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#it was much easier to lean into her powers than to sit in fear waiting for laudna to walk into the storm and be gone forever
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I still marvel at the fact that Imogen was even more afraid of sleeping after Laudna died, on the off chance she'd see her walking into the storm. The same storm that she was so scared of that she thought she'd die if it ever caught up to her. The thought of Laudna disappearing into the storm was more terrifying than the storm itself, and I think it makes perfect sense why she would call on Ruidus to help free Laudna from Delilah's grasp. How could calling on the cursed moon possibly compare to the fear of losing Laudna for good? Imogen would do anything to get Laudna back, even if it means harming herself in the process. Even if it means pulling power from the very entity that plagues her dreams and gave her powers she never asked for. She would do anything to bring Laudna back, and she did.
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jatpfanfics · 2 days
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Echoes of the Heart (A Juke lovestory)
Summary: Luke Patterson, a rising star in the music scene, grapples with his feelings for his childhood best friend, Julie. Despite his fear of commitment, Luke's love for Julie is undeniable. However, when Julie shows interest in someone else, Luke must confront his feelings before it's too late. Will he risk it all for love, or will his fear drive them apart? Follow their journey of friendship, love, and music.
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Chapter 1 - The Night We (almost)Owned
22 January, 2020 
Luke leaned against the cold concrete wall, the thumping bass from the stage reverberating through his body and his chest still heaving from the encounter he just had. Even though he's outside he can feel the wall slightly thumping from the bass inside.
"Thank you sweetheart. You just blessed me with some good luck before my show." He says showing off his perfect pearly whites as he is getting ready to leave this scene.
The groupie, her eyes still glazed with desire, sidled up to him, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Leaving so soon, Luke?" she purred, trailing a finger down the front of his shirt.
Luke flashed her a charming grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, duty calls. Can't keep the fans waiting."
The groupie pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a playful pout. "But I thought we were having fun, Luke. Don't you want to stay and play a little longer?"
"I'm good sweetheart. This is kinda my thing, I don't do well on the whole commitment thing" He says shooting her a wink.
"Yeah, yeah, you always say that," she said smugly. "But then you also always come back around. That's some kind of commitment isn't it."
The sound of her smugness slightly annoyed him. He didn't like her thinking she had some sort of power over him. She could never. That was reserved for one person only. The one person that had Luke's heart in a chokehold. Luke felt a sharp pang in his chest thinking about the last time he saw her.
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20 January, 2020
The moon cast a soft glow through Julie's bedroom window as Luke slipped through the shadows, his heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and relief. He had been here countless times before, seeking refuge from the storm that raged within his own home. As he reached Julie's window, he tapped lightly on the glass, the sound barely audible over the distant hum of the city. Julie's face appeared in the window, her expression calm and understanding. She didn't even need to ask what he was doing here; it was routine for them. Without a word, she swung the window open, allowing Luke to slip into the room.
He didn't waste any time in crossing the room and collapsing onto Julie's bed, the weight of the world heavy on his shoulders. Julie followed, closing the window behind her before sitting down beside him. There was a familiarity in their movements, a silent understanding that had been forged through countless nights like this one.
"Rough night?" Julie asked softly, her voice a gentle reassurance in the darkness.
Luke nodded, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he struggled to put his feelings into words. "I just...I don't know what to do anymore, Jules. It's like no matter what I do, it's never good enough for them. They just don't understand why music means so much to me. It's the only thing I'm actually good at."
Luke gets up to make his way to Julie's dresser to retrieve his sleepwear. He opened the bottom drawer and rummaged around for a moment before finding his shorts neatly folded at the back. 
"You know, Luke, you don't have to keep pretending like everything's okay with your parents. It's okay to admit that you're struggling."
Luke paused mid-motion, his gaze meeting Julie's in the dim light of the room. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that made his heart ache, a tenderness that he couldn't help but be drawn to.
"I know, Jules," he said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But it's easier to just pretend like everything's fine, you know? It's easier than facing the truth." Julie nodded in understanding.
With practiced ease, Luke peeled off his shirt, revealing the smooth lines of his toned physique. Julie's eyes flicked over to him, her gaze lingering on his bare chest for just a moment longer than necessary. She quickly averted her eyes, cheeks flushing with a faint pink hue, even though she was definitely already familiar with the sight. This was routine for them, after all. 
Luke caught the subtle shift in her demeanor and couldn't help but smirk, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Like what you see, Jules?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
Julie's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink as she hastily returned her attention to her book, hoping to hide her embarrassment. "Shut up, Luke," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Luke chuckled softly as he pulled on his shorts, the fabric hanging loosely around his hips. "You know you love it," he teased, unable to resist the opportunity to tease her further. 
"And you know you love being the little spoon" Julie fires back while sticking her tongue out. 
Luke chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he settled onto the bed beside Julie. "You know it," he replied, flashing her a playful grin.
Julie rolled her eyes, but a fond smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Luke scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his embrace. "Come on, Jules, you know you love being the big spoon," he teased, nuzzling into her neck.
Julie laughed, her heart swelling with warmth at the familiar banter between them. "Only because you hog all the blankets," she retorted, leaning back into his embrace.
They settled onto the bed together, Julie's warmth enveloping him like a cocoon as they snuggled close, seeking solace in each other's presence. It was a familiar ritual, one they had shared countless times before.
They lay there together in comfortable silence, the soft rhythm of their breathing filling the room. In moments like these, surrounded by the warmth of each other's presence, they felt like nothing could touch them
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22 January, 2020 
As the memory of their intimate moment faded into the recesses of Luke's mind, he blinked back to the present. With a forced chuckle, Luke gently extricated himself from the groupie's grasp and headed toward the venue, leaving her behind with nothing but a lingering memory of their brief encounter.
"I'll see you around Patterson" Is all he heard before he entered the venue. He pushed open the door, the thumping bass sending a jolt of electricity through his veins. The stage was their sanctuary, their domain where they reigned supreme. The neon lights of the venue flickered and danced in the night as Luke made his way through the entrance. The familiar buzz of excitement pulsed through the air, mingling with the distant hum of the crowd inside.
As he made it backstage Reggie and Alex looked up from where they were tuning their instruments, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern. 
"Luke, where the hell have you been?"
Reggie's voice carried a hint of exasperation as he eyed his bandmate. Luke flashed them a winning grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 
"Oh, you know, just tying up some loose ends. Nothing to worry about." Alex raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his tone. 
"Tying up loose ends? Is that what you call it now?" 
Luke chuckled, his laughter ringing out in the dimly lit corridor. "Hey, a man's gotta have his goodluck charm, right?"
Reggie shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. Alex rolled his eyes "I hardly think your disgusting alley way hookup is gonna be the reason we kill this show."
Luke waved off their concerns with a dismissive gesture. "Relax, guys. I'm here, aren't I? And besides, I always deliver when it counts."
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As Luke stepped into the spotlight, the roar of the crowd washed over him like a tidal wave. With a smirk, he launched into the first chords, his fingers dancing across the strings with practiced ease.
This was where he belonged, in the heart of the chaos, where the music flowed like a river of fire. And as he sang, the lyrics pouring from his lips like molten gold, Luke felt alive in a way he never had before.
Luke shredded through the final chorus of their latest hit, the crowd erupting into cheers, their voices blending with the pounding rhythm of the drums. Sweat dripped from his brow as he grinned, adrenaline coursing through his veins like wildfire. This was the high he lived for-the raw energy of a live performance, the intoxicating rush of being on stage.
With a flourish, Luke tossed his guitar pick into the crowd, a gesture that sent the audience into a frenzy. He soaked in their adulation, reveling in the momentary fame that came with being the frontman of a rock band.
But as the lights dimmed and the band made their way off stage, Luke's thoughts turned to the real reason he was here-the music. It was his passion, his obsession, the one thing that consumed his every waking moment. Everything else-the parties, the girls, the fleeting fame-was just a distraction, a temporary fix to numb the ache in his soul.
As the band members made their way backstage, their adrenaline still coursing through their veins, they exchanged excited chatter and high-fives.
"That was insane!" Luke exclaimed, his eyes shining with exhilaration. " The energy in the room was off the chains tonight!"
Reggie grinned, his usual playful demeanor in full swing. "Yeah, especially when you whipped out that guitar solo, Luke! You had them eating out of the palm of your hand!"
Alex rolled his eyes, his sarcasm dripping like venom. "Oh yeah, because we all know how much Luke loves being the center of attention."
Luke chuckled, unfazed by Alex's barb. "Hey, someone's gotta be the face of the band, right?"
Alex shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, Patterson."
Beneath the banter, there was an unspoken bond that tied them together-a bond forged through countless late-night jam sessions and the shared dream of making it big. Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of gratitude for the bandmates who had become like family to him. They may not always see eye to eye, but when it came down to it, they had each other's backs no matter what.
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The boys gathered in the garage studio, the familiar scent of stale beer hanging heavy in the air. Reggie and Alex sat on the worn-out couch, their guitars resting against their knees, while Luke paced back and forth, his mind still buzzing from the adrenaline of the show.
"Man, that was crazy!" Reggie exclaimed, his eyes shining with excitement. "Did you see the way the crowd went wild when you threw them your pick?"
Luke flashed him a grin, his chest swelling with pride. "Yeah, they were eating it up, weren't they? It's like they couldn't get enough of us."
Alex nodded in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, it's like we're unstoppable or something. We're gonna be selling out stadiums before you know it."
However amidst the excitement of the successful show, there was a noticeable absence-the absence of Julie, who was usually a fixture at their gigs. Reggie and Alex exchanged a knowing glance, silently communicating their concern.
"Hey, where's Julie?" Alex asked, his voice laced with curiosity. "She's usually always here to support us. I don't think I've ever seen her miss a show."
Luke's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of unease crossing his features. "Oh, she had some stuff to take care of tonight. Nothing important."
Reggie raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his tone. "Really? 'Cause it seems kinda strange for her to miss out on a show like this. You sure everything's okay?"
Luke shrugged, attempting to brush off their concern. "Yeah, everything's fine. She's probably just busy with school or something. You know how it is."
But Reggie and Alex weren't convinced. They knew how close Luke and Julie were, how they were practically inseparable both on and off stage. Something didn't add up, and they weren't about to let it slide.
"Come on, Luke," Reggie pressed, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can't expect us to believe that. You and Julie are practically joined at the hip. What's really going on?"
Luke's jaw tensed, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "Look, it's none of your business, okay? Julie probably had her reasons for not being here tonight, and that's all you need to know."
Reggie shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "When are you gonna drop the act like you don't like each other anyways? It's obvious to everyone that there's something more going on between you two."
Luke's annoyance flared into anger, his fists clenched at his sides. "I said it's none of your damn business, Reggie. So just drop it, okay?"
But Reggie and Alex weren't about to let it go. They knew that where there was smoke, there was fire, and they were determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on between Luke and Julie, even if it meant prying it out of him one painful word at a time.
