’m really not sure.”

“Well, I can certainly get you paints,” Lan Qiren said. “And Lao Nie and I can drag you to some secluded location with a good view to allow you some time to indulge in it; I think that sounds like an excellent gift. Thank you for the idea.”

“…think nothing of it.”

“I will rip him limb from limb,” Wen Ruohan hissed. “I will tear out his stomach and feed it to him.”

“You’re overreacting,” Lan Qiren said.

“I am not,” Wen Ruohan said, like a liar. “He nearly killed you!”

Lan Qiren turned his gaze to Lao Nie, who was usually fairly good at keeping Wen Ruohan back, but his old friend had his arms crossed over his chest and a thunderous scowl fixed firmly on his face.

Apparently, he agreed with Wen Ruohan.

“It wasn’t an attack meant to kill,” Lan Qiren tried to explain. “It was only meant to paralyze –”

“Oh, so severing your spine is no big deal then?”

“You have at least a dozen tools that are designed to do just that in your basement,” Lan Qiren reminded Wen Ruohan.

“I don’t use them anymore,” Wen Ruohan growled. “You’ve taken all the fun out of it, the two of you. If I want to hurt someone, Lao Nie is more fun; if I want a challenge, Teacher Lan is always available to be at my throat; if I want to exert power, I need only remind any sect leader in the cultivation world of our relationship and they will have no choice but to submit unhappily to reality. It’s hardly worth wasting my time on some random prisoners. Now don’t try to distract me – you can’t honestly say that you want to live the rest of your life without your legs!”

“Obviously not, though one might argue that my mobility is already limited enough that adding a wheelchair would not make that much of a difference. I’m just pointing out –”

“When he’s fully healed, we’re taking him on vacation,” Lao Nie said to Wen Ruohan, who nodded furiously. “A long one. The Lan sect can cope.”

“How did we get on the subject of vacation?” Lan Qiren asked, starting to wonder if it was him or them that had lost the thread of their conversation. “I merely wished to say that your reaction is overblown. The threat has passed, and I remain alive and intact –”

“Except for the gaping hole in your back.”

“It’s been bandaged and stitched up. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, yes, you will be,” Wen Ruohan said, and finally sat down again, putting his hand on Lan Qiren’s hip to start transferring spiritual energy over. He had a truly obscene amount of qi – something Lan Qiren supposed he had to be grateful for, as it had been that, in conjunction with Lao Nie’s extraordinary fighting skills, that had saved his life. “I will make sure you’re fine. By force if necessary.”

“He was just upset –”

“Stop making excuses for him,” Lao Nie said. His voice was low and tight and angry and tired. “You’ve been apologizing for your brother since the first day I met you, Qiren. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“You were his friend once, too,” Lan Qiren reminded him.

“I was,” Lao Nie said. “There was something worth being friends with there, once. You’ve paid dearly for every mistake he’s ever made – but not this. Not this.”

“There is a boundary to filial piety,” Wen Ruohan agreed. “And in the end, he is only your elder brother. He is not entitled to your life.”

“He didn’t want my life,” Lan Qiren said. “He wanted me to suffer as he suffers. He’s not well.”

Insane, in fact. That would be the word for it.

Mad, raging, ravening – if Lan Qiren could blame a qi deviation, of the sort that tended to end Lao Nie’s family line when their meridians weren’t being constantly tended to by the most powerful cultivator alive with an obsession for keeping his lover alive, he would. That might yet be found to be the cause; he didn’t know, he wasn’t involved in the investigation.

It wouldn’t be appropriate for him to be involved, whether as the direct victim or the closest living family of the perpetrator.

Lan Qiren…didn’t know what to do with any of that.

He didn’t recognize his brother in the madman that tried to kill him simply for being happy, for being reputed to have taken on lovers. He didn’t recognize even the faintest shell of him.

“Maybe we should take him on that vacation now,” Lao Nie said to Wen Ruohan, who looked thoughtful. “Hanhan, do you still have that – that ridiculous carriage, the big wide one, the one designed to avoid any bumps…?”

“You’re not taking me away from the Cloud Recesses before the trial,” Lan Qiren said, though he wasn’t actually sure if there would even be a trial. It seemed like the sort of thing that his sect would prefer to cover up, though it might be difficult to do so with two other sect leaders aware of what had happened and angry about it. “I’m sect leader, remember?”

“Acting sect leader,” Wen Ruohan said, and for once the reminder wasn’t meant to be poisonous. “Leave the matter to your sect elders.” He paused. “Or to me, I could handle it.”

“You could commit a murder, you mean.”

“A justified murder.”

“No, Ruohan-xiong.”

“How do you put up with this?” Wen Ruohan complained to Lao Nie, who unbent just long enough to look amused. “This stubbornness.”

“Oh, come off it,” Lao Nie said. “You love it.”

“I admit to nothing.”

“You stopped trying to conquer the world for us, I don’t need you to say that you love us,” Lao Nie said. “You can give up on this murder for us, too. Now shift over, I’m taking the inside of the bed.”

“What? No! We’re not sharing a bed,” Lan Qiren said. “You’re both far too elbow-y.”

“That’s too bad for you,” Wen Ruohan said, curling up behind him, even as Lao Nie firmly planted himself in front of him, both of them careful to avoid the wound on Lan Qiren’s side and back. “This is an excellent position for dual cultivation –”

“Ruohan-xiong!”

“Non-sexual dual cultivation, Qiren, stop whining. You’re going to live a good long life whether you like it or not.”

“That’s not how that works,” Lan Qiren complained, but he knew he was already yielding.

“Yes, it is,” Wen Ruohan said in his ear. “I’ll make it be the way it works. You’ll see…”

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #tedious joys #it took me so long to write a version of WRH who wasn't awful that this grew a plot #i mean #he's still awful #just - less awful?

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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The paradox of the relationship between Takeru and Hikari

The issue of the relationship between Takeru and Hikari has been a question of interest since the series first aired, and especially after 02, which prominently depicted them constantly hanging out together and clearly having some kind of relation to each other...and yet, strangely, very rarely having a real heart-to-heart or even talking to each other much at all. The constant juxtapositions of them standing next to each other all of the time in both the series and in external media, combined with the fact they’re so associated with each other in terms of being Adventure returnees and with Digimon partners with similar evolutions, makes one almost mentally geared to associate them with each other, and yet we never really get to hear what they think about each other in the entirety of Adventure or 02′s running.

Part of this is because Takeru and Hikari are the two most “difficult to read” characters in the 02 team -- Hikari because she compulsively suppresses any selfish or negative feeling she has, and Takeru because he covers up his problems with a smile and pretends everything is okay, until it’s not. And, as it turns out, that “gap in communication” exists between the two of them as well; in the web of 02′s relationships, it’s a strange mix between being “comfortable around” each other, and yet not truly knowing each other...

Disclaimer before we continue: With some exceptions related to unambiguous canon depictions, I try to write my meta about relationships between characters in such a way that both shipping readings and non-shipping readings are possible in most cases, and my main reason for this is that I very strongly believe that even if you do ship the pair in question, it’s rather reductive (and not very fun) to stop an analysis at “anyway it’s because they’re in love” or something and not go any further. If you don’t care for Takeru/Hikari as a ship, I hope you can take this analysis as-is, and if you do happen to ship it, I hope you can take my analysis of the gaps in their relationship as “things they would have to consider and overcome for such a relationship to be possible” (i.e. a possible fanfic prompt?) and not me trying to dismiss the ship as inherently possible or impossible.

A second disclaimer: A lot of the important key points below are heavily dependent on how they were presented in the Japanese version of 02, especially in regards to the key 02 episode 13. The American English dub took a very large number of liberties with a lot of the below aspects, so if you are reading this with only that version as a reference, please be aware that there may be significant differences for the sake of avoiding confusion.

Hikari didn’t get to spend much of the series with the rest of the Adventure group, having been a “latecomer”, but once she enters, it’s rather interesting how much Takeru doesn’t socialize much with her. Granted, part of this was because of the circumstances -- there was a lot to be done, and Hikari had a cold relapse not long after they’d entered the Digital World -- but you’d really think Takeru would be interested in at least socializing with someone who’s actually his age, and yet we don’t get any real depiction of doing so outside of discussing important matters. It’s not to say that they never had any kind of conversation offscreen, but by the time we get to the end of Adventure, we have zero scope of what they actually think of each other.

By the time we get to 02, it turns out that this is probably by design.

First of all, we very quickly learn that the two of them did not keep up between Adventure and 02 -- they’re meeting each other again for the first time in a long time, and the last time they did meet was when they were much younger (probably their last meeting being the one depicted in the flashback in 02 episode 27). This is understandable considering that, up until the beginning of 02, Takeru lived in Sangenjaya and not Odaiba, meaning that it wasn’t like they’d have opportunities to meet up much in real life either, but the point is that this is how little contact and how little involvement they’d had in each other’s lives up until this point.

So, once the plot of 02 kicks off and the two of them become active as Chosen Children again, the two of them end up hanging out a lot. So much that Daisuke starts accusing them of having something between them. And the two of them never say anything to really firmly deny him, which of course only makes him more confused and upset, until 02 episode 17, when the concrete connection between them is established to the rest of the 02 team, and it’s properly disclosed that they were part of a whole adventure back in 1999 together.

Takeru knew Hikari before, and she’s still the one he knows the best out of this team, and on Hikari’s part, Takeru understands the nature of “being a Chosen Child” in ways the others don’t, and both of them had that formative experience that the others don’t understand. But 02 is a series that’s not only about relationships, but also about the differing nature of relationships -- it’s true that, having known each other well beforehand and also being all-around decent people, the two of them would certainly have an extra level of investment in each other’s welfare, but...

In 02 episode 13, we learn that as much as Takeru knows Hikari, he doesn’t really know her, and on Hikari’s part, she’s still incapable of communicating the extent of her thoughts so that he can.

