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reinerispretty · 4 years

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rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt5

hi!! thank you so much for reading! again, i’m sorry for posting so much i just have a bunch of stuff pre-written and it’s fun to get it out there!

pt1

pt4

pt 6

“No one deserves to have their home destroyed, or have their family members ripped away from them! I saw what the Fire Nation did in my own city and countless others. The Fire Nation isn’t what I thought it was.” Her eyes welled with tears. “And neither are you.”

(Y/N) rested her chin on her hands as Appa flew over the land. It had been a few days since she had joined the Avatar and his friends, but already had she experienced way more than she ever would have in her life in the Fire Nation. Just the other day, they had saved an entire town from a volcano! She wasn’t a powerful enough bender to control lava, but she did help steer Appa so the sky bison could use his airbending to cool it down. She and the group decided that it was best if they saved her firebending for a rainy day. People in the towns that they were visiting weren’t too keen on having firebenders there.

From Appa, if she looked down, she could see dark spots across the green and yellow lands. Burned land. She had seen enough of it from her balcony of her mansion back in the Earth Kingdom. Her father had explained to her why their soldiers burned the peoples’ land. “Destroying what they need to survive keeps them in their place,” he had said. She remembered her stomach turning sour as soon as the words left his mouth.

“For the longest time, I believed that what the Fire Nation was doing was good and necessary. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“Yeah, people from the Fire Nation tend to be pretty dumb.” Sokka polished his boomerang. She turned around to glare at him.

“You don’t get it. They don’t teach us in our schools that we’re burning down villages for the fun of it. They tell us that we’re only trying to help. They brainwash the kids into thinking that all we’re--all they are trying to do is make a better life for everyone.”

“Just because you didn’t know what the Fire Nation was doing doesn’t excuse them for what they did,” Sokka shot back. She huffed, feeling her anger growing.

“I never said that!”

“Well you’re acting like it!”

“I literally saved you from Fire Nation soldiers!”

“Guys, can we please stop fighting?” Aang sighed. “It’s making Appa uncomfortable.”

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want Appa to be uncomfortable, now would we?” Sokka scoffed. She chucked her pillow at him.

“You’re the rudest person I’ve ever met! The Fire Nation as a whole does not represent who I am!” Huffing, she turned away from Sokka and tilted her chin up to the sky.

It was nightfall before anyone talked again. Sokka was fast asleep toward the back of Appa’s saddle. Katara had crawled over to (Y/N), who sat sulking as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry for what Sokka said earlier,” She said, her blue eyes kind and soft. “We know the Fire Nation doesn’t define who you are as a person. It’s just really hard for Sokka and I to get comfortable with you being around. You see, Fire Nation soldiers raided our villages and killed our mother.”

(Y/N) felt her anger slip away and be replaced with guilt. If she had known that, she wouldn’t have let herself become so quick to anger. Sokka was dealing with emotions that she couldn’t possibly understand.

“I’m sorry for getting angry,” she said quietly. “I had no idea the Fire Nation had done that to you, truly. And if I could apologize on behalf of the entire nation, I would.” She sighed, pulling her legs close to her chest. “I’ve been around a lot of people who have done some very bad things, sometimes to the people I care about. I really cannot express how sorry I am, Katara.”

The girl smiled, her blue eyes watery from holding back tears. “It’s okay. We’ll bring the Fire Nation to justice one day.” (Y/N) nodded in agreement. “Would you mind telling me how the Fire Nation has hurt you too? I think it might help me understand you a bit better.”

She inhaled a deep breath. “Well, when I still lived on the Fire Nation mainland, there was a boy I really...liked. He was only fourteen, still just a kid, but he spoke up when he wasn’t supposed to. He was challenged to an Agni Kai, which is a traditional firebending duel. He went up against a person who was ten times stronger than him.” (Y/N) swallowed the sob in her throat that always formed when she thought of that day. “The whole point of the duel is that you win when you burn another opponent. He was burned very badly that day and was banished from the Fire Nation. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“I’m really sorry,” Katara said, and (Y/N) shook her head.

“Goodness, no, don’t even apologize. It’s nothing compared to what happened to you and Sokka. How about we get some sleep? I can’t imagine what tomorrow is gonna be like.”

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The next day had proved to be very troublesome for (Y/N). Their group had divided, with Sokka and Katara choosing to follow Bato to their father since Aang had hidden his coordinates from them. She understood where the young boy had been coming from: when she had first joined the group, she had definitely felt like an outsider, but things had slowly gotten better. It was unfortunate that Sokka and Katara had left them, but (Y/N) knew it was now her duty to get him to the Northern Water Tribe so he could continue his waterbending training.

This plan went south as soon as the bounty hunter arrived. The beast she rode kicked up so much dust that it became hard for (Y/N) to see. She had lost sight of Aang and she knew he was in trouble, but the last thing she wanted was to blindly shoot fire and risk hurting someone. So instead, she stumbled through the dust until she could see properly.

“Look out!” Was all she heard Sokka shout before he knocked her to the ground. She groaned as she fell, opening her eyes to see Sokka’s blue ones staring down at her.

“What’d you do that for?” She grumbled, shoving him off of her.

“I saved you from a fire blast! A thank you would’ve been nice!”

“I’m a firebender! I can handle a fire blast, you can’t!” She jumped to her feet, ready to defend her friends from the source of the blasts.

What she expected to see through the dust was a bounty hunter or a Fire Nation soldier. Who she had not expected to see, however, was Prince Zuko. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her body. Seeing her old friend brought a flood of feelings back to her, but she tried her best to suppress them. She wanted to run into his arms and squeeze him into a hug. But then she pieced it all together. It was Zuko who had been hunting Aang. He was the one who raided Katara and Sokka’s village. A lot had changed since the two of them had last seen each other, that was obvious.

It took Zuko a few seconds to recognize her. She was still in her Earth Kingdom clothes, as the disguise helped her travel between cities without being recognized. But he would recognize her (color) eyes anywhere. He stopped in his tracks; his arms lifted for another attack.

“(Y/N)?” He asked. He glanced between her and the Avatar.

In her fifteen years of life, not once had she firebended against Zuko. But she had a duty to her new friends and to the rest of the world. She ran at him, flipped forward, and kicked fire into his face. Zuko’s arms cut through her fire. He grunted angrily.

“What are you doing?” He demanded. She didn’t answer. She shot fire at him again, but he dodged.

“I won’t let you hurt him!”

“Traitor!” Zuko roared, firing blasts back at her. She avoided them easily. She had always been praised for being light on her feet. Taking gymnastics with Ty Lee had allowed her to dance in between the flames. Zuko had only gotten better over the years. This would be a tough battle to beat. She kicked him in the stomach, knocking him off of his balance for a few moments.

“You guys get out of here!” She shouted to her friends. “I’ll hold him off!”

“We’re not leaving without you!” Katara shouted back. Zuko shot fire that missed her face by inches.

“Go!” She shouted to them. She shot fire blasts from her firsts, driving Zuko away from her. She heard Appa fly away and in her heart, she hoped they would come back for her. She realized a moment too late that the bounty hunter’s beast had reached its tongue toward her. Paralyzed, she fell to the ground, knocking herself unconscious from the fall.

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She sat in the hold of the Fire Nation ship with her hands cuffed behind her back, preventing her from bending her way out. She had woken up in that dark room, with the only light being from the torches on the outside of the cell. It amused her a bit that she had been captured by the nation she once called home, but really, she had spent most of her time wondering when her friends would come for her. It would be incredibly dangerous for them to infiltrate a Fire Nation ship, especially Aang. He was the prize that Zuko wanted, after all.

Speaking of Zuko, he had been sitting in front of the bars of her cell since she had woken up. They both had been silent. She wanted to speak to him, but she wasn’t sure what to say. It was obvious the Agni Kai had changed him for the worse. He had been absolutely ruthless when they were fighting in the village. It had taken everything in her to fight him off, but it obviously hadn’t been enough.

The heavy metal door swung open and she looked up to see Iroh, Zuko’s uncle. She had always liked Iroh. He told her funny stories whenever he visited the royal palace. He had played Pai Sho with her on more than a few occasions. He was a kind man, who didn’t really fit in with his family at all. She sat up immediately, a bright smile on her face.

“Iroh!” She said cheerfully. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

“Zuko,” Iroh scolded. “What is our dear friend doing in a cell?” Zuko glared at her.

“She’s with the Avatar now. She’s a traitor.”

“Traitor is a harsh word, in my opinion,” She replied. “I think I like the word rebel more.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me!” Zuko snapped.

“Is this true, (Y/N)?” Iroh asked. She looked away from him and refused to answer.

“Where did the Avatar go?” Zuko demanded. She scoffed.

“As if I’d tell you.”

“As your prince, I demand you to answer me!”

“So, am I a traitor, or are you still my prince? My head is killing me, Zuko, I can’t really keep up right now.” Humor was how she was choosing to deal with the pain of seeing the disappointment in Zuko’s eyes. She knew she was doing it for the right reasons, but she had let him down.

“You’re just as insufferable as you were when I left.” She felt the anger inside of her boiling.

“I’m insufferable? Says the boy who is still serving a country that banished him.”

“That’s why I need the Avatar, (Y/N)! So I can finally go home and restore my honor!”

“We both know it’s not going to be good enough for him, Zuko.”

He turned toward his uncle. “Leave us.” Silently, Iroh left, but not before flashing her a sad smile. “I can’t believe I thought that I would ask for your hand in marriage once I returned home.”

She scoffed. “Were you planning on filling me in of that plan in one of the letters you wrote to me?”

“Letters? I never--”

“Exactly. Even if I had stayed with the Fire Nation, I wouldn’t have agreed to your proposal. You might’ve been banished, Zuko, but it’s not hard to send a messenger hawk.”

“Is that why you became a traitor? Because I didn’t write to you?”

“Zuko, I promise that not everything is about you. Have you seen what the Fire Nation is doing to people? To innocent people?”

“It’s what they deserve!”

Zuko stormed out after she said that. (Y/N) lay back down on the ground and cried quietly as she mourned over the friend she once knew. The old Zuko was long gone.

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Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie

Thanks so much for reading!! read part 6!!

#atla #avatar #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #toph #zuko #sokka #aang #azula #iroh #writing #fanfiction

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

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Club Takamagahara (Part 4) Rubber Ducky

One of the things that always rubbed me the wrong way about Caesar is his full on dragging you by the ears when it comes to his personal Crusades and the MC never saying a thing about it.

ITT: Caesar and the MC argue again.

Up until now, MC had never thought of herself, her body, as anything more of a vessel to be trained. In the rigid environment of the orphanage, you ate just enough so you wouldn’t starve. You bathed just enough so that you didn’t fall ill, and you trained so you could be the best at your craft and please Dr. Herzog so you could leave the orphanage and go to Moscow.

You cared for yourself the same way like one would care for a potted plant: Not unkindly, but not with too much attention. You felt that way about other people as well for a long time. You ate together at the same time, bathed together at the same time, and trained at the same time. There was no real distinction between male or female until it came time for the Christmas ball where you got together and danced, girls with boys. The older you got, the more importance this was supposed to hold for you. But you didn’t remember desiring to go to the dance, in fact, you were paired up with the forlorn and stuttering Vera for the dance.

Your memory of Christmas was with Renata, sitting next to the ocean.

But that memory had somehow changed. Somehow in the aquamarine haze of The Sea in the Takamagahara, when you were asked about Lost Love, you remembered that moment, your heart burst into bloom, you were flooded with emotion, and you spoke her name like a prayer.

You were in a daze once you got back to the bath area with Caesar, Zihang and Lu Mingfei.

“This is a disaster! A disaster! My poor Little Sister! What are we going to do?!” Mingfei was wailing. “It’s like we’ve thrown her as a virgin sacrifice to the volcano gods!”

Caesar just grinned as he looked down at you. “I’m sure she can handle it, right, MC?”

“I…” You felt oddly nervous. You should agree but now you aren't sure. “What exactly… is going to happen? What did he mean by … pour out their love on me?”

“You’re going to be a client for the most experienced of all of the performers of the Takamagahara! Apparently, they’re going to have some sort of competition amongst each other to see who has the most charm. It’s a shame I can’t be among them,” He sighed, completely shameless. “...but… I’m spoken for!”

Lu Mingfei’s face was black with rage.

“I’m not sure what that means! What should I do?” You suddenly have the urge to chew your nails, again, something you hadn’t done since you were quite young.

“Oh you’ll just have fun with those guys, so just relax! It won’t even be work for you! Anyway, there are no weak performers who can hang out in Takamagahara. Each of them has thousands of admirers and hundreds of guests who are willing to pay for them regularly, or even just pay to sit with them for a while. And just think, the best of them are going to be the ones with you, MC. Isn’t that exciting? This is an amazing result! Just remember to call us by our stage names. I am BasaraKing, Chu Zihang is Ukyou and then there’s Lu Mingfei, Little Sakura.”

Chu Zihang who had been almost completely silent this whole time suddenly spoke up. “But since she’s doing this for you, Caesar, shouldn’t you be honest with her?”

“What do you mean?”

"You and I have learned wilderness survival. We still have weapons. With your ability and mine we can survive in the Kobe Mountains without rations for more than three months, and you are a good hunter." Chu Zihang crossed his arms over his chest. "You insisted on hiding in Takamagahara because intelligence says it is very close to the Genji Heavy Industry building, only two blocks away. You were looking, not for a hideout, but a base for a counterattack. You didn't really want to disappear."

Caesar was silent for a moment. Then he pulled the corners of his mouth into a smile and relaxed his body, "Yes, you're right about everything. What was it the philosopher said? ‘The opponent knows you better than you know yourself.’"

Chu Zihang nods. "When the people from Cassell come to Tokyo, they will take over everything, including your leadership. We will be sent back to the academy, and you are definitely going to be sent to Rome to show your family that you are still in one piece.. But you don't want that."

"Hydra have done me wrong in front of me," Caesar's face was expressionless, "and they will have to pay the price."

You suddenly understand and a feeling of hurt and disillusionment comes over you. “You mean, we’re not going to contact the College?”

"Boss, I say you don't keep thinking about it." Lu Mingfei sighed, "You worked very hard to protect Ms. Makoto. It would have worked if it weren’t for the accident."

"Accident? No, there's no such thing as accidents. In the Gattuso family motto, accidents are just excuses cowards make for themselves."

“I thought we were hiding out here so we could go home!” You object, your voice rising.

Chu Zihang’s eyes flick from you to Caesar. Evidently, Chu Zihang picked up early on that you weren’t understanding things correctly and since Caesar wasn’t going to tell you, he would.

“And we will…” Caesar said gently. “But we talked about this. Hydra will have to pay for what they’ve done.”

Your expression has gone back to its cold and wintry air. You take a deep breath and you want to let it out but it catches in your throat and you have to grit your teeth.

"Caesar, I'm not going to debate with you about the reasons for doing what you're doing. The only issue I have is that you always assume that things are going to go well, and we're all going to go home, and be heroes. Well, I have something to say to you. I got visited by my guardian angel about what happened in Chizuru. He said I had a close call. That there were limits to his power and things could have gone the other way. And he made me promise him to watch out. For him to come all the way from heaven to tell me that, when he's never done that before, tells me the level of danger we're in. I'll follow you and I'll do what you ask, but I'm counting on you to make good and sure that you've thought of everything that might go wrong and that you're not going to underestimate anyone again." The words come out slow and clear in a low snarl.

Caesar listens quietly and then blinks. “Guardian angel? Don’t worry, MC. It will be alright.”

His platitudes only enraged you further! If your bleeding out on the street and nearly dying wasn’t going to be enough of a deterrent to keep him from suddenly changing the mission and doing whatever he wanted to, then why would your words do anything? But you can’t stop talking.

“Nothing you do will bring Ms. Makoto back! You lost, Caesar, just admit it!”

Lu Mingfei backs away but Caesar just shrugs. “I haven’t lost until the game is over.”

“As far as Ms. Makoto is concerned it is Game Over!” You shoot back.

Caesar goes completely expressionless. “So you just want to go home? Just forget everything? What happened to not being afraid to die?”

You don’t respond back immediately because you’re not sure what to say. He’s right, you were scared that you might not make it out this time. Before, you didn’t care what happened to you so long as you could die protecting the people close to you.

“Lu Mingfei mentioned the fact you were different after you woke up…” Caesar rubbed his chin. “I’d like to talk to you after the champagne party.”

“Champagne party?”

“Yes! To celebrate the fact that Ukyou and BasaraKing are the fastest ticket winners of all the interns in Takamagahara!”

“Oh…” You barely hold back your disgust and look away. It’s like he didn’t even hear you.

Now that you were an official guest of the Takamagahara, there was no need to stay cooped up in the room. On the second floor, you visit the restaurant and eat more sushi alone on the terrace. You tell yourself that you can’t see Caesar as anything more than what he was, a guy who was playing the world like a game and didn’t mind risking the lives of others if it meant playing by his rules. But it wasn’t like you could go anywhere or do anything about it.

“MC, you’re here too?”

Lu Mingfei stood in the entryway to the terrace, even though it was late, the waiters were still serving food and not packing up. “Weren’t you at the party?” You ask.

He was still in his waiter's uniform. “Yeah but… technically I’m not really part of the party. I earned my right to stay here based on the interview, but I still have to get enough tickets to actually be one of the performers. I just… couldn’t fit in.” He ran his hand through his hair shyly. “You don’t mind do you?”

“Not at all. Take a seat.”

Lu Mingfei sits across from you, staring over the bright lights of Tokyo while you finish eating. “That’s Genji Heavy Industries, right there.” He points over. “It’s hard to believe that just a few days ago, we were in it, having tea with the head of Hydra.”

You turn and look. The building was like a black spire stabbing upwards at the sky and the lights on in some of the office windows looked like rhinestones. “I don’t want to do it but… I don’t feel like I have a choice.”

“I understand how you feel, MC. So much time has passed for me. I enrolled in college, met the world's top rich and handsome people, and escaped death several times.” He paused for a bit, his voice trembling and soft. “...but I still feel that the world does not care whether I actually exist.”

He folds his arms on the table. “Everyone here is an adult, I’m stumbling and running behind everyone like a kid. I’m constantly learning to speak and study like everyone else, but I’m always half a beat slower than others. When I finally start to follow them, they are already gone.”

“You didn’t know what Caesar had planned either did you?” You asked.

“No. And… I never agreed with what he’s okay with doing with you.” Lu Mingfei twined his fingers. “Everything about this is wrong. I can’t do a thing about it. I wanted to get out of here too.”

You take a deep breath and let it out and go back to eating. “Don't worry for me.”

Mingfei shifted slightly in the wire outdoor dining chair and a soft squeak noise came from below. You snap your head up and then try not to choke on your laughter. Mingfei blushed. “It’s a rubber duck! A rubber duck! I didn’t fart!”

You swallow what’s in your mouth and laugh. “Why… why do you have a rubber duck? Do you bathe with it?”

“No!” Mingfei stammered. “I’m not that much of a kid! I have it because… well, the person who saved me from the Trieste gave it to me!”

“Someone saved you?” You lean forward immediately interested.

“Yeah you’re not the only one with a guardian angel.” He held it out for you to see. It was just your typical rubber duck, yellow with an orange beak and painted black and white eyes. When you squeezed it, it chirped.

“Who saved you?” You asked.

“I don’t know. I remember she had long red hair and she put a diving helmet on my head. It was too dark to see but she’s surrounded by light. Like an angel. I thought it was a hallucination, but when I woke up on the beach… I had the rubber duck. So I knew it wasn’t a dream. MC, do you have something you can hold on to from your guardian angel too?”

You look down at the duck, recalling the dream of Z. You tried to think of substantiating the dream to Caesar, that he really was the one who had plucked you from the sea, who had called the dolphins from the water, and who had brought you to Takamagahara. But you didn’t have anything like that.

The guardian angel dream was probably just a fantasy. You wished that they were still alive, that Renata had really made the wish come true and brought you to the Whale in the office called The Sea in the Club Takamagahara. But the more you thought about it, the more unbelievable it seemed, like a fairy tale told to children. You squeezed the rubber duck and when it chirped, it almost sounded like it was laughing at you.

You hand him his rubber duck back and as you do, the wind on the terrace picks up and brushes his hair across his face.

Hairline. They had the same hairline. You read somewhere that even though a lot of things could change your hairline over time, your natural borne hair line- - that is, how your hair grew on your head -- was strongly hereditary. It was just one of those random facts one grabs as they go through life and read magazines and books. Most of the time this knowledge is useless, but when you saw the way his hair fell on his face and over his eyes, all you needed was golden eyes to say that you were looking at Z and not Lu Mingfei.

The night gradually ended and you all returned to the bathhouse. You pause and Caesar looks at you but you only wondered briefly if they all just slept in the bath. You decide you’re too exhausted to stay and talk, you return to your bed in the closet without talking to him.

But before your door can close his hand catches it. “Don’t run away from me.”

“I don’t want to talk. You’re not going to listen anyway.” You growl.

“I am listening!” He says, his voice is calm and it annoys you.

“You can say you listen but you never change!”

“I’ve moved up the plan’s timeline. I found out that Hydra is moving out against the Devil Clan tonight, which means their forces are spread out. We get in, wreck Kaguya, get out and contact the college. You’ll be back on a plane to Chicago in a day. Alright?”

You suck in air and stop trying to close the door. “Alright.”

“I know it’s hard to trust me right now. I just need a little time to figure something out. Alright?”

“Alright.”

Caesar smiles a little at you and you turn away from it.

“Thank you... Rest up a lot, as soon as your shift is over, we’re leaving.”

You shut the door and he lets you.

#Dragon Raja

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writers-thoughts09 · 4 years

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True Mind, True Heart

Act 1 Chapter 1

Title: True Mind, True Heart: Act 1 Chapter 1 Word Count: 9.6k words Pairing: Zuko x Oc (or reader, however you wanna look at it) I zon’t own Avatar Rating: PG, sometimes I’ll sprinkle some 13 to add some spice ;) Warnings: PTSD, a wink of abuse of power (not caused by Zuko, though I am using his season 1 roughness. I won’t make him abusive in this story, we don’t vibe with that). A/N: I’m baaaack, sorry for any grammar errors and taking so long. I really wanted to make sure I was getting what I wanted to get in with purpose. I started it a few weeks before Zuko spots the avatar, but I still go through episode 1. Enjoy please like and comment if you wish. Next chapter is based off episode 2′s plot.

|Prologue| 1 | 2 |

Act 1: Salvation

“Sometimes life is like this tunnel. You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you keep moving, you will come to a better place.”

- Iroh

Panda Lilies. One of the rarest flowers in the Earth Kingdom. Grows only on the rim of volcanoes, usually found on Mt. Makapu, and holds deep meaning. Although its black and white color is simple, panda lily petals are as soft as velvet. Its stem is such a vibrant green I’m sure it’d rival the Earth King’s jewelry and robes. Even though it may not be the most unique in appearance, for some reason I can’t help but find it enraptures me. So small, rare, fragile even; but enduring…

As a child, I always wondered what panda lilies meant. I’d often see my father come home with it behind his back after a long trip from the northern Earth Kingdom to surprise my mother. He’d present it to her in such a way it reminded me of Chan -the little five-year-old that used to live next door- childishly. My father had such a child-like admiration for my mother. I always found it comical, and sometimes a little embarrassing with the things he’d do for her attention…even though they were already married. Yet my mother would always gasp in delight, smile, take the flower from him, and plant a panda lily of her own on dad’s lips. A kiss. She'd do this every year when he’d bring one home.

Yeah, my dad said let’s set the standards uncharacteristically high for the other people back in our town.

Of course, as I grew a little older, I finally understood the meaning behind panda lilies. It was a symbol of the love my dad held so deeply for my mom. I guess over time, even after they married, my father never lost his passion for her. To me that’s beautiful.

Usually, the flowers are used to win the hearts of those we have affection for. A crush so to speak. So, it was like my dad used the flower’s tradition to tell my mom every year, “Hey, I loved you then, I love you now, and I still want your heart.” Did my mother know this? Yes. She was actually the one who told him about those flowers in the first place way before I was born. Did she play along with my dad’s antics? Of course, because she loved him just as much.

I wish I could go back to when times were simpler, brighter. I wish I could go back to when my mother would teach me about flowers and the other nations. I wish I could go back to when my father would tell me about the different elements of bending. I wish I could go back to before-

Knock

The sound of knuckles rapping on metal echoed around her quaint quarters as a curt voice jarred her from her thoughts.

“Servant girl, where’s the general’s tea? He’s already above deck waiting!”

Two hands scrambled to shove everything away under her mattress. The journal she used to write in, along with the ink and brush that she, borrowed, one night from a crewman’s room while everyone was above deck. With everything hidden, Lila scrambled up from the edge of her bed and rushed to the door with shaky hands. Tanned fingers strained as they jerked the heavy hunk of metal open and came face to face with none other than Lieutenant Jee, a senior officer on this ship. The tall man held nothing but a frown on his face as he looked down at her.

Lila thought back to her first few days aboard, she considered him to be middle-aged by the state of his graying hair. A good few feet taller than her. An accomplished military man he was…and an accomplished singer too. Though she doesn’t dare tell him the last part.

As the lieutenant stared her down, expression unreadable, Lila couldn’t help but curl in on herself. Her good eye staring up at him sheepishly as he huffed out an unimpressed sigh.

“General Iroh’s been waiting for ten minutes now. Hurry it up if you know what’s best for you.” It was meant as a warning, and Lila knew better than to take her time and make the General wait any longer.

Quickly sliding out of her room, the door shutting behind her with a loud slam, and into the dimly lit hallway the girl squeezed out a, “Yes, sir I’ll get to the tea right away”, and hoped her words sounded as firm as the lieutenants. Though the only indication she got was the quirk of an aged brow before he swiftly turned away to walk back up the stairs that led to the main deck. No doubt to tell the General that Lila was on her way with his tea. Once the lieutenant was out of view, Lila spun on her heels and borderline ran through the dingy halls to get to the kitchen. All the while praying her tardiness wouldn’t result in any form of punishment; even though she’s never been on the receiving end of one during her time on this ship.

As she rushed through the halls of the ship's lower deck Lila knew it wasn’t the lieutenant or any of the other crew members that intimidated her. It wasn’t even the General. If anything, General Iroh was the nicest one to her compared to the others here. No, it was the person in command of this ship who truly frightened her. She’s seen the intensity of his rage when directed at his men many times throughout his three-year search for the Avatar.

Although he wasn’t much older than her, he still carried himself in a way that you wouldn’t think of him as someone younger. In Lila’s eyes his mere presence was imposing and domineering enough that she thought he could pass as a Fire Nation General. Maybe even an Admiral. A force to be reckoned with. Although he was exiled, he didn’t look at all like a banished prince.

All Lila knew was that she didn’t want to start slipping up now. From what she experienced firsthand, the Fire Lord’s family and his military were truly terrifying.