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20 January, 2020 
Luke and Julie lay tangled together on the bed. Their bodies molded perfectly against each other, fitting like pieces of a puzzle as they sought comfort in each other's arms.
Julie nestled her head against Luke's chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling of contentment that only came when she was wrapped up in his embrace.
Luke sighed contentedly, his arms wrapped protectively around Julie as he held her close. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
They lay there in silence, the only sound the soft rustle of their breathing as they basked in the warmth of each other's presence. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of happiness in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.
Julie hesitated for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on Luke's chest as she gathered her courage to speak. "Luke," she began, her voice soft but determined, "we need to talk."
Luke tensed at her words, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach as he braced himself for what was to come. He knew all too well what she wanted to discuss, but he wasn't sure he was ready to face it.
"About what?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he avoided her gaze, unable to meet her eyes.
Julie sighed, her expression tinged with frustration as she searched for the right words. "About us, Luke," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "About what's been going on between us."
Luke's heart clenched at her words, the fear and uncertainty rising like a tidal wave within him. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding the truth forever, but the thought of confronting his feelings for Julie filled him with a sense of overwhelming dread.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Jules," he muttered, his voice barely audible as he turned away from her, unable to face the truth that lingered between them.
Julie's eyes filled with tears as she reached out to him, her hand trembling as she brushed his cheek gently. "Luke, please," she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. "We can't keep pretending like this anymore. I know you feel it too." Luke's heart ached at her words, the weight of his own denial pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He wanted nothing more than to tell her the truth, to confess his love for her and lay bare his soul. 
Julie took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. "I... I love being here with you, Luke. I love being able to be there for you, to comfort you when things get tough. And I always will," she said softly, her words tinged with emotion.
Luke's heart swelled with affection for her, his fingers gently stroking her hair as he listened intently.
"But," Julie continued, her voice trembling slightly, "if you can't commit to me, if you can't give me what I need... I need to put some distance between us."
Luke's heart sank at her words, the weight of them settling heavily on his chest. He knew deep down that he had been hurting her, that his inability to commit had been taking its toll on their relationship.
"I-I understand, Julie," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I-I never meant to hurt you. I just... I don't know if I can give you what you need."
Julie's eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him, her heart breaking with each word he spoke. "I know, Luke," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their breathing. "And I-I don't blame you. But... but I can't keep doing this anymore. It's killing me to see you with someone else every week and then have you come back to me like this."
Luke's heart clenched at her words, the realization of what he had been putting her through hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had always known that he was hurting her, but hearing her say it out loud made it all too real.
"I'm so sorry, Julie," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he held her close, his arms aching with the need to protect her from the pain he had caused. "I-I don't know what to do."
Julie shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks as she buried her face in his chest, seeking solace in his embrace. "I don't either, Luke," she admitted, her voice muffled against his skin. "But... but I can't keep pretending like this anymore. I need to do what's best for me, even if it hurts."
Luke listened to Julie's words, his heart heavy with the weight of her pain. He knew he had pushed her away time and time again, too afraid to confront his own feelings and too blinded by his own fears to see the hurt he was causing her. And with that, they held each other in silence, their hearts heavy with the weight of their unspoken words. Even though neither of them said it, they both knew this would be the last time finding comfort in eachothers arms like this. 
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22 January, 2020 
Alex leaned forward, his expression serious as he met Luke's gaze. "We're just worried about you, man," he said quietly. "You've been acting kind of... off lately. And Julie's been MIA for the past couple of days. You two have a fight or something?"
Luke's jaw tensed, his fists clenching at his sides as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He knew he couldn't tell them the truth, couldn't admit that Julie had walked away from him because he couldn't give her what she needed.
"We just... had some stuff to work out," he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. "It's nothing you guys need to worry about."
Reggie raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Come on, Luke," he pressed, his tone gentle but insistent. "You know you can talk to us, right? We're your bandmates, but more than that, we're your brothers. We just want to help."
Luke's chest tightened at Reggie's words, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a lead weight. He knew he should tell them the truth, should confide in them about what had happened between him and Julie. But the fear of exposing his vulnerabilities, of admitting that he had failed her, held him back.
"I appreciate the concern, guys," he said finally, his voice strained with emotion. "But I think I just need some time to sort things out on my own."
Reggie and Alex exchanged a glance, their concern evident in their eyes. But they knew better than to push him further. They had always respected Luke's boundaries, had always been there for him when he needed them. And even though they couldn't fix whatever was going on between him and Julie, they could offer him their support, their friendship, and their unwavering loyalty.
As Luke turned away, his thoughts drifting back to the night he and Julie had shared that intimate moment, he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. It had been two nights since he had seen her, two nights since they had laid their hearts bare and faced the truth of their feelings. And in that time, she had been avoiding him, avoiding the pain of their relationship that would never be.
He had tried to reach out to her, had called and texted her countless times, but she had ignored his attempts at reconciliation, leaving him to wallow in his own guilt and self-pity. Luke's reasoning for being afraid of commitment stems from a deep-seated fear of losing Julie, the one constant in his tumultuous life. Despite his love for her, Luke has always struggled with maintaining romantic relationships, preferring the freedom and unpredictability of his rockstar lifestyle. For Luke, music is everything-it's his passion, his purpose, his escape from the chaos of his troubled home life.
Julie, however, occupies a unique space in Luke's heart. She's not just another girl he's infatuated with; she's his rock, his anchor, his best friend since childhood. They've weathered countless storms together, supporting each other through the darkest of times. From Julie's grief over losing her mother to Luke's own struggles with family turmoil, they've leaned on each other for strength and solace.
Luke can't imagine his life without Julie by his side. She's been there for him through thick and thin, offering unwavering loyalty and unconditional love. The thought of risking their friendship by pursuing a romantic relationship terrifies him, especially considering his track record of failed romances. Despite his intense feelings for Julie, Luke fears that committing to her romantically would only lead to heartbreak and disappointment. He's seen firsthand how relationships can crumble under the weight of expectation and responsibility, and he's not willing to risk losing Julie's friendship for a fleeting chance at love.
In Luke's eyes, Julie is worth more than any fleeting romance. She's his soulmate, his confidante, his everything. And while he longs to be with her in every sense of the word, he's paralyzed by the fear of ruining what they already have. So he continues to push her away, keeping her at arm's length to protect both their hearts from potential pain. However now, as he stood in the garage studio surrounded by his bandmates, he couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness creeping in, a sense of emptiness that threatened to consume him whole.
But he couldn't let them see his pain, couldn't let them see the cracks in his facade. So he plastered on a fake smile, pushed down his emotions, and buried himself in the familiar rhythms of their music, hoping that one day, he would find a way to mend the broken pieces of his heart and make things right with the girl he loved.
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Let me know If you liked it and if you would like a second chapter!
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samieree · 7 days
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Born in Flames || Game of Thrones
OC x ?😏
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-> Chapter XXXIII ''Dārilaros''
Chapter XXXIV ''A meeting''
The time has finally come to the meeting with her allies and present a plan of action. Everyone gathered in the room with the map, sitting on chairs at the table. Only Grey Worm and ser Arthur stood, close to the wall.
"You want the Iron Throne, so just take it." Yara spoke up. "We have an army, a fleet and dragons, if we attack King's Landing with everything we have, the city will fall the same day."
"And how many innocent people will die, especially if the dragons are set free?" Tyrion remarked.
"This is war. If you don't have the nerve for it, don't play it." Ellaria interjected.
"We're supposed to discuss the plan, not argue and insult each other." Visenya said, interrupting everyone. "Just because we declare war doesn't mean that thousands of ordinary people have to die, I won't allow that. And I don't intend to rule the kingdom of ashes."
"That's good." this time Olenna spoke up. "I don't remember a Queen who was more beloved than my granddaughter. She was loved by both commoners and the powerful. And what is left of her? Ashes. The common and the powerful are like children, really. They won't obey you unless they fear you."
This is their first meeting, and almost nothing has gone her way this far. It was easier when she dealt with the Lords in Essos, they were evil men, she had no problem intimidating them into doing what she wanted. Here the situation was more complicated, she had to unite people who had to support her in order to stay on the throne.
She felt she couldn't show weakness because if she did, it would be the end of her. They will tear her to pieces and there will be nothing left of her.
"They have to fear the consequences of their actions, not me." she replied calmly. "Also, almost half the fleet has sailed back to Meereen, so we're not at full strength yet." she noticed.
"You're going to wait..." Olenna paused for a moment, counting in her head how long it would be before the ships return. "Almost half a year? Until winter comes?"
"We have enough men to lay siege to the city if you don't want to attack directly." Yara came back to her idea of ​​attacking King's Landing right away, it was in her mind the fastest way to take the Iron Throne.
Vis sighed in her mind and leaned further into her chair. She turned her gaze to Tyrion and nodded. Enough of this verbal bickering, they will tell them their plan for now and then they will argue if necessary.
"It would be a great idea, if not for a few "buts"..."he started and got up from his chair to illustrate their plan, pointing to specific places on the map and moving the figures. "King's Landing is surrounded mostly by forests, which is a problem in itself, and we don't know where the Iron Fleet or Lannister forces are right now, other than the garrison in the city. We also cannot forget about some of the Lords whom Cersei converted to her side by talking about foreign armies brought to Westeros and referring to their memories of the Mad King."
This time, no one commented on a single word Tyrion said. Everyone was waiting for the rest of his statement, which filled Visenya with hope that they would all be able to come to an agreement. She didn't have much input into the current plan, she just pointed out a few things. She would like to be able to say something more, to know what needs to be considered when planning the next steps, battles, sieges, and movement of troops.
Mostly she stayed silent and listened to her friends, learning from what they said, but she didn't have the courage to admit to them that she didn't know something. She was the Queen after all, she was supposed to lead them. This fear remained in her, that if she showed weakness, her potential allies would abandon her.
"Cersei will not attack first, she will wait for our move as long as she can. If she was going to attack any place, it would be Highgarden." he moved the lion figurine to the Tyrell residence. "Food supplies and gold that she will desperately need. Therefore, the Reach troops will remain in the Reach. We will transport the supplies we need at this moment on ships that will also take soldiers from Dorne. Before that, we will provoke the Iron Fleet by sending a small force to Casterly Rock, to secure the transport as best as possible." he paused for a moment. The rest of the plan was much more general. "Then we'll take care of the army in the country, outside King's Landind, so that they won't be able to break the siege. By then we should be able to challenge the Iron Fleet as they attempt to deliver supplies to King's Landing."
"That is my plan." she finally got up from her seat, leaning on the table with her hands. "Do I have your support?"
She felt her heart speed up and her lips suddenly become mercilessly dry. This is the first important moment in the fast-approaching war. Either they support her or she will be left alone on the battlefield.
"You have mine." Yara spoke first, decisively, without any hesitation in her voice.