The conversation between Takeru and Hikari behind the school in this episode is the first time we get to really see an opportunity for the two of them to bare their actual emotions, but nothing that can be called a "conversation" is had between them. Hikari is still plagued by a compulsive desire to not be a burden to others, including the idea of “burdening” her brother, and, when Takeru finally prompts her on what’s going on, she says nothing that properly clarifies what she’s going through, nothing but a cryptic mention of the “sea”, a statement that she "might be going away”, and a reference to her brother having always protected her beforehand. Takeru takes it as a sign that Hikari’s become overly dependent on Taichi, and snaps at her angrily -- a persistent symptom of him being unable to regulate his emotions properly -- and, unable to handle it, runs off awkwardly, leaving her alone to eventually be taken away. Later in the episode, Takeru reflects that he’d basically just doomed Hikari by his own actions, and with his last words to her having been something awful.

Ultimately, some degree of progress is made in that Hikari realizes that Takeru reaching out to her earlier makes him someone she should be reaching out to for help -- in the end, nobody in the 02 group had yet been able to reach out to her emotionally because of how closed-in she was, and the only people she truly trusted with her feelings up until that point were Taichi and Tailmon. So in other words, Takeru is another person she can finally “trust” with her feelings and welfare. But while Takeru is finally able to connect to her in some sense with this, when the two finally close off the episode and return to the real world, everything ends in complete silence. They do not say a single word to each other. They’re getting by with a sense of “inherent trust”, and their disconnect was resolved with that alone this time, but this problem hasn’t been fully solved yet and will be rearing its ugly head again by the time we get around to the Jogress arcs.

And so the two of them return back to their “comfortable with each other” status quo -- but, again, 02 is a series that portrays relationships in a very multi-layered and multifaceted form, and being comfortable around someone still doesn’t necessarily merit emotional closeness (for instance, Ken was pretty clearly indicated as being “comfortable” and straightforward in terms of working with Miyako in 02 episodes 25 and 33, but there’s no doubt that Daisuke’s the one who was more properly addressing the things he emotionally needed most at the time, which could arguably be said to be exactly why Ken was having a hard time adjusting to him at first). We see them “go off together” to do...completely mundane and practical things, like discussing why they’re still able to come to the Digital World in 02 episode 22, or trying to have their Digimon partners evolve on their own in 02 episode 24 -- they’re not having any kind of emotional heart-to-heart, they’re just there.

When you look at the wider picture, you can see that Hikari and Takeru’s relative comfort around each other at this point is largely because they’re still not comfortable being alone with anyone else yet. So far, they kind of had a bonding (not really bonding) session back in 02 episode 13, and they hadn’t had anything of the sort with anyone else, and they’re still the only people who understand certain things relevant to the adventure in 1999 that the others don’t. They’re both still ridiculously closed-in and guarded, and not trusting anyone with their feelings -- they can’t even trust each other with their feelings -- so they’re getting by on hanging out with each other because it’s either that or go off to be completely alone. As the two most “emotionally isolated” people in this group, there’s a wall between them and the others, and that wall is only slightly thinner between each other -- and you can even imagine that they’re willing to hang out with each other because they won’t be bothering that wall and causing intimidation.

And by the time we roll around to 02 episode 31, we learn that, this whole time, nothing has improved. Takeru sees that something is going on with Hikari, but does and says nothing -- perhaps because he’s not sure what to say, perhaps because he’s afraid of lashing out at her again, whatever it is -- but he can’t and won’t speak to her nor address her feelings.

In the end, the person who does establish that ability to “communicate” with Hikari is not Takeru but Miyako -- an aggressive, in-your-face, overly honest person who gets straight to the point and refuses to hold back, whose messy personality causes Hikari to become assertive in handling her and allows Hikari to finally vocalize one of her truly sensitive feelings, and who’s able to use her immense emotional sensitivity to identify what Hikari needs and break through to her.

But just because Miyako ended up being the person Hikari needs to move on past this issue does not mean Takeru’s role wasn’t important, nor that Miyako coming into Hikari’s life means that all of her relationships are inferior or pointless -- rather, a recurring element of 02′s portrayal of relationships is that everything has a ripple effect, and that “opening up” one person’s heart allows them to open up to others as well (see how Daisuke reaching out to Ken eventually helped him reach out to the others in the group, how even in this very same episode Miyako expresses that this experience helped her understand Ken better as well, how Daisuke’s experiences end up giving him a healthier relationship with the rest of the group, how Iori and Takeru’s Jogress ordeal helps them both become better at reaching out to Ken...). Unlike how they’d both closed off 02 episode 13, Hikari and Takeru end this one by talking -- with Hikari’s newfound confidence from her dealings with Miyako allowing her to more openly speak what she’s thinking with Takeru.

One thing you might notice is that after 02 episode 31, Takeru and Hikari are never seen going off on their own together for the rest of the series -- because, again, their “latching” onto hanging out with each other at the exclusion of anyone else was because they were that isolated from everyone else, but not anymore! Hikari starts to hang out more with Miyako as the two of them become more comfortable hanging out after the events of said episode; after all, Miyako had come to understand the real reason why Hikari “keeps so much inside” and that she needs to actively reach out to her, and Hikari is able to properly trust Miyako with her feelings, meaning that now that Hikari is starting to open up, she doesn’t need to fall back on her “truce” with Takeru to get by. Which ends up leaving Takeru rather alone for the following set of episodes. Well, seemingly alone, but...

...he’s not truly alone, because this is also where Iori realizes that there’s a lot more going on with Takeru and that he needs to make a proactive effort to understand him, and it doesn’t take long for Takeru to realize what Iori’s doing (especially when Yamato tips him off that Iori asked about him in 02 episode 35). Once again, very much unlike Hikari, Iori is straightforward and to-the-point, and is much better at cutting through all of the complicated layers Takeru puts up in an attempt to cover up his emotions.

The rest of the series has them in significantly more emotionally tense situations than before, and while the fact they end up spending the rest of the series with their respective Jogress partners instead of each other is partially sheer pragmatics, it’s also how the two of them start taking a more active role in actually checking on the others’ emotions and communicating with them in regards to their feelings. This is a huge deal -- compare this to back in 02 episode 13 when they were practically the only people willing to have this kind of serious, emotional conversation with each other -- and said attempt at a serious conversation exploded in their faces. (The other time one of them had made an attempt at something vaguely resembling a heart-to-heart during that time was 02 episode 11, which also resulted in Takeru blowing up explosively.) But here they’re capable of communicating clearly and openly and making their positions known in a way that gets through to their respective Jogress partners’ issues, without being stifled by anything.

But, again: just because they don’t “go off together” anymore doesn’t mean they stopped being important people to each other or comfortable around each other -- it’s just that now they’ve stopped wandering off together for the sake of blocking themselves away from others, and no longer trapped in this strange, paradoxical relationship of knowing-but-not-truly-knowing each other they had all the way back in 02 episode 13. The relationship they had back then was something built off of coping mechanisms, and not something you could truly say was healthy, not when their communication was stilted and Takeru had snapped at her so badly -- but both of them learning to open up more and be more honest with their feelings means that they may well have an actual healthy dynamic going forward.

And for all it’s worth, we learn that they’re still on very good terms by the time of Kizuna, getting breakfast together in the opening -- but it’s left ambiguous if their reason for doing so like this was because they still have a penchant for particularly hanging out together, or whether it was just circumstance because they were free to get breakfast after the Digimon incident (they act independently for the rest of the movie). Moreover, their relationships with the others in the 02 group are still going strong, because as per the drama CD, Takeru’s happy to hang out with Daisuke like it’s nothing and actively join in to reach out to Iori (it’s said Daisuke was approaching Iori “first” despite Takeru being there, so both of them were hanging out independently and decided to pick up Iori together), and Hikari comes in with Miyako, expressing a very firm intent to hang out with her for their trip, and ultimately it’s established that them not being with the rest of the group at the time of the movie was sheer scheduling circumstance and not necessarily them going out of their way to operate away from them.

So in other words, whatever relation you can say they have at this point, or their ability to get along, is not based on them falling back on each other as an unhealthy coping mechanism of silence, but one carried out in a more genuine manner.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #takaishi takeru #yagami hikari #takeru takaishi #hikari yagami #shihameta

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shysneeze · 3 years

Text

Art Gallery Shenanigans (Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader)

Description: Remus takes the reader to an art gallery for their first date and is sufficiently flustered about it.

(from this request from @ribbons-in-your-hair hope i did it justice🥺)

Warnings: none that i can think of, some confrontation? Remus is nervous but it’s really just pure fluff

*middle image in header is painting mentioned later*

taglist: @pxroxide-prinxcesss @girl22334, @amourtentiaa

Remus has resorted to people watching in a bid to distract himself from the anxiety of waiting. It’s not that (Y/N) is particularly late, only a minute has ticked past their original meeting time and a logical part of him know she’s on her way, but a less logical and more nervous part of him can’t help but wonder if she’s decided last minute that he’s not her type.

He busies himself with his surroundings, the contemplative muggle art students, the grumbling children too young to appreciate all of it and their parents ignoring them in the desperate attempt for some sophisticated ‘me time’. He stifles a laugh at the fearful look on the underpaid staff members’ faces as they watch a child go to touch a statue with his grubby fingers.

A minute later, the hurried echo of someone’s foot steps against the museum’s high ceilings approaching pulls him from his distraction. The sight of her jogging towards him pulls a relieved breath from his lips and brings on a grin.

“Sorry I’m late!” (Y/N) exhales. “I got a bit muddled with my directions - muggle London is complicated.”

He grimaces subtly to himself, blinking at her sheepishly.

“Perhaps I should have picked you and we could have travelled together.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She beams at him before adding, “I’m sure you can walk me back?”

Remus’ eyes brighten, something warming in his chest at the realisation she’s thought as far as beyond the date, has imagined it going well enough that she wants him to walk to her home, or at least to Diagon Alley where they can Floo home safely. He nods, possibly too enthusiastically, and her gives him a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“Great!”

They stand there for a second too long just staring at each other with ridiculous smiles. Then, something in the back of Remus mind (sounding distinctly like Sirius teasing him) forces him to clear his throat and look away with a slight blush.