When her boots rounded the corner to the kitchen’s entryway a stifled gasp flew from her lips as crewmen, specifically the firebenders, ambled out of the mess hall. The majority of them shoving past her without a second thought, knocking her off balance, their heavy fire nation armor clanking as they passed. Swiftly but awkwardly Lila caught herself from falling. Her back bumping the wall as her hand latched onto the door frame. After the last helmeted soldier left, she righted herself and set off to brewing Iroh’s usual. Jasmine tea. Once she was in the kitchen, she gently set down a pot of water to boil as her good eye ringed with a dark circle glanced about the empty kitchen.

Deeming the area fully empty, broken fingernails ghosted over the cloth covering her other eye. Memories from long ago, ones she didn’t want to remember forced their way to the forefront of her mind.

Visions of fire.

Men in red uniforms.

A burning house invaded her thoughts.

Until the image switched as she remembered the Palace Gardens along with a girl dressed in fire nation clothing and forehead tattoo. She was hurling bursts of flame after flame, cackling as a young Lila ran through the fire lily bushes screaming crying out-

“Stop it.”

The one-eyed girl whispered. Shaking her head, jagged fingernails toyed with the edge of the cloth.

Just like that, like dunking someone in cold water, Lila resurfaced from her haunted daydreams once she heard the boiling water bubble and hiss for her attention.

“Oh my goodness!”

With her seeing eye, Lila snatched the pot of water, grabbed a clean teapot from the dish rack and hastily prepared the rest of Iroh’s afternoon tea all in one motion. This was all routine for her, except today she was late. Now panicking, Lila arranged everything on a serving tray and scurried as fast as her legs would allow without spilling, or worse, dropping anything.

The sound of her baggy uniform pants rubbing together and her dark boots tapping against the metal floor could be heard as she raced through the torch lit corridors. Past her sleeping quarters, and up the main flight of stairs leading to the ship’s main deck.

“Oh spirits, I’m extremely late!” Lila anxiously cried to herself as she slinked up the last few steps, forcing her rushed pace to a normal walk. On this ship she always had to make sure she kept her composure around the others. A habit she developed from her service in the Fire Lord’s Palace.

When she came out into view on deck, the afternoon sun shined brightly over her features. If it were any other place besides the south pole Lila would’ve appreciated the sun’s warmth, but it wasn’t. The subzero temperature seemed to overpower the sun as the cold hugged her through her heavy servant garbs anyway. A slight shiver crawled up her body after a particularly strong gust of southern wind blew past.

With her head bowed Lila made her way toward Iroh and his pai sho table. The old man was seated in the middle of the deck observing both his game and the banished prince’s training. Peeking up to look a few feet past Iroh, Lila caught sight of prince Zuko and the men he trained with. Another shiver traveled down her spine. One of fear.

Judging by his lack of clothing and sweaty face, the prince seemed to have just finished his training session once she walked on deck. Prince Zuko grabbed a towel from his uncle and wiped down his face and chest. Without sparing anyone a second glance prince Zuko marched off toward the command tower, barely brushing Lila’s shoulder as he went. Memories of her tardy punishments given by her last master flashed by. However, when prince Zuko didn’t stop to question or berate her for her late appearance, Lila released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Once certain that prince Zuko was completely gone and she wasn’t in trouble, Lila continued walking and closed the distance between her and General Iroh. Once she reached the old man’s side, Lila bowed in respect, a few wispy curls tumbling from her bun as she kneeled beside him. As always, every day for the past three years, the chubby man welcomed her with a bright smile and boisterous laugh. Now Iroh was a pale portly man with long grey hair and bright amber eyes to complement. Even though they never properly talked, he was always kind in greeting whenever he saw her around.

“Ah! There you are, I wondered where you were. I was scared you got lost on the ship.”

Knowing that Iroh was joking, Lila cracked a carefully practiced smile as the old man joyfully laughed.

“No, no, I didn’t get lost. Though please accept my deepest apologies, I hope my tardiness didn’t upset you, sir.”

Professional and sweet her words were, but rehearsed in nature. Iroh could tell, but he watched with kind eyes anyway as the young girl placed his tea on the table with steady hands. He was pleased to see she didn’t tremble near him like she did with his nephew. Unbeknownst to the blinded girl, prince Zuko’s uncle always noticed her reactions when it came to the boy. He’s always wanted to know why she’d become so small and nervous every time Zuko was near; but he knew better than to out-right ask.

The retired general quickly took a sip from the cup she placed before him, the wondrous taste of jasmine tea dancing along his taste buds. This girl knew how to make it just how he liked it!

“You know Lila, that is your name, right?” Iroh questioned casually. The young girl stiffened in response as she awaited his next words with bated breath, “after three year of being on this ship together, we have never really sat down and talked over a nice calming glass of your tea.”

Still kneeling, Lila released a breath in relief and couldn’t help but look at him with slight confusion but quickly remembered her place and schooled her expression into poised neutrality. She glanced down before murmuring, “Well, with all due respect sir. I’m a servant placed on this ship by my master. I didn’t think it was expected of me to dine and drink with you and your men.”

Remaining quiet Iroh regarded her as he took another sip. To Lila, it seemed her answer didn’t satisfy him as he shook his head in disagreement. Afraid she spoke out of turn, Lila fidgeted slightly with the empty tray in her hands.

Remember your place.

Mentally shaking the voice from her head, she began to rise from her spot beside the general. Before she could fully stand, Iroh’s voice cut through.

“Of course, it’s expected of you. You are important to this ship, just like how prince Zuko and his men are important to each other. Every person on this ship has a purpose and a duty that benefits us all. Just as you have yours. But before you go, sit. Have some tea with me, you deserve a moments rest.”

Her eye, ladled with exhaustion, widened in surprise at his bold comparison between the prince, the crew, and herself. Especially prince Zuko. All she did was fulfill orders and make sure everything on this ship was clean. Lila was nowhere near as valuable as the Prince of the Fire Nation, banished or not. Years at the Caldera Palace has surely taught her where her place was, and it wasn’t on the pedestal of fire nation royalty.

Even with that reminder, it didn’t stop the dust of pink from tinging Lila’s ears while she adamantly refused his words, “Sir, you mustn’t say such things-”

The retired military general smiled, kindly interrupting the stuttering girl’s babbling, “Please, sit. I’d be graced by your kind presence if you’d give an old man like me some company on this lovely day.”

Seeing that Iroh wasn’t going to relent, Lila let out a small sigh and sat on her knees before him on the other side of the pai sho table. Back straight and hands polieltly placed on her lap. Over the rim of his teacup Iroh peeks at her and couldn’t help but feel pleased. Like a chink in a wall, a little part of her mask breaks without her even noticing.

Once fully situated across The Fire Lord’s brother, Lila couldn’t help but still feel incredibly small and vulnerable. Never in her life has she ever been requested to sit with someone of such high nobility before, as equals, even if they were banished. For a while, they sat in complete silence. An awkward one on Lila’s end and a serene one on Iroh’s. Lila watched as Iroh wordlessly played pai sho and sipped his tea. Crisp south pole air blew past every now and then, gently running through Lila’s dark curls like invisible fingers. Genuinely the girl was at a loss of words so she stayed quiet and waited until Iroh had something to say, chosing to watch the tall walls of glaciers slowly drift by. While Lila was distracted by her captivating surroundings, Iroh threw back the last of his tea like nothing and let out a loud long sigh of satisfaction.

“So,” He chirps, “Where are you from if you don’t mind me asking?”

Remember your place

“Well, I come from a small town near the Fire Nation Capital and served the Fire Lord and his family growing up,” Lila responded without missing a beat. Though she doesn’t miss Iroh’s unconvinced look as he cocks an eyebrow at her. Lifting the teapot, he pours himself a second cup.

“No offense, but if you’re going to lie, at least make it a little more believable. Not laughable…although some good lies are pretty funny…” he quips. An aged hand coming up to stroke his chin.

‘He caught my lie,’ defeat briefly colors her face and Lila wonders if it’s okay to take off her mask, even if it’s just for a moment. Can she trust him?

“General Iroh-”

“Just Iroh or uncle Iroh is fine, I’m retired. You don’t need to keep formalities when you’re with me,” the old man laughs as he pours a cup of tea for Lila. The warm assurance Iroh gives off disarms Lila, even if she didn’t want that to happen, allowing her to relax just a little more. Her mask slipping from her fingers.

“Okay…Just Iroh,” Lila teases.

It came out a bit awkwardly, but she peeked her eye up anyway to gauge his reaction at her failed attempt of a joke.

However, she’s pleasantly surprised when she sees the stale joke earns her a guffawing laugh and she had to fight off the beginnings of a grin that wanted to push past her lips, “why do you want to know?”

“Just curious, but since you asked,” passing Lila her cup Iroh playfully narrows his eyes, “you don’t look or sound like you’re from the Fire Nation capital. Don’t get me wrong you’re a very beautiful girl,” Iroh clarifies, “but your facial features are different from the people in the capital. You also have a slight accent. Not only that but Lila isn’t a name commonly used in the Fire Nation.”

As Iroh spoke, each sentence had Lila’s eye lower, all the way down to her cup on the table. This man figured her out in a matter of seconds! To Lila part of her felt embarrassed for thinking she could out-smart a military leader. Retired, but still. An experiensed military man no less.

Though she knew he didn’t mean any harm by what he said. He claimed to just want her company, and she was trusting that he only wanted to get to know her. No one has done this with her before so this was new territory, and Iroh has never given her a reason to fear or distrust him before during these three years, so she decided why not? And let her mask hit the floor. She looks at Iroh and he catches her good eye soften.

Words roll around her head for a moment before speaking, “My mother was born in the Northern Water Tribe, but she left. In her travels she met my father who lived in a small town not too far from Omashu. They married a few years after meeting. My dad really helped her out when she had nothing and no one to help her.” Iroh’s lips curled up into such a wide and infectious smile at the girl’s words, and funnily enough Lila found herself mirroring him, too.

“Wow, that is wonderful! Two completely different people, from completely different parts of the world meet and fall in love. That’s rare,” Iroh gushed as he teasingly added, “On top of that they made such a soft and gentle spirit too!”

Giggles, that were actually quite loud, erupted from Lila as she flushed at this witty old man and his compliments. “How do you know I’m soft and gentle?” She asks, taking a large gulp of tea, the warm brew filling and puffing her cheeks. Slowly she guzzles it down, cheeks deflating, before adding, “I could be really mean in reality.”

Golden eyes worn with years of life crinkled in amusement at her newly surfacing playfulness, “I have been around for many years. You can tell when someone has a genuine spirit and when someone doesn’t. You, miss Lila,” said girl freezes at the respectful use of her name. No one’s ever used ‘miss,’ or her name, at all when talking to her, “have a very soft and sprightly spirit, when given the chance to bloom,” Iroh declares with satisfied finality. To show he was set on his opinion, Iroh sat with his eyes closed, blocking out any protest Lila might’ve had as he reverently drinks his tea and moves a pai sho tile.

‘Miss Lila’ in turn sits in stunned silence, her brow deeply lined with thought and her mouth agape. Genuinely she couldn’t see what he saw in her but didn’t have the heart to correct him. It’d be futile to argue against him and win. So instead, she shyly thanked him, and awkwardly filled her cheeks again with more tea to distract herself.

For the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening, as no one seemed to need Lila’s assistance, she got to know her first friend since little Chan from her village. They went back and forth talking about many things. Lila discovered that during his younger years Iroh learned and observed techniques from the waterbenders which in turn helped enhance his firebending. He regaled her with many stories of what he learned and how he learned it. A smile etched deep into Lila’s face as she tried to absorb everything he was saying. It was heart warning for Lila to see someone from another nation appreciate her mother’s culture. She also found out that he’s a decent tsungi hornist and can’t tell the difference between certain tea plants and the poisonous ones.

Iroh learned some things about Lila, too. He discovered that she had vast knowledge about plants and flowers from all over the world. Even the ones about tea! Thanks to a book about flowers her mother gifted her as a child. He also found out that under her pillow she keeps an earth kingdom bracelet her father made and can play the kalimba. They even taught each other songs native to their nations. Both of them found such wholesome companionship with each as other they kept this up every day for a few weeks during Iroh’s afternoon tea.

One day as the two friends sipped on a new tea Lila decided to try her hand in making, ginseng tea, Iroh decided it was time to discuss his nephew. However, the tea was too good for him to just leave it half finished. ‘I’ll begin once I finish this cup,’ he said to himself. So, they sat together in comfortable silence. In the background the rowdy voices of the ship’s crew could be heard, they too took a moment to relax from today’s work. Prince Zuko seemed to be on edge more so than usual so the men were taking in all the peace and quiet they could from their makeshift break.

Back to the main pair though, the clink of Iroh’s teacup being set on the table barely registered in Lila’s ears. She was currently taken by her surroundings as she watched a piece of ice fall from a passing glacier. A chilly breeze brushed and caressed her cheeks. Usually she’d shiver at the winds touch, but it seemed that over the past few weeks of Prince Zuko navigating these waters, the southern climate didn’t seem to bother her as much anymore. It was still cold though.

Feeling ready to talk Iroh clears his throat, “You know, I don’t really think you have much to be afraid of when it comes to my nephew Zuko.”

In an instant Lila’s revere for the beautifully cold landscape is broken as she meets Iroh’s steady gaze in surprise and discomfort. This was definitely a topic she wanted to avoid.

“I know Zuko is a very coarse person and rough around the edges, much like the rocks back home. But he really isn’t as bad as people make him out to be. Though he may be banished, he is still very honorable,” and for a moment Lila sits there taking in his words. She didn’t really know what to make of it. Her perception of the Prince vastly opposed Iroh’s. Although she understood why Iroh would say that about his nephew, he did seem to have a love the boy. Lila tries to muster the courage to say something but again she hears that voice,

Remember your place

Echoing in the back of her mind. After moments of her struggling to gather herself and Iroh waiting patiently, Lila stammers out, “Sir, I assure you I’m fine I do not fear-”

To which uncle Iroh chooses this moment to remind her, “Lila, you don’t need to be so formal with me, nor do you need to hide yourself. You know me. You can tell me how you really feel.”

Again, she hears that same phrase, remember you place, but louder this time attempting to drown her out. She tries to push back a little harder so the voice would go away, but to no avail. Lowering her eye in submission, specks of brown glinting in the sun’s rays, Lila quietly chokes out, “I shouldn’t say anything at all negative…concerning the Fire Lord or his children. Whether they are banished or not,” the rehearsed tone Iroh heard when he first spoke to her returned. The man could clearly see the internal struggle warring within her. The deep line crinkling between her brows, the downturned tilt of her lips, to the flicking of her eye as she couldn’t look at him dead on. It was like he was watching a two headed viper fight itself.

Choosing to divert his attention to his game he allows Lila the time she needs to fight the thoughts that overshadowed her. Once he noticed she’s calmed down a little he quips, “But, I’m not the Fire Lord nor am I the Fire Lord’s child.”

“I know,” Lila squirms a little and averts her gaze to her hands, “but you are the brother of fire lord Ozai and the uncle of prince Zuko. It would be rude of me to say anything negative about anyone from that family…and I don’t want to get in trouble with prince Zuko.”

Taking in the sight of his friend, her fingers fidgeting softly, Iroh gently counters, “I just want to know how such a soft and gentle soul like yours, has become so scared and broken.”

For a while, Lila sits in hesitant contemplation. Many times, and many ways Lila has only tasted pain and hurt her entire life. One of her eyes has complete loss of vision for goodness sake! No one ever bothers to give a passing glace to those seen as lesser than themselves. To peasants like her. No one cares for little servant girls…but Iroh does. Iroh, out of every person she’s ever met in the fire nation, has been the first and only one who’s truly treated her like she’s worth more. Worth more than a servant. Iroh always treated her like a human and a friend. In his eyes, she is a friend. Iroh is, someone she can trust…regardless of his bloodline. With that, her mind was made up. Like a baby bird spreading its wings to jump, Lila opens her mouth to speak – but closes it and freezes once she spots prince Zuko emerge from his quarters. The usual fire nation uniform adoring his body.

Red uniforms.

Just like that, the flower that Iroh saw trying to bloom, closed in on itself once more.

Saddened by the state of his friend, amber eyes close as Iroh shakes his head. Looking at his last pai sho tile he places down the fire symbol. ‘How ironic’, Iroh thought.

Finished with his game Iroh looks toward his nephew, a wide goofy smile now replacing the disheartened look before.

“Hello nephew, nice of you to join us on this lovely day! The sun is out, a nice breeze is blowing. Miss Lila here has even made a new delicious tea for me to try today, you should have some.”

Unphased by Iroh’s excited suggestion, prince Zuko maintains a cold and silent expression. As he makes his way next to his uncle his sharp gaze cuts through everyone on deck. Immediately his crewmates stop what they were doing as Zuko examines each person, silence being the loudest noise on the ship. Once his glare shifts to Lila for a moment her eye darts away, avoiding eye contact.

Prince Zuko then begins barking orders at the crewmen who were idling about. “Lieutenant Jee, care to tell me why all of my men are not where they’re supposed to be?”

Sensing the rapidly brewing eruption that was about to explode, Lila cautiously rose from the little table she and Iroh occupied. Yeah, she fully intended to creep away from the banished prince’s tirade and busy herself with work, until she felt a calloused but tender hand hold hers. Her eye shot to Iroh as he encouragingly motioned for her to sit back down, “If my nephew really needed something from you or felt like you weren’t doing your job right, he would’ve said so already. You’re okay, either way you don’t need to do anything until dinner time…which is in another hour.” He stated smugly. After those weeks of getting to know one another Iroh memorized her schedule like the back in his hand. Lila knew Iroh again wasn’t going to let her win this round, again, so she slowly sat down.

Once prince Zuko was done ordering -well more like yelling- at his men to get back to work he looked at his uncle, completely ignoring Lila, and rigidly mentioned, “If you need me uncle, I’ll be in my room meditating.”

“Good, good! Practice your breathing, it’ll help you with your control.”

Judging by the upturned eyes and smile Iroh gives his nephew, completely disregarding his attitude, Lila could tell he held a deep love for the prince. For her, she didn’t hold any of that. Prince Zuko was part of fire lord Ozai’s family. She just didn’t understand.

Then just before he turned away prince Zuko’s piercing gaze finally caught Lila’s as if finally realizing she was there.

“You. Servant girl”, his voice was hard as stone. His inflection unwavering and clipped, while hers was wavering and small.

“Yes?”

With prince Zuko’s attention fully on her, Lila’s brown eye flitted between his intense stare and her hands. The discomfort of being trapped under his gaze grew too much for Lila as she squirmed and tried to keep the fear from taking hold. He only acknowledged her presence, that’s it. ‘I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong today’, she rambles to herself, prattling off anything she might’ve done for him to call her name in such a way.

Cutting through her mental check list, terse words, “Get. To. Work,” are spat from between the prince’s teeth. His scarred face now inches away from her. Up close Lila could vividly see his raised skin, burnt red and irritated, marring the left side of his pale face. The disfigurement of the scar left his eye squinted in comparison to the other eye. Thoug she had to admit, the eybrow that wasn’t burnt off was perfectly arched. Within his amber gaze, Lila could see the anger that always seemed to linger there. However, she knew better than to test his already thinning patience.

With a breathless, “Yes sir,” Lila clambers to her feet, collects Iroh’s tea set as fast as she could and rushes away from the two. Heart pounding within her chest. Faintly, she could hear Iroh complain to prince Zuko about how he didn’t need to scare off his friend and how he should’ve tried the tea she made. To which Zuko yelled, “I don’t care! She doesn’t get special treatment just because she made you tea!” That, she heard loud and clear.

Lila powers through the corridors below deck and even though it’s an hour early she decided that she might as well help the chef prepare dinner since she did all her work earlier. This time as she rounds the corner, teacups clanking with every footfall, she smoothly side steps any shipmates that may be bustling out of the kitchen. ‘Don’t want a repeat of before,’ she notes to herself.

Upon entering the kitchen, she sees the chef and he raises his knife in greeting before continuing with the meat cutting. Last week prince Zuko docked at a nearby harbor to restock on any necessities the crew might’ve been running low on. Specifically, hygienic items and food supplies. “Servant girl!” the chef calls, keeping his eyes on the task at hand, “You’re just in time. I need you to start on the rice.”

Offering a timid smile, which he didn’t notice, Lila carefully placed the tea set in the sink, rolls up her sleeves and stands beside him to start on the rice. Like clockwork they quickly but efficiently finish dinner for everyone on the ship, with Lila scooping the last bit of rice into bowls to deliver to the prince and his uncle. Soon enough the rest of the men file in for dinner. Lila attempts to give one last smile to the chef, which again falls on blind eyes, before tiptoeing out of the now lively kitchen and right into lieutenant Jee.

“Lieutenant Jee!” Lila gasps in startlement, “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there!” She bows as best as she could while balancing the two trays of food. Jee waves it off with his hand, “You’re fine, just be careful next time.”

As he starts to make the line for dinner Lila haltingly calls his attention once more, “Um, mister, Lieutenant Jee, sir…” he hums. “Just to be sure, do you know if the prince and his uncle are in their rooms? I don’t want to be late again, especially with prince Zuko.”

“Yeah, last I checked that’s where they were.” Jee dissmisively responds before laughing with the other men at a joke the chef said. Lila’s presence completely ignored.

Laced with a hint of despondency, Lila whispers, “Thank you,” and continues her trek up from the lower decks, up onto the main deck, and to the command tower. All the while balancing the two hefty dinner trays. The tower was where those in charge slept. Reaching her first stop, Lila found herself in front of prince Zuko’s room. She began to feel her hands shake and quickly but carefully placed Iroh’s dinner tray down by the door. No way did she want to drop anything in front of her leader’s door and really risk getting punished for the first time. Reigning in her nerves Lila breathes out deeply and knocks.

No words of entry could be heard.

Trying her luck, she knocked harder one more time but still received no answer. Usually on any other day he’d call for her to enter and she’d place his food on his table, but this is the first time he hasn’t responded. Which leaves Lila at a crossroad. She wasn’t really sure what to do, she didn’t want to leave his food outside, but she didn’t want to just barge into his room. His privacy. And anger him. Then again, standing in front of his door doing nothing wasn’t going to solve anything either.

“I guess we won’t know until we try,” she sighs wearily.

The door squeaks as she apprehensively opens it and cautiously peeks her head in. The room is in its usual state, clean and very minimal. No elaborate decorations, just a few fire nation banners on the wall, a mattress in the corner of the room, a weapons rack, and a rug. The only time Lila would go in the prince’s room was when she’d do her daily cleaning rounds and food deliveries, like now. Then, her eye catches sight of him with his back facing her. Candles sit in front of him on the table, the flames rising and falling with every breath she hears him take.

“Prince Zuko?” Lila slips a foot past the door as she shakily squeaks, “I have brought you your supper, do you want me to place it where I usually-” a loud huff escapes prince Zuko’s mouth, flames shooting up in tandem sharply.

“If you wish I could come back later with-”

“You really seem to have forgotten your manners, haven’t you? I’m meditating.” Prince Zuko drawls, irritation filling his voice as he maintains his meditative position. Lila stares at his back in puzzlement, she didn’t mean any disrespect to her prince, she was only doing what she thought was right in this situation.

Even though Lila knew prince Zuko couldn’t see her she still bowed her head in apology, rushing out, “Please forgive me my prince. You didn’t answer when I knocked, a-and I didn’t want to leave you without food-”

Like a bomb, prince Zuko’s aggravation toward her initial interruption and her rambling explodes, “I don’t care as to why you felt the need to come in my room unannounced! You see I’m in the middle of something, and just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean you can start talking like I gave you permission to, when I didn’t! I’m not my uncle. You’re a servant, remember your place!”

Lila stands in stunned silence at Zuko’s verbal barrage, she was doing so well with her streak of staying on his blind side. Although she knows his words are nothing compared to what he’s said and done to his other men, tears still flood and gloss over her eye. Violent scenes she repressed played through her mind as clear as day. Mocking her.

Remember your place

Remember you place

Tears of pain and anguish flow down her burning cheek. The intensity of the man’s punch could still be felt as she cradles the side of her face. Sobs heave from the little girls mouth as she watches the flames engulf her home. When suddenly a large hand yanks a fistful of her hair. A shrill scream ripping through her busted lips as he drags her closer to the carnage he and his men waged. All dressed in red uniforms. She could hear her parents yelling her name from somewhere afar, and she tries to tear away from his grasp to find their voices. Though the vice like grip in her hair harshly jerks her head back, causing the girl to whimper in pain.

“Ah! Mommy, daddy! Where are you?” She can’t see them, but she could hear them fighting in the background. The sound of the other men in red wrestling with her parents could be heard too and it amps up the fear seizing her heart.

Tiny nails dig into the hand on her head, scratching and hitting the with all her might to escape. Though her attempts failed as she is aggressively thrown in front of the burning house, the heat of the flames licking for a taste of the child. Suddenly a blood curdling wail, that could be heard all around her terrorized village, shreds from her raw throat as searing pain erupts all throughout and within her eye. Vision becoming an all-consuming black.

The words, “Remember your place, you little brat!” Are roared in her face.

Finally, the tears silently bubble over her cheeks like a stream of water. Stifling any noise, Lila bites her lip and bows deeply, even though prince Zuko barely gives a sideway glance over his shoulder.

“I am, so, sorry my prince,” she chokes out hoping to the heavens above that he wouldn’t punish her or hear the strain in her words. She can’t be crying like a fool in front of her leaders, that’s not what she was taught. Serving was what she was there for, nothing else. Her master before made sure she knew that. Swallowing all the sobs she could without a sound, Lila carefully places his food by the door and quickly leaves shutting it with a soft click. All the while a slight frown could be seen on Prince Zuko’s lips. He caught sight of the tears falling from her eye.

Outside Lila takes a few deep breaths and leans against the door, the muscles in her lips twitch as she tries to stop the upcoming torrent of tears; but the dam breaks. Smothering her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, her other quivering hand covers her face. Lila starts bawling. Muffled sobs and gasps wrack her body as her eye squeezes in grief, hot tears spilling even faster. Now it wasn’t necessarily Zuko’s words that made her react like this, even if they were hurtful. It was what he inadvertently triggered. Memories too painful that she didn’t want but was forced to keep. After a few minutes of her trying to keep her mourning silent, she hears a door creak up ahead at the end of the corridor. With hitched breaths Lila drops her snot and spit stained arm as the hand covering her face quickly retrieves Iroh’s forgotten dinner tray. It was a little cold, but nothing a firebender couldn’t handle. Lila sniffles and schools her features back into a poised appearance and continues to her last stop. A trail of quiet tears streaming in her wake.

Upon reaching Iroh’s room, Lila wipes off any evidence of her crying and knocks on the door. This time around Lila hears a tired, but nice beckon to enter. Opening the door, she sees Iroh sitting on his bed and he beams at the food Lila has in her hands, until he sees her face. As quickly it appeared his smile is gone as he takes in her damp sleeve, tear stained cheeks, runny nose, and wet eyelashes. Iroh had an idea of what might’ve happened.