"Dorne is with you, Your Grace." Elaria spoke up right after her.
The tension was already starting to leave her shoulders, but there was one more person who had to accept this plan and she turned her gaze to her. Olenna Tyrell. She finally nodded too.
"Thank you for your trust, I won't let you down." she smiled at everyone.
"Can we talk privately for a moment, Your Grace?" Lady Tyrell's question surprised her, but she nodded and everyone else began to leave the chamber. When they were alone, she went to sit on the chair next to her.
"I think I know what you want to say... You want revenge on Cersei. I know that's why you all support my claim to the throne." she said, taking a seat. That was the only reason she could think of for this conversation and she could assure her that justice will be served. "I swear that those who hurt us will pay for it a hundredfold. And then there will finally be peace in Westeros.
"Peace?" she didn't answer whether that was what she wanted to talk about, but she obviously picked up on the topic and had her own opinion. She had heard of the Queen of Thorns before her escape and knew she was an intelligent woman. That's why she wanted to listen to everything he had to say and draw some lesson from it. "Do you think there was peace when your grandfather sat on the Iron Throne? Or his father? Or that it would be if your father ruled? There is never peace, my dear. People will always find a reason to fight."
She wanted to deny it, to say that it was possible to keep the peace and she would do it, but then she realized that she couldn't argue, that Olenna was right. People fight when they are dissatisfied, and you can't please everyone. Someone will want more and more wealth, others will want higher and higher titles. She had already experienced in Meereen that it was impossible to create a place without violence, but she wanted to continue living this utopian dream.
"I wanted to give you a piece of advice." she finally said what she had wanted from the beginning. "Will you take it from an old woman?"
"I will never despise advice that someone wants to give me for free." she smiled warmly and shifted in her chair, crossing her legs.
"Your Hand is a clever man. I've known many people like him in my life and I've outlived them all. Do you know why? I ignored them." this surprised Visenya, she didn't expect this type of advice. "Lords of Westeros are sheep. Are you a sheep?"
Her smile faded. For a moment she wanted to look down, because it was hard for her to stand Olenna's gaze, but she didn't, she forced herself to manage it. Is she a gentle, naive sheep? Often yes... But she wouldn't call the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms that, but maybe she just didn't know them as well as Olenna.
"No. You are the dragon." a delicate smile appeared on her face again as soon as she heard these words. "Be a dragon."
"I will be."
* * *
The boat reached the shores of Dragonstone, in almost the same place where, about a month earlier, Visenya Targaryen had taken her first step in Westeros in four years. Tyrion, Missandei and a small force of Dothraki stood on the shore in case any trouble occurred.
Robb Stark and Ser Davos Seaworth came ashore, accompanied by some of their men.
"Someone escaped death from under the scythe." Tyrion spoke first, using his 'unfailing humor'.
"Someone has done it more times than me." Robb replied.
The last time they saw each other was when Tyrion returned from the Wall and went to Winterfell to hand over the design of a saddle for Bran so he could ride. Their relationship was not very good, mainly due to the suspicion that Tyrion ordered Bran's murder. And now he is here on Dragonstone, wearing the pin of the Hand of the Queen.
How far can his talk take him?
Tyrion preferred not to speak to Ser Davos due to the fact that when they were fighting against each other, when Stannis was attacking the capital, Davos's son was killed because of his plan. Yes... It's better not to bring up these memories.
"Welcome to Dragonstone." Missandei greeted everyone before Tyrion could say anything else. "The Queen knows it's a long journey and she appreciates the efforts you've made to get here. If you don't mind handing over your weapons.
It wasn't a question of whether they minded or not, they had no other choice. Of course they won't let them enter the castle with weapons. Robb tried to be optimistic, after all, things weren't looking bad so far, they were still alive.
When everyone gave up their weapons, things got a little worse, because some of the Dothraki went to get the boat that they used to reach the shore from the ship, picked it up and started walking away with it. So we are prisoners here?
"Please, this way." she smiled and gestured with her head for them to follow her. They had to walk most of the beach and up all the stairs before they entered the castle.
As they followed her, Davos went over to ask her where she was from, while Robb remained silent and focused on her unusual outfit. It was rather typical for women to wear dresses, especially those of high birth. However, Missandei did not have a dress, only a cloak which shape imitated the cut of the dress. Additionally, two belts crossed on her chest, holding some kind of shoulder straps, one of them had a silver brooch, circle with three dragon heads attached to it. And, of course, trousers and high boots. I wonder if their queen wears the same kind of clothes... She was probably the one who started this 'trend'.
"This place has changed." ser Davos said to him after he had exchanged a few words with Missandei and they continued walking along the beach towards the castle.
"Inside probably even more so, you won't see the same sigils anymore." he replied.
"I hope I don't have to visit the prison again."
He rolled his eyes at this answer and said nothing more. They would have no reason to keep them prisoners, they would rather kill them. But they are still alive, that's the most important thing. Perhaps they will even be able to leave this island on their own.
The building itself made a great impression, mainly due to the figures of dragons crowning the towers or above the gate and at the entrances. A stronghold for the Dragon Queen indeed. Although climbing all those stairs when you spent the last many days on the ship and didn't have much opportunity to walk... A bit of a challenge.
"How's Sansa? I heard she's alive and well." Tyrion asked him when they were almost halfway up.
"She's fine." he replied rather dryly. He still had a bad taste for the Lannisters, even though - apparently - Tyrion was now fighting against his family.
"Does she miss me a lot?" yes... He had already forgotten that they married his little sister to Tyrion... He gave him a look that was enough of an answer. "A marriage of convenience, and unconsummated." You would try to do it differently... "Anyway... She's smarter than she lets on."
"Oh, she's changed..." he sighed. He regretted that he had not been able to protect her from all the horrors that had befallen her, but the most important thing was that she had survived. She changed... Like all of them, they grew up faster than they should have.
"Someday I want to hear how you survived my father's trap and then took Winterfell back from the Boltons with your siblings." Tyrion wanted to add, 'You Starks are hard to kill', but he thought that would be an exaggeration, even for him.
At first, Robb felt a huge need to punch him for reminding him of those very painful moments. The only thing that stopped him was that he needed the Queen's help and he couldn't start a conflict between them.
"When you tell me how it happened that the Lannister went from being a torturer to becoming the Hand of Visenya Targaryen?"
"I have never been a torturer." Tyrion defended himself. He had never done anything bad to this girl, and now he actually admired her for what she was able to achieve. He may like to tease, but he won't let himself be called that. "And my path to this 'top' was long and quite bloody. To be honest, I was drunk for most of it." there was silence for a moment as they climbed the stairs. "Tell me, why exactly did you accept the invitation? If I were advising you, I would strongly advise you not to come here."
"Apparently I don't learn from my mistakes. Or maybe-" He stopped abruptly when he heard an inhuman screech just behind them.
Both he and Davos fell to the ground, as a pitch-black dragon flew just above their heads. More flew right behind him, green, golden and white, shimmering blue in the sun. The four of them had been circling the island and now they were racing around the castle.
Only the two of them fell to the ground, the others seemed to be used to this sight and inhuman sounds that quickly chilled their blood. Tyrion walked over and offered his hand to help him up.
"I'd say you'd get used to them, but you never really do." he declared, smiling slightly under his breath. "Come, their mother is waiting for you."
Inside, Visenya was not yet sitting on the throne, but she was impatiently pacing the room and waiting. As Tyrion and Missandei went to greet her guest, only Ser Arthur and a pair of Unsullied were left with her to stand guard.
She kept thinking about how she should start the conversation and what she should say to get what she wanted. He agreed to come, so that was already half of a win, but now she had to convince him. With Dorne and the Reach it was easier, Varys took care of the most important conversations - even though she didn't ask him to... - and there was a different mentality in these parts of the country. They did not lose much strength in the war, they were burning for revenge, while the North suffered a lot and probably wanted peace above all.
She doesn't want soldiers from them, she just wants the Starks to also support her claim to the throne and acknowledge her authority, that's all. But if you consider what the Mad King did to Brandon and Richard Stark, what her father did to Lyanna Stark... But she is not them, she will not allow herself to be judged by the crimes of her ancestors.
"What do you think he's like?" she asked suddenly, finally moving away from the window. "Brave or stupid to accept my invitation?" she slowly walked up the stairs and finally sat down.
"People have heard of your achievements in Essos."
"And they also heard the rumors spread by Cersei. Apparently in some village they say I have a tail and horns."
"Quite a funny vision, who knows, maybe they would add to your charm?" she rolled her eyes. She knew that he was teasing her, trying to calm her down, so he must have noticed that she was stressed.
She would have said something back, but at that moment the door to the chamber began to open, so she straightened up in her seat and stared straight ahead. She should be used to it by now, but something made her unable not to get stressed. She kept her hands clasped in her lap and concentrated on not playing with them, not showing any nervousness.
"You stand in the presence of Visenya of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of Yunkai, Queen of Astapor, Queen of Meereen, the Unburnt, Breaker of the Chains." she was introduced with all her titles by Missandei, who was taking her place by the stairs to her left, Tyrion standing to her right.
Robb's first thought was that he had never heard of a person holding so many titles. Has anyone really ever called her all those titles? What does 'the Unburnt' even mean? Either she has actually achieved so much in the last four years, or she has a very large ego, or both.
"This is Robb Stark, King in the North." Ser Davos said, his voice echoing through the hall.
She didn't even listen to him much, she stared at the boy who immediately seemed familiar to her.
She had seen him before, seen those curls, even from this distance she could also tell that she had seen those blue eyes before. She dreamed of and danced with him. So maybe it belongs to him...
She realized that she had been silent for too long, that she should say something.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation, Your Grace." she emphasized these two words. "I hope the journey wasn't too hard." she decided to exchange pleasantries, as she first had to put thoughts of him aside before she could move on to politics.
"The winds were quite kind to us, thank you." he replied, having to focus on the here and now.
Of course, it didn't escape his notice that they had met before. She was the woman who had not left his thoughts for several days since the dream, she was the one who mounted the dragon and flew on its back. That silver hair and purple eyes are unmistakable, of course, a Targaryen.
"You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not like my enemies, I don't invite people under my roof and then kill them." she assured, even though nothing in his behavior indicated that he was afraid of her.
"A woman with an army, a fleet, and four dragons telling you not to be afraid of her is unheard of." she smiled slightly under her breath, even though he said it with noticeable irony in his voice, or maybe as a joke? She couldn't tell. "And you call yourself the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and I call myself the King of one of those kingdoms, doesn't that make us enemies, Your Grace?"
"Do you want to be my enemy?" she couldn't help but ask this question, even though she didn't expect any answer, so she quickly continued. "I don't want wars, violence should be the last resort, that's why I invited you here. We have a common enemy: Cersei Lannister. I propose that we become allies."
"On what basis?"
"The one you're thinking about. Support my claim to the crown, acknowledge my authority, and I will give us all our desired revenge."