“Should we go then?” He nods towards the various exhibits.

“Oh, yes, of course.” She nods, similarly flustered, “Lead the way, Mr Tour Guide.”

Moving from the foyer area towards the exhibits sees a change in atmosphere from the noisy entrance hall . A silence finds them that feels almost sacred, like to break it would break some unspoken art viewer rule that one mustn’t so much as breathe too loud, else distracting everyone else in the room.

He can feel the pamphlet, grabbed earlier from the information desk, is curled tightly in his hands, and he can’t help but fidget with it as they walk, worrying slightly that this silence does take away the point of a first date. He almost asks her as such.

“hey, is it weird we’re not talking?’

However, as they pace slowly through the exhibits, stopping momentarily to stare at the paintings, a smile finds his lips. (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind at all, her eyes are wide with wonder as they stare up at the colours and stories each painting holds.

It doesn’t take him long to realise that, for the most part, he’s found himself looking to (Y/N) more than the art, watching her eyes scan each painting, smiling at the twinkle that finds her eyes. He’s pretty sure he’s not missing much though, nothing more deserving of his attention.

“They’re amazing.” (Y/N) exhales softly at one point, “It’s hard to believe some of them were painted so long ago.”

“Huh?” Remus blinks, blush rising to his cheeks when she turns to find his eyes. “Oh, yeah.”

She gives him a cheeky grin before turning to the painting again, and this time, Remus mimics her action to look at the painting for himself. He finds himself staring at it for a second rather contemplatively, part of an act perhaps now that he can feel (Y/N) staring at him from the corner of her eye.

“It looks a bit like the Hogwarts Express...” She whispers, “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, actually,” Remus nods, eyes dropping to the small plaque underneath the painting’s frame, “Steam, Speed and Steel... J.M.W Turner.”

(Y/N) nods, rather intrigued by it now. Remus’ attempt to keep his eyes only on the painting are soiled by the small smile that is climbing the cheeks of the girl by his side, and he can’t help the warmth that floods his chest at the sight.

“I’m just thinking about the train to Hogwarts.” She explains in response to his curious eyes, not taking her own from the painting of the train crossing the viaduct, smothered in steam, “It’s where I first realised I had a crush on you, Remus.”

“You did?” He gulps.

“Yeah,” She chuckles breathlessly, “Last year... Your friends were late and you were sitting there alone and you were reading a book but you kept making these weird facial expressions,” She grins, “And I thought ‘ugh, this nerd... he’s just my bloody type’.”

He feigns a hurt look, but the grin climbing his cheeks gives him away. She turns now to meet his eyes with an embarrassed sort of smile and a shrug as if to say ‘what else can you do about it?’. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“I hope you know that today, you’ve been the biggest nerd in the room.” He bites a laugh. “Gushing about paintings and all that.”

“You’re the one who suggested an art gallery.” She laughs.

“Yes, but I think I’m lucky if I’ve looked at more than two paintings since I arrived.”

“Yeah?” She tilts her head dopily, “How come?”

“I’ve been watching you all day instead.”

Her resolve to seem smug cracks and her face softens completely, moving to push him gently as a distraction from the flustered embarrassment taking hold of her expression.

“You sap.”

“You liked it though,” He nudges her shoulder with a chuckle, “Don’t lie.”

“Hmm.”

Their soft laughter fills the space between them, eyes once again held in each other’s gaze. Only once their gentle chuckles have subsided do they appear to realise how they’ve gravitated to one another, so close (Y/N) can hear his nervous gulp.

When his eyes dart sheepishly to her lips, she lets out a shaky breath, the products of a newly establish nervous tension between them. Then, making his eyes light up instantly, she nods.

A second later, her cheeks are cupped in his warm hands and their eyes are fluttering shut. Lips meet tentatively, filled with the same nervous energy as everything has been all day, then his lips press firmly to her own in a kiss so breath taking she finds her fingers curling around the lapels of his denim jacket to steady herself.

“Merlin...” (Y/N) mutters once they’ve pulled apart, “Where have you been hiding that?”

“Keeping it for someone special.” Remus shrugs.

“You spend far too much time with Sirius,” She shakes her head, grinning at him nonetheless.

He’s about to kiss her again, hands falling to her waist, when an impatient sound disrupts them, a woman behind them clearing her throat accusatorily with her hand planted firmly on her hips. Both Remus and (Y/N) are reminded of Madam Pince for a moment.

“Excuse me,” She begins with a frown, “This is an art gallery.”

Remus’ eyes blow wide at her tone and (Y/N) drops her face to his chest to muffle the newly forming laughter that threatens to barrel from her throat. The woman continues in a furious rant on respect and appropriate art gallery behaviour as Remus splutters out apologies in response.

“Yes Ma’am -- I’m so sorry I just couldn’t help--” He chokes, “Sorry, Ma’am it won’t happen again-- we’re just leaving-- Sorry.”

Remus’s fingers intertwine through (Y/N)’s as the woman rambles, nodding apologetically as he pulls them both from the exhibit, (Y/N)’s face burried in his side, her shoulders shaking with laughter as the woman’s complaints follow them from the room.

“Bloody Hell,” He gasps the minute they are free. “She could give Pince a run for her money- oi, stop laughing at my misery!”

(Y/N)’s head is flung back instantly with a cackled laugh, only spurred onwards by her accidental snort. Remus can’t help but join her, both of them soon bent in a fit of giggles that sees them receiving the same disapproving looks from the staff as the grubby fingered child from earlier.

“You looked petrified, Remus.” She manages through a laugh, “Merlin’s beard.”

“You just left me to deal with it myself.” He complains before another laugh bursts from his lips. “Merlin, please don’t tell the boys.”

“I’ve already planned out the reenactment,” She shrugs unapologetically, “It was too good.”

“Mean.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you next time.” (Y/N) assures him.

“Next time?” Remus perks up, “You mean the crazy old lady didn’t scare you off?”

“Merlin, no.” (Y/N) grins, “It was kind of adorable watching you stammer your way out of it.”

“I’m dating a sadist.” He jokes sarcastically.

She shoves his side with an eye roll and squeezes the hand still in her own. She gives him a look, the one he’s been watching all day, that twinkly eyed look of amazement, and he almost leans into kiss her again right there.

“Do you want to go for a coffee at Diagon Alley?” He asks expectantly, “Before we get kicked out of the museum once and for all?”

“I would love that, Remus.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll get harrassed by someone else when I go to kiss you goodbye.” He jokes.

“Is that a promise at another one of those kisses?”

“Definitely.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus imagine #remus lupin imagine #remus imagines #remus lupin imagines #remus x you #marauders imagines #harry potter #moony x reader

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smaidjor · 3 years

Text

i know they're losing (Chapter 1)

hi mothers and fuckers of the jury, this fic is a hot mess but so am I, please appreciate it. Also, obligatory disclaimer this is about the characters not the people, all that important stuff.

Some important notes:

1. You will probably hate Scott just a little at points. He has chronic dumb bitch syndrome and there's a whole lot of bullshit going on in his life that you don't see in this fic because it's not his pov. That being said, he's still a bit of a jerk.

2. This has a lot of lord of the rings lore. A LOT. You may be kinda confused if you're not a lord of the rings fan. It's fine, Jimmy's confused too, and all of it will be explained at some point.

3. The chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films. The general title is from I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski.

4. General content warnings: there is a little blood, and a little violence, and a lot of mentioned death and morbid jokes. If you don't do well with themes involving death this fic is probably not for you. There is also possibly going to be referenced emotional abuse and generally unhealthy ways to raise children, though that will be talked about much further down the line. I will also put specific cws at the start of each chapter, don't worry!

5. The alternate title for this was '10k words of flower husbands being sad'. You have been warned.

Title: i know they're losing

Chapter Title: under clouds, beneath the stars

Current Total Wordcount: 3740

Content Warning: referenced/past character death, very frank discussion of death.

Snippet:

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.”

AO3 Link

Actual fic under the cut

Scott’s hands are cold. That’s the first sign, the chill that’s uncharacteristic of an elf.

Scott’s chest hurts. That’s the second sign, the bone-deep ache he can’t seem to quell.

Scott is weaker than normal, and that’s the third sign, the one that confirms what’s happening beyond a shadow of a doubt. He’s fading, Scott thinks as he leans against a wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. He can’t say he’s surprised, not after all he’s been through; in fact, he’s more astonished it took so long to start.

In another world, it happens like this:

Scott’s hands are cold, and Shubble notices as he shows her around the nether. It’s worrying, a bit, how icy his skin is even in the boiling dimension, but Scott’s empire has always been cold, hasn’t it?

Katherine notices how long it’s been since Scott visited her, one of his few allies, and she worries, a bit. But Scott has always been distant, hasn’t he?

No one notices or worries enough to go check on him, and Scott fades away to nothing, cold and alone in his icy empire.

What actually happens is this:

Katherine has gotten word of the demon that haunts the server, and amongst all her worry, one of her thoughts is ‘has anyone checked on Scott?’. The answer is no, and next time she has a free day, she sets out for Rivendell. It’s not a long trip, not with elytra, anyways, and soon she’s at the doors to his keep.

“I need to see Lord Smajor,” she tells the guards.

“He’s not taking visitors right now.” is the response she gets.

“It’s a vital matter to the safety of both our kingdoms.”

They let her in.

Katherine spends far too long looking around the elegantly decorated downstairs and storage area before she realizes he must be up the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. She’s never been upstairs in Scott’s house before, which makes her a little nervous, but… this is an urgent matter, so she presses on into what turns out to be a very pretty bedroom. Decorated with bookshelves aplenty and gorgeous lanterns, it practically screams Scott.

The man (elf?) himself is harder to spot. At first, Katherine’s worried he isn’t there at all, but eventually she realizes that he’s still in bed despite the fact that it’s a quarter to one, only his pale face sticking out from under the covers.

“Scott?” She asks, cautious. “Lord Smajor?”