“Sometimes, life can be like a hurricane. It’s harsh and unforgiving at first, but they always end and the sun shines after. No matter how bleak the storm looks.”

At that, Lila breaks down again. Crying all the while, she fully enters the room and places her friend’s food on his bedside table before rushing to hug him. As she engulfs him, Iroh gently rocks her from side to side, rubbing her back. The motion reminds Lila of her father when he’d rock her to sleep, her arms tightening around Iroh. She missed her dad deeply. Softly her old friend began to sing one of the songs he taught her a few weeks ago.

“Winter spring, summer, and fall. Winter spring, summer and fall. Four seasons four loves, four seasons four loves.”

Although his voice wasn’t perfect, it still pulls Lila to join in, sniffling. Iroh’s voice strong and comforting, while Lila’s was weak and quiet. They sing it a few times until Iroh sees her tears and hiccups slow.

Feeling slightly better, Lila breaks from the hug and sits a few feet from Iroh.

“Thank you. I really needed that,” she croaks and rubs at her teary eye. The patch on her other eye was pretty damp so she knew before bed she’d have to clean it.

“Of course. As your best friend it is my duty to make sure you’re okay and laughing.” To which Lila giggles.

“How about this?” Iroh offers, “I tell you more about what I learned from waterbenders and you teach me more about the flowers you know?” Lila tiredly nods in response; her crying drained all her energy for the day. The two friends share dinner at Iroh’s behest, saying how she shouldn’t skip her meals, and chatted for a few hours. They talked about flowers, tea, and history -mostly Iroh teaching her what he knew- until Iroh noticed how exhausted Lila was and urged her to get some rest.

The next day was like any other day for Lila. In the morning she’d wake up at dawn, do her shower routine, clean her teeth, and tend to her eye. After that she’d set off to make breakfast with the chef for all of the shipmates. Deliver breakfast to Iroh and prince Zuko, and luckily for her today the prince wasn’t in his room. She only found a note that said he wasn’t hungry. Then once all the men were at their usual posts Lila would go ahead and tidy up all their sleeping barracks. By the time she’d be done with cleaning everyone’s rooms she’d have an hour or so to herself, which was filled with journaling or writing all Iroh has told her about waterbending, until she had to help prepare lunch. After she’d finish that, there’d be a fifteen minute window of nothing to do before Lila would make Iroh’s afternoon tea. Which was what she was doing right now.

Again, like before, Lila make her way from the kitchen, through the corridors, past her room, and up the stairs to get to the main deck. However, instead of sitting across from Iroh Lila places herself next to him as he greets her with a joke. Thankfully he doesn’t mention what happened last night as they laughed and talked as they usually do. Today Lila was trying to explain the differences between the white jade bush and the white dragon bush to Iroh. The white jade bush being a poisonous flowering plant. During her explanation, Lila couldn’t help but notice Iroh somewhat dazed off, and she snorted as she thought, ‘I really hope this doesn’t bite him in the butt’ when a question flickered in her. Checking her surroundings to see where prince Zuko was, she saw him a good few feet away facing the front of this ship. The scarred boy looked to be distracted with his own thoughts, so Lila figured it be now or forever hold her peace.

“Hey, uncle Iroh?”

“Hm”, he grunts, liquid gold eyes ever so focused on today’s particularly tricky game of pai sho.

Lila’s already soft-spoken voice lowered to a whisper, “Why did you agree to go with prince-”

Unexpectedly, from far away, a huge ethereal beam of light shoots up into the air, cutting through the sky! The beam cast a blue shadow over everyone and everything in the south pole, blue ripples rippling across the sky. Lila literally falls back in wonder from what she’s witnessing at this moment. No one on prince Zuko’s ship has ever seen anything like this during their three year search. When she looks to see if anyone else is seeing what she’s seeing her eye catches the banished prince’s reaction. Prince Zuko himself is also snapped from his own thoughts by the sight of this strange but amazing light. His jaw dropping in awe, but realization dawns as his features shift to one of aggressive determination.

“Finally,” he growls. Turning to Lila’s companion, who’s surprisingly unphased by what just happened, prince Zuko continues, “Uncle, do you know what this means?” His words seemed to be filled with something akin to…dare Lila say, hope? Desperation?

While keeping his eyes on his pai sho table Iroh asks, “I won’t get to finish my game? And Miss Lila won’t finish telling me about the…what was it called again?” Being in such close proximity to the prince after what happened last night, Lila wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer with him so near.

However, Prince Zuko answers for Lila declaring that the beam of light means his search for the Avatar it about to end. Though not sharing the same optimistic thought as his nephew, Iroh shakes his head and places down another pai sho tile. Still unwilling to relent, Zuko points to the shinning beam and snaps,

“That light came from an incredibly powerful source! It has to be him!” Looking back, he sees the light disappear, causing the blue shadowing that was cast over everything to disappear as well.

“Or, it’s just the celestial lights,” Uncle Iroh suggests, lifting his arm to the sky with a tile in hand to further prove his point. “We’ve been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don’t want you to get too excited over nothing.” The absent-minded tone is apparent in Iroh’s voice although he means well. He’s just looking out for his nephew. For Lila, well she had a whole cauldron of mixed feelings. If that light really was from the Avatar then they could all finally go home. She should be happy, right? Three years of searching finally over. Except, she has no home, all that’s there waiting for her in the fire nation is a cold and malevolent palace. Nothing good was waiting for her there.

Again, Lila is pulled from her thoughts by Iroh, “please, sit. Why don’t you enjoy a cup of calming Jasmine tea Lila so kindly brewed?”

Like an awkward, and slightly uncomfortable middleman, Lila’s honeyed eye worriedly gauges Prince Zuko’s increasingly riled posture. Her eye slowly shutting to a cringe; she could tell the prince was about to explode from the continuous dismissal of his claims.

She was correct.

Prince Zuko barks in exasperation, “I don’t need any calming tea! I need to capture the avatar!”

As he ordered the helmsman to set a course for the light, Lila withdrew back to her thoughts. In a small way, she kind of understood why he was being so snappy. Though his attitude was usually foul. Still, he’s trying to go home after three years of banishment. Everyone on this ship wants to go home. Even if she had no place to call home, Lila could empathize in a way with why he’s so rude, and somewhat desperate, when speaking to his uncle the way he does. The Avatar is his ticket home.

Suddenly the wind picked up, whipping the dark hairs that fell from Lila’s bun. Turning to Iroh as he puts down his last pai sho piece, an air nomad symbol, Lila can’t help but blurt, “What does this mean?” Her words uneasy as she watches Iroh imploringly. Brown eye dancing over his form.

Iroh turns to her and gives a meaningful smile before laughing out, “It means our days of tea and pai sho together are coming to an end.” Lila looks on in confusion, “It’s almost time for you to help with dinner. Go, and make sure you bring some roasted duck for me tonight!” He jokes.

Later that night Lila finds herself repeating the same delivery process as before, rushing up the main deck and to the command tower. However, when she goes to knock on Iroh’s door she sees him coming from around the corner, “Oh uncle there you are. Where were you?”

“I was just coming down from the observation deck trying to tell Zuko he needs rest. Of course, my brooding nephew wouldn’t listen.” Iroh sighs dramatically as he walks to his door. However, all Lila can think about is the discomfort she feels with the possibility of being alone with prince Zuko again…and the stairs she has to climb to reach him.

“B-but, that’s a lot of stairs though…”

“Ha! How do you think I feel? An old man like me shouldn’t have to do workouts like that anymore!”

Iroh smiles when Lila giggle in response. Opening his door, he turns to his friend and gently takes his dinner tray bidding her goodnight. Left alone Lila continues her walk to find prince Zuko. “Up the stairs I go…”

By the time she reaches the observation deck she’s winded and breathing a little deeper. Her heart felt like a drum about to beat out of her chest, she did climb like four flights of stairs. Leaning against the opening of the door to the observation deck, she sees prince Zuko there with a simple night robe draped over his sleeping attire. He stood alert and focus despite it being dusk. Unlike him everyone else was getting ready to retire for the night. A little hesitant to address her presence in fear of repeating what happened last night, Lila waits for the scarred prince’s permission to let her speak. A few minutes pass and a breeze flows by, stray pieces of curls tickle Lila’s neck as the prince still stands in silence.

“Pardon my intrusion prince Zuko, but it’s dinner time and I have your food ready for you…”

Looking over his shoulder at her for a moment he simply rasps out in a gruff voice, “I’m not hungry…” before continuing to watch the darkening horizon.

“But, you haven’t eaten anything today, are you sure?” Regardless of the fear prince Zuko strikes in her heart, he’s still human and needs to eat.

Again, like yesterday an aggravated and abrupt huff leaves his mouth as he deeply drawls, “What, did I just say?”

Wanting to avoid another outburst tonight Lila timidly stammers, “You’re not hungry…” as the feeling of embarrassment from being talked to like a child washes over her.

“You may leave my presence.”

Lila turns and was about to head back down to the kitchen before a thought struck her. Quickly but silently she takes the bowl of rice and the bowl of roasted duck meat and pours half of it onto the serving tray, before leaving it near the doorway. That way if prince Zuko changes his mind the food will be there. Satisfied with herself, Lila walks down to the now empty kitchen, grabs a pair of eating utensils, and eats what was left in the bowls. “Well I’m not letting the food I made, which I know is good, go to waste,” and the food really was good too.

Once she was done eating, Lila washes the tray and grabs a cup filling it to the brim with water. Double checking the empty kitchen Lila carefully makes her way to her servants quarters. She takes gradual and slow steps in order to keep the water from spilling over.

In the safety of her room, Lila closes the door with her foot and nimble fingers lock it behind her. She sets the cup down in the middle of her room and goes to get the journal she’s been writing in from underneath her mattress. Lila pulls out the journal and returns to where she placed her cup. Sitting down with her legs crossed, she flips to the pages filled with information she wrote from the times Iroh would tell her about waterbending. Lila takes in a deep breath, holds it as if she were underwater, then slowly exhales through her mouth. Closing her eye, her hand reaches up and unwraps the cloth covering the other side of her face.

The cloth falls in Lila’s lap as her hand hovers over the cup of water, beginning to practice her waterbending. Although as she tries lifting the water from the cup Lila feels no connection to the energy inside of her. Her control is weak and shaky as the water spills over. Shutting both eyes Lila tries to concentrate harder, but all she can see are the memories from her past burned deep within her mind.

Fire

Screams

Laughing

Fingers

Eye tattoo

With a shuddering breath Lila drops her hand and sighs in disappointment.

Remember your place.

The next morning Lila is on the main deck with Iroh, Prince Zuko, and some of his men. At Iroh’s invitation Lila watches as the prince does his firebending training, though she didn’t know as to why he wanted her there. The young servant had a very deep fear of fire, every blast of fire prince Zuko or his firebending companions made, memories of that little girl in red would flash by. Screams of her younger self and cackling of the little girl ring through her ears. So, Lila stood by the railing of the ship a few feet behind Iroh, not too close to prince Zuko and his fire but not too far in case they needed anything. With her eye on the ground Lila watched in fascination of the elongated shadows the morning sun created around her, until she heard Iroh begin to lecture prince Zuko on his firebending.

“No. Power and firebending comes from the breath, not the muscles,” Iroh clarifies. It’s clear there’s a tinge of stress in his words as Zuko failed to truly grasp what his uncle was trying to say.

“The breath becomes energy in the body,” Iroh continues and begins to demonstrate each point of his explanation, “the energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire!”

Lila gasps at Iroh’s last demonstration. A strong but controlled and precise stream of fire shoots from Iroh’s fist at prince Zuko who stood unflinching. The fire dissipated inches from the prince’s face. At the sound of the small noise Lila made, Zuko’s eyes flicker to hers for a quick second before settling back on Iroh. She could see how the prince’s muscular shoulders began to tense as he walked menacingly toward his uncle, so she tuned out the impending argument and turned to look over the ship's railing. The morning rays glistened over the water lapping at the ship below, creating a lovely twinkle. The shimmering water looked like diamonds to Lila as she mulled over the words Iroh tried explaining to his nephew.

Vaguely she could hear him call his nephew impatient in the background, but Lila’s mind was still committing what uncle Iroh said to memory, “patience,” she softly whispered to no one in particular.

Power comes from the breath…not the muscle.

Lila glanced behind her and saw that prince Zuko was still arguing with his uncle as some of the firebenders looked on. Zeroing in on the sea water once more, she suddenly felt a small beckoning from below…

Breath becomes energy in the body

With her hand extending over the railing, her heartrate picked up and her body tingled with nerves when she realized she’s really going to try this in front of firebenders. The ones who once tried to wipe out her people…but the push and pull of the water was too enticing, its seductive call too strong to ignore…

With a flick of the wrist-

The energy extends past your limbs and becomes-

Water!

Water shoots out in the form of a wave away from the side of the boat. In no way was it a large or impressive wave, it was actually very small. However, it was enough to make Lila laugh and light up in elation. A huge smile decorating her lips. A smile she hid behind her hands. However, when she tried to recreate what she did, nothing happened, the feeling…the connection, was gone. Her smile dissolved and fell, the light in her face dimming as she turned back to the men on deck.

Her honey colored eye widened in surprise at seeing both Iroh and Prince Zuko’s golden gazes pinned on her.

“…Um, hello.” Lila shyly breathed with a small wave of her hand. A twinge of fear twisted in her heart at the off chance of her getting caught waterbending.

“I was just telling my nephew how even you have more discipline and patience, and you’re not even a bender,” Iroh says bellowing a loud laugh. The imaginary weight on Lila’s chest disappeared as she awkwardly forces out a laugh too -in relief- before catching the sneer on prince Zuko’s lips. His hands closing into a fist, Lila was sure he probably didn’t like that comparison.

“I mean, but sir I’m just a servant it doesn’t matter what I have or don’t have,” Lila responds as she lowers her gaze. Iroh opened his mouth to object but the young servant girl beat him to it, “anyway, if you are in no need of assistance,” she casts a look between both Prince Zuko and Iroh, “I must go help with lunch. If you’ll excuse me.” Demurely Lila bows her head and turns to go.

With Prince Zuko was back to sparing with the other firebenders, Iroh took the chance to call out, “Wait.”

Lila turns and regards him curiously as he begins to pour a cup of water, “Here, have this before you go. You might need it if you get thirsty.” He carefully hands her the tin cup. It looked like it was about to overflow. Lila looks at him questioningly but all he gives her is a knowing smile that she couldn’t quite place.

Later, after she finished helping the chef with lunch, Lila made her way back to her room, the cup still in her hands. She only took one sip from it today, either way she was going to meet with Iroh for afternoon tea soon, so she didn’t think much about it. Once inside she sat at the edge of her mattress and placed the cup on the floor in front of her. Resting her elbows on her knees, she folds her hands and places them over her lips as she stares at the water. A thought struck her, debating whether or not she should try bending again.

“I shouldn’t, I can’t even properly control it!” Lila hissed to herself.

Until Iroh’s words about breath and energy filtered through the back of her mind. Then another image appeared. The image of prince Zuko meditating with the candles in his room a few nights ago. Releasing a sigh Lila gave in and sat on the floor in a crisscrossed position, straightening her back like how she saw prince Zuko do it. Like the night before, she untied the cloth covering her face and closed her eyes. The palms of her hands braced on her knees. Deep breath in, she inhaled, and a deep breath out, she exhaled. Slowly a sense of calm and peace crept over her. Concentrating on her breath and the energy inside that she couldn’t really feel yet. Lila repeated the technique over and over, and even though she didn’t see it, with every breath she took the water rippled.

Thank you for reading, let me know what you think in the comments. I hope you enjoyed it.

188 notes · View notes

plushiesghost · 4 years

Text

(A/N): so I wrote this back in April but bever continued it. I just thought i would share it with you guys. I was aiming for a bakugou x reader or a bakugou x reader x todoroki but I ended up being unable to continue it because I ran out of ideas. Really wish I could've made it better, maybe continued it, and improve on some part of it. These are the two parts I wrote for it. Also the reader has a earth manipulation quirk. I didn't like the way I portrayed her quirk because I feared it was too over powered. Oh yeah this is fem! Reader, be prepared for cringe because i wrote this months ago.

I wanna become a hero.

Ever since you could remember you wanted to become a hero. You looked up on other heros and wanted to be just like them. Brave. Heroic. Helpful. Strong.... You wanted to be good. You would do all you can do achieve your dream. You would become the number one hero!!!

Sadly, that wasn't the fate your father wanted for you. Your father despised heros, he thought they were useless wannabes wanting fame and money, that they didn't care about others but themselves. You didn't believe this. You knew it wasn't true and you would prove your father wrong. You were determined to do that, more than anything ever.

Your father didn't even know you had a quirk, it was something you kept secret from your father the moment you discovered your quirk. Yet, you were happy at the same time. Your quirk was strong, you knew it was! You knew she could do great things with it. So, you began to train herself. You overworked yourself every day to improve your strength, speed, agility, and quirk. It was almost unhealthy, but you didn't care. You knew you were getting stronger and stronger with each day. When highschool came around, everyone with quirks were sent to schools for them specifically. But you, since you were 'quirkless' were sent to a regular school. But that didn't stop you.

After a few months of school and training, your father had gotten a job, where he would be working almost all day, and would be home very late. This was like a miracle to you. It had to be a sign! You were meant to become a hero all along! When your father dropped you off at school, instead of attending it as always, you ran down the streets, towards the famously known school known as "U.A." You ran as fast as your legs could take you. When you arrived at the school you couldn't help but stop and admire it's beauty. It was so big, it was unbelievable. And the amount of students! There was such a variety! Students with tall and small were here, some having unnatural skin and hair, others having other unique qualities. Immediately when you looked at them you could tell their quirks must be strong. Growing up you were never around many people with quirks. Not even your mother who was born with a quirk.

You were in complete awe, and you stood out like a sore thumb. But you didn't care. If you became a student here, you could prove to everyone that you could be just as strong as them. Maybe even stronger. You knew you could surpass everyone here. Applying to be a student here would bring you one step closer to becoming the number one hero. This school was your dream, and you needed to find a way to convince the principle and teachers that you deserved to go to this school. That you were worthy. You were willing to do anything for this school. You took a deep breath in. There was no room for anxiety or fear in this path that you was taking.

You ran towards the doors of the large school, you felt as if you were running towards your dream, so close, yet still so far away from your grasp. As you ran, someone had gotten in your way. You only got a chance to see their ashy blonde hair before bumping straight into them. You managed to catch your balance before falling backwards.

"Hey!!! Watch where you're going fatass!" A voice yelled at you angrily. A few eyes landed on you and the taller male, drawing attention to yourselves. "Sorry," You said quietly, trying to move past him. You didn't have time for this. But he stood in front of you, not letting you through. "Sorry's not gonna cut it, shortie." He hissed. "You think you can just run into me and leave like you didn't do anything?!"

Suddenly you began to recognize the male from somewhere... Oh no. He was Katsuki Bakugou. He won first place during the hero sport's festival at the beginning of the year. You knew exactly what his quirk could do, if he wanted to right now, he could completely blow your face to bits.

"I don't have time for this." You said, annoyed. You put on an act. Acting as if you weren't scared of him at this very moment. You could take him, you wouldn't let him take you down. You made her way past him, hearing him yell at you as he tried to grab your arm, but you dodged easily and began to run back to towards the school, ignoring the stares and whispers.

"I can do this, I can do this." You said quietly to yourself. You searched around the school until you found the principle's office. You didn't even want to think about how hard it was to find this specific room. You knocked on the door, but to your surprise it wasn't the principle who opened the door, instead it was a teacher. He has black hair that went down to his shoulders and eyes that looked like he hadn't slept.

"Who are you-" He began but you completely cut him off.

"Shota Aizawa, Mr. Eraserhead sir! It such an honor to finally meet a hero like you! I've read so much about you and your quirk! It's a dream come true to finally see you in person! You must be wondering what I'm doing here, well," You said, finally looking up at him. "I want to attend this school and be in your classroom sir! Becoming a hero has been my number one dream since childhood. I've trained myself everyday, to become strong like you and the other students and heros at this school! I know I'm late, and there are many reasons as to why I couldn't apply earlier for the entrance exams, I can explain that, but sire, if you could please just give me a chance to prove myself to you, I promise, I won't let you down. I swear to you, I can and I will surpass everyone in your class."

Aizawa was obviously taken back by the your sudden outburst. He didn't know anything about this student, yet you came into this school, knowing who he was exactly, and seemed so determined to get into his class, and you believed could surpass everyone of his students. His students were strong, he had a lot of faith in them... But you seemed so confident in yourself. It was a good quality. But still... who even were you.

"Come inside, we'll discuss more with Mr. Principal." he said, allowing you in.

Luckily, Nezu heard what the you had told Mr. Aizawa. He looked at you with a smile. "Please, come sit young one." He said. You listened and sat in from of him, politly putting your hands in your lap.

"What's your name?" He asked you.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." You said.

Nezu quickly typed your name into the computer in front of him. He looked back at you. "According to your files, it appears you are quirkless?" He said.

"No, I'm not. Thats a lie. You see, my father despises quirks and heros. He is against the idea of me becoming a hero. So I've kept my quirk a secret from him. He wouldn't approve of me and my decisions." You explained, looking down.

Aizawa felt pity for the you.

For you, you had always been alone in your constant struggle in becoming a hero. You were used to it. Luckily... You always had other hero's to admire from afar.

"Well, tell me. What's your quirk?" He asked you.

You smiled. This was your chance. "I call my quirk 'earth manipulation.' I have the ability to create fissures, avalanches, earthquakes and mudslides. I can surf on a boulder for faster midair transportation, I can erect walls of solid stone or rock for protection, bring forth autonomous creatures composed of rock and stone, trigger the eruption of volcanoes, and control and manipulate lava and magma." You explained. "I know all this because I've take the time to discover what I can do with my quirk and what my limitations are. I am still training to further widen my range of power and speed and trying to expand my limits." You explained.

"Very interesting..." Nezu said, thinking a lot. He looked at Aizawa. "Mr. Aizawa, I'm leaving the choice to you. Will you take this young girl in as one of your students?" He asked.

Your eyes went to Aizawa, they were filled with curiosity and hope. You wondered if he was willing to take you in.

"And before you make your decision I want both of you to know, that Miss (L/n) here will need to catch up on a the work and training she's been missing out on. I trust you'll help her with that, Mr. Aizawa." Nezu added, now he looked at you. "Are you willing to do that, Miss (L/n)?"

You nodded. "I'll do all the work I have to in order to be in this class."

Now it was all left to Aizawa to decide.

The whole class was talking about it. The new student. No one knew who it was. No one even knew if it was a boy or a girl.

"Deku! Don't tell me your nervous about the knew student too?" Uraraka said as she looked at him. "Of course I am... We know nothing about them, and why are they coming in so late in the school year?" He asked.

"I heard it was a guy with a quirk like Tokoyami's." Someone said.

"I hope its a girl... Maybe this time I'll be able to lure her into my love..." Mineta said, drool coming out of his mouth.

"Thats enough everyone! Whoever it is, its our job as a class to make them feel welcome and appreciated! That said I expect everyone to be kind amd welcoming!" Iida said seriously to everyone.

Everyone agree.

"Tsk, whoever it is, they gotta be pretty behind, being so late into the school year. I don't see why they dont put them with the extras in class B or C. Heck, they'd probably be better off in class E. If they really wanted to become a hero they would have gone through the entrance exams like the rest of us. What a coward." Bakugou said.

Aizawa entered the classroom and everyone went quiet immediately.

"Alright class, as you already know we have a new student with us today. I expect all of you to be on your best behavior and to treat this student with respect. I know some of you may be upset that she's managed to get in this class without going through the entrance exam like the rest of you, but I can assure you she has spent the last few weeks preparing and catching up with all of you. And I even got to observe her go through a obstacle similar to the entrance exam, and I can assure you she has worked hard to be in this class." Mr. Aizawa explained.

So it was a girl... Deku thought. He wondered what her quirk was, from the way Mr. Aizawa put it, it had to be pretty strong.

"(Y/N), you can come in now." Aizawa spoke. All the eyes were on the (h/c) haired girl as she came in, wearing the school's uniform. She had (H/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that seemed filled with... Determination.

Your eyes scanned the class, you recognized many faces from the festival. And that one boy who you ran into.

Bakugou, he obviously seemed angry and shocked to see her.

"Please (Y/n), introduce yourself."

You nodded. "Hi everyone, my name is (Y/n) (L/n). I'm very honoured to be in the presence of such strong future heros. I hope that I prove to you all that I am worthy of being here, with all of you." You said, and bowed to everyone.

"Damn shortie what the hell are you doing here?!" Bakugou suddenly yelled and stood up. All eyes went to him, then back to You.

"Katuski Bakugou, thats no way to greet your new classmate. Sit down right now." Aizawa hissed.

Bakugou grumbled before sitting back down.

"(Y/n), do you mind answering any questions your classmates may have."

You shook her head. "No, of course not." You reassured.

Deku was the first to raise his hand. "Um yes?" You said. "U-uh hi! I'm Izuku Midoriya. But you can call me Deku! I was wondering, what's your quirk?" He asked.

"Earth manipulation." You said.

"Wow! And how does it work? Is there a limit of ways you can use your powers? Or is it-"

"Save it for lunch Midoriya." Aizawa said. Deku blushed. "Oh, sorry..."

Denki raised his hand. "Yes?"

"So where are you from?" He asked.

"I'm from here actually." You explained. "Really? How come I've never seen you around then? I mean, I would have remembered a cute face like yours." Denki said.

"Well thats probably because I dont go out much, and I also went to a private school for young girls when I was younger, and even after, when i wasn't in school I would be training in my spare time so I didn't really have time to meet other people. But I'm sure even if we did you probably wouldn't have remembered me." You explained, completely throwing Denki's advances towards you out the window.

"So you train a lot?" Bakugou asked.

"To become a hero." You replied.

"How come you didn't go through the exams at the beginning of the year?" He asked.

"I was unable to due to personal circumstances..." You said, not wanting to to into detail about your father completely despising the sole thought of you being a hero.

Bakugou didn't look too pleased with you.

"Go ahead and take a seat, (Y/n)." Aizawa said to you and your nodded and went to the only empty seat in the room, which just so happened to be in front of Bakugou.

'this is gonna be a long school year...' You thought.

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quarantined-with-bucky · 4 years

Text

Superpower

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~4,300

Summary: Bucky has an infatuation with The Incredibles that he might be taking too far. It takes some stern words from you to help him figure that out.

Warnings: A bit of angst, but also fluff, too

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and showing so much love to my last fic so much! I hope you all enjoy this one just as much. I like to write based off of little pieces of inspiration, so this time it was a tweet from Dr. Thema on Twitter and a response by Ashley C. Ford. I bolded both quotes since the quote-block format I usually use doesn’t fit right here!

...

“Super-strength is a superpower.”