Of course that's what she wants, that's why she invited him, just like he thought from the beginning... Perhaps if what was said about her - or rather what rumors Cersei was spreading - were at least partially true, he would not think long, just kneel and swear allegiance. But she didn't look like a monster, she didn't act like one. In fact, after what she really did, common people would say that she is an angel in human body.
It could have been just a cover, but it made him decide to fight for the independence of his kingdom.
"I can support your claim, but not to my kingdom." he said firmly. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, but we don't know each other. We know as much about ourselves as we have been told. You are invoking a right that you don't actually have because your dynasty was overthrown. All you can do is win throne back and then I will recognize your rights." he paused for a moment, watching her reaction. She didn't look angry. "Do you really want to rule lands you don't know? I've heard  many good and bad things about you, I don't know what to believe, you can't expect to come back after four years and everyone submitting to you."
She didn't expect it, but she also didn't think of her rights as something she didn't actually have. Who else would have a better claim to the throne? There is no one else left to inherit from Robert, kingdoms could not remain under the rule of the usurper Cersei. It's not just that this woman doesn't deserve the crown, but also that she doesn't know how to rule, doesn't care about the people under her, and only wants power and a good life. This is not what a ruler should want.
She didn't lose hope, on the contrary - she believed that she was able to convince him. For some reason, fate had allowed them to 'mee'" before under quite nice circumstances, certainly not to become enemies later.
"I don't want to just rule, I want to change." she replied more dispassionately than she wanted. She decided that she had to somehow shorten the distance between them, let him to known her, if they were to get along. At the same time, she would also like to get to know him better... She got up from her throne and began to slowly approach. "You've probably also heard a lot about the little girl that Tywin kept as his trophy, a memory of times gone by - that's a nice phrase I heard once. It would seem that many people should feel sorry for me: An orphan, my father died before I was born, and my mother was raped and killed by the Mountain shortly after, right after he killed my siblings." she paused for a moment to make her next words sound stronger. "Nobody was sorry. No one delivered justice. Robert actually demanded my head, the head of a several-day-old baby. He tried to kill me a few times, of course he did, he hated my father so much, he was so afraid that his blood would survive and become a threat to him one day."
She had to stop for a moment to don't let tears - that were coming to her eyes as the memories of her childhood flooded her - fall.
Robb didn't dare interrupt her. He knew her story as much as it was talked about. The maester once taught him about the last members of this house, Visenya, and Viserys and Daenerys, who managed to escape to Essos right after the war. Since Visenya was here alone, he guessed that the other two had not survived until now.
He never paid much attention to her history, he was a child, he preferred to duel with Theon, first with wooden and then with blunt swords, than to learn history. But now, hearing it straight from her... He sympathized. He could easily say that, he felt sorry for her. While he had fun running around Winterfell, when he could come to his parents at any time - even at night when he had a nightmare - and he had no worries, she never had that luxury. She was forever alone, with the specter of death hanging over her head. She lived under the roof of someone like Tywin Lannister, who - as he knew from experience - was ready to do anything to win.
If she wanted to make me feel sorry for her, she's already succeeded.
"I survived. I've lived seventeen years of something I wouldn't call life. I survived and finally managed to escape. I spent four years in completely foreign lands, and yet they were the best years of my life. You said you heard a lot of good things about me... Did you hear that I freed slaves from all over Slaver's Bay? The Breaker of Chains. No one ever did this, no one thought that they were people too and deserved a normal life. Soon, the concept of 'slavery' will become history. And they have will come back to it... The dragons. The world hadn't seen them for over a hundred years until my children were born. The Dothraki never followed any woman, they considered them too weak. They also never crossed any sea. And yet now they listen to me, they crossed the sea for me." she finished speaking as she stopped a step in front of him. "Many men have tried to kill me, but no one succeeded. If all that has happened to me isn't a sign that I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, I don't know what else it could be. If not fate, how else to explain it?"
"Maybe. But you will rule the frozen wasteland unless we defeat the real enemy."
In his answer, he did not refer to what she said about herself, he did not want to show that he admired her for what she did for those people from across the sea. He should finally address the issue that made him decide to come here and talk to her in the first place.
"My only enemy is Cersei Lannister."
"You are wrong, Your Grace." Davos interrupted. "Death is the enemy of us all."
"Very poetic." this time it was Tyrion who joined the discussion. She didn't see any hidden meaning behind Davos' words, but she started thinking about them in a different context...
"Let him talk." she said, giving her Hand a quick glance. "Continue..." she trailed off because she didn't know the man's name.
"Ser Davos Seaworth, thank you." he cleared his throat quietly. "I don't mean any poetry..." He looked at Tyrion for a moment. "...but a real threat. The undead army is on the other side of the Wall and they will attack us soon. An army that knows no fatigue and does not leave bodies on the battlefield. This is our enemy. If we don't deal with him... Does it really matter whose corpse sits on the Iron Throne?"
"If it doesn't matter, you might as well pledge your allegiance here and now. We all together will deal with Cersei, and then we'll go fight... Whatever you were talking about."
Honestly, she wished Tyrion wouldn't interfere right now. She didn't have anything better to say herself, and she tried to appreciate that Tyrion wanted to win another house's support for her, but she felt it didn't make sense today. They can argue all they want, but no one will trust a stranger enough to put the fate of their people in his hands.
"Enough." she said to him quietly. She hoped that would be enough to stop him from interfering with the bend-the-knee issue again. "We are strangers. I understand that you will not give your lands to me, and you should understand that I will not dedicate my army to your cause, to fight against some... Army of the undead?"
She wasn't entirely skeptical about Ser Davos' words, considering one of her dreams, but she couldn't blindly believe in them... She wasn't alone, she was dragging thousands of people along with her, she had to think about their safety, not just her own. Additionally, she has just begun the final preparations for the war against Cersei, the ships have already sailed, the fighting will begin soon. If she withdraws from the campaign as soon as it begins, what will her allies think of her? Without her in the south, Cersei will not be afraid to send an army to take over more and more lands and oppress more and more people.
"I know it sounds like some store made to scare naughty children." Robb spoke up. "But if it weren't for that, I wouldn't be here. My own sister advised me against it, and yet here I am. Maybe it's stupidity, maybe it's desperation, but coming here, I trusted you with my life, because - like you - I want to save people who have already suffered enough."
She was about to say something, she even knew what, but then they heard hurried footsteps coming from behind the corridor. It was Varys, he walked past their guests and went straight to Visenya, leaned down and whispered a few words:
"Your Grace, we need to talk urgently, it's very important."
She nodded gently and he moved away from her. She had to politely end this conversation somehow. Maybe it's even good, she will have time to think about how to approach it, now that she has the whole picture of the situation.
"Forgive me, you've come such a long way, you must be very tired. We will prepare you chambers, Missandei will show you. We'll have a bath run for you and bring you supper. If you need anything, speak to her." she forced a smile and was about to turn to Varys, but she noticed the distrustful face especially on Robb's face. Yeah... I should have understood trauma better. "I swear to my mother's memory that nothing will happen to you under my roof. You can walk around the entire island, after all, you are not my prisoners."
"You took our boat." he noticed, stopping her for a moment more.
"You'll get it back when we finish our meeting."
That was the last thing she said. She stood with her back to them and waited for them to leave so she could talk about this 'important matter'.
Robb and Davos had no other choice, so they left the chamber, and Missandei left with them. Of course he was afraid to stay in someone's home, especially since he didn't have any weapons. On the one hand, the memories of the Red Wedding came back to him as soon as he saw Visenya, but on the other hand, he felt an inexplicable peace in her presence.
She carried herself in a way that exuded confidence and strength, her outfit was in the same style as Missandei's, only more ornate. A silver chain ran across her chest, with a long piece of fabric with embroidered scales attached to it at the back. Even her hairstyle was unique, lots of braids tied up into a bun, with only a few strands left loose. When you looked at her, you truly saw a Queen, a strong personality, who knew what she wanted and how to get it.
However, after talking to her... To a large extent, it was all just appearances. She was not a cold-blooded murderer who would do anything to achieve her goal. Her difficult past certainly shaped most of her character. Therefore, he was prone to believe that she really wanted to change the world for the better.
They were practically the same age, and although life has verified many of their dreams, they still have ideals in them.
It was even good that they were interrupted. He will be able to prepare better for his next conversation with her, now that he knows how he should approach her.
Behind closed doors, however, the conversation finally began.
"We already know where the Iron Fleet is..." Varys began. It was clear from the beginning that he had bad news. "Two or three ships escaped, the rest sunk or captured. Ellaria Sand and Sand Snakes, who were to leave ships at Sunspear captured or dead, Yara and Theon Greyjoy captured or dead."
For a moment she didn't know what to do. This was only the beginning, and their plan was already starting to fall apart. Conducting a war so that as few people die as possible is much more difficult and complicated than throwing all your forces at once and breaking the enemy...
Nobody said it will be easy to be good.
"If they're alive, Euron will definitely sail with them to King's Landing... Is there any chance he's not there yet?" she asked finally.
Maybe she should sacrifice them, after all, they knew what they were signing up for. But what kind of Queen will she be if she so quickly gives up on the people who decided to fight for her?
"It is possible, but Your Grace-"
"So please, write to Euron." she interrupted Varys before he could dissuade her from this idea. "Write, that if he releases all those captured, I will meet with him."
He wanted to meet the Dragon Queen, so I will give him the opportunity, but not for free.
~
-> Chapter XXXV ''Advices'' -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist
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Can u make mc is the actual owner of Cerberus when he was a pup but villagers killed him because they thought that he was a monster and what how would the brothers and the undateable react to that when mc started to cry when she saw Cerberus headcanons
Oh Beans! I totally spaced when reading this and only have the brothers.
I'll post what I have here right now, but this will also be on AO3, so if you keep checking/subscribe there, you'll get a notification when I've added the undateables! It might not be for a while though, since I'm about to start school again ^-^;;
Who's a Good Boy?
The Guard Dog of the House of Hades. A vicious, three-headed hellhound that only the fallen Morningstar himself could command. Unfathomably massive. Devourer of demons, angels, and humans alike. Notoriously difficult to groom.
That is Cerberus, Lucifer’s extremely volatile pet named after a figure from Greek mythology for reasons no one truly understands. The creature has struck fear into the hearts of its housemates, and the Devildom at large, for what feels like ages.
So when MC cries upon seeing the wolf-dog for the first time, none of the brothers are especially surprised. How could a human cross such a monster’s path and live, after all?
Except those who weep in fear usually don’t then barrel full-tilt into one of the monster’s furry legs, babbling incoherently about how they thought they’d never see him again.
One of Cerberus’ heads leans down to the human, and the brothers panic, fearing the worst. It opens its mouth, revealing razor sharp fangs—
And licks MC’s entire body in a saliva-filled canine kiss. Now covered in tears and drool, MC laughs as they shake themself off, teasing the hellhound by saying that they already showered today, thank you very much.