He blinks at her tiredly. “Hi, Katherine.”

“I came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?”

“No, no, stay.” He waves at the sole chair in the room, which is near-enough to the bed. “I can muster the energy for a meeting, just don’t ask me to get up.”

Katherine takes the seat hesitantly. “I came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?”

Scott laughs, a little bitter. “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my hand.”

She obeys, confused, and finds that Scott’s hands are like ice despite the warmth of the room.

“Elves don’t get sick like mortals do,” Scott says. “Nor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.”

She gasps a little.

“It usually happens to old elves, world-weary,” Scott continues. “Those who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.”

It takes Katherine a moment to process everything, and once she does, she stares at him in horror. “You’re- fading? But doesn’t it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“Is that old?”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.”

“Oh.” She struggles for words for a moment, settling on “How can you be so calm if you’re dying?”

“I’m tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..I’m tired of fighting it.”

Try as she might, there’s nothing she can say to that. “Is there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?”

Something pained and raw flashes through his eyes. “Technically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, it’s reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.”

Katherine nods seriously, absorbing the information. “We’ll just have to reverse it, then.”

“That’s sweet, Katherine, but I’m dying.”

“No,” she tells him firmly. “You’re not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on what’s happening on the rest of the continent.”

Scott stares at her for a long moment, but eventually he takes her outstretched hand. “Alright.” His hand is frozen cold in hers. “We can try.”

Katherine lets him lead her around Rivendell, pointing out the sights. He’s done an impressive job decorating, like her, and an even more impressive job at uniting the elves and building an empire from the ground up. The people of Rivendell are weary and battle-scarred, for the most part, elves who have seen too much, but the children are bright and happy, and the cyan and gold banners wave proudly in the wind.

As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. “The demon’s already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. That’s not even mentioning the corruption that’s been spreading.”

Scott nods. “There’s corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornoth’s work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya- well, I haven’t been able to do much.”

“Vilya?”

“A ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.”

“Why does Jimmy have it?”

He doesn’t answer that one.

Katherine leaves feeling unsettled, with more questions than answers. She has new resolve, though, and a new goal: keep Scott from fading. He’s a good friend, though they don’t know each other that well yet, but more than that, he’s a powerful ally. And Katherine can’t afford to lose allies. So while they’re both rulers and busy in their own right, she promises to visit and drag him outside at least once a week.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Scott jokes, but his laugh is weak.

Katherine vows to hold herself to it.

The plan works for three entire weeks before Katherine has a week that’s so busy there’s no way she can find the time for a trip to Rivendell. Worse than that, because Scott is so isolated, he has almost no other friends, and many of Katherine’s allies are busy too. She’s a little short of options, to be honest, which is how she finds herself on Jimmy Solidarity’s doorstep that Sunday afternoon.

“Hello?” Jimmy asks as the door swings open. Katherine can see why Lizzie calls him the sweet swamp boy- his confused head tilt is frankly adorable.

“Hi! I know we don’t talk much, but I could use a favor,” she says.

“What can I do for you?”

“I need you to visit Scott.”

Jimmy looks beyond startled. “What- I mean, he doesn’t even like me! I couldn’t possibly.”

“Please?” She wheedles. “I promised him a visitor every week, but I have meetings all week this time.”

He shakes his head, hesitantly at first and then stronger. “No, Katherine. He’d just throw me right out again. I’m his enemy, for goodness sake!”

“If he hates you so much, why do you have his ring?”

Katherine knows she’s won, watching emotions flit across his face too quickly to catch. Grief is what he settles on, and she feels a little bit bad for the ring comment when his voice comes out wobbly.

“I guess I should return that, huh? Alright, I’ll go.”

“Sorry,” she says.

Jimmy brushes it off, saying there’s no need to worry, but he fiddles with the ring on his finger all the more. It’s on his left ring finger, Katherine notes. She wonders if that truly means what it implies.

“I’ll visit him tomorrow,” Jimmy says.

“I’ll hold you to that!”

Jimmy isn’t sure why he agreed to this at all, to be honest. Scott may have given him this ring in another world, another lifetime, but that doesn’t mean Scott doesn’t hate him in this one. What other explanation is there for how all his gifts have been rejected, how cold the elf is? Jimmy would be surprised that Scott’s never tried to take his ring back if it wasn’t for how thoroughly Scott avoids him nowadays. Getting the ring back would require talking to Jimmy, something Scott has made it very clear that he doesn’t want to do. Jimmy doesn’t have another use for it, and try as he might to forget flower fields and warm hands in his, he can’t bear to throw it away. So it’s remained on his hand all this time, a painful reminder of someone who used to love him.

Jimmy tries to avoid looking at it as much as possible, every glimpse bringing back the memory of Scott gently sliding it onto his hand, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a smile on his lips. Even the faint shimmers in the blue gem remind him of how the starlight seemed to get caught in Scott’s hair when they were out at night. The ring had been one of their most valuable possessions on 3rd Life, the rare silver band and elegant forging more than proof of that. Now, though, the ring has to be one of the least valuable things Jimmy owns; on 3rd Life, they were humble folk in little hobbit holes, their most expensive possessions being their diamond armor and swords, but here, they’re kings and lords. Scott probably has a thousand treasures more valuable in his elven empire, so Jimmy’s not sure why he’s bothering to trek all the way across the world just to return this one.

Then again, it’s not really about the ring, and never has been. It’s about the way starlight used to shine in Scott’s eyes when he smiled, his rare, soft grin that was reserved just for Jimmy, how he gave Jimmy the most valuable thing either of them owned. It’s closure, in a way, giving it back. He won’t have any debt to Scott once this ring is returned, and they can both move on like Scott so clearly wants to.

Shaking off those thoughts, Jimmy slows to a stop in front of Scott’s house. It’s grand, nothing like his old hobbit hole, but still so clearly Scott in the decoration and color schemes. Jimmy would know who built it even if he hadn’t known Scott lived in these mountains.

“I’m here to visit Scott,” he says to the guard stationed outside.

They raise an eyebrow, presumably at the familiar way he refers to Scott. “On formal business or personal?”

“Personal? Sort of? I mean, I don’t have any diplomatic reason for being here.” Truth be told, he has no reason to be here at all, really, but...the ring.

“Then Lord Smajor cannot see you.”

Jimmy grits his teeth, suddenly furious at this whole ordeal. “Then tell Lord Smajor that I need to return his ring.”

“May I see it?”

He sticks his hand out obligingly, and the guard examines the ring, surprise blooming across their face. “I did not realize my Lord had lent you Vilya! My apologies, Lord Codfather, I see the alliance between our kingdoms is stronger than I had assumed. You may pass.”

Vilya? “Thank you, gentle, uh, gentleperson!”

The guard dips their head slightly as he walks by, a gesture of respect that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He shakes off the strangeness of the interaction, though, pushing open the door to Scott’s house.

The inside is beautiful, exactly the kind of decor Scott loves...and empty. There’s no one in the spacious kitchen, the storage room, or anywhere else for that matter. Jimmy’s seconds from giving up and going home when he realizes that there are stairs up to the balcony above. That’s where he goes, finding himself in Scott’s bedroom.

Which is awkward, to say the least. It’s not like they never slept in the same room when they were married, but now that there’s this awkward, painful distance between them, Jimmy feels like he’s intruding. What’s worse is, Scott’s still in bed, laying on his side with his face tilted away from Jimmy’s awkward entrance.

“Hello, Jimmy.”

Jimmy half-jumps, not expecting that. “How’d you know it was me?”

Scott rolls over to face him, and Jimmy notes that his face is too pale for it to be natural or healthy. “Do you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?” He goes on before Jimmy can answer. “What are you doing here?”

“Katherine asked me to visit, I’m not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?”

Scott’s laugh is bitter. “Katherine thinks she can save me.”

“Save you from what?” Jimmy asks, concerned despite himself.

His (ex?)husband doesn’t reply.

“Save you from what?” Jimmy presses, and gets no answer yet again.

Instead, Scott sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You should go.” He stands, and immediately stumbles, Jimmy rushing to steady him on instinct. Scott’s hands are like ice when he grips Jimmy’s arm to regain his balance, taking several deep breaths, and Jimmy’s instantly struck by how wrong that feels. Scott’s hands were always warm, even on the coldest nights in 3rd life. Some elven thing, probably, that Scott didn’t want to talk about or have time to explain to a silly human like Jimmy.

“Scott, what is going on?”

The elf brushes him off again, heading for the stairs, but the regal effect is ruined by how hard he has to grip the railing.

“Scott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? What’s happening?”

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.” Scott turns back to the stairs. “Come on. If you’re not going to leave, I might as well show you around.”

Jimmy follows, reluctantly, trying to think of something to say that isn’t incoherent sputtering with a bit of ‘why do you hate me now’ added in. “You can’t just drop something like that on a man, you know!”

“You did ask, to be fair.”

Why oh why is he so stupid around Scott? “I guess so, but- but still, dude.”

Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. “Here.”

Jimmy nods and slips through the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They start along the path, Scott walking far too quickly for Jimmy’s comfort given how terrible the elf’s balance is currently. He nearly has to jog to keep up, irritatingly, but at least they aren’t snapping at each other for a few precious moments.

Of course, Jimmy has to go and ruin that. “So, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?” He has to hear it from Scott’s own lips that he remembers, that it affected him even half as much as it’s affected Jimmy.

“No.”

“Why not? We need to talk about it some time-”

“I said no .”

“It’s literally killing you to not talk about it!”

Scott freezes, face going icy calm in the way Jimmy knows means he’s actually upset. The elf’s hands grip the fabric of his robes tight, his back going rigid. This is a bad idea, Jimmy knows.

He’s in too deep to back out now, though, the pent-up hurt of the past few months all coming out in a rush. “Tell me I’m wrong, Scott! I dare you, tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didn’t bother to bury me, tell me it didn’t hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf who’d live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! ”

Scott breathes out slowly, fury gradually building on his face. “Fine. You want to know what happened after you died? You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldn’t speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy ?”