“I never said it wasn’t. I was saying that you don’t have it.”

Bucky scoffs and folds his arms across his broad chest. In this moment it was hard to tell if he was puffing it out on purpose or if he had been putting in extra reps in the gym. Probably both, you decide. “Please, (Y/N), we just watched The Incredibles. We both know that I am literally Mr. Incredible.”

You couldn’t stifle your laugh. Two months ago, Bucky decided to catch up on all the movies he missed over the past seventy years. It took years to finally understand the internet, modern technology, and Wi-Fi (to be fair, you still aren’t exactly sure how that last one works, but you got the point across just fine). While Bucky had seen the basic movies: classic, old-timey movies, it was time to focus on the more enjoyable movies: kid movies. You watched Wall-E, making sure to explain the implications of that movie, Up, obviously you both cried, and Lilo & Stitch, an underrated classic.

Last night, in preparation for this mission, you’d insisted in watching The Incredibles. You thought it would hype him up for the tropical mission Steve was bringing him (and Sam) along on. And boy oh boy you were spot on. It had been twelve hours of nonstop Incredibles talk.

The night before, you two were snuggled up on the couch, mountains of blankets on top of you, bowls of popcorn and candy littered around you. Bucky’s arm slid around your back and you used the crook of his shoulder as a pillow. “What is going on here,” Bucky muttered to himself, squinting at the screen as the beginning of the movie started, Mr. Incredible fumbling around with his microphone.

You grinned in anticipation, wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling yourself closer to him. “Isn’t it so cute?” You said into his chest.

Bucky shoves his mouth full of popcorn, laughing loudly at Frozen talking about babes and Mr. Incredible ranting about the world in jeopardy. You didn’t think that he’d be laughing this much already (you know it’s a cinematic masterpiece, but still); maybe this movie was just that relatable. Although you were just a desk jockey in the Avengers tower, you knew they were always off saving the world and sacrificing themselves to do so.

It was safe to say that Bucky clearly enjoyed the movie – it just felt so realistic to him. The next morning, he spent breakfast rambling on about the fact that Syndrome literally lived in a volcano; how could Mr. Incredible not know? Tony brought up the point that Hydra set up camp in the exact opposite climate, so Bucky should cut the animators some slack. Bucky was not having it. “Aren’t you technically Edna Mode?” He rhetorically asked Tony with a deadpan stare.

Tony scoffed, holding a hand over his heart to feign hurt, before returning the glare to Bucky. “Remind me to talk to you about your hobo suit later.” With that, he left the kitchen, strutting down the hall, followed with him yelling: “no capes!” as Thor walked past him, the god raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Later that night, Bucky had to leave for a mission. You’d spent the afternoon in Bucky’s bed with each other, holding one another close; and where you tried to have some light pillowtalk, it ended up being about The Incredibles II after he got back. The two of you ended up in the shower to wash off the afternoon workout. While you were wrapped up in a robe, brushing your post-shower hair in the mirror, Bucky popped up behind you with just a towel around his waist. “Honey, have you seen my super-suit?” You could only roll your eyes and smile in response.

…

“Well if you’re Mr. Incredible, then I’m Mrs. Incredible.” You took a step closer to him, closing the space between you such that your chests are touching.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, dangerously close to the hem of your jeans. “I know,” he smiled, leaning forward to give you a kiss. “Those moves earlier? You’re even more flexible than her.”

“Cut it out, lovebirds,” Sam interrupted, his tone playful. “We don’t need a live show.”

Bucky drops his hands and leads you towards the hangar to where the jet was waiting. “All I’m saying is that I could definitely lift one of those train cars like he does. I could do more than one – ” he cuts himself off, stopping in his tracks. “(Y/N), I could juggle them.”

“Sure,” you hum, hooking your arm around his back and leaning into his side. “Although, when you think about it, you might be more of a cyborg than Mr. Incredibles, y’know?”

He groans, dropping his head and shutting his eyes. “But I don’t wanna be a cyborg.”

“We’ll watch Teen Titans then see how you feel.”

“Teen what?” He turned to stare blankly at you.

“Forget it, I’ll show you when you get back.” You smiled warmly up at him before he pulled you into a bear hug.

He kissed the top of your head and murmured “I love you” before pulling away.

“Love you, too, baby,” you responded softly. You sent him away with Steve and Sam, telling all of them to be safe before watching the jet take off.

With a sigh, you turned on your heel, seeing yourself out of the compound, heading back to your apartment. The streets of New York were busy despite the cold weather outside. Early November had its benefits: the streets were lined with orange, red, and brown as the trees were ready to shed their summer colors; but it also had its drawbacks: the streets were cold, and you could see your breath outside. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, pulling the collar closer around your exposed neck. If Bucky were here you already know he would’ve wrapped you up in his own coat to keep you warm, he would’ve held your hands in his own warm ones and nuzzled his nose against your own red nose. He was actually very sappy, when it came down to it. He was a sucker for you – constantly having to have his hands on you, make sure you were always warm.

You finished the thirty-minute walk to your apartment, taking your time to appreciate the fall scenery around you, glancing at all the Thanksgiving-soon-to-be-Christmas window displays, and enjoying the pumpkin scents around every corner. Pushing your door open, you were met with the warm heat and smell of the chrysanthemums Bucky had given you earlier that week. You tossed your keys to the side, shrugged your jacket off, and made a big mugful of hot chocolate.

You plopped down by the window and leaned your head on the glass, letting the steam from your drink warm your cheeks. You’d wondered in that moment where Bucky would be going exactly. He did mention it would be a tropical/forest vibe; the only thing you knew about that is that it’d be humid. Although you knew of Bucky’s disdain for cold, he wasn’t much of a fan of heat, either. He was much more of an autumn guy. You made a mental note to go for a walk through Central Park with him when he gets back.

He’d been gone for six days. Today was Thursday and you’d been stuck at your desk all morning. It hurt a little bit to have to walk to the Avenger’s Tower everyday without Bucky meeting you at the door (or Bucky walking with you to work, having spent the night before at your place) but you had to make do – paperwork needed to be completed.

Your eyes were aching from staring at your computer screen and your hand was cramping from all the scribbling you’ve been doing all day. The alternative was a coffee break in the café on the first floor – and you know what? Anything sounded better than work at the moment. You pop a post-it note on the door telling anyone looking for you that you’ll be back in ten. You make it to the elevator and straighten out your skirt as you stare at yourself in the reflection of the doors. Skirt a little wrinkled – nothing you can’t fix quickly in the elevator – button up shirt tucked in smartly, heels that made your feet ache, reading glasses that usually sit perched on your nose now shifted to sit on the top of your head, keeping your hair away from your face.

Despite how put-together you may look, you were exhausted and quite frankly, defeated. Not only was work kicking your ass lately but combined with the fact that Bucky was gone, and you hadn’t heard from him nearly wrecked you. Normally, he’d not take more than a day or two to reach out: a call or text simply to say he’s okay. You had to tell yourself that there was terrible reception wherever he was. That was going well for you, until you ran into Wanda one day on the elevator.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she greeted kindly, smiling wide as you entered the elevator next to her.

“Hi, Wanda, how have you been?” You responded. You’ve hung out with the Avengers at times. Usually your time with Bucky consisted of just the two of you, but sometimes you got the go-ahead to join their events and movie nights. Everyone welcomed you with open arms because not only was your personality so winning, but also you were the girl that brought Bucky out of his shell – in Sam’s words: “you made him sociable.”

“Good! It’s been busy around the complex, I’m sure you know already.” You’re not sure if she’s saying that because she’s aware of the pile of paperwork you’ve been working on for ages or if she can feel exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Yeah, you guys have given me a whole lot of paperwork,” you say, trying to give a hearty chuckle before awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

She nods and hums in response. “The boys have been busy,” she responds casually.

You bite your lip before taking a deep breath and nodding in affirmation. “I haven’t heard from Bucky lately, so I’d imagine so.”

She shrugs – again so casually. Can she not feel the fact you’re about to freak out right now? “Actually, nobody’s heard from any of them.” How did she just end that sentence like that? Nobody’s heard from them. Not with any of this trillion-dollar equipment – it can’t connect them one continent away? She senses your panic; there’s a change in your breathing and you eyes go wide, staring now directly at the floor. “(Y/N), no. I mean – they’re fine. Just because they haven’t said anything doesn’t mean – ”

The elevator dings and opens to your floor. You politely hold up your hand to her and smile. “I get what you’re saying, Wanda. Thanks for keeping me updated.” You shuffle out the door, calling out for her to have a good day.

You make it back to your office and don’t even try to stifle your loud sigh as you plop into your chair. Fuck.

…

So, it was sufficed to say you hadn’t slept very well since that interaction. It’s been three nights since she’s told you they were basically M.I.A.; you spent your nights rolling around in bed, holding his pillow to your chest, constantly checking your phone for any kind of notification from Bucky. Without hearing from him, you didn’t know how long he’d be gone; without hearing from him, you didn’t know if he was even okay. Screw your sleeping schedule, you just needed to make sure he was even alive.

You make your way back to your office, taking a sip of the piping hot coffee and as you swing the corner you hit a brick wall.

And there was a brick wall standing in the middle of the hallway.

You gaze up at the man, blue eyes staring directly into your own. He’s breathing a little fast, especially for someone who had been standing in front of your office door, staring at the post-it note for quite some time. His hands were shoved in his pockets, shoulders a little hunched – he was nervous; something was wrong.

Very wrong.

It wasn’t even until his hand reached out to you, stopping in mid-air in front of your shirt before you noticed the coffee that spilt down the front of your shirt. It was warm, sure, but your racing heart took precedence over the splash of liquid that coated your black shirt. “Sorry, (Y/N), I – ”

“It’s fine. When did you get back?” You don’t care about the coffee; you barely even felt it. You shifted the weight between your feet, squeezing the coffee cup in your hand. Why were you so nervous? There was so much tension in the air. Just staring at him as he waited patiently for you to return from your coffee run. Neither of you knowing what to say. Its like you were strangers.

He runs a hand through his hair, huffing out a deep breath. He was actually still in uniform; you didn’t notice until you asked that question. His face was grimy, slick with sweat and remnants of mud and maybe even some flecks of blood if you squint. He then scratched at the stubble gracing his chin. “Just now.” He still can’t breathe. How was he supposed to tell you? You were certainly going to kill him when you found out.

He didn’t know what to say. He was thinking about this the whole plane ride home, the whole walk to your office, the whole ten agonizingly long minutes he’d spent waiting outside your office. But now, looking into your curiously wide eyes, glazed over with concern – you were basically paralyzed in fear; if it weren’t for your incessant shifting. It was almost driving him crazy to look at someone who is about to jump out of their skin with fear, yet unsure of what move to make or what to say. “Where is he?”

And Steve swallowed hard. “He’s okay.” You stared straight into his soul. “Well, he’s – ”

“Steve.”

“He’s alive. He got shot. A couple times.” Each fragment that left his mouth was punctuated by the prompt shutting of his mouth. It was important to him to stop himself from saying too much. Your mouth actually dropped open. There was nothing left for you to say, but your jaw dropped. He reached out and took hold of your arms in his hands. “He’s alive,” he repeated, the words not resonating in your brain (and he could see that). “He’s in med-bay. (Y/N), he is fine.” He didn’t think he could be any clearer.

Nothing made sense. You felt as though you were asked to complete a 100-piece puzzle with only three-pieces. You were struggling to comprehend anything that came out of Steve’s mouth. Instead, you sharply turned on your heel. You were calm – this cannot be emphasized enough – you walked with your shoulders pulled back and gaze straight ahead; but you weren’t looking at anything, simply following your own muscle memory on your way to the med-bay.

Steve chased after you – he walked behind you, taking long strides as to not overtake you. He kept saying your name, telling you to calm down, but you already were. Except your heart was thumping out of your chest. You couldn’t even form any more questions for Steve. Obviously: “where was he shot” was a glaring question, “how close to death was he” is another; you can’t even put those words together right now.

You shove open the doors to med-bay, blatant disregard for the coffee still in your hand, splashing now-tepid liquid again on your shirt and sleeve. That’s when you see him: sprawled out on a cot that’s too small for him; his boots hung off the end of the bed, dry mud caked to the bottom of his heavy boots, flaking onto the floor. As soon as you’d shoved the door open, Steve following you in toe, Bucky’s head lifted towards you. He actually grinned.

You’d nearly fainted. His face was littered with cuts and scrapes, dirt around each wound scrubbed away by the doctor then coated in slick, clear antibiotic. His shirt was long gone, leaving him in his combat boots still riddled with weapons (visibly and concealed, you could only assume) and his dirty boots. His chest was completely bandaged; he was grateful you’d walked in after he’d already been covered because he knew that he’d be hearing an earful from you if you’d actually been able to see the damage. This way, you’d only be able to see the wounds to change the dressing probably hours from now. His body would be nearly healed.

“James.” It was stern. You weren’t mad, per say; you couldn’t be mad – you were glad he was even alive. You didn’t know why your tone was so harsh; you were pissed that he was shot, probably due to some heroic act of saving one of his teammates, or maybe he was just being careless? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to find out – they’d never tell you which it was, anyway.

“Hey, doll,” he says casually, already trying to schmooze his way back on your good side.

“James.” This time you breathed his name, finally getting close enough to put your hands on his chest – fingertips ghosting off the edge of the gauze, where the bandage met his collarbone. He took both your hands in his, pulling them together and placing them tenderly over his heart. There must have been six layers of gauze over him – not a speck of dirt or blood poking through.

“Baby, look at me,” he whispered. You flicked your eyes up to his worried ones. His eyebrows were drawn together, mouth pressed into a firm line. “I’m fine.”

“James,” you sobbed, tears that were once held at bay now falling freely down your cheeks and falling onto his pants. You choked back any more words, nodding furiously as you found it hard to breath. He pulled your arms and yanked you to the bed and now you were sitting beside him, his hands now cupping the back of your neck, cradling your head against where his neck meets his collarbone. He cooed softly into your hair, whispering sweet nothings as he rubbed your back up and down.

“I’m okay,” he murmured. And all you could do was nod against his skin, crying more and more as he pressed each kiss onto your head.

It was probably ten minutes of crying before you calmed down, now laying against him in silence, your eyes shut resting against his shoulder. “You know,” he whispered, pulling you from silence. “I always love seeing you in your work clothes. All smart and sexy.” You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, snuggling further into him. “But you smell like coffee.”

…

Bucky was barred from missions for three months. And while he was physically healed within a week and a half, Steve wasn’t so sure about his mental state – and you weren’t so sure either. Actually, it had been a more than pleasant three months. He started off doing physical therapy once a day, then adding in workouts and phasing out the therapy. This occupied maybe four hours per day. That meant that the rest of his free time he spent in your office, at your apartment, and in your bed.

That would be fine with you if you could confidently say that Bucky was one hundred percent okay.

Most of the time, he’d spend all day next to you being a total chatterbox – actually, he any willing conversation he had would be about the book you were reading, that one episode of friends the two of you watched last night, rambling on remodels of his place and if he should paint his dresser. It was the unwilling conversations that he had that concerned you.

The words he’d mumble to himself as he rolled around in your bed having a nightmare. Every time, you’d spend five minutes trying to wake him up. At first you started out by nudging him awake, it developed to the state that now you had to fully grab his arm and shake him wildly to get him up. You’d sit there, pulling your hands through his hair, whispering sweet nothings until he calmed down. Every time, you’d ask him if he wanted to talk about it; he’d say now. You then asked him to tell you – you pleaded for him to let you into that side of his life. You begged to understand and cried for him – with him.

It was no different tonight.

If he wouldn’t talk, then you would. “Baby, you can’t keep doing this.” He sat up in bed, sheets twisted around his legs, leaning over with his back pressed into the iron-rung headboard. It was cool against his hot skin – the only thing making it semibearable as the bars pressed into the tight muscles in his back. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It’s not good for you.”

He didn’t say anything. He stared straight in front of him, his hands clasped over one another on his lap. You held one of his forearms in both hands, dragging your fingers in light patterns softly over his skin. You continue pleading with him: “you can tell me anything. Please, I hope you understand that.”

With this, he peers up at you with sorrow filled eyes. You can barely see them in the dark. “I know I can. It’s not a big deal, though. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You drop his arm in frustration, instead bringing your hands up to your hair and gripping it tightly, feeling like pulling your hair out might be a better option than bringing this conversation where it needs to go. “You have these nightmares every night, James. It’s only getting worse. I can tell that you’re hurting, and it hurts me to see you like that. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it, I can see that somethings wrong.”

He shrugs. “I can take it. Look, I’m sorry if I keep waking you up. I won’t stay over anymore.” He turns his head sheepishly towards his lap again, shoulders hunching forward. You know he thinks it’s a joke; he’s putting on an act. He wants you to curl up to his side, beg him to stay, make-out, have sex to take his mind off it, and fall asleep peacefully. You know because you’ve done it before. Multiple times.

God, he can be so annoying. “James.” Your stern tone had returned, you dropped your hands out of your hair and let them fall heavily on your lap. “A history of trauma can give you a high tolerance for emotional pain. Just because you can take it doesn’t mean you have to.”

He wasn’t sure what to do in that moment. There was nothing to say – nothing he could say. There wasn’t anything he could follow that up with; not a joke, not a sound, not even an intelligent sentence. He instead stared down at his hands, not even moving a muscle, not even to blink.

You were calm once again. You knew that your words had finally gotten through to him. Your relationship was strong: you’d built an emotional connection such that you two could be in the middle of the most serious discussions and still be able to crack a joke. But the both of you knew this wasn’t the time. That’s why he still hadn’t said anything: he didn’t have a smartass response, nor a comment he could make to get out of this one.

“Suffering is not a superpower.”

And with those final words, Bucky broke, his face contorting in pain, eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling into an open frown. His shoulders shook slowly as he struggled to breath, holding his face in his hands. You couldn’t sit idly by, so you grabbed his hands and swung a leg over him, sitting on his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist so he had something to hold on to; his arms wrapped tighter around you as his head dropped to the front of your chest, quietly sobbing into your shirt. You secured your arms around him, looping them over his shoulders and around his neck.

You sat there absorbing his tears, not saying a word, not even whispering a small “shh.” It was about time he let his emotions out and you weren’t about to cut him off now. You’d spent every waking moment with him (save for his workouts and physical therapy) so you knew how long this emotional release had been building up inside of him. Every once and a while everyone needs a good cry – Bucky hadn’t had one in years.

You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there. His sobs turned into quiet sniffles turned into calm, steady breathing. You knew this conversation was far from over. He needed therapy, or at the least needed to vent to you more often. Whatever solution you two would come up with could wait until the morning. Right now, he needed rest, he needed tranquility.

You didn’t know if he was asleep, and hell, you, yourself, were almost asleep. It wasn’t until he broke the silence when you got your answer. “Can we watch The Incredibles II?”

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #fic #fanfiction #captain america #bucky barnes imagine #angst #fluff

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kentuckywrites · 3 years

Text

Tell Me A Story

The story of the man who could not die, and how he allowed himself a moment to truly live.

It had been a bad day.

A mission gone wrong. BLADEs dying beside him. Astral Heals given too late. Skells destroyed. And once again, Pongo was the only one standing. He was the only one left.

Pongo walked. He climbed up a familiar ridge and positioned himself so he could see the night sky and the ocean beyond the cliffside. The cold Primordian air tasted ever so slightly of salt. But more than that, he tasted blood, fresh on his lips and permeating through his skin and heart, electrifying the guilt beneath. He could already hear a cacophony of voices, telling him it wasn’t his fault, there was nothing he could do, he gave it his all and sometimes bad things happen.

But...bad things always happened. He knew he could’ve done something, anything, to save people. The guilt only grew with every passing day. Would he ever be strong enough? Would he ever be able to save people? Pongo was starting to believe he’d been lied to. He couldn’t do this. He was a fool for even trying. He was going to disappoint everyone who ever believed in him, but giving up was better than continuing to lie, continuing to feed into this picture of a perfect hero.

Pongo was tired. Tired of always falling, tired of getting back up. He was tired of losing people and never having a say in their safety, despite doing everything in his fucking power to be a protector.

He sat down on the cliffside, soaking in the night air. He closed his eyes, feeling the ground beneath his fingertips, and eventually coming to discover that Mira was closer than before. In his mind he could feel the planet shift, almost as if it were uncomfortable. Eventually Pongo addressed it, since Mira seemed unwilling to speak.

“Mira? Tell me a story.”

There was no response, at first. A strange request, one that Mira wasn’t anticipating. But then, it began to echo inside his mind, its words soft and soothing.

There once was a man who could not die. This man could throw himself into explosions, into deep fiery volcanoes, into the deepest pits of the planet, and yet he always returned. He used this invincibility to save others, time and time again, and he never asked anything in return.

Pongo lied down, staring straight up at the stars. “What happened to that man?”

He died again, one day. When he returned, things were normal. No one was surprised to see this man, because he had died so many times that it had become a routine. There was no fanfare, no congratulations, no thanks given for saving lives. It is the simple truth that humanity tends to forget their heroes, for they have short lifespans in the minds of men. The man who could not die was no longer a hero, because heroes are original, and there were plenty of other heroes who had never died. That was a far more impressive feat to most.

“Where did he go? What became of him?”

He died, but in a manner unlike any other death he had overcome before. He meant nothing to humanity anymore. And so, he gave up his life of being a hero. He put down his sword, his shield, his guns and his armor. He embraced being a simple man, never once throwing down his life for another, and simply worked to enjoy the life he had been given. The life he kept throwing away for others, the life that had never garnered any respect past being a necessity. He learned more about himself than he ever could have in his time being a hero. And he was happy, truly happy.

“But he was a hero…” Pongo breathed, “How could he abandon everyone who needed him? Did people think he was selfish for leaving?”

Never. Not once. Because in the end, he was a hero amongst heroes. They continued to fight, and more people became inspired to become heroes themselves as a result of the deeds the man performed.

“So...so he never meant anything, even after all that time.”

Maybe not to the entire populace. But the lives he saved, and the friends he made...he meant the world to them. And they meant the world to him. It hurt the man, leaving their sides, but in the end he never truly left them. He was happier living his own life, but that never meant he had to shy away from his friends. And they recognized this happiness too, and they were happy for him.

Pongo was quiet. He closed his eyes, and when they opened again, tears flooded down his cheeks, dripping softly onto the grass below his body.

“I am tired, Mira,” He confessed, close to the brink of sobbing, “I am so tired.”

I know.

“I want to keep fighting. I want to prove that I can save people. I want to prove that I am strong and all my training means something.”

It does. It always did.

“Then why...why am I so tired? Why do I feel so weak?”

Because your life has been dedicated to everyone but yourself. Because you have saved so many, but you have never saved yourself.

“Why would I want to?!” Pongo cried, “There is nothing here. You created me to guide them, to protect them - none of this was ever about me! And I never wanted this to be about me, because the lives I saved were always going to outweigh my own!!”

Mira’s tone shifted. Something about its softness turned into mush, into a guilt Pongo had never heard before.

You were built for greatness. You proved greatness deserves better than you.

Pongo choked on a sob, and the pain inside his heart forced him to turn over, to tuck his knees close into his chest and bury his head in between. Mira continued, even with his change in posture.

I would ask you how you managed to save people without ever saving yourself, but I know what your answer will be. You bottle every emotion up that is not joy and excitement and happiness, because who would want to see a hero cry? You have proven time and time again that you are worthy of your own life, that you can cry and be angry and curse the fates for the hand you were dealt. And yet you never complained. You kept it all inside, and now, you are bursting at the seams.

“I can keep it in,” Pongo tried to argue, but his voice cracked and his words shook.

I know you can. You did it for so long. But now...Pongo. I think you deserve to rest.

“N-No, I -”

Please. Please, Pongo. You said it yourself. You are tired, and you have every right to be. Please...just rest. Do not worry about tomorrow just yet. Rest, and dream.

Sleep had never been kind to Pongo. He knew the unconscious was capable of producing horrors far greater than the ones he faced in reality. But something in him begged and pleaded for this. Something in him was reassuring, told him that no nightmares would haunt him tonight.

So, remaining in fetal position, Pongo closed his eyes again.

“Will you be here when I wake?”

Mira chuckled sadly.

I would never leave you.

#xenoblade x #Tell Me A Story: Short Story #hey would you believe me if I said I wanted to write something lighthearted today #and instead this happened #and of course I cried because DAMN #pongo needs a hug holy shit

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marinette-adrien · 5 years

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MischiefGod!AU

Ok, so the amazing @sidsinning came up with an amazing AU and gave me persmision to write a fanfic about it. It took me a long long time and I’m sorry for that. But finally here it is!

The lovely people who asked to be tagged: @kay-great @geminikessa @carolinaleo-blog @nadinemarie-art @ellysia-banearrow @skellingtonia @waitingfortheshadows @ink-stains-on-ceilings @crisjim @dulcetfoxao3

Sorry if I forgot someone. Totally not intentional.

People who I saw asking for writers to write it or if someone was writting it, saying they’d read it or needed more of it, will be following this au or something along those lines: @washikook @smackthat-allonthefloor @greymouser13 @miraculousshipping @missca7astropcat @rhymeringlamb @sharkiethesharkperhaps @bridgetinerabbit @wewonmrstark3-0-0-0 @a-mahou-shoujo @thenovelartist @me4ml @inkshila @sakuramarie @parlezvousladybug @blue-peach14 @teardroplet @theunfortunatefangirl @doll-gloss @berry-loves-otome @trapqueeni @onesmolbirb @millie27love

I deeply apologize if you didn’t want to be tagged. Please ignore it. I just didn’t want anyone to feel I left them out.

And finally I can’t start without a big shout-out to @thecaptainfandom who bore with me for three days and beta’ed the flip out of this work. It was a mess and now is readable. She deserves all the praise.

Anyways, here’s the story! Hope you enjoy.

AO3 link

The Mischief Bride

Gods die too. They live and they age, even if it is slow enough to deceive time and humans. Gods live and play and sometimes, they trick and they lie. Sometimes they love and they care. Other times, they just want entertainment.

Kim, god of rivalry and fire, was one of the latter. And he got bored pretty quickly too. He was a relentless god who didn’t discriminate between humans or other gods to challenge for a competition. He had a reputation of picking random humans who were good athletes to compare his abilities to the very best of the human race.

Generations ago, the townspeople, tired of being spirited away randomly, asked for the lord of the land to make a pact with the god. Every year, they would offer a competitor, the very best of their sport, to be challenged by him, in exchange for leaving the other humans alone.

Now, every year, Marinette’s town would offer a “sacrifice” for Kim, the god of fire and rivalry. The reason they were called sacrifices instead of competitors these days was because they never came back. Nobody knew what happened to them, but people speculated that no matter if they won or lost, they ended up dying. Perhaps they perished trying to keep up with his challenges or perhaps were punished by the god’s wrath for not being able to.