“So, did you miss me as much as I missed you?” they ask, giving Cerberus’ central head some under the chin scritches (the only part of its head they can currently reach).
Cerberus boofs loudly, enormous tail waving back and forth at an increasingly hazardous pace.
Lucifer
What.
Lucifer is dealing with a Lot right now. He almost lost the exchange student to his own dog, except apparently Cerberus used to belong to MC?! How?!
He orders Cerberus to back away from the human, part of him still convinced that this is somehow a combination of MC being mistaken and Cerberus playing with its food, but the hellhound actually growls at him and picks MC up by the back of their shirt, tossing them onto its back.
MC, in response, finds new places to scritch.
He stares at the scene for a few minutes, unable to process what his life has become.
Later, once Cerberus finally agrees to let MC leave, they explain to him that Cerberus used to be a puppy in the human world.
Obviously, he was immediately noted as strange due to his three heads, and the people of MC’s village believed him to be an omen of death. MC themself didn’t care, and just saw “lil’ Cerb” as a puppy like any other, albeit an exceptionally drooly one.
He used to be more or less normal dog-sized, but it quickly became obvious that Cerberus was growing fast, and would be much larger than even a wolf by the time he was done. He also became harder and harder to hide.
Unfortunately, one night they awoke to poor Cerberus being chased out into the night by a mob, never to return.
They assumed the worst, mourned, and got on with their life as best as they could. But seeing Cerberus— they knew it was the same dog as soon as they saw him — brought all those emotions right back to the surface.
It’s not hard to adapt to these strange circumstances. Lucifer is actually quite relieved to have someone who is both willing and able to safely help him in caring for Cerberus, and both MC and the hellhound delight in each other’s company.
Lucifer also won’t deny the pride he feels upon seeing MC, the one he loves, getting along so well with his son dog.
Mammon
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
The P A N I C of seeing MC within bite-chomp-murder-kill distance of Cerberus nearly killed Mammon.
What the hell is he supposed to do against that furball?! MC’s dead meat, a chew toy, he can’t save them again—
WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY D O I N G ? !
Torn between passing out from fear and yelling about how brave and cool HIS human is!
So he kinda just… stands there, slack-jawed, as MC finds a spot on the creature that makes it thump its leg so hard the ground shakes.
Already he’s cooking up ways to use MC’s Cerberus-taming powers to get into all kinds of Shenanigans
Except he quickly learns that while Cerb is much more gentle with MC, it won’t let them distract it from its duties.
Has this resulted in MC semi-unwillingly riding Cerberus as it chases a terrified Mammon throughout the Devildom? Possibly~
Though when MC explains to Mammon how Cerberus used to be their dog, and what had happened to him… He can’t help but feel a touch more sympathetic to the hellhound.
Only a little bit though. It still does try and tear him apart whenever he gets too close, after all.
Leviathan
Levi’s fear metamorphoses into awe much faster than the others’. MC LOOKS SO COOL!! Riding the mighty Cerberus like a steed!
He desperately wishes he had the art skills to capture this iconic moment forever. But alas, a camera will have to do.
It’s a pretty good picture, the comparatively small human sitting on Cerberus’ back like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Levi even has a shot of them accidentally scritching a spot that makes Cerberus breathe fire (like a furry dragon!)
100% gets super emotional when MC tells him how they originally had— and lost— Cerberus as a puppy. It reminds him of his precious Henry 1.0 in some ways…
Begs MC to let him post the photos he took, along with their story as the caption. It’s just too good! It’s exactly like that arc in My Adventurer Boyfriend Keeps Adopting the Monsters He Beats in Combat and Now We’re Running Out of Space to Keep Them!
Like Mammon, Levi also quickly learns that just because he unlocked Cerberus’ tragic backstory, doesn’t mean that the hellhound will treat him any differently.
But sometimes, after a long “walk” with MC, the massive creature will be mostly asleep. And then, his hand shaking, MC will guide Levi to pet Cerberus’ flank. Its tail swishes softly, Levi’s own swaying in response.
Satan
He shakes his head and laughs, torn between relief, awe, shock, and lingering horror for MC’s safety. Of course they can tame even the ferocious Cerberus…
Guess all sorts of angry monsters like MC, huh?
He definitely wants to hear the story of MC owning Cerberus in the past, but first he’s going to drink in the absolutely dumbfounded expression on Lucifer’s face.
Toooootally doesn’t cry upon hearing MC’s story with Cerberus. No way, he’s still a cat person, he swears!
...No one is allowed to comment on Satan’s various burn injuries that occur over the next few weeks.
Not if they don’t want to be left with worse.
Asmodeus
OH SHIT!! Also, ewwwww
Once the fear for MC’s safety subsides, Asmo can appreciate the cuteness and hilarity that is MC with Cerberus. Truly no one is immune to their charms it seems, and their affections know no bounds.
...Is it that same quality that allows MC to continue to care for him and his brothers despite their past actions?
Asmo claims that the smoke from Cerberus’ fire breath is getting into his eyes, prompting him to leave. He has a good long stare-at-a-wall crisis for a bit.
Learning MC and Cerberus’ story only makes him mushier. Their tragedy got a happy ending after all!
As much as he loves MC’s charms, he still insists that they de-drool themself before touching him or any of his things. It stinks like brimstone!
Now if they need any help getting clean… That he can oblige~
Beelzebub
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH part 2
As one of the physically stronger brothers, when Lucifer’s not available it’s Beel’s job to groom Cerberus. He knows how dangerous that mutt is.
But apparently not for MC “Knows No Fear” over there!
As Cerberus continues to remain docile in MC’s presence, Beel starts to appreciate the cuteness of a human and their giant hellhound.
Unabashedly mushy upon hearing MC’s story about Cerberus. The themes of losing a loved one, only to find them much later in a new form… it kinda hits a little close to home for him.
(It’s not a perfect analogy: Beel knows MC isn’t Lilith, but having them as part of her legacy is undeniably cathartic. It’s why he doesn’t share these exact feelings with them, since he knows they’re uncomfortable with being compared to her excessively. Still, he can’t help but note the comparison.)
Naturally, he’s also very happy to have a very useful partner for grooming Cerberus. That living nightmare turns into an overgrown puppy whenever MC’s around. It’s much easier, and much safer, to work with this way.
Plus, it means he gets some quality time with MC! And there’s nothing quite like the fond smiles they share with him during these moments.
Belphegor
He has got to be dreaming. No way is this actually happening— nope, Mammon just stepped on his foot, and that hurt, he’s awake.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
Does MC not fear death? Is that it? Did that part of their brain just completely shut down when he killed them?!
Unlike the others, he can’t really shut down his panic. Sure, right now Cerberus is acting all cuddly, but that could change on a dime. That dog only listens to Lucifer, and right now all Lucifer is doing is staring gormlessly at it!!!
He nearly loses his hand trying to pull MC away from the creature (which it naturally did Not appreciate).
“Belphie, wait! It’s okay,” MC reassures him even as smoke blows out of Cerberus’ nostrils.
They explain their history with the hellhound, how they rescued it as a puppy and then lost it to the angry and frightened people of their village.
Belphegor can’t help but recall their expression when he told them about his imprisonment, the outrage there mingling with a much older emotion. Is that why they were so quick to help him?
He’s still wary of Cerberus. He refuses to be fooled by any facades the creature may be putting up.
But one day, MC invites him to one of their “playdates”. Cerberus watches him like a hawk, growling when he first approaches, but MC just shushes and soothes the monster until it allows him closer.
And maybe, after a few tense minutes, the pair begin to relax around each other.
And maybe, Lucifer has a picture of MC and Belphegor curled up in Cerberus’ fur as the three take a mid-afternoon nap.
And maybe, Belphegor lets him keep it.
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an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:
#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.
but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.
but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.
#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.
the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.
tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.
#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.
both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.
the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.
#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.
so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.
#5 : the splits
#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.
the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.
cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).
kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.
still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.
#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.
eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.
and then there were two.
kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.
kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.
#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.
right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.
somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.
tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.
#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?
it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.
maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.
besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.
he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.
maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.
#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.
kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.
so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).
understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.
kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.
i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to
also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood
tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy
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sokkascroptop · 3 years
Text
traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 26
part 1 | part 25
a/n: no matter how long you have been here, just know i'm extremely grateful for anyone who's read this fic. now here's the latest chapter.
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Sometimes it felt like the days dragged on. Each and every hour was laid out just like the day before–the week before. It made time seem endless, even though Y/N knew it definitely was not. Sozin’s Comet was getting closer and closer each day. Y/N didn’t know if it was the anticipation for that long fated day or if it was some buried fire bender gene in her body, warning her of something to come. She could feel it deep within her bones. She woke up earlier and earlier each day, no matter how late her night ended up. And each day the sun greeted her with warm yellow light that made the air a little easier to breathe.
As they moved further south and into Fire Nation territory, Zuko made mention of Ember Island as a place to hide out. The island–or chain of islands, really–were close enough to Caldera City that it would be a good place for them to lay low and wait, as well as uninhabited by enough people that they could lay low.
Y/N thought it was a little risky to be living in the Fire Lord’s Ember Island house, but Zuko was probably right, this was going to be the last place anyone would look for them. Maybe Y/N was just unsettled about being back, so close to Caldera City, or maybe it was being back on Ember Island for the first time since she was 9.
Somewhere between the temple and the beach house, Y/N tired of training. It just added to the monotony, and so she just…stopped. Instead, she spent her days on the beach, sometimes alone–often with the others though–playing in the tide pools and skim-boarding on the sand. And sometimes, if she felt like she didn’t have enough time on her own to recharge, she’d leave in the night, either through her window or the front door to take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. Only to come back and wake up a few hours later, ready for sunrise.
Today was no different, though the sun was already peeking over the horizon and into her room when her eyes peeled open.
The wooden floors creaked under Y/N’s feet as she crept out of her room silently.
Each board was smooth under her bare toes, not well-worn by many little feet running across them year after year but made that way before they were even built into the house, for no doubt a hefty fee. The beach house was… cold, to say the least. It just felt like each pore of the house seeped something uninviting, reminding them that they shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t just Y/N who felt it, they all spent as little time as possible in the house.
She padded into the kitchen and struck their flint to start a fire under the stove–mostly unneeded since Zuko had joined their group–but wholly necessary when he wasn’t around to be their fire-starter. Y/N didn’t mind doing it this way, it felt nice being able to do something with her own hands for once instead of relying on the others to make clean water or heat up the food. She boiled just enough water for one cup of tea before heading out to the courtyard where she knew at least two of her friends would be awake.
Y/N didn’t like feeling optimistic. It was a terrifying feeling. There was so much riding on their success; she didn’t want to spend so much energy on hoping only to have it all dashed away if things didn’t go their way. It would be too heartbreaking. But watching Aang, she could. They weren’t even sparring and she could see the power behind every blast of fire. And she had hope for their future. She had to; she wasn’t going to lose her friends.