Jimmy’s name on Scott’s lips punches all the remaining air out of him, sounding so wrong in that angry, bitter tone. Beneath all the rage, Scott sounds wrecked , and the fight leaves Jimmy’s body abruptly. “No,” he says softly. “That’s not what I want to hear, not at all. I’d rather you be happy than love me.”

Silence follows those words, only the faint sound of a waterfall in the distance there to break it.

“I buried you on the hill above our houses,” Scott says finally. “I planted a poppy over your grave.”

“Oh.”

“Grian came over the next day. I didn’t want to see anyone who wasn’t you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.”

Jimmy swallows hard. “Did he?”

“How would I know?” Scott’s tone softens, just a little. “Grian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.”

“He was a good guy,” Jimmy agrees. “A little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I don’t suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now? I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.”

Scott turns away again, starting down the path a second time. He’s not looking at Jimmy when he says “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” It’s a shock, honestly, given that this is the first time the two of them have really spoken since the beginning of empires. “But you burned the pufferfish-”

“I didn’t. I kept it.” Scott still won’t look at him. “I never hated you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy dying,” Scott says dryly, and Jimmy doesn’t even realize it’s a joke until he looks over at Scott’s wry little grin.

“Scott! That’s not funny!” He scolds, aghast.

“It was a little funny.”

“No!”

Scott must hear the genuine distress in Jimmy’s voice because he drops the act. “Jimmy, I’m an elf. I won’t live far beyond you, but only because I’ll fade without you.”

“So your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?” Jimmy demands.

“It does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesn’t it? But I lost you once, and I don’t think I could bear it again.”

Jimmy wants to argue, wants to fight him on this, but there’s nothing he can say. Instead, he puts a hand on Scott’s arm to stop him walking any further. Scott turns to look at him, seemingly startled, and Jimmy throws his arms around the elf.

Scott stiffens before slowly relaxing, arms coming up to wrap around Jimmy in return. It’s not as natural a gesture as it used to be, but it’s warm, gentle in a way Jimmy thought he’d never get again. It reminds him of the soft, starry-eyed boy who put flowers in his hair and laughed at him over a cake. Scott will never be that soft again and Jimmy will never be unscarred, but they’re here. They’re alive, that has to count for something.

Scott pulls back, his expression so achingly tender and heartbroken all at once. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” His voice is raw, a little shaky. “I can’t. Not again.”

“But-”

He’s cut off by Scott shaking his head. “Losing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.”

Jimmy’s in too much shock to speak, the ache in his heart returning tenfold as Scott turns back towards the house.

“Goodbye, Jimmy.” He sweeps away, elegant as ever, but stumbles and nearly falls as he reaches the door. Jimmy’s not there to catch him.

Jimmy stumbles home in a daze. It's somewhat of a miracle that no mob manages to kill him, honestly. To be so close to a resolution, to have the person he wanted most right there in his arms, and then to have all that ripped away- he can’t think of anything that could have hurt more. Even his deaths were less painful than this- at least an arrow through the throat is quicker than feeling like your heart is being ripped out through your ribs, Jimmy thinks, a little bitter. He throws Scott’s stupid ring in a pool in the swamp, watching as it sinks to the bottom of the shallow water with hardly a bubble.

Wait.

The ring.

It’s significant, somehow, according to a Rivendell guard, and more than that, it’s an excuse to see Scott again. One last chance to change his mind about the stupid plan that’s literally killing him.

Jimmy dives in without thinking, scrabbling around until his fingers close around the smooth stone and thin band. When he pulls it out, the gem glitters in the starlight even under the layers of dirt, and it looks like something special. It looks like hope.

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #uhh #empires smp #i wont tag 3rd life since its only referenced #my writing

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themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Poor Unfortunate Soul

Summary: Brain doesn’t think Pinky would be a very good villain. Pinky decides to prove him wrong (but mostly he wants Denny's).

AN: I’ll be honest, Dark Pinky isn’t for me. So how to compromise writing a villainous Pinky with normal Pinky? Well...you’ll see.

AO3 Link

Pinky gasped at the TV, crumbs of popcorn falling out of his mouth. Brain stopped chewing and looked away from the screen, unable to stomach the scene of Lupin and Sirius forcing Pettigrew out of rat form as he attempted to flee the Shrieking Shack.

No matter how many times he’d seen Prisoner of Azkaban, Brain always found it uncomfortable to watch Pettigrew transform into a pathetic, sniveling human who acted like he hadn’t sold his own friends out to a homicidal madman.

Sure, Voldemort was the villain while Umbridge was the personification of government corruption, but there was just something downright insidious about Pettigrew.

Pinky’s eyes were blown wide open as Pettigrew pitifully tried to plead his case. The simpleton was always so surprised about this plot twist no matter how many times he’d seen this movie.

The more he pondered, perhaps Pinky was the exact reason he found Pettigrew worse than the larger threats of the Harry Potter world. The man played into the worst of rodent stereotypes with his cowardly and backstabbing nature.

But Pinky?

Not a single disloyal bone in his body. It was a lesson Brain had taken to heart after his disastrous second birthday. Pinky was far too sweet and simple to even think about betrayal.

Tears flowed down Pinky’s face as Lupin transformed into an emaciated werewolf, so Brain discreetly nudged a pack of Kleenexes his way. Pinky flashed him a grateful, wobbly smile, then reached for a tissue and blew his nose.

Pinky always cried at this part. And while Brain found the scene emotionally gut-punching too, he considered himself above displays of crying during movies.

Mufasa’s death didn’t count. Dirt always lodged in his lacrimal ducts whenever he watched that scene. That was all.

Brain’s fists clenched as the cowardly Pettigrew abandoned everyone to die.

Though his escape was an essential plot point for the rest of the series, Brain wished the protagonists could’ve caught Pettigrew and delivered justice for betraying those who called him a friend.

He knew how the movie played out, but Pinky acted like he was watching it all for the very first time. Sometimes, watching Pinky when he didn’t care what happened on-screen was much more interesting. Especially when Pinky insisted on not skipping Order of the Phoenix.

Pinky hugged his knees, tail draped tightly around him as the Dementors attacked Harry and Sirius. The rest of the movie would be loaded with those undead abominations. Brain had learned from unfortunate experience that Pinky would have nightmares if he didn’t cut off the fear before it took root in his subconscious.

Slowly, Brain moved towards Pinky, careful not to make a sound lest Pinky catch him in the act. He took a deep breath to steel his resolve, placing a hesitant hand on Pinky’s back.

Pinky turned to look at him.

“Eyes on the screen,” Brain commanded. It was easier to do this when Pinky wasn’t watching him.

Pinky obeyed, humming softly as Brain patted soft fur. A long, flowing tail wrapped around a crooked one. Pinky sat up a little straighter.

The Dementors wouldn’t haunt Pinky’s dreams tonight. Not as long as Brain had something to say about it.

o-o-o-o-o

“-and I’m so happy Sirius and Buckbeak got away! D’you think I could ride a hippogriff? Why are they called hippos when they’re not hippos anyway? I don’t think wizards know their animals very well, Brain.” Pinky’s chatter continued into the ungodly hours of the morning. Only the people unfortunate enough to work early morning shifts on Saturday would be awake at this time.

Brain rolled onto his stomach, covering his ears with his pillow to block out all the extraneous noise. One con about taking nights off from world domination was that his body just didn’t want to sleep even when he was tired, and Pinky’s exuberance only amplified the issue.

“Troz! Prisoner of Azkaban is my favorite out of the Harry Potter movies. But my favorites are also Sorcerer’s Stone and Chamber and Goblet...oh! And Order has Luna Lovegood of course! Love her! What’s your favorite, Brain?” Pinky asked. “Ooh, you shouldn’t lay like that. You need to breathe!”

The pillow was completely ineffective as a sound buffer. Brain was sorely tempted to keep up his current position out of pure spite, but he had to give up and lay on his side so he wouldn’t suffocate.

“No favorite. Hippogriffs are fictional. Hippo is Greek for horse and does not refer to a hippopotamus in this context. You think cows cluck and chickens moo, Pinky. Now go to sleep,” Brain sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

Perhaps he could trick his exhausted mind into believing Pinky wasn’t there if he couldn’t be seen.

He had an urge to stay awake though. If his subconscious latched onto hippopotamuses, he’d just have that nightmare with the rich hippo couple and Rockefeller baby all over again. He shuddered at that memory. The pain and humiliation from that hippo-sized booster shot had been oddly vivid.

“Okay. G’night, Brain.” The bed shifted as Pinky flopped onto his back.

All was quiet.

Brain curled into a more comfortable position, ready to drift off to a dream world where he was an emperor on a golden throne, Pinky was dressed in royal finery while leading a resounding chorus of We are the World, and all knelt before their authority.

“Brain?”

And there went the dream.

“What?” Brain snapped. Part of him wanted to knock Pinky out himself, but that would require moving his arms. He didn’t want to move out of his current position.

“Just pondering. Poit,” Pinky yawned. “Before sleep ponderings. Those kinds are the best, Brain. Cause they get weird and tangerine-y. Bet you get those too.”

It was true. When his plans weren’t derived from Pinky’s inane ramblings or current events, they were often the product of pre-sleep thoughts. While he wrote down all he could remember afterwards, the plans pulled from those tangents tended to be the craziest and illogical in hindsight.

He tried not to rely on them too much, but if his conqueror’s block was high or creativity levels were low, he didn’t have much choice.

“Yes,” Brain confirmed.

But his curt answer wasn’t enough to deter Pinky.

“Cause I was pondering about villains,” Pinky said. “Like Pettigrew. Cause what if I had something that makes me a villain?”

As much as Brain wanted to dismiss the idea of a villainous Pinky due to the sheer absurdity of the concept, he supposed it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility either.

But Pinky as a villain? A mouse who gave up his soul for the sake of Brain’s desires and argued against promoting harmful cigarettes to children?

It was just ludicrous.

“Pinky, you lack many prerequisites for proper villainy,” Brain said. “Except for the dramatics. That’s the only trait you have in common.”