The day of the sacrifice was just around the corner but Marinette didn’t have the mind to worry about it. Sure, she was in good form but was by no means an athlete, so there were very little chances she would be picked as the sacrifice, and she had better things to worry herself with. Primordially, her parents were both sick.

Autumn had brought the flu to her household and she had her hands full attending her family’s bakery and tending to her parents. Regardless, she knew no matter how much she worked, she couldn’t afford medicine for both her mother and father.

She was scared.

She spent nights alone with her thoughts, unable to sleep and just watching them breathe. She bit back tears, wondered how she could make the medicine last just a little longer, hoping that somehow, it would be enough.

Kagami didn’t have many friends. To be precise, Kagami had only one friend, Marinette. Since they were little, people tended to mistake one for the other because they seemed very much alike. They had the same blue hair and similar height and build. Their skin was pale and their hearts were kind.

Despite appearances, one thing that they didn’t have in common was their families. While Marinette’s parents were loving and caring, Kagami’s mother was cold and reserved. She was a proud samurai that served the feudal lord of the land, which proved to be her daughter’s downfall.

Just as her mother, Kagami was a very good swordswoman, a trait that was rare among the villagers. Almost no one around these parts dared to practice and excel at any sport because then they would be selected as a sacrifice to the god of fire and rivalry. The Tsurugis, regardless, were a proud family that had always served the royal family, and was expected to be good samurai by them.

The people started to become restless. They didn’t practice any sport for fear of becoming good enough to be selected as the new sacrifice. Due to the lack of athletes this provoked, the sacrifices started being picked between people with almost no training at all. Tired of this situation, the town demanded for the feudal lord to do something about it. The solution that was finally approved and exposed to the god by prayers and rituals with incense, came in the form of a last sacrifice in the shape of a wife.

They promised a wife who would be as powerful and athletic as she was beautiful and thus, Kagami was selected. It was a great honor for Tomoe, as the lord put it, to be able to prove her loyalty by offering her daughter.

Tomoe couldn’t afford to lose her daughter, but she couldn’t afford to lose her honor either. She looked at Kagami and felt a pang of pride and shame at the same time when the girl took the news with dignity and resignation. She only made one request: to go visit her friend one last time to say goodbye. Her mother granted her permission without protest.

To Kagami’s surprise, Marinette looked exhausted. Her eyes were red and had big purple bags under them. She was paler than usual and perhaps a little bit thinner too.

They hadn’t seen each other in a while, since Kagami’s mother didn’t usually let her out of her supervision for too long, and the catching up was sad for both parts. They both cried in each other’s arms until their eyes ran dry.

Marinette felt like she was losing three people dear to her now instead of two, and life seemed gloom and grimm like never before. Late at night, Kagami’s mother went to pick her up since her daughter hadn’t return, she was hit with the resemblance of the girls that she had forgotten, and a twisted idea was planted on her mind, making her both ashamed and hopeful at the same time.

On their way home, Kagami told her mother about what Marinette was going through and that she felt bad she couldn’t do anything to help her anymore. Selfishly, she asked her mother to help her friend in her place and to her surprise, Tomoe accepted.

The very next morning, Tomoe went to see her daughter’s friend and offered her help, in exchange for a favor.

Marinette accepted.

III

Marinette knew she was being taken advantage of, but she bit back the injustice and kept going. For her parents. She knew that when Kagami realized the scheme, she would make good of her mother promise to nurse her mom and dad back to health. She hoped her friend would forgive her for taking her place, too.

Tricking the feudal lord of the land was easy. He had never seen Kagami up close and Marinette covered her head with the wataboshi anyways, so no one would suspect a thing.

Like all sacrifices before her, Marinette walked willingly to the sacred mountain where the gods would be descending soon. Legend said that during the fifteenth day of the seventh month, gods and youkais descended to Earth to have a festival and, sometimes, to interact with humans.

For that reason, anyone who had the intention of meeting them would venture to the sacred mountain. Said mountain that was actually a sleeping volcano, the very same that would wake if they dared anger the gods.

But Marinette’s step didn’t quiver when she set foot on the holy ground. She lighted her way with an oil lamp through the misty woods of the mountain and repeated to herself that she would find her husband-to-be walking northeast, so she walked until the oil ran out. She walked until the mist grew heavy and her feet hurt, and then she walked some more. She walked until she realized the moon changed positions in the sky randomly, making her confused as to where to go. She stopped when she realized she was lost.

She dropped to the ground in defeat, feeling tired and hopeless. She rubbed her feet and wondered if she was lucky or unlucky if she ended up not meeting with the god. Probably unlucky, if her town suffered the consequences.

Then, she heard a chuckle.

It was soft and falsely sweet. When Marinette lifted her gaze looking for the source, she met a pair of olive eyes.

“A human,” said the apparition. “Are you lost?”

It was a girl with caramel colored skin and brown, long hair. She was dressed in orange from her clothes to her smile, and even though there wasn’t particularly anything wrong with her, Marinette’s gut told her something was off about the lady. When she squinted, she realized —and how could she have missed it— that the girl had the ears and the tail of a fox.

She was a kitsune, a youkai better known to be a trickster. Marinette felt alarm rise to her head, but bit her tongue to remain calm.

“I am,” she said. “Do you happen to know which way is the northeast?”

The kitsune disappeared and reappeared closer to her, to her right. Marinette stood up and followed her gaze, her uneasiness increasing. The youkai ignored her question.

“Are you, perhaps, by any chance, the god of fire’s new toy?”

She didn’t think it was wise to offer the spirit too much information, but figured that either way, there was little else she could do.

“I am this year sacrifice, yes. Would you be so kind as to point the way to the northeast, please?”

The kitsune chuckled and disappeared again.

“He’s not at his usual spot right now,” she informed, appearing right at her back. Marinette jumped to get some distance between them. “He got tired of waiting and decided to go the Ghost Festival instead”

Marinette cursed her luck. She hoped he wouldn’t be too angry because she didn’t appear and roast their village by morning.

“I can show you the way to the festival if you want,” offer the kitsune with a sweet smile. A little too sweet, perhaps.

The young baker still had reservations. She didn’t feel comfortable following a kitsune. She would probably play a prank on her, preventing her from reaching the god Kim.

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. It would be more than enough if you pointed the right way for me to follow.”

The kitsune laughed again and disappeared once more. She wasn’t in sight for a few moments and Marinette feared to have offended her, provoking for her abandon her to her luck. But the youkai talked to her once more, making herself visible again sitting on a low branch of a tree.

“It’s that way,” she said, pointing ahead.

Marinette looked to the path that the mist opened when the youkai pointed at it, still feeling uneasy. Sensing her discomfort, the kitsune giggled one last time.

“You can trust me,” she said making the gesture of crossing her heart. “I never lie.”

Having no other alternative, Marinette thanked her and sighed, trying to appease her distrust as she heard the spirit ghostly laugh disappear as she followed the path she had told her.

It had been a lie, of course. Marinette kept walking until the sun threatened her with down, but she couldn’t find nor the festival nor the god. She felt stupid, gullible and hopeless but refused to give up. She swallowed her tears and kept going, not ready to abandon hope yet.

Then, she heard sobbing.

Her eyes tried looking for the source jumping from place to place around her until she finally located it. A very small, red creature kept flying around a spot near the overgrown roots of a tree. Even with her own problems unresolved, Marinette couldn’t help to stop to see if she could help.

“Hello,” she said to the creature, approaching slowly. “Are you okay?” She asked as an icebreaker.

The little spirit turned in surprise and regarded the bride she had in front of her.

“Oh, hello,” she returned the greeting politely, drying her big blue eyes with a tiny, tiny hand. “Well, no,” she admitted.

“What’s the problem?” Inquired Marinette, coming closer. She noticed that it was a kind of fairy with antennas and big black spots that made her resemble a ladybug. She didn’t recognize the kind of youkai that she was, but thought that it was perhaps a zashiki-warashi. If she offered assistance, maybe the youkai would actually help her in exchange.

“It’s one of my earrings. I dropped one of my precious earrings down this hole in the ground, but it’s too small to reach, even for me.”

Marinette approached the area the youkai was hovering over, and discovered a small hole that formed between the roots of the tree and held something that shined. It was far enough to be unreachable for the small creature or her fingers, but she gave it a thought and looked over her surroundings to find some inspiration. She ended up grabbing a thin stick and one of her hair pieces that she tied with a decorative ribbon from her outfit to make a tool long enough to reach it and pick it up with the hair piece, so in a few minutes, the earring was back to its owner.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

The little creature was beyond happy, and her happiness was contagious. Marinette laughed with her but promptly remember that she was in a predicament too.

“Hey, by any chance, would you know how I can get to the gods? I have only encountered youkais tonight.”

The spirit then seemed to become aware of the human in god territory and taking notice of her clothes, she had a feeling about what was happening.

“Oh,” she said quietly, “where you offered as sacrifice?”

“Well, yes. But it’s fine. I did it willingly. I cut a deal to save my parents, so it’s alright for the most part, I guess.”

“I see. You must have a very kind heart…” said the creature, noticing that the young lady in front of her seemed to have her motivations always in helping others, and took a like of her almost instantly.

“Marinette. My name is Marinette.”

“Well, Marinette, my name is Tikki and I can help you find the god you are looking for”

“Really? That would be amazing! Thank you!”

“Which god are you searching for? This part of the mountain is the territory of one of them, actually.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, surprised. Perhaps the kitsune hadn’t been lying after all. “Then I was in the right path, after all!”

“I can send you to him if you want, I can sense he’s close”

“Oh, thank you, thank you Tikki! That would be wonderful, you’ll be saving my life!”

Tikki giggled. “It would be my pleasure, Marinette!”

Feeling like things were finally getting back on track, Marinette saw Tikki fly around her a couple of times and then, she felt the ground disappear under her feet. She stumbled backwards a couple of steps and then fell on her butt.

She sat up and lifted the wataboshi to inspect her surroundings and was immediately met with a pair of green, mischievous eyes.

“W-where am I?” Asked Marinette disorientated.

In front of her was a young man with golden hair wearing a montsuki. Similar to the previous youkai, he had a pair of black cat ears crowning his head. Unlike the previous spirit, though, she could feel a different aura from him. It felt old and dangerous. He wasn’t a youkai, he was a god.

His eyes gleamed with excitement when he saw her and he showed her a smile full of teeth and untold secrets.

“You’re in the Sacred Mountain, girl. In our territory, to be precise.”

Marinette then took notice of the small black creature floating close to the god’s head. It had green eyes too and was similar in size to Tikki, if not a little bigger. Much like the god beside him, he resembled a cat.

“Oh. Are you the god of fire?” She asked, composing herself.

Both of them interchanged a look and then smiled down to her.

“Why, yes. Yes I am. And who are you, pretty lady?”

She jumped to kneel in front of him, suddenly assuming a formal posture. The most important part was yet to be accomplished. She had to make sure that the god accepted the new pact.

“I am Marinette! And my people begs for you to take me as a wife as a last sacrifice, as our prayers had supplicated in the name of your clemency!”

There was a moment of silence, and neither the god nor the creature said a thing.

“Your people thought that getting the god of rivalry, the very one that likes to challenge anything that moves to an athletic competition, a wife, would solve the problem?”

Put it that way, Marinette recognized that it sounded kind of moronic but she was just trying to help her people, especially her parents, and following orders.

“Please,” she said quietly having no other argument.

He looked at her and found nothing but sincerity in the form of big, expressive eyes, pleading and impossibly blue.

The god’s heart jumped on his chest without his permission, making him feel a weird tug on his heartstrings. Usually, if it wasn’t funny, he was not interested, but there was something about this lady that felt odd, though not in a bad way.

“She smells… like luck,” said his companion, getting close to her and giving her a sniff, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Well, then I guess it’s your lucky day, pretty lady. I’ll take your offer.”

Marinette blinked.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he extended a hand to her, to help her stand up. “Yes. It was wife day after all, wasn’t it Plagg?”

“Yes, yes it was!” smirked the little black fairy-like-creature.

Marinette admitted to herself that indeed she ended up being pretty lucky, successfully achieving her goal to reach the god and convince him to take her as a wife. She extended her hand to take his and he grasped her in a tight grip. He pulled her to her feet and a red string tied their wrists together. The ribbon shined and popped, disappearing into tiny sparks.

Marinette felt the ground banish from underneath her for a moment, unable to divert her gaze from his face. It was probably rude. Humans weren’t supposed to look at gods in the eyes, she believed, but couldn’t help herself. His green gaze was mesmerizing, all deep and lively and fresh as a lime. He caught her when her footing failed and gave her a wicked smile.

“T-that’s it?” She asked, catching her words. “Are you my husband now?”

The gleam in his eye sparkled with mischief.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Marinette had kept going for the last couple of weeks by mere will power. First taking care of her increasingly ill parents and then of the bakery by herself. She lost a whole night of sleep after Kagami’s visit and later operated almost on automatic mode focusing only on the task she had been entrusted with. When she successfully achieved it and her worries about the village and her parents were lifted from her shoulders, it was as if the strings that had been keeping her standing and going were cut.

She remembered the god of rivalry and fire had asked her to come with him, as he was bound to return to his castle since the festivities were ending, and follow him she did. Or at least, she thought she did because now she was waking up, which meant she must have fallen asleep at some point. She didn't remember when it happened but there were a few times in her life when it did. She woke up disoriented, covered in silks, in a room she didn't recognize.

The sun was high in the sky while the last time she had seen it, it had been just rising. She looked around and she found herself in a big bed, like the ones people from other parts of the world slept in, the ones lifted from the ground. It was very comfortable and probably the reason she had slept like a baby. The room was spacious and a big balcony window let the sunlight in, painting golden rays in the dark floor and blankets.

But most importantly, she noticed, she wasn't alone.

A familiar blond head lied beside her. He was not touching her and was facing the opposite side of the window and her. His breathing was even, denoting he was asleep but when she fell off the bed in her haste, he woke up.

Marinette grimaced in pain and heard a chuckle. A pair of mischievous green eyes looked at her from above on top of the bed, paired with a playful smirk.

"Where am I?" asked Marinette.

"I carried you like a princess. You fell asleep on me on the way home.”

"Why were we on the same bed?"

"Well, I mean we're married, remember? Why wouldn't we be?"

Marinette was speechless for a moment. She tried to come up with a reasonable answer to rebutt his argument, but could only come up with none. She sat there on the hard floor letting her eyes stare into nothingness. At that moment, she was hit with the realization.

She was married. To a god.

“Are you okay?” He asked when she didn’t say anything else.

“No,” came the immediate answer. She was a little overwhelmed.

He had the nerve to chuckle again. Marinette recomposed a little to glare at him, but he just stretched, completely unimpressed. He looked like a cat perched in a tree looking down at her like that and she could almost picture him swaying a tail contently.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out.

“We are in my castle of course, princess. Your new home. Or should I call you queen?”

“Queen?”

He crawled out of the bed towards her, never losing his smile. Something in him screamed “danger” but something else locked her in place and made her heart race. He kept getting closer and closer until she could feel his breath on her face.

“Queen of Fire and Rivalry. Queen of everything that I reign of. My Queen.”

He took her left hand, the one he had taken when the invisible ribbon tied them together, and kissed it without dropping her gaze. She blushed. He was very attractive.

She noticed then that the ribbon had left a mark like a bracelet on her wrist, a remainder of their pact.

“Or would you like to be the Queen of something else?”

He was teasing her, she knew, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad. She was just a sacrifice. She had ventured the mountain, giving up on her future so her parents could have one. She was ready to die trying or live like a prisoner in a loveless marriage. She never thought she would look at her husband and blush. She never thought that he would call her his queen, sharing his rein.

Perhaps, she thought, gods didn’t think so little of humans. Perhaps she was starting to feel truly lucky, and not just by being able to save others. Perhaps she wasn’t doomed. Perhaps she didn’t hate her situation anymore.

“Your queen is fine” she said, quietly.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly not expecting an honest response.

“Your queen is fine,” she repeated, letting a smile tug at her lips this time.

Slowly, he returned the smile and for the first time, it wasn’t mischievous or teasing. It had something in it that reminded Marinette of tenderness and hope.

Marinette followed him to the dining room, where a banquet was expecting them. The little black creature that accompanied the god the night before was already filling his mouth with cheese. He introduced himself as Plagg and then proceeded to explain to her that he was a kwami. Every god had one following them around who shared the nature of the god powers. They were the companions of the gods.

She discovered Plagg loved cheese as much as he loved teasing Kim, and that the blond pretended to be deeply offended if the tiny creature dismissed his puns but Plagg had worst on his repertoire, if she was honest. They seemed to be very good friends.

She didn’t pay much attention to their banter once she focused on her meal though. Now that she thought of it, she hadn’t eaten in almost a day and even before that, her meals had been frugal thanks to her lack of appetite. The table in front of her was filled with delicious fruit, cheese, seeds, tea and wine so she helped herself to seconds of everything. She ate until her belly couldn’t fit one more bite.

Shortly after breakfast, Kim excused himself, saying he had some business to attend to, but that he would be back in a few hours.

“You can familiarise yourself with your new home in the meanwhile, my queen,” said her new husband with that mischievous smile that she was learning to recognize as the one he almost always wore. “If you need something, just ask for it and it shall be given to you.”

He stole a kiss from her cheek and then he was gone with his kwami before she could ask to who she could ask for her hypothetical needs.

So she finished her breakfast and decided she would follow his advice and explore the castle. She spent the next couple of days wandering around its hallways, which were empty for the most part. The palace was made of stone and has long staircases that led from one floor to another several times. It was huge and a little lifeless, with dark marble walls that gave the palace the appearance of being cracked. It reminded her of the European fairytale like castles, where invisible servants would tend to the inhabitants from the shadows.

The god of fire and rivalry disappeared everyday by the afternoons, but always returned to have their meals together, which Marinette had to admit, was nice. He was a bit of a dork with a bad sense of humor that never failed to pull a smile out of her nonetheless. As the days pass, she learned that his jokes and bright smiles hid a lonely, old soul underneath the youthful appearance.

During her exploration around her new home, she discovered that everything was… raw, in a sort of way. The bed was covered in linens and silks, but they were just fabric instead of blankets. The walls were bare of paintings or any kind of art, and even the furniture, despite being indeed luxurious and made of high quality woods and materials, was simple and minimalistic.

Even their meals were simple. Their table was always full of delicious fruit, vegetables, meat, fish, grains, seeds, milk, honey, cheese and bread but they were all fresh or cooked very simply. There was plain bread but never pies or cakes. There was meat but never stew. The fruit was always fresh and clean but never in a dessert. When she asked him about it, he shrugged.

“It’s because I’m the god of…” he stopped, with the chopsticks midway to his mouth.

“Fire,” said Plagg, giving him a funny look. “He’s the god of fire and sometimes he burns his own stuff by accident. The servants are not good at crafts and that’s why the castle is what it is”

“You burn stuff by accident?” asked Marinette, alarm in her voice.

“No,” said he quickly. “Well, sometimes, I guess. But it hasn’t happened in a long, long time, has it Plagg?” He glared at his kwami.

The Kwami agreed dismissively, getting back on his cheese, and the subject was quickly diverted after that.

After that incident, Marinette took it to herself to make something of the materials that were scattered around the castle. She made actual blankets for the bed and found the kitchen to cook when she could. She made quiches and cookies and dumplings. Bread, of course, she always baked because old habits die hard.

The first time Kim got home to a table full of dishes, he had a bewildered expression on his face. He didn’t stop singing her praises when he discovered that she made something new everyday. Not only food, but the palace was suddenly beginning to feel like a home. The windows had curtains and the bed had actual blankets. Suddenly there were cushions on the chairs and an amazing smell of bread in the air at lunchtime.

“You’re amazing, Marinette,” he’d whisper every night before falling asleep while holding her hand, and she’d felt a tingling in her heart at the tenderness of his voice.

The only thing he did was hold her hand, but she found herself snuggling closer and closer with every moonrise. He never asked for a consummation of marriage, but she didn’t know how god-human marriages worked. She already felt very lucky to have control of his domain.

She only had to wish for something out loud or command something to be done, and as if by invisible servants, her instructions were followed. She never saw anyone outside or inside the castle, besides Kim or Plagg, but even though she appreciated the hours he gave her for herself, she started to feel lonely.

And then, she met Tikki again.

Tikki, now that she thought about it, looked just like a Kwami, but Plagg was always near Kim and if the little red creature was indeed a Kwami, Marinette wondered why she wasn’t with her god.

She had been sewing in the castle, making clothes for herself with all the pretty fabrics available in the house when her little friend appeared.

“Marinette! I was hoping to find you here.”

“Tikki! I’m so happy to see you! What are you doing here?”

“I came to visit Plagg.”

“Ah, I should have guessed you were friends. He’s not here though. But I’m sure they’ll be here soon. Would you like to wait with me?”

“I’d love to,” she said, and sat on the table Marinette was using as a desk.

“Tea and pastries for Tikki, please,” she said, and in a few moments, a trail with what was ordered appear beside the Kwami.

“I can see that you are doing well,” said her guest. “Now you manage a castle instead of being lost!” she giggled.

Marinette smiled.

“All thanks to you, Tikki. I was so lucky that I found you before the night ended. I could find my way to the god I was looking for and convince him to stop the annual sacrifices. My village is safe because you helped me.”

“You did mention your village. I’m glad they’re safe but how are you doing?”

“I’m doing better than I thought possible, to be honest,” Marinette confessed. It was easy talking to Tikki. She picked the needle once again and let herself ramble while she worked. “I feel a little lonely sometimes, but I never imagined I’d actually come to like my new husband. He’s kind and attentive. He respects my space and I think he genuinely is amazed by my cooking and sewing skills” she giggled. “He gave me power over his domain since day one and… yeah, I think I like him.”

Tikki looked at her with giddy eyes and a kind smile.

“I’m happy for you, Marinette. I knew Plagg chose well. Adrien is such a gentle soul, a perfect decision for the God of Destruction.”

Marinette went rigid.

“The god of what?”

“The god of destruction” repeated Tikki slowly, eyeing her reaction. “And mischief. And misfortune.”

Who, now?

Marinette looked at her friend like she had just slapped her.

“But… but… no. His name isn’t Adrien. He is Kim, the god of the sun, rivalry and fire! The one who would melt my land with the volcano if there isn’t an annual sacrifice!”

But her memory was bombarding her with all the times he had almost slip. The times Plagg and him would send each other furtive or disapproving glances, as if trying to keep a secret from being revealed.

“Oh. Oh, no Marinette,” said Tikki, with heavy realization. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. You were on the territory of the god of destruction, misfortune and mischief when I found you. I should have asked for clarification.”

“No, but.. but he said so himself! He is Kim, god of fire; not… not…”

“Adrien?” asked the voice she had learn to miss on her afternoons.

She turned abruptly to face him, and for the first time since she knew him, a guilty expression cast a shadow over his features.

“I am,” he said softly. “Adrien, god of destruction, mischief and misfortune. That’s me.”

There was a long pause. Tikki, who had been longing to meet with Plagg, couldn’t help but get offended on Marinette’s behalf. She flew right towards him, a big frown on her face.

“Plagg! This has your mark painted all over! Was it your idea to trick Marinette like that?”

“Well, hello to you too, cheesecake. Can see that you missed me. I didn’t know you knew the bride.”

“Plagg!”

“Ugh, I can’t talk to you when you are being unreasonable,” he said, and flew off.

“Unreasonable! I can’t believe you’d trick an innocent girl who were just trying to help her parents! How cruel can you be?” Exclaimed Tikki, following him while giving him a piece of her mind. Soon, both of them got lost in the hallways of the castle.

“It’s true, then. You are not the one who I was supposed to marry,” Her tone was calm, but her mind was racing, going through all of what that entailed. Was his kindness, the kindness that got her, fake? Was he laughing at her back while she blushed and thought that she was oh, so lucky to have such a kind and humble husband? Did he realize what he jeopardized? Her parents, her village?

Oh, her people…

What if they were already gone? What if Kim, enraged, had already burned to ashes her village while she was here playing house? She could not fathom the thought.

“Well, I… it’s true I’m not the one one you were looking for, but even gods are not free from The Fate’s domain, and after knowing you, I was hoping…”

“Hoping?” She interrupted him. “Hoping for what? That I’d forgive you? For impeding me of helping my people? My parents, who were the only reason I had to…” her voice broke. But she bit back her tears and continued. The more she thought about it, the more betrayed she felt, the more hurt she got and the more stupid she knew she had been.

“I’ve been here! Losing time, married to you! When I should have been saving my people!”

She dashed towards the door, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.

“Let me go, I have to make sure that they… that they’re not…” she could not finish that thought.

“Marinette. Marinette, listen to me. They’re fine.”

“How can you know? They could all be dead by now. My parents, my friends…”

“They are just fine, please listen to me -”

“You lied to me! You tricked me into marrying you and to let my village to die! And for what? A stupid prank?”

“I know you are mad at me, and I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I couldn’t help it. It’s who I am. I am the god of mischief.”

He probably should try to excuse himself after he explained, he realized. Marinette turned to him and pushed him hard. He stumbled back and she kept throwing her fists in his direction.

“The god of mischief! And destruction! Very well played! You destroyed everything that I care about!” She accused with tears streaming down her face. She finally collapsed to her knees and started sobbing.

“Marinette, please listen. They are fine.” He said softly, kneeling beside her. He wanted to touch her but noted that perhaps it wasn’t the best of ideas.

“How can you know?”

“Because I have been going to visit Kim everyday. I don’t really need to leave the castle to do my godly duties. And even if I did, I’m sure the world would do just fine without cataclysms for a few weeks. Or years.”

“You went… to Kim?” She asked, perplexed. She wasn’t following completely, but figured she could at least trust that her village was still intact.

“Yes, I went to offer him a deal. If he gave up this year sacrifice, then I’d be his challenge buddy for the next decade. No questions asked, every time he wanted. Turns out he has been challenging me to play various sports every day. I hope the novelty passes after a few months, but I’ll still have to accept his challenges for the next ten years,” he grimaced.

“He… gave up the sacrifice?”

“Well, not exactly. Since you were supposed to be the last one, I could only buy you a chance. He’ll challenge you to a match. If you win, he’ll revoke the sacrifice policy off your village. If not… well, you’ll be his challenge buddy, like the rest. And your village would have to send another every year, like before.”

“Wait. The rest?”

“Yeah, every single one of the previous sacrifices are alive. They live in his domain now. They have to accept every challenge he asks of them, but they have good lives. With all the luxury a human blessed by the gods could expect.”

It was a little too much information for Marinette to handle. She needed a moment.

“So everyone is alive? All of them?”

“Every single one of them,” he smiled.

Marinette felt so relieved that she almost hugged him and thanked him, but she held herself back.

“You still lied to me.”

“You’re right. It was a stupid prank that got out of hand, but I did my best to make it harmless. I’m also giving you an opportunity that none of the others had: a chance of freedom. Would you… accept that as an apology?” He asked hopefully.

With all that he’d done to take the danger out of the situation… it was indeed a harmless prank from his point of view, she guessed. Except that she was tricked into marry the wrong guy.