“You’re doing that one wrong,” Y/N said from the shadows on the porch. She held her warm cup to her chest, the breeze blowing in from the ocean was keeping the courtyard chilly until the sun could rise high enough to heat the island.
Aang didn’t seem too surprised to hear her voice. “Doing what wrong?” He asked, confused.
Zuko frowned up at Y/N from his seat on the steps but nodded to Aang. “She’s right, you have to dip further down so when you come up the fire creates more of an arc.”
Aang pushed through a few more poses before Zuko stood up and joined him. Y/N stole his seat and pulled her legs up to cross them. She watched as they moved in tandem, working though the most basic of firebending forms all the way up to a few advanced ones. Memories flooded Y/N’s head so fast it made her dizzy. She remembered sitting just like she was now, watching her two brothers work through their forms when she was younger. On chilly mornings, much like today, she would wrap herself in a blanket nest and sip on tea that was much too sweet as they worked well into mid morning. In a sudden rush of affection she realized she was doing much of the same thing, just years and years later.
Aang had learned fast. That was good. She set down her empty cup as the two boys headed back to her, both sweaty from their training. “Good job, Aang! You’re doing great!”
Aang beamed with pride. “Thanks, Y/N!
“Don’t be so encouraging, he’s still got a lot to learn,” Zuko grumbled, taking a seat on the ground next to her.
Y/N pouted. “He needs encouragement. That’s how he learns.” Y/N learned that from watching the differences between Katara teaching styles and Toph’s teaching styles.
“Speaking of firebending,” Aang kicked his feet against the edge of the steps and looked around like he was avoiding something. “How did you know about the firebending forms?”
Zuko leaned back on his hands. “I’d like to know that too.”
Y/N smiled softly. “I watched my brothers for years, religiously learning all the forms and practicing them on my own. I wanted to be just like them. I guess I still remember them.”
Aang frowned. “It’s not like you couldn’t bend on purpose.”
Y/N was surprised to see Aang look so sad. “I know.” She shrugged and looked away feeling her cheeks redden with both boys staring at her. “I just wanted to be normal so people would stop paying attention to me for the wrong reasons.” She mumbled.
“It made you a better sword fighter,” Zuko said suddenly.
“What?” Y/N asked.
“The discipline and movements. You do the same when you’re fighting.”
“I’ve never noticed, but you’re right, Zuko!” Aang exclaimed.
The thought made Y/N smile. “That was nice of you.”
Zuko rolled his eyes but let the smallest hint of a smile grace his lips.
She looked back to Aang, who still looked a bit hesitant. “Don’t worry about me. How about we go swimming? Before the others wake up!”
Aang perked up immediately. “That sounds great! Let’s go, Zuko!”
Y/N and Aang stood, both looking down at Zuko, who just stared at the ground between his feet. She could already hear him saying no, telling them that he needed to train more or meditate and didn’t have time to run off and play games.
Y/N opened her mouth to tell Aang that the two of them could still go but Zuko spoke up before her. “Yeah, okay.”
Sometimes even on those long, dragging days, it was the little things that made everything better; like playing in the surf with two of your friends.
---
That evening though, Y/N was back where she had started the day, and had decided that everyone in her group of friends, save for maybe Zuko, talked way too much. She craved those moments alone where she just had her thoughts to occupy her. Especially when she had a lot on her mind.
Y/N didn’t want to admit she felt stuck inside with Aang and Katara while everyone else was outside enjoying the evening, but she also felt guilty in turning down their request to help make dinner to just wander around on the beach until sunset. She didn’t help out much with making meals, and she felt obligated to help when she could.
So she was there, sitting on the dinner table, lotus style with a knife and a cutting board and a basket of carrots in need of chopping at her side.
“What else can I do, Katara?” Aang dumped some of the vegetables he was cutting into the stew Katara was currently stirring over the stove.
“Hmm, can you go out and get some more water to make the rice?” Aang grinned and nodded, before running out of the house towards the side of the house where there was a small barrel of collected water.
Y/N smiled to herself at the interaction and continued cutting carrots for Katara, trying not to let her mind wander, but it was hard with the monotonous work and the bad spot she was sitting in.
Just in front of her was the window where she had watched Zuko and Aang train while she made tea that morning, now it showed Zuko and Sokka doing their own training.
Y/N was struggling with more than just feeling like she didn’t belong on the Island. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Sokka, or if she was even going to say anything about her feelings at all. Without the constant traveling and the safety of a hideout, she was able to just stop and let those feelings and thoughts she had been holding back with a dam of fear wash over her.
It was all really confusing for Y/N. And hard to admit.
She didn’t want to face the awkward conversation of asking whether he could always be there for her. She didn’t want to beg him to never leave because she was so insecure. She was so afraid of losing everything and everyone that she was going to do just that because she was afraid of opening up.
What would happen if she never told Sokka she loved him back? Did she even love him back? What did love feel like?
Love with Azula felt like fire, sometimes it burned painfully, but in the good times it filled her with a warmth like never before. Zuko’s friendship felt the same, but it was less like sitting too close to the fire and more like sitting just in the right place where it didn’t dry out your eyes but didn’t make goosebumps grow on your arms. Sokka always felt like a cool breeze, one where you lift your face up to the sky and smile because it always feels like relief. But that’s not what Y/N is used to. How does she know if it’s love if it doesn’t hurt a little bit? How does she know that it's real if she doesn’t have to give all of herself until she is worn to nothing to make it work?
It wasn’t that she was afraid to care for him, she had made it clear that she did. It was just easier on her heart to keep him at a distance for now until she figured they were inevitably part ways. That’s how Y/N saw this all ending. Separated across oceans, back to where they came from, whatever the outcome of the war. Y/N wanted to dream of the possibilities and opportunities where they could be together in the long run, but those were just that, dreams for another lifetime. People from the Water Tribe didn’t marry people from the Fire Nation.
Everything that she learned over the last few months was that nothing was ever set in stone, so why should she and Sokka be.
Y/N stared out the window, pondering when it would all fall apart and sliced downwards on a carrot, but met nothing but the cutting board. She looked down where the knife was closer to her finger than to the carrots. She let out a little inward gasp.
“What?” Katara turned around and asked.
Y/N’s eyes widened. “Nothing.” She motioned to the cutting board. “Do you want these smaller?”
Katara eyed Y/N and then looked to the cutting board. “They’re fine. But pay more attention, I don’t know how to reattach fingers yet.”
“Yeah, definitely.”
Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave the wooden cutting board and her fingers until the others came bustling into the kitchen, all talking at once.
Y/N for the most part ignored everyone, until Sokka reached over and snatched one of the slices of carrots.
Y/N nudged his arm. “Can you wait?! I thought you didn’t like vegetables!”
“Aang got me to like carrots!” Sokka retorted, before quickly reaching around Y/N to grab another and popping it into his mouth.
“Why would you be sitting on the table that we have to eat off of?” Suki wrinkled her nose.
“Uh! Katara said I could!” Y/N stuck her tongue out.
Katara whipped around, hands on her hips. “I never said you could, I just didn’t say you couldn’t.” Katara turned back to stirring the stew before muttering under her breath, “Not like telling you no would have made a difference anyways.”
“Hey!” Y/N picked up a carrot and launched it at the back of Katara’s head.
Aang walked back inside carrying a bucket of water, to a kitchen full of chaos. Vegetables were being thrown across the room at one another, as laughter rang out. Sokka, Zuko and Y/N were sprawled on one side of the kitchen behind and under the table; with Suki, Katara and Toph only edging from behind the safety of the kitchen doorway to throw something.
For the first time in a long time, Y/N could hear the exasperation of a 112 year old monk in Aang’s usually cheerful voice.“Uh, guys, what are we supposed to eat for dinner now?”
---
Y/N was dozing against the headboard of her bed that night, when she heard the knock at her door. At first she thought she imagined it, that is until she heard a voice on the other side of the doorway. “Y/N, are you awake?”
Y/N slid out of bed and cracked open the door. She smiled and leaned against the doorjamb, a familiar feeling in her chest.
“Are you afraid that there are ghosts here too?”
Sokka grinned and nodded. “In this house? Absolutely. But I’m not here for that.”
“Oh?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.
“Come outside with me.”
Y/N chuckled. “Why?”
“Please, just come on. No questions.”
Y/N sighed and reached for an old silk robe she found in one of the closets, but her smile never left her face.
To be fair to Sokka, there wasn’t much to surprise Y/N with on an island she grew up on. But that night, the sky momentarily took her breath away.
Sometimes the simplest things were the most beautiful.
“I thought we could come out here; look at the stars a bit. I used to like doing that at home. Though it’s different. The constellations aren’t the same where I’m from.”
“I guess I’ll just have to teach you some.”
Together they laid side by side on the roof, and Y/N pointed out her favorites. The dragon, the jack-rabbit...
After Y/N had told Sokka the story of the Red Queen, some ancient fable of a powerful Fire Lady that was always one of Y/N’s favorites, they both grew quiet, Y/N asked the question that had been brewing on her mind. She worried that whatever she said would mess up the peaceful night they had been having. It felt like she was intruding on a secret that she wasn’t supposed to know.
“Hey, Sokka,” Y/N asked.
“Hmmm,” She looked over and Sokka looked about half asleep already. Maybe this would be good timing.
“Who’s Yue?”
Sokka’s eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. “What?”
Y/N could feel her face flush. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to know.
“Yue.” The word sounded flat and foreign on her tongue. Maybe that wasn’t how you actually pronounced it? Some of the Water Tribe names and words were hard for Y/N’s mouth to form. If she could, she flushed deeper. “I heard you talking about them when I was hurt. I was in and out of it, so I don’t remember much, but I remember the name.”
Sokka suddenly looked very sad. Which was… odd because Y/N just thought that Yue was a Water Tribe spirit much like the Fire Nation had Agni.
“She’s the moon spirit,” Sokka whispered, his eyes cast down on his wringing hands.
Y/N eyes were wide. Why was he acting like this? “Oh. I figured she was a spirit or something. It sounded like you were praying to her, or something.”
“Yeah,” Sokka choked out. “Something like that.”
That’s when Y/N noticed there were drips of water on Sokka’s hands. Tears.
“Sokka?” Y/N said softly. She reached forward and–yup those were tears, dripping on their hands.
“She was a girl I met at the Northern Water Tribe when we first started traveling.”
“I thought she was…”
“She is.” For the first time, Sokka looked up. The pain in his eyes was unimaginable. “But she was still a girl when I met her.”
Sokka launched into a story that sounded more fantasy than real, but the look on his face, the sadness in his features, Y/N knew he was telling the truth.
“She was blessed by the moon spirit when she was born, it was the only reason she was alive. But when we were in the Northern Water Tribe—Zhao, a Fire Nation commander killed the moon spirit and all the water benders lost their bending, forever.” Sokka shivered. “It was scary, the moon was gone in the sky and we were helpless to fight the Fire Nation. It would have changed the tide of the war.