“Oh. Well, I could certainly try,” Pinky replied.

Yes, and someday pigs would evolve and develop flight capabilities.

If he were in a clearer state of mind, he would’ve argued out of obstinance. But right now, it was incredibly early on a Saturday morning and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Discussions on villainy and world domination could wait a few hours.

“If you can prove me wrong, you can select the next restaurant we’ll go to,” Brain yawned.

Pinky rarely got to choose the restaurant, given Brain’s sophisticated palate, but at this point he was willing to try anything to get Pinky off his back.

Then Pinky went from figuratively being on his back to pressing against it, his tail curling around Brain’s. Pinky’s jaw rested against the back of Brain’s head. The added pressure released a tenseness around Brain’s shoulders, one that he’d been previously unaware of.

“Denny’s,” Pinky murmured, nuzzling the back of Brain’s ear. The sensitive appendage flicked. Nobody was around to witness that involuntary reflex, so Brain let it pass. “A Grand Slam with pancakes and syrup and bacon n’ eggs…”

Within seconds, Pinky was out like a light. He wouldn’t remember this conversation, too busy thinking with his stomach instead of properly pondering with that fluffball of a mind.

With Pinky’s warm fur against his back and soft narfs against his ear, Brain’s thoughts gently trickled away and yielded to peaceful sleep.

o-o-o-o-o

Though it was probably noon by now, Brain still didn’t want to open his eyes. Why bother? No scientists to pester them, no leftover plans or materials to hide away so they wouldn’t be discovered, no tedious mazes to run on Saturday.

Pinky had gotten up sometime before him, and the space beside him was empty, giving Brain room to stretch out in whatever way he liked.

Then he heard a harsh scraping noise, like someone was dragging something heavy across the counter. That wasn’t unusual for Pinky if an object caught his short attention span for some inane reason.

However, there was also the sound of laughter accompanying the noise. Pinky was giggly and bubbly to a fault, but this brand of laughter was different.

Almost malevolent.

A chill ran up his spine, but Brain ignored the feeling. Pinky’s evil laugh was still firmly in Saturday morning cartoon villain territory, he told himself.

Even if he sounded a little too good at being evil.

Apparently, Pinky had remembered the bet after all.

Brain slowly opened his eyes, about to find Pinky and tell him to knock it off, only to find that it was much darker than it should be for daytime. But it wasn’t dark enough to impede his vision. When he looked up, he found a sheet had been pulled over the entire cage. He couldn’t see anything outside the cage.

Pinky being secretive would surely spell disaster. And it hadn’t been there last night, so Pinky was the only culprit.

The wheel stood empty, a fresh oil can beside it. Brain rubbed his eyes, partly to wake himself up and partly out of disbelief. He was normally a light sleeper, but if he hadn’t heard Pinky maintain his wheel at all, then he must’ve had a deeper sleep than he thought.

He climbed out of bed and marched towards the unlatched cage door, though the corner of the sheet was pulled over it. He would’ve swept it aside, but an unopened cup of Rice Krispies with a half-empty bottle of milk, napkin, and spoon conspicuously placed next to the door gave him pause from leaving the cage.

His stomach growled.

“Well played, Pinky,” Brain admitted. A breakfast barricade to delay him? It was rather creative, not that he’d ever let Pinky know.

The Rice Krispies made satisfactory snap, crackle, and pop noises as Brain poured the milk inside. Then he scarfed down the cereal, half-expecting Pinky to come in and drag him outside for whatever he planned.

But Pinky seemed content to let him eat first.

Once he finished eating, he dragged the empty cereal cup and milk bottle behind him. But even his simple two-step plan of throwing his current load into the garbage and finding Pinky were laid to waste the moment he set foot outside the cage.

For Pinky had unleashed his inner interior designer and completely transformed the room in such a short timeframe.

Large, sweeping blackout curtains covered the windows, even the skylight. According to the digital clock atop the TV, it was 12:30 in the afternoon. But if Brain didn’t know any better, he would’ve believed it was midnight.

No wonder he’d been so inclined to sleep in.

Long strands of Christmas lights hung on each dark blue wall, which was otherwise untransformed. Other than the digital clock, they were the only available light source. But rather than their usual festive association, the unblinking reds, greens, and blues lent a rather ominous, otherworldly quality to the room.

Brain dispelled the fear. It was irrational when he’d traversed the dark lab at night a million times before.

Perhaps he was focusing too hard on dumping the leftover milk into the sink. With absolute concentration, he pushed the empty cup and bottle over the counter’s edge and into the garbage can below.

As he backed away from the edge, he saw a large mixing bowl with a stepladder set by it. Wisps of steam rose from the inside of the bowl. This must’ve been the source of the scraping sound he’d heard earlier. Curious, Brain climbed the stepladder and peered inside.

It was just warm water though.

He tried not to feel too disappointed. But even if it was mundane right now, surely it had to be here for a reason, right?

Or Pinky didn’t have any reason at all and he just wanted to fill a mixing bowl with boiled water. Both options were possibilities.

As he continued his search for Pinky, he walked past rows upon rows of test tubes filled with brightly colored substances. Electric green, dreadful purple, deceptively calm cerulean…

He wasn’t sure what kind of chemistry experiments they were running, but he wished someone had enough sense to label the test tubes.

Beakers and tubing distorted his reflection, a prickling sensation traveling down his spine and forcing his fur to stand on end. He smoothed it down so he didn’t bear a passing resemblance to a cotton ball. The slightly colder than normal temperature wasn’t helping.

The distortion was simply a natural refraction of light passing through liquids. That’s all. There was no reason to get worked up over natural phenomena.

That didn’t stop him from leaping back when a wide, smiling human face suddenly appeared as he navigated a sea of flasks.

His heart threatened to leap out of his chest, his breaths growing heavier.

There weren’t any humans in the lab right now, he reminded himself. And the smiling face was frozen and unmoving. It wasn’t real.

Brain cautiously poked his head around the flask, keeping it as a buffer between himself and the unknown threat.

Against the wall, several of Pinky’s Barbie and Ken dolls sat in a row. The one whose face appeared on the flask was on the far left, her blonde hair in a ponytail. All of the dolls were in colorful swimwear. One of the Ken dolls had a pair of sunglasses perched on his head.

The dolls were normal. No creepy alterations or missing body parts.

But as Brain approached and inspected the dolls closely, their positioning seemed...odd.

Yes, their plastic visages displayed smiles as if they were en route to a Miami beach party, but their arms were stretched above their heads or out to the sides in warning. Their legs laid flat against the ground. Duct tape trapped their legs to the ground and wrapped against their torsos, sticking them firmly to the wall and preventing them from falling over.

An interesting choice for decor, to say the least.

But enough was enough. Time to find Pinky and force a coherent explanation out of him.

One of the Barbie's arm pointed to the back of the room, so Brain followed her instruction. It led him straight to Pinky’s dollhouse, and Brain cursed himself for being so taken in with the environment that he’d neglected to check one of Pinky’s favorite toys.

The pink plastic door was wide open, a deadly invitation into danger. Brain’s ears pricked as a song floated through the air.

“Things are working out according to my ultimate design,

Soon I’ll have that little rodent and the planet shall be mine!”

The melody was accompanied by a sinister cackle.

Brain wanted to barge in and demand Pinky to cease his foolishness immediately, but his fingers curled against the doorframe instead, urging him to heed caution.

“I can hear you!” Pinky singsonged from behind a section of dollhouse that was curtained off with jingling Mardi Gras beads. “Won’t you come inside so we can talk properly?”

Brain rolled his eyes, sweeping the bead curtain away. “Pinky, I’m aware of our deal, but this is rather excess-”

Then his mind registered the scene that lay before him.

Pinky perched on a stool in front of a mirror as he applied a red coating of lipstick. That wasn’t unusual for him.

But he was also clad in a backless floor-length dress with thigh-high slits. The dress was dark as night, leaving his shoulders and arms exposed. His fur was dyed a light lavender, save for his messy white tuft, which was gelled so that it stood straight up.

A small seashell necklace sat just above the low cut dress, purple earrings hanging from each ear. Pinky didn’t turn around, blinking coyly at Brain in his reflection, which sported heavy blue eyeshadow.

He set the lipstick down, and Brain stared at the enchanting movement of manicured, polished red nails as deft fingers picked up a small brush and dipped it into a makeup kit. Then Pinky applied a beauty mark next to his lips.

The next thing out of Brain’s mouth was a very intelligent ‘um’.

“You shouldn’t lurk in doorways,” Pinky purred, his voice low and sultry. “It’s very rude. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

She didn’t have time to teach him a lot of things, given his kidnapping at an early age, but that wasn’t the point.

“Why in Ptolemy’s name are you Ursula out of all villains?” Brain asked, once his voice came back.

At least it explained why Pinky had redecorated the room to resemble an underwater cavern that doubled as a villainous lair. It was an excellent use of space.

And the Barbies and Kens...those were the stand-ins for the helpless sea polyps.

Pinky must’ve been deriving a lot of satisfaction at seeing that realization dawn on Brain.

“Why not?” Pinky shrugged. He puckered his lips and kissed his reflection, leaving a red lip-shaped mark behind. “Besides...isn’t there something you’re after? Something you want oh so very much, but haven’t been able to get?”

Brain scowled. “You know perfectly well that I’m trying to rule the world, Pinky.”

Pinky snapped his fingers. “And that’s what I can help you with! The only way to get what you want...is to become a human yourself.”

Well, he’d never considered that before in the pursuit of world domination. There was something about manipulating his genetic code and changing his species that didn’t sit well with him, even though he detested the challenges that came with being a lowly lab mouse.

But it made sense.

Humans only respected humans. Becoming a member of the dominant species would be an asset for sure!

But Pinky didn’t have the means to make that happen...right?

“You don’t know how to manipulate mouse DNA into a human one,” Brain said.