“You still tricked me. To marry you.”

His smile, ever changing, was a little sad then.

“I tricked you into believing that we’re married,” he said.

He took her hand again. The one he held in their sleep and the one that had the binding bracelet painted on her skin.

“This is just a mark that shows you as a blessed-by-the-gods human. It’s not a marriage contract. I can easily remove it, if you want. I thought that perhaps it would give you at least a little of an advantage in the upcoming match, but… perhaps coming from me, the God of misfortune, you’ll want it removed.”

“So you’re saying that we’re not married?”

“No.”

“Oh,” for some reason, she felt a little empty.

“When were you going to tell me?”

He made a pause, uncomfortable.

“Ten years?” He tried.

“Adrien!” She reproached. It was the first time she said his name and a little magic mingled in the air, like every time you said a god’s name out loud in their presence. She realized that she had been sharing a home with one of the two most powerful gods that there were. And he was kind of a goofball. And sweet. For a god of destruction, of course.

“Sorry! I’m kidding. I was planning on telling you the very next day, when I made the arrangement with Kim. But when I came back… you were wearing the kimono I picked for you and you made the most delicious bread I have ever tasted, and… you smiled. You didn’t seem bothered by being here, with me. And… I guess I wanted to pretend for a little longer.”

There was a pause. Marinette realized he had mentioned Kim had a kingdom. Perhaps the other gods did too. Perhaps his land was empty because no one wanted to pray to the god of destruction and misfortune. Perhaps his castle was built with raw materials because everything broke in his presence. Perhaps “everything” included his relationships with everyone else too.

“I can challenge Kim whenever I want?” She asked after meditating it for a moment.

He nodded.

“Well, I’ll be challenging him tomorrow, then,” she declared firmly.

He sighed.

“I’ll take you there.”

“And,”

He looked up at her face. She averted her gaze.

“And if you’d have me… I’d like to come here. And pretend for a little longer. If you want.”

VII

Kim was nothing like she imagined him. He was goofy instead of mighty and gave the impression of not being too bright. Yet, just like Adrien, he had a youthful appearance and that aura that Marinette was learning to recognize as one that outlined the gods.

The real Kim’s Kwami was a little monkey that, much like his companion, was extravagant and playful, pure chaotic energy. He fluttered around him non-stop, apparently unable to stand still for more than a minute. When Adrien and Marinette entered the Chinese-style palace to meet their king, they found the owner and his Kwami immersed in a childish fight that included faces, grimaces and stuck out tongues, provoking each other like little kids.

They had been waiting for them on the palace throne room, but didn’t notice them when they arrived. Adrien cleared his throat to announce their presence and the pair turned in their direction, their attention effectively redirected.

“Hello, there. I see you were expecting us, so I’ll cut the formalities short. Kim, this is Marinette.”

"Ah, finally!” He exclaimed, not seeming to care much for said formalities and jumping from his throne to have a closer look at his guests. “I was starting to get bored of always challenging the same people. Tell me, girl, what are you good at? What challenges can you offer?”

"Not so fast," Marinette interrupted. Kim stopped and looked at her raising a brow. She bit her lip fearing that she overstepped by being rude, but Adrien squeezed her hand beside her and she continued. “I need confirmation first. Adrien says if I win, I can be free, do I have your word?”

Kim gave her a smirk.

“Of course” he promised. “If you win”.

He eyed her critically. Marinette knew that she didn’t look so much of an athlete. She was small and skinny, but he’d be disappointed if he thought she would abandon so easily.

“I’ll even let you pick the challenge, just so you see that I’m a just god,” he promised and promptly dropped to the ground to start a warm up. He looked eager to start.

Marinette tried to think of a sport she could have a chance with, a frown on her face. Adrien looked at her and squeezed her hand one more time. When she met his eyes with her own, he gave her an encouraging smile.

“You’ll be just fine. I have faith in you. You are amazing, Marinette. I’m sure you can win.”

She smiled back and nodded her head. Adrien and Plagg stepped aside and watched her form the lines.

“You’ll do good, Marinette,” said Tikki and kissed her cheek. “For luck.” Then, she flew to join the unlucky pair.

Marinette turned her attention once again to the god of rivalry and fire, trying to think of an option that would allow her to win. She thought that he might not get along with water, being the god of fire, and perhaps challenging him to a swimming competition would be a viable idea, but it was very obvious. Surely others would have previously challenged him to a swimming competition without success. As Adrien had told her, Kim always won in every competition he had suggested.

If only shōgi was a sport she might have suggested it. Looking at Kim, he looked more on the side of impulsiveness rather than on the analyzing side. She had a strong pair of arms due to all the kneading and lifting and carrying sacks of flour, but nothing as near as a god’s strength. She didn’t want to test his endurance either because Adrien once told her that he didn’t need much sleep, but it was nice and relaxing to lay on bed. He supposed Kim would be the same.

He was still doing a warm up when she lifted her eyes in his direction again. She tried to look at his body type to guess which kind of sports he had less experience with, when it hit her.

“I know which challenge I’d like to propose,” she declared.

“About time!” said Kim, jumping from the floor where he was doing squats. “Well, what is it?”

“Gymnastics” said Marinette, with no trace of doubt on her voice, despite her inner turmoil.

“Gymnastics?”

“Yes, especially flexibility.”

Kim was surprised. He had never been challenged for a gymnastics match, and despite that his Kwami was a monkey, he was only a monkey in name. He was good at climbing trees and swaying from one branch to another, but that was about it. Truth be told, he wasn’t very flexible. But how could this girl have known?

She must have seen the insecurity twinkle in his eye, because she smiled.

“Are you backing down from a duel? I have no problem by winning by default.”

“Never!” He responded immediately, like a petulant child. “I never back down from a dare!”

“Very well, then. Shall we start?”

Marinette challenged him to three different disciplines form gymnastics, and he lost all of them. First part of the challenge, he could not touch his head with his toes. For the second he couldn’t do a split and for the third, he could not even reach to grab his toes while sitting down. She won fair and square.

Plag and Tikki cheered. Adrien smiled at her and she returned the smile. After a moment, she ran to him to hug him. Despite everything, he returned to her the one thing she thought she had given up for ever, her freedom.

“Thank you”

He held her a little tighter before he had to let her go.

VIII

Marinette didn’t really go back to her village. Spirited away people were not always well received among mortals. She visited her parents in secret though. And Kagami. She told her about her adventure and how she didn’t regret it.

She also made good friends with the goddess of curiosity and investigation, who’s name was Alya. One afternoon, she told her that no youkai dared to venture the mountain during the festival of the gods. They stayed in the festival but did not wander around to interact with humans. They had no interest in them since, unlike the gods, youkai interacted with humans all the time, even if people didn’t notice.

“But then, who did I…?”

“Probably the goddess of lies. She likes to disguise herself as a youkai, especially kitsunes. Which sucks because kitsunes are the kind of youkai I reign above”.

Marinette visited her frequently, but for the most part stayed with Adrien. She thought about going to another human village or city, where no one knew her, but every time she returned to the European style castle, Adrien’s eyes lit up like a million fireflies, and her heart felt warm when he said her name. So she returned. So she stayed.

“They sure make a lovely couple,” said Plagg, voice casual, to Tikki.

“They do,” she replied, a little dreamily.

“Too bad she’s a human who’ll die too soon.”

The little red Kwami made a pause. She looked over to Plagg and saw him eating cheese without looking at her, making a show of not caring about what he was saying. She knew him too well to notice his intentions, though. He was the yang to her yin, after all.

“What? Why would you bring that up?”

“Well, she is. She’s a human. Human lives expire faster than cheese. But I think she would be a good goddess, given the chance, if you ask me.”

“I’m not.”

Plagg shrugged and kept eating cheese, but the silence was heavy with the weight of the idea implied.

“They just seem so… compatible, like you and me. The kid’s been happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

“Are you suggesting that I make Marinette the goddess of Creation?”

“Ugh, no. Wouldn’t that be awful? She’s been creating stuff since she put a foot in this place. Curtains, clothes, bread. What’s next? Furniture? As if the simplest creations of a human girl could endure the power of the mere presence of a god? Ha, no.”

Tikki knew exactly what Plagg was doing, and even if she didn’t entertain the lazy way he was using to try to get in her head, she took a moment to think. She remembered how spontaneously Marinette had created a tool to help her regain her earring, the very same piece of jewelry that helped the Kwami to give mortals the power of the gods.

If she gave Marinette the earrings… she would become a chosen one. A goddess.

“She does create a lot of things, doesn’t she?”

“I was just pointing out how well they fit” said Plagg. “It’s important that our charges do, if we don’t want things to get unnecessarily complicated. Again.”

Tikki sighed. She liked Marinette very much, and she could also read her heart as Kwamis could. She was a kind soul. She would be a compassionate goddess.

The silence stretched while she kept thinking about it. Plagg had long finished his cheese when he spoke again in a soft tone that he rarely used.

“You’ve been alone for so long…”

There had been a couple of centuries since her last goddess.

Tikki sighed, and looked in the direction where Marinette and Adrien were. They were laying on a blanket on the grass, laughing and watching the sunset. The air around them felt different. Electrified, complete. Like it usually felt when she and Plagg where near each other and in perfect harmony.

Plagg had a point. No matter how mischievous he could be, he was always serious when it came to matters of her, like her lack of a chosen one. He was always serious when it came to them.

“Let’s give them this night,” she finally said, when the sky was upon them with a million stars. “Tomorrow, I’ll ask her.”

Plagg, who was dozing beside her, smirked with his eyes closed.

“Ah, you are so easily influenced.”

“Don’t push it, stinky tabi.”

He chuckled and she smiled. She laid her head against his and closed her eyes. She knew it was a good match.

-.-

Just adding a little vocabulary in case not everyone is familiarized with traditional Japanese clothing and/or mythology:

Wataboshi: The all white hood called the wataboshi is the Shinto equivalent of the western bridal veil. The bride wears it before and during the ceremony and is a symbol of innocence and purity.

Youkai: A are a class of supernatural monsters, spirits, and demons in Japanese folklore.

Kitsune: In the literal sense is the Japanese word for 'fox', specifically in the red fox of East Asia. Foxes are a common subject of Japanese folklore; in English, kitsune refers to them in this context. Stories depict legendary foxes as intelligent beings and as possessing paranormal abilities that increase with their age and wisdom. According to Yōkai folklore, all foxes have the ability to shapeshift into human form.

Montsuki: All black formal kimono for men. Worn in ceremonies or parties. They are also used for the martial arts, theater and very popular among artists.

Shōgi: Also known as Japanese chess.

Tabi: Traditional Japanese sock.

-.-

Well, there it is. I’m sorry if you were expecting a multichapter series and I only offer a oneshot. Also, I write fluff and made it as less controversial as posible in order to keep it one chapter long. I’m sorry if you were expecting angst. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed! I wrote it with all my heart.

#MischiefGod!AU #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #adrinette #LadyNoir #plakki #cheesecake #naty writes

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irandrura · 4 years

Text

Third and final post: what were my other thoughts?

Let’s talk about the game’s mechanics first.

I am overall very pleased with the battle gameplay. On the battlefield itself the gameplay is more-or-less unchanged from the past, but the character advancement and customisation system is significantly improved. Moving to a single overall character level and giving every character the ability to change classes at will is a much more fluid and elegant system than in the past, and the ability to choose the specific combat arts and abilities each character takes looks like it adds a lot of depth. It’s probably appropriate for the overall ‘teacher’ theme of the game that you have much more power to mould each character’s skills and talents, but I’d like to see it in other games as well. There’s an important balance to strike: on the one hand, characters should not be infinitely malleable, and should all have their personal strengths and weaknesses. On the other, so much of the fun of the game is in developing characters and watching them grow that it’s really good to be able to specialise them.

Speaking of battle gameplay, divine pulse is great. The Fire Emblem series has always struggled a bit with accessibility, and while casual mode definitely made the series easier, it also felt to me like missing the point. Casual mode is too easy, and by removing any risk of permanent death, it felt like it removed a lot of the game’s tension. Divine pulse is a much better way to make the gameplay a bit easier and less frustrating while still keeping the same feel as classic FE gameplay. It gives you just enough room to survive a lucky enemy crit, or a small misjudgement on your part, without totally removing the need to be careful. I approve. That said, I did feel that by late-game you probably had access to too many pulses and it removed the need to conserve them. With a dozen pulses, there isn’t much risk any more, whereas if it stayed capped around three to five, each individual pulse might have felt more precious.

(Apparently Mila’s Turnwheel in Shadows of Valentia actually did the mechanic first, and I totally forgot about it. Oh dear…)

Other gameplay innovations were more hit-and-miss, for me. Battalions were fine, but I don’t think I would have missed them if they weren’t there. They helped make the battlefield seem busier and more populated, but they don’t seem to have had a massive impact on the game. Similarly, monsters were mostly fine (Cindered Shadows boss notwithstanding), but again, I don’t think I’d mind very much if they didn’t come back. They rarely actually felt like the most dangerous enemies on the battlefield, and just required a slightly different strategy, and… well, maybe it’s just me, but it feels weird for FE to have boss monsters like that. I suppose arguably it’s been a tension in the series going all the way back to the original game? Marth was supposed to fight monstrous dragons, but his entire game was about enemy soldiers, and dragons didn’t stand out as the terrifying beasts they ought to have been. Still, I’m not sure I’m sold on them here.

When I started playing I complained that exploring the monastery was tedious. You can get into a routine later on, but for the most part, I did think it could have been streamlined more. Having lunch with students or going for special training or browsing the marketplace are all fun things to do, but a bit less sprinting all over the map to talk to everyone and return lost items would have been appreciated. The lost item mechanic in particular feels like busywork. A bit of exploring is nice, but only as long as it doesn’t get tedious. It might have been lovely to explore other locations as well – Enbarr, Fhirdiad, the army camp outside Gronder, etc. – but I can understand that the amount of work required would not be practical.

Speaking of tedium, though… I really could have done with a few more maps. Maybe this is my fault for constantly choosing battles, but I found myself replaying the same forest, plains, beach, or volcano map too many times for comfort.

I might also have liked for crests to be a bit more mechanically impactful, given their important to the world and the plot. I regularly forgot which of my units have crests, and what any of the crests do, since most of them have so little effect as to not matter. The only one I did usually remember was Felix’s Crest of Fraldarius, and that was mainly because it makes him do more damage and sometimes made him kill people I’d hoped to leave on one or two HP. I don’t think crests should have been overpowering, but a little more power would still have been nice. It should not have been so easy to forget that they exist.

Similarly, by the time I finished the game I realised that I had never used a Hero’s Relic, even once. I would like to say that this was a principled decision on my part, given that they turn people into monsters (and it looks like I was right about them being made from bone?), but it was mostly just the BUT-WHAT-IF-I-NEED-IT-LATER effect. They all have quite low durability, and while I understand that infinite durability, as with relics in previous games, was not an option due to breaking how combat arts work, it was still enough to discourage me from using them. Perhaps on a higher difficulty they would become necessary? I always feel a bit sad when for mechanical reasons I never let characters use their most iconic weapons.

Moving on from mechanics…

There is technically a shipping mechanic, with an S support for the protagonist, but it really felt like an afterthought to me. I don’t think the game would lose anything significant if you just removed all the S supports. Compared to a game like Awakening or Fates, where the second generation makes it mechanically important and the plot seems like it works best with a bit of romantic drama (f!Robin/Chrom and m!Robin/Lucina looking particularly intended), Three Houses is surprisingly chaste. I suppose picking a character to be your waifu might be part of the culture now, perhaps looking also at the growing influence of waifu gacha games, but for me it felt tacked on. I can imagine potentially rewriting the game to make romance a more important theme – perhaps talking about Jeralt and Sitri a bit more? – but to be honest I think that that would have been worse for the game overall.

In particular, it stands out to me as sitting a touch oddly alongside the teacher concept. One of the things that stands out to me about Byleth as a protagonist is the way that Byleth is in a superior position relative to the other units. You are a professor, in a position of authority, and you have more life experience. Your job is to teach and mentor these younger characters. This contrasts strongly with Robin, who I think was presented as the equal of the other Shepherds (your relationship with Chrom is that of comrade and friend), and with Corrin, who was presented as an inferior or junior (your siblings are older than you, and they start off with higher status). Because of that superior position, then, I found the game suggesting a feeling of responsibility towards them, and a feeling of pride in their accomplishments.

This might be a bizarre comparison, but in some ways a game that Three Houses reminded me of while playing was Princess Maker 2, a weird little DOS game from 1993 about raising a girl. The core loop of choosing activities to raise the stats of a character in your care, punctuated with occasional outings to fight monsters and get loot, felt quite similar. Similarly, the emotions that seemed to be evoked, to me, were emotions of care and pride: perhaps not paternal as such, since Byleth isn’t that old, but certainly the satisfaction that comes from nurturing a younger and less experienced person.

For the most part that actually worked, and I certainly applaud it for feeling less icky than Fates. If I compare tea parties to that weird Fates mechanic where you could invite characters to your room and touch their face, it is vastly less creepy. So I’m glad that the romance has been toned down.

And speaking of things that I’m glad aren’t prominent…

I’m deliberately burying this part in the middle of a long post. Tumblr is famously ruthless on issues like this, but fortunately I have a very low follower count and you’re all nice people. Basically, one of my worries going into the game was that Three Houses might be the ‘woke’ Fire Emblem game. I am glad to find that concern averted, at least so far. A person could perhaps make some pretty cringeworthy interpretations of Duscur to do with racial politics, but the game itself does not push you in that direction. Tumblr and AO3 love slash shipping, but as far as I can tell that remains as canonically unsupported as ever. Interestingly, while Three Houses has a small handful of same-sex romantic S supports and endings, as far as I can tell they’re all for Byleth and they’re all simply copy-pastes of the opposite-sex versions. It’s enough for me to genuinely wonder whether they’re in the original Japanese at all, or if they were added. I know translations of FE games have played around with character sexualities before, so it’s possible. At any rate, part of me was concerned that this might be the Dragon Age: Inquisition of Fire Emblem, and fortunately it isn’t. (I mean, I did actually enjoy Dragon Age: Inquisition, but at times it did get to be a bit much.) I’ll take this as a valuable lesson when it comes to not believing posts I see on Tumblr. You’d think I would have learned from previous games: popular fan interpretations of a character are often completely wrong. Three Houses seems for the most part to be a very traditional Fire Emblem game.

In terms of the overall series trajectory, I take Three Houses to be an overall positive sign. Awakening and Fates seemed to be taking the series in a direction that I didn’t care for as much, with heavy use of player avatar characters, much more fan service, and more trope-driven plots. Three Houses seems like a return to deeper worldbuilding and characterisation. The cast of characters overall has definitely been a high point: in Fates I sometimes struggled to build a team of characters that I felt truly fond of, but in Three Houses there were usually more characters I wanted to use than I had space for, and there were no recruitable characters that I truly disliked.

Really, the biggest disconnect between me and Three Houses, in the end, is the fact that Three Houses is built for replayability, and I don’t like replaying games very much. However, I don’t think I can in good faith call that a flaw or poor design: obviously there are a lot of people who love replayability, and considering that I got a good eighty hours of gameplay out of my first playthrough (DLC included) and enjoyed it, I’m not really in a position to complain.

So in the end, then, I think that while Three Houses is not my favourite Fire Emblem and does have some places where it could be improved, for the most part I think it’s quite a good outing and a significant improvement on the last few. It is not designed entirely to my tastes, but what is here is mostly good. Three Houses leaves me feeling much more optimistic for the future of the franchise than Fates did.

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fanghuas · 5 years

Text

Tim always liked it when Dick was in town. He liked working with Nightwing, he liked training with him, he liked their post-patrol talks in the kitchen. He liked how Dick always seemed to have time for these things, how he always looked interested no matter what they were talking about.

Of course, Dick wasn't in town very often. And it was easy to be nice to someone when you only saw them once in a blue moon. Whenever Tim's mother was home - she and his father traveled together for the most part, but not always - she was always pleasant and happy to see him, taking him to museums and exhibitions and fancy coffee shops. But once his nanny had bailed, and his parents had been forced to take him on a trip with them, a whole month. He'd never felt more acutely how much of a burden he was on them. Dick had never had to be around him for a month.

"What're you thinking?" Dick asked now with a disarming smile, enough to put anyone at ease. Tim knew it was at least partially an act, but that didn't mean it didn't work.

They were sitting together at the den, in comfortable silence up until now. Dick was sprawled across the sofa, feet on the armrest and crossed at the ankles, reading a comic. Tim was curled up with his knees close to his chest, absently doodling new costume ideas. The suit he was using currently was one of Dick’s old ones, but Bruce had given him permission to come up with a design of his own.

It felt good. He couldn’t think of a better confirmation that he was Robin for real.

"Just about the upcoming science fair," he lied easily. "My science teacher thinks I should participate, but I don't know. I'm kinda busy."

Dick's smile slipped. "Robin stuff?"

"Yeah," Tim said with a shrug. "And I mean, I don't care about it that much? I have better things to be doing than making mini-volcanoes or potato solar systems, you know? Mom and dad might think it's cool if I won first place, but..."

He cut himself off and shrugged again. Dick was quiet for a long time.

"Well,let me know if you decide to go for it," he said cheerfully. "I'd love to come. And I'd offer my help, but you're probably better at this stuff than I am."

"Why?" Tim asked, baffled. "You know it's just gonna be a bunch of middle schoolers with projects made by their parents, right? It's not very interesting."

Dick shrugged. "If you're participating, it'll be interesting enough."

Oh. That was a very nice thing to say, but it made Tim want to cry a little. No one had ever been interested in something just because Tim was.

"I mean, I don't know," he said, "I'm not even sure I wanna do it, you know? And you don't have to drive all the way from Bludhaven just for that, so..."

"Oh, I don't mind the drive," Dick dismissed. "It's an hour tops. Totally worth it."

Tim wanted to insist, but his mind was already spinning with ideas for the project. He'd have to balance his time, obviously, he couldn't afford to look like he was slacking in his duties as Robin, but there was still plenty of time before the fair. If Dick really wanted to come, at least Tim ought to present something that would make it worth his while.

"Okay," Tim agreed.

True to his word, Dick was there. Tim watched him make his way through the crowd, eyes scanning the room. His face lit up as soon as he spotted Tim and he waved, changing course to come greet him. Tim waved back halfheartedly, glancing at his solar oven.

It had seemed like a good idea at first, but now that his project was out in the open for everyone to see, it felt woefully insufficient. He'd hand-painted it and made sure it looked good on top of being functional, experimented with different materials for the insides of the oven to find the one that'd heat up faster, double and triple tested the boiling time to be sure he wouldn't keep the judges waiting too long. It didn't feel like he'd done enough. Why had he even bothered participating in this again?

"I'm not late, am I?" Dick asked as he reached Tim, catching him off guard and momentarily trapping him in a one-armed hug. He pulled away and ruffled Tim's hair. "This looks amazing. Can I touch it or am I gonna break it?"

Tim squirmed. "Maybe wait until after the presentation."

“You got it,” Dick said.

By looking at Dick, you would have thought he was faced with a real scientific creation, not just some kid's school project. It made Tim equal parts wary – he wasn't at all sure what he'd made could live up to those expectations – and excited. If he did well in the competition, his parents might be pleased, but there was no question that they would ever take the time out of their busy lives to attend something like this. Neither would they gush over a cardboard cut-out solar oven.

It gave him the confidence boost he needed. Once it was his turn to show his work to the judges, he placed the little black pot filled with water he had next to him in the oven, walking them through the way it worked while they waited for it to boil. He'd timed his speech exactly so that he could take the pot out the minute he was finished talking, presenting it to the judges as proof that it'd worked.

To his immense relief, everything went off without a hitch. He got the timing down perfectly and he didn't trip over his words too much, neither did he stumble and shower one of the judges in boiling water, as had been a recurring fear of his. Throughout the whole thing, Dick watched with a wide, proud grin spread across his face.

Tim kind of felt like a fraud – he hadn't done anything that cool. He didn't even win first place. Other kids had better, more nuanced projects.

Dick insisted that they go for ice cream to celebrate, and like that wasn’t enough, that Tim tell him where his favorite ice cream shop was. Tim squirmed a little because it was halfway across Gotham, and it felt like he was just wasting more of Dick’s time, but nobody could resist Dick’s puppy eyes and relentless spirit for long.

They each got a huge ice cream in a cup with far too many toppings, and the lady behind the register slipped Tim an extra oreo. He was happy to have it but frowned a little. Surely twelve was far too old to be given free stuff on account of cuteness, although Dick did always tease him about how small he looked.

“Nice of you to treat your little brother,” she said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “All my sister ever does is hog the TV."

Wincing, Tim opened his mouth to correct her, but Dick just laughed it off.

“Well, I don’t live at home anymore, so that’s rarely a problem,” he said in good humor. “And he deserves the treat. His school was holding a science fair today, and -”

To Tim’s growing horror, Dick proceeded to talk her ear off about Tim’s project, blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Luckily the shop was mostly empty and the girl didn’t seem to mind, but Tim was still mortified by the end of it.

“What was that for?” Tim demanded quietly as they finally turned to leave.

Dick put an arm over his shoulder and pulled him into a loose hug. “Hey, you did good. Don’t I get to brag about you?”

Tim shook his head, perplexed and embarrassed. “Think you might be overselling it a little?”

“Nope,” Dick declared, popping the ‘p’ with great authority. “I’m proud of you, and that’s that. I’m telling everyone we see today about it. Deal with it.”

“Dick, no,” Tim groaned.

“Everyone,” Dick insisted, and just to prove his point, waved cheerily at a man crossing the road. “Excuse me, sir, but did you know that -”

“Dick,” Tim hissed, grabbing his arm and dragging him away. Dick went willingly, laughing all the while. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you. That guy’s giving me the stink-eye now.”

Dick waved a hand as he tried to catch his breath. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just teasing you.”

Tim huffed. “You’re a real dick, Dick.”

“I know. But Tim,” his smile fell away, eyes earnest, “you know that I really am proud of you, right?”

Affirming it verbally felt like hubris of the worst kind, so Tim only nodded and, for once, allowed himself to believe it.

#dick grayson #tim drake #nightwing #robin #batman #batman and robin #batfamily #batfam #batbros #red robin #my writing

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zafaria · 4 years

Text

Mythopoeia

She told them her school.

They had said “That’s fine, we guess, but be careful what you do there.”

They had said “We really trusted you would be a thaumaturge. We’d have even been okay if you were a pyromancer, like your uncle; or maybe a diviner... you have creative energy.”

They had said “Is it too late to change?”

Was it too late to change?

Was there an expiry date on learning? No, maybe not. She’d stick with it though, the test was adamant to her, it almost seemed to threaten what would happen (or, worse, what wouldn’t) if she didn’t submit to being a conjurer.

A tricky thing.