But she was selfless. She knew that she was the only hope for her tribe—for the world—and she sacrificed herself to save all of us. So now she’s the moon spirit…I guess. I don’t know, she’ll always be Yue to me.” Sokka’s voice trailed off with a sniffle. Y/N didn’t know how to respond.
Sokka sent a longing glance upward. The moon was just past full, waning in the far distance but still bright and round in the sky. “I think–I think she heard me that night. And she knew how much you meant to me, even then. And she saved you because…” Now it was Sokka’s turn to flush. “I don’t think I could live without you.”
Those words made Y/N’s chest burn. Her arms and legs tingled in relief as if all the tension in her body began to melt away. Y/N reached out, wiping a stray tear off of Sokka’s cheek. “Me either,” she replied instantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“’m not. Sad, really. I miss her, but it’s easier to always know where she is. She didn’t have a lot of choice in her life, but this was something she had control over. If she hadn’t become the moon spirit, the war would have ended right there. So her sacrifice meant that, you know, Zuko is our friend now and Aang has a chance at beating the Firelord and you have a place in all our lives. She made all of this possible.”
“Sounds like we have a lot more to be thankful to her for than just saving little old me then, huh?”
“You would have liked her.”
Y/N nodded and peered at the moon above them. “I do like her.”
No one else needed to know that after the two of them went inside and off to bed, that Y/N hung halfway out her window to get one last look at the moon. Y/N swore as her eyes closed and sleep overtook her that the moon shone a little brighter. Maybe that’s how the moon said thank you. Y/N’d never tell anyone that she whispered a small thank you too, to the girl who lived among the stars.
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a/n: don't be shy, come talk to me in my askbox and tell me if you liked it
taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @creation-magician @lunariasilver @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @solarsuki @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @izzieserra @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103  @im-the-galactic-starfish @charlotteisabella  @sugamonster22  @calumsfringe @whatsuphoesandbros @i-love-superhero @justasukisimp @grouchiest-hufflepuff  @euphoricmads @ivetoldamillionlies @fanficsformyperusal @mikxyu @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @someonekeepstakingmyusernames @earthtokace @justamessandahalf @perfectlyfadingmusic @atlafanforlife @iris-suoh @chilifrylizard2
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certifiedskywalker · 3 years
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Quiet Your Mind - Wanda Maximoff
You have trouble sleeping most nights. Something in you is restless and, luckily, Wanda often is as well.
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Too hot, then too cold. Too close, then too stretched out. Regardless of how you laid, sleep did not find you. Like a shadow, it danced near before waltzing away in the light that, every so often, flashed out from behind the window blinds. Whether the source was the city, with its skyscraper residents flicking off their lamps, or lightning bugs, with glowing little bodies, or passing planes, roaring in the sky, or-
It did not matter. You accused the numerous, possible origins of the light for keeping you awake. Each time the sheets drew you in and the pillow whispered to you a lullaby, the flash would stir you again. It would spark another endless spiral down a winding list of geneses before you tired your mind out and begin the cycle again. Blaming the light made your fight for rest easier to wage and to lose, time after time.
The light was physical. Much to your dismay, you could see it, name it, blame it. It was harder to pinpoint anxiety or the intrusive thoughts that fled as soon as they arrived ready to disturb you. Worry was faceless, a stalking stranger in your head that blocked your only escape: the sweet release of sleep.
Yes, it was easier to blame the light for stealing your sleep each night.
Though, a faint knocking against your door proved to be the best culprit. For a moment, you thought you imagined the sound. Perhaps your lack of sleep was finally making you delirious. So, you stayed still, sprawled out on the bed with blankets kicked about. A moment passed and there was only the echo of the sound in your mind.
Then, the knock returned. 
Unable to refute it, you kicked your legs over the edge of the bed and let your feet hit the floor. Cooled by the night’s dark, the ground sent a chill up your legs that darted along your spine. As you shook off the feeling, another knock, a touch louder than before. You sighed, the exhale sinking your shoulders, as you found the wherewithal to stand.
“I’m coming,” you said as you stepped towards the door. “I’m coming.”
Your fingers wrapped around the metal knob and turned. With an easy pull, you opened the door to reveal Wanda. She looked as tired as you felt, with dark circles under her eyes and a frown etched into her full, rose petal lips. At the sight of her, so wonderfully cast in the dim hallway light and the shadow of your bedroom, the air was knocked out of your lungs.
“Your mind is loud. I can hear it through the walls.”
You were already speechless, but the bluntness of Wanda’s greeting, or lack thereof, made your search for words impossible. Her eyes danced along your face, reading your features, or reading through them. You never could tell with Wanda. Whenever she looked at you, it felt as if you were truly being seen. In that, you felt a fear and a comfort.
“You can’t sleep.”
“Yeah, I-I mean no,” you took an unsteady breath to collect yourself. “Yes, I can’t sleep.”
Wanda’s mouth quirked upwards at your stammering. “You clearly need it.”
Her teasing caught you terribly off guard. Before you could process what Wanda said, a nervous laugh slipped past your lips. Heat rose and bloomed across your skin, and in that very moment you remembered Wanda could read minds. Panicked, you glanced back up at her, met her hazel gaze. She must have noted your wide eyes because she started to shake her head.
“Don’t worry.”
“Are you….are you reading my mind?”
“No, I don’t read minds anymore. I don’t often like what I find,” Wanda’s smile faded as she spoke. “But I can feel yours, your thoughts and how they’re keeping you awake.”
“Oh,” you sighed, unsure as to whether you should be relieved or concerned. How could Wanda find rest if she was distracted by the rest of others? The annoying light that flashed in your window could never compare to that. 
“Let me help you.”
“Wanda, it’s late,” you began, trying to meet her gaze but failing. “I don’t want to keep you up, so…”
You trailed off, too suddenly aware of your heart’s hastened beating to speak. In the hopes of calming yourself, easing the rapid thumping in your chest, you took a deep breath. It helped very little, but gave you enough airy courage that you lifted your eyes to Wanda’s once more. She was always beautiful, but something about how she leaned against the doorframe, how her eyes never left your face since you opened the door, heightened her intimidating allure.
You couldn’t put it into words but you felt it, her power over you. It made you nervous. No, it made you excited, even in your hazy, sleepless state. Wanda centered your senses, made her your focus rather than the little details, the light and sounds, that stole your rest away.
How could you refuse her?
“So, if you want to, if I’m, if my mind is keeping you up, then y-yeah. Okay.”
Wordlessly, Wanda wandered into your room, leaving you in your still open doorway. You watched her sit herself on the foot of your bed. She looked so small, silhouetted against your mattress. The sight would be difficult for a well-rested you to comprehend: Wanda, in your room, late at night and, seemingly, waiting for you. Suddenly, it was hard for you to swallow.
You pushed the door gently slowly closing it before you walked over to your bed. Wanda’s gaze was fixed on you as you moved. You glanced over at her as you sat by her side. The way the mattress dipped below your weight led your thigh to rest against Wanda’s. Through her black pajama pants, you could feel the warmth of her body against yours. On instinct, a trembling sigh passed over your lips.
Wanda wore the hints of smile as you glanced at her. Her hazel eyes, despite the darkness that pervaded your room, shone bright. They were even brighter when the light peeked out from between the window blinds. Though nothing could distract from the tiredness in her face.
“You might want to lay back,” she said softly, her Sokovian accent shining through.
“Oh, yeah.” 
At her suggestion, you scooted back along your bed until you could lay stretched out where you had laid before. As you reclined, you took the chance to draw in a long breath. You held it tight in your chest in the hopes of calming the still wild beating of your heart. When you felt the bed’s springs bend under Wanda’s weight as she leaned back with you, your held breath came out in a rushed exhale.
“You’re nervous.” Her voice was still but warm when you looked over to find Wanda watching you. She was laid on her side, her head rested on one of your extra pillows with one of her hands tucked beneath it. Your forced your eyes to meet hers, tore them away from her lips.
“And you’re sure you’re not reading my mind?” She tilted her head against the pillow, giving you a pointed look that, even in the darkness, sent a another bolt of prickling excitement through you. “Yes, I am nervous. Your powers…”
“They rage around inside me, and I have no idea how to control them when I am angry,” she lifted her free hand and wangled her fingers. Threads of scarlet magic appeared, glowing in the dark, lapping at her knuckles before they traveled up towards her fingertips. “But with you...everything is easy. Like before.”
You did not need her to elaborate on what ‘before’ meant. Before this moment, before Sokovia fell from the sky and her brother fell to the bloody dirt. Before you met and Wanda’s parents were still alive. You only looked back at Wanda, unable to help the frown that claimed your lips when her sad eyes met your gaze.
“I trust you,” you murmured.
Red tendrils reached beyond Wanda’s fingers. In the gentle crimson light the magic shed between you, you could see clearly how Wanda’s lips wore hints of a small smile.
“Then close your eyes and let me quiet your mind.”
You did as you were told and fell into the dark behind your eyelids. The moment you saw nothing, the image of Wanda’s face filled your head. If you were to open your eyes, you would see the same scene and that made rest nearly impossible to reach. Then it wasn’t.
Warmth pervaded your heavy limbs, eased each one until you felt yourself lifted outside of your body. Your thoughts immediately shifted from Wanda to the gentle mercy that she was providing via her magic. Floating, it was the only way to describe the lightness. Your hand in particular felt as if it were swaddled in flames made of feathers: warm and soft.
Though, a spark of curiosity began to burn in your chest. Wanda’s face entered your mind, pulled you from the rest her powers promised. Slowly, you peeled open your eyes. You saw only darkness at first, but then, as your eyes adjusted, you saw the outline of Wanda’s face. The red glow of her magic was dimmed but you barely registered the light; even the glinting that stretched from your window. No, that did not matter to you anymore.
You only cared about Wanda, her presence, if she was resting too.
“I can feel your eyes,” she said suddenly, “even in the dark.”
White hot but fleeting embarrassment washed over your face. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” Wanda replied. 
Before you could insist or pretend to have fallen asleep, you felt your hand truly float. But the flight was short lived as you realized how. Wanda’s fingers, still twinged with the scarlet glow of her magic, were intertwined with yours and lifting your joined hands to rest between you on the bed. You studied your entangled fingers, the feather-like flames you felt all long your skin. 
When you glanced up to Wanda’s face, her eyes were focused on you. Another wave of warmth washed over you when you saw that some of the restlessness had left her face. Silently, she pulled your joined hands closer and softly smiled at you before she said:
“Just sleep.”
She pressed her lips to the back of your hand. It was the softest kiss you had ever seen and it was the last thing you saw before your mind quieted, plunging you into the darkness one last time. You dreamed though, dreamed of waking the next morning to Wanda by your side with that same, loving smile on her face. For the first time, with no lights to distract you or thoughts to worry you, rest came easy with Wanda by your side.