“Oh my dear, sweet Brain,” Pinky crooned as he stood up, slinking over to Brain. Brain crossed his arms, forcing himself to stare Pinky straight in the eye and not show any signs of yielding. He made a point out of not watching those sashaying hips and tail. “Helping poor, unfortunate mice like yourself is my one passion in life! Why, without it, I’ll have to slink away and become a crazy cat lady! And then who will those poor souls turn to?”

“A glass of alcohol, I presume,” Brain replied.

Pinky’s tail came to rest around Brain’s shoulders. The tip tickled Brain’s nose, and he held it away from his face as Pinky pulled him out of the dollhouse and back to the tied up Barbie and Ken dolls. “Maybe, maybe...but a real person they can lean on, I mean. One that knows a little...magic.”

He flicked his finger at a beaker filled with a lavender substance. The beaker sailed through the air, dumping its contents into the mixing bowl. A purple haze rose from the bowl.

“That’s telepathy, not-”

Pinky gently pressed a finger to Brain’s mouth to hush him. “Oh, ye of little faith,” he scolded. “It’s true that I did some rather — how would you phrase this gently — unsavory things before. But I’ve repented! Turned over a new leaf! Seen the light! And now I use my talents for those lonely and miserable enough to seek my services.”

Then Pinky moved away from Brain, flicking his tail against Brain’s nose to direct his attention to the wall. Pinky wrapped his arm around the Barbie with a red polka-dotted bikini. “You see, Barbie here grew up where she didn’t have much opportunity. Poor girl had to work two jobs to make ends meet, and hardly a cent to show for it! So I offered her a chance to get away from it all...and she took it.”

Brain gulped as Pinky moved onto the Ken doll next to Barbie. He was awfully convincing, even when the subject in question was inanimate. Pinky played with the ascot around Ken’s neck. “And this young man? Well, he wasn’t having much luck with the ladies. So I gave him a few pointers, maybe a knickknack or two to help speed things along. However…”

Pinky indicated the tape that bound the dolls to the wall. “I wouldn’t worry about this too much, since you’re a mouse of your word, but sometimes...they couldn’t pay me back in time. So I found a different way to collect their debt.”

“Yes, I’m sure you have much to gain from restraining children’s toys,” Brain said, tilting his head up to hide his uneasiness.

They looked less marketable and more like hapless victims wallowing in despair, despite their smiling faces. He chalked it up to the wall’s resemblance to a dimly lit marine cave.

“Oh, I get some odd complaints every now and then,” Pinky shrugged. “But alas, that’s what happens in this business.”

He plucked a purple sash from Barbie and wrapped it around his head, fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

Not that he was fooling Brain.

But he didn’t have time to process that nonverbal gesture, for Pinky threw the sash around Brain, his tail looping around Brain’s waist. With the sash locking his arms against his sides, he was helplessly corralled to the mixing bowl. He dug his feet into the surface beneath him, but it was no use. Pinky was far stronger than he.

In physical terms of course. He tried to keep his eyes on Pinky’s face and not his...well, he was a male mouse...he didn’t have...unless he padded...

Stop, Brain.

A finger slipped under Brain’s chin, tilting his head up. “Not to worry,” Pinky purred, and the room suddenly went from cold to sweltering. “I have your solution right here.”

To emphasize his point, blue and green test tubes poured their contents into the bowl. The colors melded together, the resulting haze forming a rough image of the world.

“Here’s the deal. I’ll make a potion that can turn you into a human for three days,” Pinky declared, dragging his finger along Brain’s chin. Now that Pinky’s grip had loosened, Brain ripped the sash out of Pinky’s hands and threw it aside.

The stroke of Pinky’s finger along Brain’s fur was enticing, and he pushed it away exactly for that reason.

“Before sunset on the third day, you’ve got to find someone of royal blood,” Pinky said. A golden liquid swirled out of a beaker and formed a crown in the center of the world. It was an image of which Brain had dreamed of for so long. He tried to touch it, but it was far out of reach for him. “Then this charming person has to fall in love with you.”

That sounded...feasible. Three days was a rather generous deadline. Most of the time, they were on a time crunch between eight to twelve hours.

Pinky produced a pink felt heart and held it between two fingers. “Then you have to seal your love with a kiss. And not just any old peck on the cheek, but a kiss of true love.”

A what?

Brain huffed. Of course this plan would have such a ridiculous stipulation. He’d gotten his hopes up for nothing.

...and why was he treating this like it was real?

Because Pinky.

Yes, that was the only explanation. And not even a rational one.

“Oh dear, don’t pout so,” Pinky smirked. The expression was fogging up Brain’s mind. “What else is there to seal amour but with true love’s kiss? It’s a tried and true method, after all.”

He chuckled at his own joke. Brain rolled his eyes.

“If this certain someone kisses you by sunset on the third day, you’ll have the world permanently. But if they don’t, you turn back into a mouse.”

Pinky tossed the felt heart into the mixing bowl, the solution emitting a pink puff of smoke.

“And you belong to me.”

A dangerous edge crept into Pinky’s tone as he whispered into Brain’s ear, and the appendage fluttered uncontrollably until Brain forcefully snatched it to cease its movement.

Pinky tossed a hair tie, penny, and eraser nub into the mixing bowl, then leaned against a long pencil case as he awaited Brain’s reply.

“Suppose I agree to your deal. What then?” Brain asked.

“Well, there’s the matter of payment,” Pinky admitted. He stretched his lower limbs and tail as he rolled onto his stomach, exposing his long lavender-dyed legs. Brain tried not to watch the motion too closely for fear of hypnotism. “If you want something so badly, something of equal value has to be given. Equivalent exchange, as they say.”

“And what exactly do you want?” Brain asked, though he knew the answer.

He’d seen the movie.

“Your voice.”

Pinky’s smile was too wide and manic for Brain’s comfort.

“In other words...” Pinky hummed as he leaned forward, his nose was just an inch away from Brain. “...no more talking, singing, zip!”

He popped the consonant and mimed zipping his mouth, throwing away an invisible key.

It was so warm that Brain couldn’t feel his face.

“Now, now. Don’t be alarmed, Brain.” Pinky stretched luxuriously as he stood up. His tail slinked around Brain’s waist again. “You have your pretty face. And you shouldn’t underestimate the importance of...body language.”

Pinky’s hip bumped into Brain’s, his leg sliding all the way out of the slit of his dress. He batted his eyelashes and blew a kiss to an invisible audience.

Brain covered his face, ears flat against his back. He was fine. Just had to think about...something. What was he trying to picture exactly?

No mathematical formula could save him from the horror that was stupid, sexy Pinky. Curse those mathematical miscreants! They abandoned him in his time of need!

Pinky climbed up and down the stepladder, tossing chemicals and liquids and all sorts of things inside. The bowl rocked back and forth dangerously, bubbles spilling down the sides.

Brain didn’t dare get close. The inside of the bowl surely were an unholy abomination.

But that didn’t stop Pinky.

“Now a dash of zort, a sprinkle of poit! Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble! Fire burn and cauldron bubble!” Pinky cackled, throwing his arms up in the air. “Abracadabra troz! Bibbidi bobbidi narf!”

The mixture now to his satisfaction, Pinky flicked his finger at a notepad and pen, sending them hurtling towards Brain.

“Just sign on the dotted line, you poor unfortunate soul,” Pinky said.

Well...playing along couldn’t hurt. Even when there was a biohazard right in front of him.

And no, the bowl’s contents weren’t the biohazard here.

Brain took a deep breath and signed his name.

The moment he finished, the notepad and pen flew out of his hands and into the bowl.

Pinky wiggled his fingers over the bowl, green smoke rising to the ceiling and seeping past the edges of the blackout curtains to the outside. No smoke detectors went off, though Brain wasn’t surprised. ACME was rather lax on safety protocols.

“Beluga sevruga, come winds of the Caspian Sea!

Larengix glaucitis

Et max laryngitis

La voce to me!”

With a wide grin that spread from ear to ear, Pinky climbed down the stepladder and placed one hand on his seashell necklace, the other tickling the base of Brain’s neck. Brain ducked his head instinctively to stop the ticklish sensation, trapping Pinky’s hand under his jaw.

“Now sing.”

It was rare that Pinky commanded. Brain hated taking orders, yet something compelled him to obey.

Those coy blue eyes demanded, so Brain willingly gave.

And he sang.

Though he was hoarse from surprise at first, Pinky’s finger traced the outline of his neck, up his chin, to the corner of his mouth. Brain imagined his voice growing stronger...could see his voice taking physical form, flowing out of him and into Pinky’s seashell necklace.

Pinky doubled over in laughter as an explosion rocked the counter. The bowl sparked and smoked, its base clattering against the surface with loud metallic bangs.

Brain broke out of his trance as a sludge-like wave with various melted objects slithered down the rim, creeping ever closer.

He wasn’t taking any chances.

Grabbing his maniacally howling companion by the arm, Brain quickly bopped him over the head to halt the laughter, then dragged him over to the window for a quick escape. Pinky recovered from the bop and shimmied past the blackout curtain. Brain took a moment to collect the ACME credit card he’d pilfered from an employee several weeks ago, then followed Pinky onto the windowsill.

Pinky jumped first, safely landing in the bushes below. Holding the credit card above his head, which was no easy feat since the card was about the same size as him, Brain jumped as an explosion rocked the building, and his ears flattened instinctively to shield him from the worst of the noise.

As predicted, he landed in Pinky’s arms.

And it was somewhat mortifying now that Pinky’s eyes had gone from coy to blindingly innocent, even with the heavy eyeshadow. Shoving the card between himself and Pinky’s face, Brain climbed out of his arms.

“Narf! So how’d I do, Brain?” Pinky asked. “Was I convincing?”

Brain dusted off a bit of lavender dye that had rubbed onto his arm. He hoped it was fur-friendly. “You created a dangerous biohazard, toyed with my perception of reality, and overall you were a flirtatious nuisance.”

Pinky’s tail stopped wagging.

“So yes. You were indeed a convincing villain,” Brain said. He tapped the credit card. “And to fulfill the conditions of our original deal, I shall now treat you to Denny’s.”