It was all fine and well those first few years at the school. Kind of boring, actually. Cyrus was a very mean professor, and she was a meek and restless child. So, maybe her disposition wasn’t great for Myth. She was flighty and subdued, not grand, not like a legend. She did daydream a lot, in a lost, wistful way, but the haze of it all made her think maybe she would’ve been better off curled behind the desk in the back of the Storm classroom. At least, maybe, Balestrom wouldn’t yell at her for it. Maybe he wouldn’t even say anything.

She did like her preliminary classes in the Fire school. She liked the flame and the heat, but she was absolutely miserable at casting, at focusing her attention and getting things to stay and materialize with enough magnitude to be meaningful. She’d have switched over to Fire, but she dreaded the idea of starting all the way from the bottom of the ladder, years and years and years behind, trying to overcome what appeared to be just an innate lack of a knack for it.

So, in the Myth class, she found her spot. Not quite at the bottom of the ladder, but low enough on it. Good enough in ability to pass, bad enough in her behavior to warrant lots of public ridicule in front of her classmates. Cyrus seemed to think that by calling on students, bad students, in front of everyone, he had embarrassed them or taught them a lesson or something, but the reality was that none of the other students really cared. There was no bullying or rumors or harassment for being called on, just a glance of well-meaning but undesirable pity after class. They all got it. They had all been the kids sitting disengaged at the back of the classroom once.

Her parents would write her once every week or so.

“How are you doing?” “Fine.” Occasionally, she’d add in one episode of her trip to the Shopping District and what she bought.

“What are you learning now?” “I’ve been stuck in the Library for three days writing essays.”

“Have you made any friends yet?” “I have a lot of friends, but they are all in different schools so I don’t get to see them during the school days because our schedules are different.” Signed. Stuffed in an envelope. Wax dripped over the fold. Stamped. Sent.

Her signature took on a different look every time. The top loop of the “J” got larger and wider, more grand, the little loop at the bottom got finer, more dagger-thin. In a few days, the return letter would arrive.

“Be smart with your money. Do you have a part-time job where you’re earning?” and,

“Work hard.” and,

“Do you think you would like to switch schools so you can be with your friends?”.

She would sit on the letter and let it expire, waiting instead for her parents to send another one that reverted back to the usual questions.

And it went on, for a couple of years. And then, it changed. And then there was the noise, the loud rumbling from all around the City during one of the afternoons she had detention.

She wanted things to change so badly, and everyone was distracted, and she was just finally fed up with wasting her afternoons continuing to be forcefully immersed in a subject she couldn’t bring herself to care for. She ran down Unicorn Way towards the sound to see what was amuck; when the guards asked her to show her badge, like a pass, to show she wasn’t a novice and would be safe, dutiful, thoughtful, she palmed her sister’s old adept’s badge from her pocket. The guards looked at it quickly and waved her along, not noticing the mismatch of the Ice symbol on the badge and the yellows and blues of her robes.

So it spiralled from there. The dead were undead, and then they were dead again. Had she really done that? With Myth magic?

The cards and spells were so different in battle than the practice duels that Cyrus would take them to in the Arena and the few seconds of spellcasting she and her classmates would do in the classroom before Cyrus entered in the morning and told them all to hurry to their seats, sit straight, and prepare for lecture. They rarely got to attempt magic, and then they'd have practicals where their nerves got to them and the spells came out wonky.

But there, in the streets she had once only been able to try and stare down, it was all so real, so vibrant. The magic pulsated through her, like a second heartbeat.

She had that same kind of enamor with it all the way through the worlds. In Krokotopia, her magic never made her feel bad. In fact, it was the fire that made her feel bad; when she burned the Ahnic mummies. That left her feeling like her hands were always covered in soot, grimy, guilty. The soot stains on her soul never faded.

Then in Marleybone, there was just a hint of a shudder running around her bones, a shiver within the marrow, when she beheld the faces--or lack thereof--of the agony wraiths in Big Ben. Where had they come from? Did they miss those places, those tombs or graves or mausoleums? Were they even of Marleybone, or were they far from the grounds of their homes?

She didn’t try to think much of it when she went for the duel. She was too busy thinking of giants dislodging the bones with a club, long hollow femurs clattering to the wooden floor; an earthquake following and swallowing up the center of the clocktower. When she left, her lungs felt blackened from spending too long in the city breathing in the smog.

In Mooshu, it sank in the most. She would summon earthquakes in spirit realms and feel the little chunk of earth she was on rattle, the chasm opening up from nowhere. The friction between the worlds and shifting dirt underneath would normally propel the earthquakes, but in those disconnected little places, where the grounds were thin and hammered out flat like saucer-plates, she wondered where they stemmed from. The chasm and the shadows within it seemed to plunge deeper than the earth actually was.

The onis that stared into her seemed to be looking deeper than they actually were. Her mind sweltered. The whole of the place was confusing and demented. And she thought that maybe it rubbed off on her too. Everything felt out of reach.

Her parents wrote a letter.

“How are you?” “I am tired. I have been travelling a lot. I am doing an externship as a part of my schoolwork, for Headmaster Ambrose. It is very busy.”

“What are you studying?” “High-level Myth magic. I have learned some new spells, but they required that I go collect some things from different worlds, that’s why I’ve been visiting so many places.” She’d include one of her sketches she did of the yellow windows of Marleybone or the endless fields of Mooshu in the envelope. Her parents would’ve liked her to travel, as long as they knew it was purposeful and being done in structured way, a safe way.

“How are your friends?” She didn’t address the question, and instead sent her parents a pressed flower. Sealed. Stamped. Sent.

Then, before Dragonspyre, Cyrus pulled her aside after class. He said “Malistaire is my brother,” like she wouldn’t have maybe guessed from appearances. And then that he wanted to duel her, to see if she was competent enough to handle the war-ravaged world alone.

She desperately wanted to prove she had attained something, she had learned, she was good at this. She desperately wanted to come close in the duel, to be on the precipice of winning, but just barely lose, and to sob, put her head down, beg for help. She wanted to prove she could, and also that she couldn’t do it alone.

But the flow of battle, the rhythm of that second heartbeat in her dictated in a way all its own. It was powerful in that duel in a way it never had been. It was totally engulfing, pounding in her ears and vibrating against the veins in her wrists, and she won and she had to. If she didn’t, maybe her skin would crawl and split from the overbeat of the magic that was left unfulfilled.

Oh, and that feeling rose up once more when she faced Malistaire, when she could smell a metallic and humble aura of death and lava all across the top of the volcano in Dragonspyre. The same feeling, rushing over her, her hands floating in the air like she was only watching the spectacle and not acting in it, like her hands weren’t even hers. She was acutely aware of all she was doing, how fast her mind was moving, though. Her actions were all her own. At least, she thought, these few things I own wholly, no matter what, and they were not left to fate, nor the headmaster or the Book of Secrets, or ancient warring tribes, or an old tree’s prophecy, or her professor or her parents.

She wondered if she became overzealous at the thought. If it made her too fierce. Cyrus sat back somewhere, afraid to intervene, maybe knowing he couldn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to have his brother meet an unfortunate end at his hands, so he made his student do it for him.

Or maybe she wanted to show Cyrus her unflinching worth, and that training and practicing across the worlds and in the streets taught her something he never could, that he never thought would emerge in her: a dauntless courage to face cruelty, sometimes with cruelty in turn.

But, deep down, both knew that the most important factor of why Malistaire died, why he lost the duel and didn’t manage to stand to his feet again after, was because he was an incredibly ambitious man with a gravely weakened soul. His magic truly had split out of his skin, creating the aura that permeated around them, and infusing with the rituals to raise the Dragon Titan. And the human, non-magic parts of his soul were broken all across too. His wife was gone, truly gone. And his brother couldn’t face him, and he was beating on…a child. A hopeful, brave child who had the whole world in their eyes. And he just had nothing left in him at all.

Returning home after that was difficult for her. She walked out of the volcano and into a portal, with Cyrus’s hand pressed against her shoulder. He was guiding her toward the foggy vision of the Headmaster’s office, urging her forward but also holding her down to the ground. Under his palm, she wasn’t going to float away in a confused mire, and she also knew she couldn’t slink from under his palm into a ball on the ground and cry. She could only move forward. She knew he was telling her she had done well, she had done the right thing.

How was she going to explain to her parents that this is what her “externship” was about? That she wasn’t being a student, not at all; she was being a hero. And though a hero seemed much grander and fancier, it was very, very different from what she had prepared for. It was thoroughly taxing in the most unpredictable, inexplicable, extraordinary ways. There was no training for how to be a hero.

And after she was emotionally spent and wasted away in her room for a few days, she packed her things and went home.

“Sabbatical, dear.” That’s what Greyrose said to her. “When you’re old and wizened like me, you take one every so often to remember to slow down.”

“You need one,” said Balestrom. “Very badly, you do need one. You look tired.” She was tired, and confused, and no longer hungry when all her life she had loved food, and she felt dirty and greasy.

She turned in a letter to Cyrus, who just stared down his nose at her, then nodded. His mouth stayed pressed shut through the entire process. She almost cried. She could feel her teeth pressing into each other, and they were so tightened in her jaw they felt soft, like little marshmellows. She thought she could maybe tell that Cyrus’s jaw was also more levelled out, more squared, like he was also clenching his teeth.

She walked out very quickly.

She walked into her home very quickly. Her parents hugged her, her father gave her a kind of firm pat on the back that made her shake a little. Like he was welcoming someone he didn’t particularly like into his home. Maybe she overthought, but her mother’s laughter was all wrong too. It used to fill the room, like a joyous thing, but now it filled the room in a suffocating way.

“We laugh to show our teeth, to show they’re still there,” she remembered from the readings for one of her essays, where she spent her time in the library for a day.

They sat together at the dinner table, a plate of mashed potatoes with a loaf of bread and turkey casserole before each one of them. She picked at some of the things, then had her elbows on the table as she tore the bread into tiny pieces and began to chew them slowly, one-by-one, like a mouse.

“Are you okay, honey?” they asked. “Do you want to talk with us about something?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Oh. Okay. How are classes, by the way? Have you been doing well?”

“Yes. I actually, uh, I did some directed independent studies with Cyrus.”

“OH! Advancing so fast, are we? Are you the teacher’s pet, and that’s why you get to do higher-level work?”

“Uhm, kind of. I also just needed to do something different. For my learning. Sitting in the classroom all day wasn’t really working for me.”

“Oh, like a practical? You’ve been safe, haven’t you? Are you missing any classes?”

“No, I’m actually on a short break right now,” she said. The questions were sweltering.

“Listen, we received some post from Headmaster Ambrose, that you’d maybe have something you want to share with us? Maybe about the kinds of schoolwork you’ve been doing? That you’d have something to tell us?” The curtain was up. She stared blankly, with her mouth open, blinking a little.

“Well, yeah, I... uh, Ambrose had a special assignment for me, I guess. There was...Listen, it sounds mad, but you must’ve felt it, the disruptions, and all of the ash and stuff. Anyways, there was an unhinged necromancer trying to destroy the Spiral? So, Ambrose had me and a few other strong students help him out with getting rid of undead monsters on the streets.” Calling Malistaire “unhinged” felt wrong, like a spike was being driven across her mouth, through her cheeks. She added the bit about there being friends, thinking that maybe if other students had been a part of the picture, her parents would find it less dangerous.

“So he had students acting like dogs for him,” they said, sitting back in their chairs. Her mother crossed her arms. She could barely look to them, unable to balance one disapproving face and the other. “And Cyrus approved of this all and had this count as your study versus the schoolwork you should’ve been doing on-campus?”

“It wasn’t as bad as it seems.”

“You’ve went all over the Spiral, you could’ve been killed. And we are aware about the changes recently, from that necromancer. And we’re also aware that he was a Professor at Ravenwood once, a Professor Drake. Cyrus is a Drake too, yes?”

They sounded like they were accusing her, but she wasn’t sure of what. It wasn’t like it was up to her that Cyrus and Malistaire were brothers.

“So your professor had you meddling in his family affairs. Ambrose and Professor Drake had you engaging in some blood feud with Drake’s old family. That isn’t appropriate for a student,” her mother said, like she was going to try and create a case against the school and Ambrose. “You know, we didn’t like the idea of you being a conjurer,” she continued.

They all got into a yelling match over the schools, whether she was a disappointment, if she was cut out to continue on there. They blamed conjurery, endlessly. Always. Always, it was the fault of the Myth school and Myth magic.

Out of one of their mouths came “you killed someone,” or perhaps it was “I killed someone,” from her own mouth, owning it. Whoever said it, it greatly upset everyone at the table. Her parents talked to her, level again, and said “you can’t go back.” They would consider getting her an apprenticeship in something like bookkeeping or art.

“You could’ve listened to us. This wouldn’t have all happened if you had just studied under Professor Greyrose, like Katarin.”

Sitting at the table, she now could look her father in the eyes as he said those words. She was frowning, and crying furiously, a silent crying, and untempered one that showed no weakness, but instead infinite and defiant strength.

She had learned some things in Cyrus’s classes. Not magic, nor imagination. She had been ridiculed in front of her peers, she had known that her professor saw her as low and untrying. She learned an unending patience, and the grace to know when the fight was over.

“That’s fine,” she barely murmured. “That’s fine.” A tear dripped off her chin with the movement of her jaw as she spoke. She grabbed her plate off the table with both hands and walked it over to the sink, scraping the contents off in one motion, then walking to her old room.

She spent the night there, passed out after dinner with the door locked in a stupor that reminded her of what her past few years should’ve been like. And then, in the morning, she packed everything she cared for from that room, swiping things off the dressers and desk and putting them into every corner of her backpack until it was nearly splitting its seams and lumpy all around.

And then she left, waving goodbye to the silent dark house behind her as she opened the door. She knew that her parents were people so different from her and that, despite their words, they had sent letters every week, cared about whether she was lonely or not, invited her back home often though she didn’t visit every time she possibly could’ve. They didn’t understand. They might never have understood. And because they didn’t understand, they seemed to want to wash their hands of her, their restless, second, failed child. At least for the immediate future.

So she would let them. They acted like she might be a student of some promise, like her studies and advancements were making them proud. They let her throw out their follow-up letters and pretended like they never existed. She would let them pretend like she didn’t either.

But she understood. She would find them later, if they wanted to be found by her. They didn’t think she was doing things that a mere student should have been resigned to. She was a conjurer, roped into an unfortunate, yes, feud. And she had done one thing that was horrible, and many things that were wrong, and she would never rid herself of those things. She resolved to do the only thing that she could’ve done, and pressed onwards as a hero.

#w #j

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fluffy-marshmallow-heart · 4 years

Text

20 Seconds of Courage -Part 21

The Elementalists au

Beckett x Oriana

words: 1768

Warnings: NSFW

Series Master List

Complete Master List

This is the final chapter of this series! Thank you so incredibly much if you've read this far! All your support means the world to me. <3

“Wake up beautiful.” Beckett whispered in Oriana’s ear, kissing behind it lightly. We have plans, remember?”

Oriana stirred. “Change of plans. We’re staying in bed all day.”

Beckett laughed lightly. “You’re the one who wanted to go scuba diving, not me. I’m only doing it for you. You’ve been hyping me up about it for months, so we’re going.”

“But it’s so early.” Oriana complained.

“It’s 9am. That’s not early by anyone’s standards, except maybe a teenager. Come on, we’re going. I’m dying to see you in all that gear.”

Oriana whacked him with a pillow. “Fine, fine, I’m getting up.”

Beckett grinned as Oriana slowly made her way out of the fluffy bed, her eyes immediately landing on their large ocean view window. “I’m never going to get tired of this place, Beck. I don’t know how you’re going to get me to leave in a few days.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, not saying a word. They were in a large villa on the Hawaii Big Island. They debated on which island to visit, and eventually settled on this one as it was the most diverse with twelve different climates. It’s a big island, so there was always something to see. They could go to a city, or into a jungle, even see an active volcano still spilling lava into the ocean. It was the most beautiful and serene place Beckett had ever visited, and here he was with the woman of his dreams. “Maybe we don’t have to leave. It’s not like we have anywhere else to be.”

It had been a crazy eight months for them. Both Michael and Jason were dead, and all of their schemes came out while the police sorted through their lives. There were other victims discovered, and cold cases closed. Beckett’s parents had reached out to him, but he only spoke to them briefly.

“They shut me out when I needed them, and I’ve accepted that. Katrina’s murder was solved. My ties with them are gone now.” He’d told Oriana. “I haven’t thought of them as my family in years.”

Oriana tried to reason with him, but he stood firm on the subject. Her adoptive parents were in shock over everything she’d been through, but they adored Beckett and that was enough for him.

As she stretched, she could feel Beckett’s eyes raking over her naked form. She smirked. “Don’t get any ideas, mister, we’re going scuba diving.”

“Maybe we have a few minutes to spare.” He murmured, quickly moving towards her and embracing her from behind. He already had his bathing suit on, but she was completely bare still. He kissed her shoulder, along her neck, and nibbled on her ear, cupping a breast with one hand while his other slid down her stomach, finding her sweet spot.

“Ohhhh.” She bucked into his touch, instantly becoming soaked. “Damn it, Beckett.”

“What” He whispered hoarsely. “It is wrong that I want to touch you? How can I resist your perfect body?”

She moaned, turning her head and capturing his lips in a searing kiss as he moved his fingers faster. “I don’t want you to resist.” She leaned her head back and rested it on his shoulder as he tweaked her nipple into a taught bud and sank two fingers inside of her tight hole, thrusting them in and out. Her breathing became more ragged and within minutes she was crying out as she came, not leaving his arms as she came down from her high. Beckett lightly slapped her ass.

“Now we’re really going to be late.”

“Your fault.” She mumbled as she finally tore herself away from him to use the bathroom and change into her swimsuit.

“Can’t help it!” He called after her with a smirk.

Soon enough they arrived at the beach where they took an hour-long fast course in scuba diving protocol and safety before being fitted with their oxygen tanks and masks. They both became certified before their trip, and Oriana was buzzing in excitement while Beckett looked out across the water nervously. Oriana slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

“Beck, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Really, it’s okay.”

“Ori, I said I’m never leaving you again, and that definitely includes times you decide to go scuba diving in a huge ocean where you could easily disappear. If you think I’m letting you do this alone, you’re crazy.”

“Oh really.” She laughed. “Well then. Our instructor is heading out, we should follow.”

Together they waded out into the crystal blue waters, along with two other couples and their guide. Sinking beneath the surface, Beckett had expected to feel overwhelmed and possibly a bit frightened, since the lake they became certified in was nothing compared to this, but instead he felt…free. Watching Oriana swim around admiring the colorful fish, he actually felt pretty great. The swimsuit he had on was designed specifically for him, with a secure pocket, which he patted about the millionth time.

Looking at another school of brightly colored fish, Oriana glanced over at Beckett, blushing that he was watching her. She loved him watching her. He’s been her rock, and she’s been his throughout their whole ordeal, and through each other they are healing. She still woke with nightmares often while they were home, and was seeing a psychologist for the PTSD she’s been experiencing since the day she was slipped a date rape drug. She also saw too many things the night she was kidnapped, and it affected her more than she’d anticipated. But Beckett supported her; made sure she was comfortable, and never pressed her to talk about it. For months he would ask her every day if she wanted to talk about it. Some days she would. Other days she wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t ask again until the following day. For awhile she thought it extremely annoying. In retrospect, it melted her that he cared so much. He had suffered so much loss himself, and she would do anything to make sure he never loses her.

She reaches out her hand and he swims over to join her. Even through his mask, she could feel the heat of his gaze. They never lose sight of their guide and the other couples while underwater. They could all venture on their own, and they did to an extent. Beckett led her a short distance to a pod of dolphins, feeling elated at the happiness written all over her. There were so many things hidden beneath the surface, just like him, just like her. She briefly let go of his hand to get a better look, and when she turned back he was holding something tightly between his fingers. She blinked. Surely that can’t be what it looks like. Remembering her training, she kept her breathing even, despite her heartrate exploding. She swam so she was directly in front of him, staring down at the large diamond ring he was holding before looking into his eyes and seeing the vulnerable question he was asking without using words. That might even be the reason she loves him most. He communicates so many different ways, through his actions, his gestures, his eyes, and his words. And she can decipher every single one.

A little shaky, she nodded and held out her left hand, letting him slip the ring on her finger, being extremely careful not to drop it. He already had it insured, just in case. For the briefest of moments, they both removed their mouth regulators and pressed their lips together in a kiss, before returning their regulators and breathing again. It was absolutely perfect.

Later that night, they were lying on a blanket on a sandy beach, gazing up at the stars above them. They’d celebrated their engagement all day long, but there was something else he wanted to ask her. He turned his head to look at her.

“Oriana?”

She turned to meet his eyes. “Yes?”

Beckett propped himself up on one arm. “I was thinking…you like it here, right?”

Oriana chuckled. “Tell me that’s a joke. I don’t like it, Beck, I freaking adore it. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed by the constant smile on my face.”

“Would you want to live here? Permanently?” He blurted out.

Her eyes widened and she sat up quickly. “What?”

“Look around, Ori. It’s paradise. The weather is perfect, and there’s so much to do. Everything is more laid back here. It’s sunny all the time in this area. But if you want snow, we can go to that too. If you want rain, there’s plenty there too. There’s active volcanos, there’s hiking trails, there’s scuba diving, snorkeling, sailing, surfing…we can do it all.”

Oriana had no idea what to say. “Well…”

“And it’s not like either one of us is working right now.”

“But I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of architectural jobs around here, Beck. What would we do?”

“Besides make love all day?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Besides making love all day.”

He smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Anything we want.” He murmured, leaning in and kissing her softly. “I know this has just been a vacation, Oriana, and people are usually happy while on vacation, but…you’ve brightened so much while we’ve been here. You haven’t had any nightmares in weeks. I love seeing you happy and smiling every day and not constantly looking over your shoulder. Just think about it. That’s all I ask.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re serious about this.”

“I am.”

Oriana swallowed hard, thinking back on their time together before speaking again. “Remember when we first met? And you tried to get me to stay overnight but I didn’t?”

“Of course.”

She nodded. “You said to me, ‘Twenty seconds got you here. I bet twenty seconds can get you to stay.’”

“But you didn’t…”

“I’ll stay.” She cut him off, not letting him finish his sentence. “Let’s do it. People dream of having this life. So let’s live it.”

He gasped quietly. He was not expecting her to remember all that. “Are you sure?”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re changing your mind already.” She groaned.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. “Definitely not.”

Their lips met in a passionate and fiery kiss, a silent promise being made between them. This was their new home. This was their new life, and they’re going to live it the way they want to. They both deserve happiness, and together, happiness is what they’ll have.

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ithilwen-lionheart · 5 years

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Love, lead me on - Legolas x Priestess!Reader/OC - Chapter 1 pt. 1/2

[ Notes: ]

- takes place during The Battle Of The Five Armies

- based on Hey Say JUMP's 'Ai yo boku wo, michibiite yuke'

[ Work Text: ]

A priestess should be one with her surroundings in order to be bound with even the tiniest sounds around her without the use of her senses- from the flutter of a butterfly's wings to the eruption of a volcano.

She is to hear every heart -beating or not- around her as well as the pleads for help and the cries of pain and anguish, tears of those who lost, and those of which who were forsaken. At the chance of being an audience to this, she is to act, for fate had not placed her in the situation she is in for a mere play at destiny's chessboard.

A priestess is there for more than a single reason: to lay gentle hands on the wounded, to aid the disabled, to protect the defenseless, to provide comfort and dreams to the haunted and to save as many souls as she could in behalf of the honor of both herself and the order that she represents by the crest that she wears.

-----

Amidst the roaring flames and clouds of smoke and sight of nothing but destruction, death and chaos, a tiny flicker of hope rises at the hearts of every single villager left alive and running in the floating city of Laketown.

Among them is a priestess, albeit a novice, of the Northern Order.

Dark hair as blue as the night, skin that glistens a milky white under both the sun and moon, and eyes that are the most fanciful shade of lilac. She is a wonder dressed in a dark brown garb over a short white dress and loose pants tucked underneath knee-length boots, darting around the docks hidden under a simple royal blue hood.

As much as she is still a trainee, she sees to it that she could be the best that she could ever be at every moment given and so here she is taking every villager she could into safety and out of the raging flames consuming the entirety of the village.

She is, like Lady Galadriel had said, here for a reason and even though some parts of the 'whyfor's' still isn't anywhere near clear for her at the moment, her heart had already found the most significant reason behind her rushing about just under the gargantuan dragon, Smaug: it was because a piece of her was here.

The piece of her that she so willingly gave to a person who never even asked much less needed it and doesn't even know he had it in the first place: Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, son of Elvenking, Thranduil.

All she had to do was pick up a thing or two about the elves from Mirkwood after miraculously gaining the King's approval through the Elf Lord Elrond, who seemed to have this uncanny fondness of her.

It started with tours around the villages and the castle; then lessons on their language and spells, books and healing; and then it got muddled up with archery and horseback riding because she was studying under Legolas after all and he seemed to develop a fascinating fixation on her Siberian Tiger, Luna- while herself -much to her dismay and disapproval- fell for the prince each day that had passed until she began to ardently wish she could learn shifting sometime soon within that mere month.

But that wasn't the problem, no.

"Celine? Celine!" A hand on her shoulder attempted to shake her back to reality.

This, this was the problem.

Although it took the girl a few moments to register the voice since she was still hearing the screams of a woman who just lost her beloved husband over the memories that smelled vividly of book pages, herbs and had the elf prince written all over it in shades of gold and late afternoon sunlight. She felt something clenching her heart at this and she doesn't know whether she's mourning for the woman's loss or her own.

The girl looks up and sees long ginger hair in braids and bright emerald eyes glistening with concern on the face of the beautiful elf warrior, "Tauriel..." she trails off and turns to look at the thick clouds of smoke that covers the light of the stars.

Tauriel furrows her brows a bit and lets go of the younger girl, "Are you alright?" She asks because there's something in the girl's eyes that goes beyond being a simple Old Soul and a novice priestess.

Celine just nods and shifts her attention to the elf approaching their group. The she-elf notes how the younger girl falters for a moment before schooling her features into that of her usually playful sheepishness around Legolas.

-----

*If I'm allowed to peep into your heart, I only want to make sure of one thing,

I wonder if I exist somewhere in the road leading to you...*

The blond prince approached both of them and it never escaped her how those icy blue eyes simply grazed over her before completely settling on Tauriel.

"Is everything alright, Tauriel?" He asked, his voice gentle and worried as he sheathed his sword and placed it back on its slot in his belt.

And it was just like as if it's just the two of them standing there on burnt planks over the debris-littered water. As if the captain of the guard didn't just leave him alone to chase after Azog during the preliminary ambush of the orcs back when Laketown still wasn't crumbling down in dragon flames, as she tended to the dwarf, Kili.

Tauriel nods, giving the girl beside her a glance that wasn't discreet enough for Legolas not to notice.