He was a mouse of his word.

“Hoorah!” Pinky cheered. He twirled around in excitement, his black dress swirling around him as he danced all the way to the sidewalk. “Let’s go, Brain! I wanna look at all the lovely pictures on their menu!”

“You’re going like that?” Brain called after him. Didn’t he want to change out of the Disney villainess ensemble?

“Well you’re naked! So there!” Pinky stuck his tongue out at him.

With a sigh, Brain joined his companion on the sidewalk. Pinky skipped over to a patch of white flowers blooming next to the sidewalk, gently cupping the petals and cooing at a ladybug which landed on a blade of grass next to his foot.

Truly a convincing villain.

And Brain’s poor unfortunate soul was helpless under his power.

End AN: I deny selecting Poor Unfortunate Souls over other villain songs specifically for the body language line. You can’t prove anything.

I HC that Brain would hate Pettigrew more than any other Harry Potter character. I was trying to write a villainous Pinky...somewhere along the way he turned into Pinky Suavo. I don’t get it either XD

There's some folks taking care of the biohazard the mice left behind. Don't worry, the lab's still standing. It's just their problem while the mice get Denny's.

#patb disney #patb fanfiction #pinky and the brain

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cassanovancats · 3 years

Text

felicitate. eight.

seven < current > nine

Dec. 22-24, 2017

The next couple of days is spent mostly watching the whirlwind of your classmates and teachers preparing. You, Maki, and Yuta are left to your own devices which means you three are often spotted walking aimlessly around campus. You especially have spent the passing days considering what your brothers will be facing, and trying to strategize against the unknown Satoru warned you about. It’s after your daily meditation you decide fuck it.

Everyday as a sorcerer is spent wondering if it’ll be your last. You see horrors far beyond any normal person’s imagination, all to protect people who will never know you exist if you do your job right. To do this job, to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you must constantly be ready to die. You have seen plenty of colleagues' horribly mangled bodies already as a first-year. It’s common. In fact, the fact that your entire class is still alive is an anomaly. And after meditating on the ever-increasing likelihood that death will touch your life far closer than it ever has before, you decide there is no need to hide feelings that Satoru insists are reciprocated.

You approach Inumaki first, since he was also raised in the jujutsu world and likely to be open to your proposition. You explain all of your reasoning before taking a deep breath and getting to the heart of the issue, “I-I like you. Maybe even love.”

“Salmon,” he beamed, markings exposed in the sanctuary of your room. He’s especially beautiful in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, clutching a stuffed animal he had won for you at a festival years ago.

“But I also like Yuta. I haven’t talked to him yet, but I’m interested in trying this between all of us.” Your hands twist over each other in anxiety. Even with the decision to no longer try to deny feelings, it is hard to be so open. How on Earth did Satoru manage to be so aloof about relationships? You see Toge’s hand cover yours.

“Salmon, bonito flakes,” he reassures, leaning down to catch your eyes. A weight lifts off your shoulders. You didn’t fuck up your friendship and he’s equally interested in a relationship. Inumaki watches you smile for the first time since you dragged him from the hallway. He slowly places a hand on your chin and lifts your head to face him. “Salmon roe?”

You nod, but don’t wait for him to close the gap. Leaning up, you lightly kiss his lips, eyes fluttering close at their softness. There’s a small tingling sensation, one you have long associated with the surge of cursed energy mixing with yours. It's an exhilarating feeling when copying someone's technique, but like this, you think it's addicting. You pull back first, sighing happily with your eyes still closed. You wear matching blushes and smiles.

“I know you have to get back to preparing to leave….” You bite your lip reluctant to let him leave after finally getting a taste. You had known Toge since you were both children thanks to clan meetings. Only in the past year, working closely and interacting frequently, have you realized your feelings for the boy. Now there is a chance to have him and Yuta, if you are able to explain how polyamory isn’t so strange for sorcerers (though historically, it has been accompanied by power imbalances in favor of the strongest sorcerer in the relationship).

“Tuna?”

“Just happy,” you nuzzle your forehead into his neck before sitting up straight. “I’ll talk to Yuta, since we both will be here at the school. Then, if he agrees and when you get back,” you poke a finger in his ribs, “all in one piece, we can talk about how this will work.”

“Salmon,” He gives one more last, quick kiss before leaving your room. You slide to the floor against your door, sighing happily. God, Satoru is going to be so smug. You bite your lip to hide your lovesick smile, pulling your phone out to text him an update on your lovelife.

You didn’t get a chance to talk to Yuta for a while. When you had finally collected yourself enough to leave your room, he was nowhere to be found on campus. The next morning, your class ate breakfast together before everyone left for their posts. Yuta had been there, of course, but he hesitated before sitting across from you and Inumaki (strange on its own - you three often all sat together). Even then, Yuta blushed and avoided eye contact with you and Toge, looking especially flustered at the casual, platonic skinship you shared with everyone. Not to mention the heavy atmosphere of a looming battle. You resolved to find him after everyone left; less people on campus meant less people interrupting, anyways. You sent everyone off with a hug, but your brothers and Toge got an additional kiss on the cheek.

(Megumi made a show of wiping it off and snarling at you. You wonder how long his rebellious phase will last.)

It took a while, but you were finally able to track Yuta’s energy to the empty training room. He was comparing his katana’s blade to a few other swords kept by the school. “You know, half of those are technically on loan from the Gojo clan. The other half is almost entirely from the Zen’in clan, but there’s one or two from Toge’s family and other small clans.” You muse, tracing the intricate design on the handle of one you recognized as belonging to your family. Yuta jumped from your sudden appearance. “Wanna spar? It seems like maybe you’re avoiding me but I wanted to talk to you. If I did something wrong you can get that aggression out before we talk,” You offer.

“No! I-I mean, no, I’m not avoiding you. Yeah, we can spar if you want.”

You smirk a little, “Alright.” You grab one of the wooden staffs next to the actual blades and shrug off your jacket. Gesturing to the center of the room where a circle marks a training ring, you say, “No cursed energy. I haven’t warmed up any.”

Yuta nods and takes his position opposite you. “Ready?” He asks. He waits for your nod before rushing forward, catching you off guard. You click your tongue, surprised at how fast he moved to attack. Your staff connects with a harsh clash, blocking his before it gets too close to your body. He retreats slightly, clearly analyzing you for any weak spots, and asks, “What did you need to talk about?”

“Toge and I and you…. Maybe” Grunting, you move to attack but Yuta side-steps. You plant your feet and use momentum to change your direction to where he now stands. He grits his teeth when you connect a hit. “I know you grew up normally, but we like each other and you.” You take a few steps back, knowing this possible mental blow is best delivered without a physical one. “And I think you like us, too.”

Yuta’s mouth hangs open, gaping at you and loosening his grip on his staff. “W-what? Like - like all three of us -?” He seems unable to complete the sentence.

“Yeah,” You nod, moving forward to sweep his feet out from under him. It’s a simple move, one he learned to avoid months ago, but he seems defenseless right now. You stand and pin him to the ground with the end of your staff against his forehead. “I know it’s somewhat strange out there,” you wave your hand dismissively, “but sorcerers have done it for ages. Toge and I know that, but you don’t have the same background.”

“But I thought - you two kissed!” He points an accusing finger.

“How did you know that?” You frown, cocking your head to the side. You shake the question away, deciding it didn’t matter, and offer a hand to help him up. He ignores it. “I mean, the first hurdle here is knowing if you like both of us.”

Yuta blushes furiously but doesn’t refute you. It takes him a second to recover from how blunt you said it but eventually he manages to spit out an affirmative. The brightness of your smile takes him longer to recover from.

“Great! That’s really good. Toge-kun will be excited to hear that.” You wipe some sweat off your forehead and try to contain your excitement. “Since he’s away right now, I think we should wait to have this conversation in person. Neither of us want you to feel pressured to agree for whatever reason either, so it’ll give you some time to think about it.” You move to leave him alone to do just that, but you can’t stop yourself from giving one last big smile. “I’m really happy you’re even thinking about this, Yuta.”

You spend the rest of the day with your head in the clouds, completely over the moon at the idea of your new relationship. Satoru loses his mind when you call to give a status update, which causes you to dissolve into a puddle of lovesick goo. At dinner, where it’s just you, Yuta and Maki, you can’t help your puppy-dog eyes. Maki kicks your shin several times, embarrassed just from looking at you.

You keep to your word though, so much so when Yuta approaches you on the next day, you ask several times if he is sure he wants to talk now. You hadn’t even had much time to think about the logistics of a poly relationship, too focused on how to keep your preparations a secret. It was surprisingly hard to hide your smuggled bow and quiver until you reached a rooftop near the entrance. Eventually you yield though, and he drags you to an empty classroom. “(y/n), I really want to tell you not to take this the wrong way, but honestly, there’s no right way to take it.” You feel your stomach drop, but he continues, oblivious. “I just can’t be in a relationship.”

“Like, in a relationship with Toge and I specifically?” You’re not sure where the strength to ask that question came from. You’re not even sure you want to hear the answer.

“Yes,” He finally makes eye contact. “I mean, no! God,” Yuta runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I’ve never had to reject anyone before, jeez. You two, both of you,” he blushes heavily, “are the only ones I see myself in a relationship with. I just can’t be in one when I have Rika. It doesn’t feel right.”

You nod, trying to hide the hurt and embarrassment you think you just might drown in. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Yuta sighs.

“Well, I guess I’ll tell Toge then. Unless you wanted to?” You offer hopefully, but he shakes his head. “Alright. I hope we can still be friends, Yuta.” You instinctively go to hug him but stop yourself halfway. Muttering a soft apology, you brush past him to leave.

You go straight to where you had hidden your bow, bringing along a sword for close-ranged fighting. All borrowed from the school, but you made sure to take ones originally from the Gojo clan as an extra reassurance. You really needed that reassurance now.

#felicitate #cass.writes #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #inumaki x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #inumaki x reader x yuta #female!reader #jjk spoilers #jjk volume 0 spoilers

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