'But then again, it's not as if Legolas never noticed anything Tauriel does...' Celine ponders while trying her best not to sound bitter inside her own thoughts as she places that maybe she knows exactly why her chest feels all tight.

Then those piercing eyes were now on hers. He swipes an arrow from his back and aims at something behind her, then shoots.

It hits an orc straight in the face.

"You should know better than to space out at times like these, Celine." His tone was reprimanding but nevertheless, the concern was still in there.

And she adds it up to the reasons why she's still helplessly clinging to this hopeless attachment.

She settles on with a sigh, since mulling about it at present would just mess up with her performance.

Tossing the idea aside, she allowed her senses to fire up and quickly took a dagger from her waist to fling it on the beast that stood a few feet just behind the unsuspecting prince. Finding a remotely stable pole behind them, she ran for it and used it to propel herself forward to kick the thing square on the face for good measure- her body barely missing the prince's face and shoulder as she gracefully spun horizontally through the junction.

Hitting her mark, she then landed on both feet and made a dramatic flourish and a bow after seeing that she had both elve's attention: Tauriel had her face fixed with awe and a sense of profound pride and Legolas simply gawked, albeit effectively unapparent to those who haven't memorized his set of facial reactions.

Which sums up to everyone else who isn't Celine, "Same goes to you, Prince Legolas." She snickers and stood straight, the cape of her hood swishing behind her.

Legolas smirked, "I would not get too brazen now, dear priestess." And she pretends her heart didn't melt at the reply or the title, when he walked towards her and swung his sword at yet another orc behind her.

As much as they're both always at each other's throats and tempers, when it comes to times like these- when they're in the battlefield, running through blood and gore, it's almost as if a bonus instinct that they'd watch each other's back. Even if it's often Celine doing the job while Legolas is busy looking after his love, Tauriel.

Its not as if the novice priestess minds it anyways, she could do this forever so long as she could see his precious smiles safe and sound even if it's for someone else. 'Better see it than not at all, right?' She would all too often think during the times she'd begin to doubt the acceptability of the extents she'd be willing to take for the admiration she feels for the prince.

"If you could please bow, my dear prince?" She suddenly requests and it was so much of an overused 'there's some filth behind you that I am going to hit so please duck' that Legolas immediately complied with an equally mischievous smile as hers, knowing what it means by habit.

Celine swung her left arm back and with it brought water forth and turned them into icicles that she used to successfully impale the beast with, being extremely cautious so as to avoid hitting the exact person she was protecting.

By the moment Legolas had straightened back up to his full height, he shot him one of his grateful little smiles that -she grew to know- meant nothing more than appreciation, before his whole attention was back on some debris that nearly fell over Tauriel had he not pushed her away in time and would've hit both elves had Celine not whistled for Luna to tackle them both to the side.

Commanding the water to douse the flames threatening to begin spreading from their area, she throws them another one of her cheeky grins and places a hand just above her heart,

"At your service, my dearest Prince Legolas and Lady Tauriel."

The Great Tiger then gracefully strides back to her owner at her beckoning and affectionately rubs her huge furry head against the young novice's entire side, "you did great, Luna! Huh? What is it?" Celine's train of giggles was cut off by her familiar's observatory report. Her entire mien changing from the carefree one not too long ago to a deathly serious expression, "Bard? That's foolish! He wouldn't be able to take down Smaug using ordinary arrows. What? His son? Where is he? Oh dear goddess... Okay, take me there." The novice then swiftly climbs up as Luna crouched for her master to settle in.

Noticing the confused although hardened expressions on her companion's faces, she tried to smile even though it came out as a grimace, "If you could please fetch Bard's children from their home? The boy's not there, I'm going to find him." Celine offers as a cue that they should get back to their posts and save as many lives as they could.

And that was precisely when Tauriel made that face that spoke volumes of her concern through her features.

The younger girl could feel her heart break a little for Legolas but she still spoke nevertheless- the bit of information is necessary for all of them to function and know what they're doing and the people that concern them after all, "And yes, Tauriel, the dwarves are with them. Luna also notes that Kili had successfully recovered." The young priestess informs the she-elf who flushed in an embarrassed yet comfortable surprise, while Legolas rose a scrutizing brow with his eyes now fixed on hers.

This, of course, caused the priestess to reach behind and scratch her neck diffidently, a guilty upwards turn on her lips as she spoke, "And I may or may not have mixed in some very specific ingredients to hasten the healing process..." she then averts her gaze to the side and away from electrifying blues, fearing that her resolution to remain neutral would waver at the intensity of those eyes.

Before she knew it there was a hand that rested on her leg that wasn't Legolas' and Tauriel was looking up at her with great relief and gratitude, "Thank you." And those mere words and the thankful squeeze should not have given anything away aside from a profound sense of alleviation but there was a reason why novice's are sent to see the world before they could be considered priestesses.

It is to learn about every being in Middle-Earth, regardless of race and seeing nothing but the hearts underneath chests of either skin or fur, paying careful attention to the underlying emotions behind every breath, batter of eyelashes and those that swirl just around a creature's eyes before disappearing entirely and turning into something else.

And in those emerald green gems she saw love. A yearning so desperate yet aimless and confused just barely concealing the heart's desires with a thin sheen that's nearly transparent. Tauriel had fallen for the dwarf and she knew it ever since that night in Mirkwood's dungeons even though the she-elf was not consciously aware of it.

It was so apparent that it even began to concern Thranduil and Celine was there but she'll never say the words she had heard when the King had confronted his army's captain because it was a secret she'd be willing to bury with her heart once it finally dies from all the blows it had endured for and from the obliviousness of the prince.

"Legolas had grown very found of you."

"I assure you, he only looks at me as a captain and a guard. Nothing more."

"Perhaps once. But not anymore."

"Surely you would not let your son pledge himself to a lowly Silvan elf."

"Yes. You are right. But he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none."

"Shall we head off, Tauriel?" Lilac eyes were fixed on the blonde prince as he clasped a wary hand on Tauriel's shoulder, and she knows just how much he tries to push the inevitable aside.

Because she's doing the exact same thing.

Not trusting herself enough to meet his equally broken soul hidden underneath those pale blue eyes, Celine was quick to turn to the opposite direction heading to Bard's house without once turning back at the elves behind her.

"Appears not... we're on completely different roads and I exist nowhere in yours." A lone tear made its way down one flushed cheek and a brown gloved hand quickly went up to furiously rub it off. She then dons up a smile because it wouldn't help the villagers she'll come across if they'll see her like this, and pats the side of her lifetime companion, "Let's get going. Shall we, Luna?"

-----

*Within the fleeting dream, I wish this unexploited love to end,

Yet, I open my eyes to this red and flickering flame of love...*

Casualty had and will always be a given whenever dragons and war are involved.

No matter what a single or even a group of persons and races do, it could never be avoided and there would still be those who they failed to reach in time and those they never even knew of.

That would most likely explain the burnt and mangled bodies that were strewn across the shore from where they evacuated everyone else.

It was already in the middle of the night and everyone else was long asleep. Celine doesn't know why but out of all the people who had lost someone that's close to their hearts, she was the one who took everything the hardest. Sleep just couldn't find her and so she volunteered to keep the fires burning to keep the villagers from freezing since winter's already upon them.

Smaug's dead, Bard had successfully slain it and was reunited with his family, he was even given the title 'Dragon Slayer'; and the dwarves of Erebor, lead by Thorin Oakenshield, finally reclaimed their homeland.

Of course Kili left with them but it never stopped the dwarf from entertaining the frivolous idea of taking Tauriel with him and that split second of consideration in the she-elf's eyes didn't manage to get pass Celine's keen observation. The priestess then wondered that perhaps Legolas noticed it too because he quickly intervened and told his captain to take her leave of the dwarf who then in turn left a stone with engravings on it as a promise that he'll come back for her.

And that was when she saw the resolution on the prince's eyes deteriorate and through a chink, she was able to see the hurt and despairing vie as his entire figure slumped ever so slightly.

The bluenette visibly sighs now, white puffs of air slipping pass her open mouth. Everything just gets too ridiculously cold whenever Death walks by, and the fact that he leaves trails of emptiness and a path of irremediable loneliness only makes it worse.

A priestess, even those who are novices, could feel the presence of Death and is not exempted from it's dreadful aftertaste. She is consciously aware of the lives it took and the pleads of the souls who do not wish to depart from their loved ones and it tastes like bile stuck at the back of her throat.

The voices are there, yes. And it drags her down into the state of half-sleep, a void that is a mixture of both her conscious and unconscious thoughts. She succumbs to it, it's not as if her service is needed anytime soon and Legolas and Tauriel left earlier to ride north, so there's not really much left for her to do except to keep close watch of the bonfire.

Laying down, her back rested against patches of grass and dirt and she remained still, took a deep breath, watched the midnight skies clear for once to make way for starlight. It never failed to make her marvel at how surreal and distant the skies feel for mortals, like some unattainable dream forever for them to see but never to touch and everything goes back and all she could see was the elf prince the very instant she had closed her eyes.

It all come crashing down like some vivid recollection of the times she stood beside him. From the way he elegantly draws his arrows, aims with his long arms and shocking depths of intoxicating blue, and then shoots with deadly precision at whatever his target is; to the way he skillfully fights his enemies with practiced ease in using swords and daggers as well as quick wits; how he could be so much of an adept warrior yet a refined prince both at the same time; how he's so warm, so gentle and there's so much knowledge crammed into the little space in his eyes and even though his soul could be ages old, he'll remain eternally youthful and curious and the fact that his heart could be so achingly dedicated to both the wrong causes and the right ones in tragic equality, Celine finds, is the thought that hurts her the most.

Sometimes she couldn't keep herself from wishing that she never had these feelings in the first place. The fact that a critical part of her supposedly undivided attention as an aspiring priestess had been effortlessly snagged by one single person is trouble enough, but coupling it with the actuality that it is unrequited only makes it all the more unbearable for her. It partitions everything she does in two and as much as she doesn't want to shamelessly admit it, if there'll be some innocent human, elf, or dwarf hanging on the edge of a cliff with an incapacitated Legolas on the other and she could only save one of them she'd very much rush to the prince's aid without so much as a second thought.

"Argh," she groans in self-disappointment, "I should get my priorities set straight.. I am such a horrible disgrace to my house." she threw her hands up, still refusing to open her eyes.

"How could you say such a thing about yourself?" And that voice sounded so hauntingly beautiful and familiar that she wished she could just close her eyes forever and hear nothing but the sound of that voice saying her name in the tone it would use to address his beloved.

She tried to keep her eyes closed, feign sleep-talking or at least anything at all to keep her from seeing him as near her as the way his voice sounded because she doubts she'll be able to take this without breaking and like always, she fell a prisoner to his words as he leaned a bit closer and demanded that she appropriately face him whenever they're talking.

Lilac eyes fluttered open and all she could see was his face curtained by his silky long blonde locks on each side and she figures maybe he's the reason why the moon was missing that night.

Like some child in a trance, Celine slowly reaches upward with one hand to gingerly touch a few glistening strands in between her thumb and index fingers just to see if the Legolas crouching down beside her was real.

With the slightest curve on the side of one perfect mouth, the figure vanished into thin air, like silvery whisps of evergreen scented vapor. It didn't even take a second for the girl to realize that it was nothing more but a figure of her yearning that was immense enough for it to take concrete form through the unconscious use of her power.

Standing up with an emotionally spent expression strewn across her face for no one to see, she made her way towards the camp to replenish the fire threatening to die out.

The renewed pang her daydream left fueled the flickering embers in her heart even as it slowly turned into everything synonymous to despair as she stared at the crackling wood before her.

The illusion may have deserted her but the hole it left in her heart had stayed- and the apprentice thinks she'll harbor that for as long as her pitiful existence on earth would be.

-----

*I might not be the one who warms up your cold and numb hands, but

the one who can illuminate my future in this world is only you...*

The real Legolas is with Tauriel under the same stars she's seeing that night. It is relatively cold and Celine wonders if they're some place warm or are they sitting close enough to each other in front of an open fire outside.

It wouldn't matter if it gets cold. There are two of them afterall. Always had been and always will be. Because even though the elleth have some tendencies to go astray, the priestess knows that the prince would blindly follow her through the ends of the world.

And perhaps -Celine hopes- that the captain would at least return the favor by protecting him even if it'll be done out of mere courtesy. It would be hard for the priestess to intervene if they would be this far away from her and some time soon, she'll have to leave their sides and discover the rest of the world-

Alone. To further pursue her desire to be a legitimate priestess of great power to protect and help those who are in need the same way she'd dedicate herself to safeguard those whom she holds dear.

Tear-stained violets continued to stare on at the dancing flames as she curled up into a ball in a fetal sitting position. Allowing herself the luxury of weeping for all the wrong causes she'd be willing to take and the future she could never see without the prince in it.

Even so, she'll thrive for that future if she must, seeing as it is her only purpose for living. And the road she'd take towards that path would always be lit up by the purpose of being able to stand proudly beside the prince someday, even if it means that she'll have to stay as nothing more but a priestess in his service.

-----

*Even though I deliver this "I love you" to you one million times.

In the end, you won't give me a "YES", but

I will deliver this "I love you" to you one more million times again.

Oh love, please show me a way... *

They never went back that day. Or the day after that. Not even when the villagers of Laketown went on their journey towards the ruined city of Dale, not even after they have arrived.

The bluenette girl did her best to be of help to everyone. From tending to the wounded and handing out blankets and food rations to keeping watch at night and maintaining the flames, just to get her mind off of things.

She knows that even Bard himself had grown worried of her dedication to keeping the night watch but he never did directly voice his concern. He just asked her once if she's alright and suggested that he could give the task to someone else that night just so that she could have a well-deserved rest, to which she, of course, courteously declined.

The midnight chills are much better than the warmth of a blanket after all.

These past few days, sleep had been her enemy, everything that came close to it had conjured the same picturesque version of the prince. The one who'd openly smile for her and for her alone, the one she could actually tell her genuine feelings to without the fear of being looked down upon with distaste and being avoided altogether. She couldn't really recount how many times she told this prince how much she adores him and how many times he'd been so close to touch before her consciousness kicks back in and she realizes that everything was just the same tricks her mind was playing on her over and over again.

And so, over and over she fell and swore and spilled the same words to the same figure, hoping that it would at least make him realize how much she truly, desperately means it. Over and over she awakes to see herself in the same position: curled into a ball, tucked beside Luna in front of the blazing fire before her, her cheeks wet; over and over her thoughts would wander to Legolas and she'll say the same words again.

Some nights, she'll ride Luna at full speed and run up at hills to scream, at others she'll curl in with the tiger and just settle with a coveted whisper.

All those times, her words fell on deaf ears. All those nights, her voice shivered and cracked words of admiration and dedication for the prince. Over and over again.

Out of love, out of helpless passion that she knew would never be returned.

And she'll make the same decision because none of it was ever a mistake.

Nothing could be considered a mistake anymore, especially not a word said a million times before and again.

-----

*After giving me a smile with downcast eyes, you suddenly grew up

That was like a sharp knife split my chest apart...*

The desolation of Smaug was merely a part of something bigger. Compared to the bloody war that came next, the flames and corpses of human villagers was nothing compared to the aftermath that The Battle of The Five Armies had left.

Bloody, mangled remains of elves, dwarves, orcs, and humans had littered both the foot of Erebor and the repeatedly destroyed city of Dale along with discarded armors and deteriorated stone walls of once great cities.

No matter how you put it, there's no absolute victory even after the war had been won by the rallied forces of all races combined against the Gundabad orcs and the annihilation of Azog the Defiler and his right-hand, Borg.

Not even Celine -the young apprentice to Lady Galadriel- could feel remotely festive even if she was the key to every bit of success they had with this war.

She had stopped a very much unneeded war between the Sindarin Elves and the army of Thorin's cousin and had fought alongside the dwarves and elves as Durin's kin hid behind the walls of Erebor while the orcs attacked in astounding numbers. Standing firm with her usual garbs and nothing else but her courage and a sword and the skills she had learned from Legolas. Her great tiger, Luna, beside her.

Celine had fought and will fight, for everyone else's life if not for her prince's. That's why and how she manages to live, her own self-preservation completely going down in shambles every moment this unreciprocated charade of hers stretched on and she's not even remotely guilty to throw her life across the line far more times than she had kissed and will kiss the moon goodnight - and she aims to be a priestess of the moon someday.

[ To be continued in Chapter 1 pt. 2/2 ]

[ A/N: ] I wasn't aware of the word count limit here in Tumblr seeing as this is my first time putting one of my fics out here so here's the 1st part of the 1st chapter to an ongoing fanfiction book I'm writing over at Wattpad entitled 'Love lead me on'.

Am gonna try cross-posting some of my fanfics here so as to bring my blog some life so I hope y'all give them some love~!

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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640

Your name, please? Robyn. Are you heartbroken right now? No, my heart’s doing okay. If so, how long have you been heartbroken? Do you like the area you live in? I like that it’s a lot quieter than the metro, but we get everything we could also get in the city nonetheless. Right now it’s just a little unsettling since the Taal Volcano erupted and we have ashfall land all over our house, but otherwise where we live is pretty decent and uneventful for the most part. Do you ever get complimented on your eyes? What color are they? It’s not my strongest feature so no, not really. They’re dark brown/almost black.

What facial feature do you like the best on a person? Everyone has their different strong suits, so. Do you like to be called baby? Only by my parents and my girlfriend, because otherwise that would be creepy. What is your favorite flower? I like roses, sunflowers, and peonies. Idk, my answers to this question changes every time so it’s safe to say they’re only my favorites today. When did you last use the restroom? Five minutes ago. I went before starting this. How long is your hair? Pretty long. I haven’t had it cut since late in 2018; if I throw my head slightly back it already reaches my hips. I plan to keep it long until my graduation shoot, so I won’t be going to the salon for at least another month. Do you have braces? I used to. Do you have any freckles? Nope. What is your favorite Internet meme? There was a local meme going around last week and it involved people making hilarious puns out of celebrity names and pairing them with Photoshopped pictures of the celebrities to match the pun – for example, a local celeb named Rico Blanco was styled as Rico Blanket and a photo of him was shopped so that he’s in bed wrapped in a blanket :(((( OK IT DOESN’T SOUND FUNNY RN but all the entries were hilarioussssss I swear. Unfortunately everyone hopped on the meme train and it died in like a week. How many windows does your room have? Two big windows but each have four tiny window panes in them that can be opened. Do you have a rug in your room? What color is it? No. My dog likes peeing on rugs so we don’t like having them laying around. What is the weirdest animal you've ever held? I don’t think any animal is weird... but the coolest ones I’ve ever held are a snake, an eagle, a sea turtle, and a crocodile. The first three I got to meet in Bali, and the crocodile was from Palawan. Do you get extremely hyper when under the influence of sugar? No. I never really believed in that either. What about caffeine? I get pretty talkative, yes. I also talk like I have built-in exclamation points lol. Have you ever tried any drugs? If so, did you regret it? No, I haven’t. Do you have any pregnant friends? None of my friends are, but I can never be sure anymore when it comes to people I know. I always say no to this question, then sooner or later someone I know gives birth kfdgkdjfhd like a classmate from high school just had her third kid and no one even had any idea she was pregnant again. Guess I’ll just keep answering this question with a shrug. Have you seen anyone lately that you knew but didn't remember from where? Yeah, this was me for a few seconds when I arrived in my history class for our first day last Friday and I saw several people that I knew I know, but I had to recollect my thoughts. I eventually remembered who they were, but for a few seconds I was stumped. When was the last time you toilet papered or egged someones house? I’ve never done this, because you don’t do this in the Philippines. Do you usually dress up for Halloween? Some years I would. When ordering food, what do you usually get as a drink? I always get ala carte because I only drink water (I get full quicker if I have any other drink), and service water is always there. Put your favorite color and favorite animal. EX: Silver walrus Pink dog. When drawing something, do you try to be super precise or do you not care? I don’t care for drawing and am aware of just how bad I am at it, so I barely make any effort when I have to. When was the last time you snapped at someone? Sunday morning. My mom was playing a mobile game where the character will only be able to move if you scream, so she was screaming her ass off at 7 AM and I was worried it would wake the neighbors up. Does it bug you when people clap with their palms? HAHAHAHAHA like Nicole Kidman? Oh man. I’ve never actually seen someone clap the way she did in real life, so I don’t know if it would bug me. I know it’d send me laughing, though. Have you hugged anyone today? Just my dog. Classes have been suspended because of the Taal erupting, so I’m not seeing anyone else today. How many languages do you know how to say 'happy birthday' in? Filipino, English, Spanish, French, and Korean, so make that five. What language would you like to learn that you don't already know? Korean, just because I watch so many Korean shows as it is lmao. Are you able to take this language at your school? Yes, but it’s not required in my curriculum so I’ve never taken a Korean language elective. Have you ever been into a bar? Yes, I’ve always preferred bars to clubs so I’ve gone to a lot of them. What ethnicity are you? Broadly, Austronesian. But specifically, I’m Filipino, and even more specifically, Tagalog. How much makeup do you wear? None. I usually wear makeup only for special events, or if I absolutely had to, like for my graduation shoot. If you could fly, what kind of wings would you have? I’d like pink sparkly ones please hahahaha. Write some lyrics from the song stuck in your head right now. Nothing’s playing in my head at the moment. Do you like that song? Would you describe yourself as 'fiesty'? You mean feisty? I can bring out that side of me if I have to, but I’m not naturally it. How corny is High School Musical in your opinion? Pretty fucking corny. But I love the series and it’ll always be an important part of my childhood, so I’m never going to hate it. Have you actually read Twilight? Yes. I don’t know how I started getting into it though; I just remember it became insanely popular in the fourth grade and all of a sudden I wanted the Twilight boxed set for Christmas. What about Harry Potter? Yes, I read most of the books. My sister got into HP when she was aroundddd 10-11ish and my parents also got her a boxed set, so I borrowed each book after she finished them. Out of the two, which is better? Twilight.

Name a member of the Beatles! Ringo Starr. Who was the name of your first crush? My first real crush was Andi. How long ago was that? Eleven years ago. Do you still know that person? She migrated to New Zealand nine years ago, so we got disconnected for a long time and that’s when we got cut off. We’re Facebook friends now, but it’s never been the same. Happy for her, though. Can you handle your emotions very well? Usually I can, but when I’m at my breaking point then I’m at my breaking point. How often do you read books? Once every five years :(( JK uhhhhh I read loads, just not from books, and particularly not anything fictional. Are you the jealous type? I can be when there’s reason to, yep. Are you the type of person who gets jealous of people's pasts? No. And usually people regret their past, so I don’t feel jealous about that. Have you ever gotten an ear infection from riding an airplane? No. My ears were incredibly uncomfortable during my first plane ride though, and it didn’t help that I was already panicking long before the flight started. Anyway, my ears never fully ~popped and I was like 80% deaf for the entire plane ride. When was the last time you witnessed someone throw up? The last time someone threw up, it was me lol. But if we’re gonna be strict about the question, it wassssss last April I think. When was the last time YOU threw up? Sometime around May last year. Do you know anyone who faints at the sight of blood? ME. I’m anyone who faints at the sight of blood. Maybe not literally faint but I do feel super nauseous and weak and dizzy and I’d sometimes gag too. Hmm. I wonder how those girls have their period. Yeah well it’s not a very fun 3-4 days for me, my dude. Don't you just love the Cottonelle puppy? I don’t know what that is. Can you do any 'magic' tricks? No. Do you know how to play Checkers? I used to as a kid, because we used to have lots of board games. But since it was the game we barely ever played, I eventually forgot the rules. What clubs are you in at school? I’m in one of the two journalism organizations, and I also joined the graduation committee this year so that I get to contribute something for our batch :) What do you fear most in this world? Either falling from a very high place or drowning. And injections. What do your siblings fear most in this world? I know my sister is afraid of big crowds, chaotic situations, and small spaces. I don’t know what my brother fears, nor do I really care. What was the last sentence you heard anyone say? I’m listening to a mukbang ASMR right now and the last thing the girl said was her basically describing what she’s about to eat. Is Taylor more of a boy's name or a girl's name? I know we’re not supposed to care about this anymore, but if I really had to think about this question I see it as a boy’s name. But I also see that it works on girls just as nicely, so. What about Dylan? Boy’s name. But it sounds so badass on girls, and I prefer it as a girl’s name. What colors are the eyes of your family members? Dark brown/black. Filipinos all look the same, dude. Are you related to anyone with red hair? No. Do you know anyone with super super green eyes? Other than celebrities, no. What color was your hair when you were little? It has always been black. What color is it now? ^ Were you a chubby baby? I was a pretty chubby young kid especially from the ages of 3-5, but I was an okay-sized baby/toddler. I’d be surprised if I was chubby considering my mom and dad are both slim. What is your favorite mythical creature? Not a fan of those. Do you know anyone with a mullet? No, I don’t think so. Put down a random word here. Watermelon. What is your favorite fruit? Avocado. Now what is your favorite flavor of lollipop? Chocolate. If you combine your 2 above answers and make a perfume would it smell good? Probably not. They’re so different. Do you always feel like you have to be the best? Yes. That’s why I always take it hard when I end up not being that. Are you looking forward to summer? Yes, because I’ll get to rest. No, because it will be my last summer until I die. Are you wearing socks right now or are you barefoot? I’m barefoot. Socks always feels like they’re there, and I don’t like that feeling. What's on your favorite necklace? I’m not regularly wearing any necklace these days. How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Around seven, which is okay for me. Which is better: gingerbread or butterscotch? Caramel or peanut butter? Nutella or chocolate? Do you own an iPad? We own a family iPad, but no one’s used it in a while. I was the one who used it last as a means to work and communicate, back when I broke my phone and didn’t have a new laptop yet in my first year of college. I honestly hope that iPad never dies on us, since there’s a load of great memories there. Do you watch Glee? No and as someone who hates song covers, I think I’m better off not watching it skksjfdhgfg. How hard is it for you to get out of bed in the morning? When that day would require me to do something I dread, like attend a class I hate, it will be a lot harder for me to get up. But generally I’m pretty okay, as long as I set my alarm 30 minutes to an hour before I actually have to get up so that I have enough time to properly wake up. How many books are in the current room you're in? I’m in the dining room so there are zero books around. Have you ever witnessed an aircraft break the sound barrier? No. I also never really knew what that means, but I know I’ve never seen that. Do you keep a sketchpad in your room? I don’t draw, so I never needed one. Is there anything you do right before you go to sleep? Put water on my dog’s bowl – he likes drinking before we doze off. What color is your favorite purse? I only use one and it’s pink. How much money is currently in your wallet? ₱2,000. Do you get an allowance? Yes. How many songs are on your iPod? Don’t use an iPod these days. Do you usually have sweet dreams or nightmares? My dreams are either weird or nightmares. I never get any sweet ones. How has the weather been lately? It’s a little gloomy and cloudy. I don’t know if it’s an effect of the volcano eruption nearby, or if the weather is just like this. When was the last earthquake you felt? It was either August or September.

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