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stardustprompts · 3 years
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the burning god -  r.f kuang   sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw :   ptsd ,  addiction , death , murder , nsfw  , language 
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‘do you think I’d ever let anything happen to you?’
‘you’re terrified. that’s why you’re fidgeting. you’re scared.’
‘soldiers are worth more than civilians, it’s just math.’
‘don’t cut off the head of the snake if you can tame it.’
‘none of this— our villages, our people, our freedom— will survive under their intended world order’
‘i’m the least terrible option you’ve got.’
‘I don’t mean to call you stupid, because I love you, but that plan is so stupid.’
‘i’m not sorry for this. you shouldn’t have gotten in my way.’
‘that wasn’t an insult. just being frank.’
‘they’re bullies. weakness is what they want to see.’
‘bad moral is a big weapon. don’t underestimate it.’
‘i’ve gotten you this far. trust me just a little longer.’
‘i’m not crazy right? this is clearly a trap?’
‘how do you think history will judge me if I throw away it’s fate for one person?’
‘it felt like you’d put the universe back in place. like you were balancing the scales. didn’t it?’
‘you don’t fix hurts by pretending they never happened. you treat them like infected wounds and then, maybe, you have a chance to heal.’
‘it’s not justice, it’s chaos.’
‘this is a revolution. it’s not a fucking tea party.’
‘cut me a fucking break. i’ve been fleeing for my life.’
‘I shouldn’t have counted on his virtue. but he didn’t count on my survival.’
‘they’re never gone. do you understand? they still come for you in your sleep. only this time they’re dream-wraiths, not real, and there’s no escape from them because they’re living in your own mind.’
‘your pain will always be mine.’
‘i’m not living my whole life like a beast on a leash.’
‘I should kill you. why can’t I kill you?’
‘you don’t behave rationally around her, you never do.’
‘’all right’ is not a term anyone would use to describe you.’
‘I used to hate myself for living, too. I didn’t think it was fair that I’d survived. that others had died in my place.’
‘it’s not fair. I should be in the ground with them.’
‘it doesn’t go away. It never will. but when it hurts, lean into it.’
‘this life you’ve chosen, you won’t get many moments like this again. but it’s the nights like this that keep you alive.’
‘give up, darling. trust me, this is easier. this is so much easier.’
‘you know, I think I’ve figured out where you get all that self - righteousness.’
‘their blood is on you. you killed them.’
‘I hate you. I wish we were all dead.’
‘do you think he loved you? do you think he ever loved you?’
‘this story will end. the way it was always meant to.’
‘I just want to sit for a second. in peace. can I do that?’
‘I don’t know, I thought maybe— maybe they’d realize that they need me.’
‘you are so bad at this. it’s cute.’
‘people are attracted to power, darling. they can’t help themselves. power seduces. exert it, make a show of it, and they’ll follow you.’
‘I killed him. and I don’t feel bad about it.’
‘stop pretending to care about ethics, it’s embarrassing.’
‘at some point, you’ll have to convince yourself that you’re above right and wrong. morality doesn’t apply to you.’
‘fear turns into despair, despair to panic, and then panic into utter submission. it’s incredible, the power of psychological warfare.’
‘knowing what I’ve done? yes, it hurts. unlike anything you could ever imagine.’
‘they want to erase us. they want to make us better, to improve us, by turning us into a mirror of themselves.’
‘any culture or state that diverges is necessarily inferior. we are inferior, until we speak, dress, act, and worship just like them.’
‘people pay you less attention when you don’t leave a trail of bodies in your wake.’
‘i’m just telling you what’s right in front of you. you know I’m right.’
‘you seem to have mistaken me for a dullard.’
‘it’s a tragedy we’re on different sides. you know that. we would have been so good united.’
‘he’s tried a million different things to break me. but he should have remembered he never figured out how.’
‘lost my mind for a bit. just starting to get it back now.’
‘you think we should just surrender. that we’d be better off under their rule.’
‘that’s the implication of your logic. and I won’t accept that. I can’t.’
‘i’m sure you said whatever you needed to to get them off your back. I don’t care about that.’
‘everything you do convinces them you should not exist.’
‘I did what I had to do to give him the only chance at peace he’d ever get.’
‘you are the worst thing to happen to this country. these people deserve better than you.’
‘you were only ever fighting to survive. I was fighting to win.’
‘we don’t need peace right now. we need blood.’
‘I don’t know what’s insane anymore. I just hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘there is no turning back. i’ve waited too long for this.’
‘I can’t take that from him. not even if he’s happier like this.’
‘there’s more, there’s something you’re not telling me, I deserve to know.’
‘let go of the man you remember. you’re never going to get him back.’
‘in times like these, you can’t let sleeping threats lie.’
‘if we ever feared him, it was because he was great, and great rulers always inspire fear in the hearts of the weak.’
‘you don’t get to forget. whatever you did, you don’t deserve to forget.’
‘she’s not a person anymore. she’s rage.’
‘it’s not just about the enemy. it’s about what the world looks like after.’
‘you’re trying to protect your people. I understand that. but I’m trying to protect mine.’
‘i’m not crawling into oblivion with a whimper, and you should have known that before you came here.’
‘I don’t care what else happens up there. but you come back to me.’
‘what’s this? finally developing a conscience?’
‘I know what you did. I know everything. and I don’t care. the past doesn’t matter. ____ is in danger now, and I need you.’
‘nature can’t be altered. only held at bay.’
‘don’t take on the burden of an entire nation. it’s too heavy. and you aren’t strong enough.’
‘you should know by now that when you leave your enemies alive, wars don’t end.’
‘she told me I’ll never be afraid again.’
‘that’s power. and you’re not giving that up. I know you. you’re me.’
‘I know how humiliation feels. keep your secrets if you want. but there’s nothing you can say that will make me think any less of you.’
‘i’m not going to survive this war.’
‘do you want me to say I’m sorry?’
‘what did I tell you? you were never meant to serve.’
‘if you try that shit, I will kill you.’
‘good luck. don’t do anything stupid.’
‘keep down. and when you get the chance, run.’
‘you never want to hurt them. but you have to. you have to put them through hell, because that’s the only way anyone else will survive.’
‘I would have spared them if I could have.’
‘I wasn’t a person to you, I was a weapon, and you needed me to work.’
‘it’ll never stop hurting.’
‘you love them like your own family, and a knife twists in your heart every time you watch one of them die.’
‘see this through to the end. that’s the least you own to the dead.’
‘I wish things had been different.’
‘I so hate when you’re right.’
‘you kill me and you accomplish nothing. your world as you know it will end.’
‘i’m not going to kill you. you don’t deserve that.’
‘why does everyone think this war is over. am I the only one with eyes?’
‘it’s hard to prioritize the enemy that you can’t see.’
‘don’t call me crazy.’
‘you are being crazy. you’re acting like a fucking maniac. shut up for a moment and face the fucking facts.’
‘they can’t do this to me. I was supposed to win.’
‘we built an entire nation. we don’t have to let it collapse.’
‘what he wants is what we all want, which is to stop killing our own people.’
‘we’re about to have the world we fought for. can’t you see it? it’s so close, it’s just over the horizon.’
‘you can come back. I’ll bring you back. we’re in this together.’
‘we’re trying to broker a peace here. let’s not start off with death threats, shall we?’
‘i’m just trying to make this less painful for everyone involved.’
‘you can’t do this for me. I won’t let you.’
‘it’s not for you. it’s not a favor. it’s the cruelest thing I could do.’
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Rainy days [Corpse x reader]
Paring: Corpse husband x Female!reader
Summary: “corpse x fem!reader ( she’s also a youtuber ) where they are just friends for a few years, but reader has been developing feelings for a while now. with corpse’s fan base growing so quickly, there’s also a lot of growing attention from other girls ( fans & other social media influencers ). corpse is happy with all the attention, while it is breaking the reader’s heart more every day. basically, super angsty lol and it’s totally up to you how you want to end it!” requested by anon
“please make one where like the reader and corpse fought so its like raining outside and yk the cliche type” requested by anon
Warnings: Angst and jealousy, kinda sad, I’m sorry
Words: 1.8k
A/N: Open for requests. Two requests for one.
Read part 2 cloudy afternoons here
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
You’re happy for Corpse, of course you are. What good friend wouldn’t be happy for their friend when they suddenly start to shoot for the stars? You definitely would. Right? It’s not like it hurts to watch him take in all these girls that throw themselves at him, he has never been happier for the many years you’ve known him. His YouTube channel is finally paying the bills for him, and you’re happy he doesn’t have to fear getting an eviction note, for dancing on the line a little too long. You’re happy that he has all these new friends. You’re happy he’s enjoying himself. You’re happy, because he’s happy.  So why does it hurt so much?
You’ve had feelings for your best friend for quite some time. You tried to push them away, which in return just seemed to cultivate them and make them stronger. You tried your damn best just to be his quirky happy best friend that was along with him for the ride. You never minded being the one to pick up the pieces when he fell apart. He would do the same for you… He would do the same for you, right?
You wipe away a tear escaping from your eye. You’re sitting in the shower crying on the floor. This is really what you’ve become? You think to yourself, as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at the wooden ceiling.
He would do the same for you…
You dryly laugh to yourself, of course he wouldn’t, because then he would have known when you started pulling away. You wipe the tears away, get up and rise off your face once more, before stepping out. You look at where your mirror used to be. You took it down, not able to face yourself was easier than to accept this is just how you look permanently now. Dark circles underneath your eyes, as they’ve sunken quite a bit.
You kind of forgot how you really looked sometimes, until you caught yourself in something reflective, like your pc when it ran out of power, or your metallic glazed mug. You smile bitterly at the memory, Corpse had bought it to you when you reached 100.000 subs on YouTube, saying the play button wasn’t enough. It used to be a prized possession, now it was one of your worst.
You’re happy you build your YouTube brand on variety gaming, without a face cam. You couldn’t imagine having to explain away the way you looked. The monotone in your voice was hard enough.
I was just having an off day
Sorry, kind of sick today
My microphone isn’t picking up my voice probably.
You sigh to yourself as you collect your phone, and your empty bag. The fridge doesn’t fill itself. You’re pretty sure your fans caught onto something being wrong by the 4th excuse. You lock the door behind you, and glace up at the sky. It seems to be getting darker. You sigh as you realize you’re not going to be back home before it’s raining.
You walk the short distance down to the bus as you wait for it to arrive, you scroll through your twitter feed. It’s filled with pretty girls, much prettier than you are, throwing themselves at Corpse. You get a sudden urge to throw your phone into the passing traffic, but money has been tight lately with your down tuning of content, to take more time to be able to self-pity in the living room with a shitty romance show going on.
You really lost your best friend to your own feelings, huh. What an anticlimax.
You step onto the bus, not noticing the black dressed, black masked guy in the end of it. Watching you intentionally. If you had been able to read minds, you would hear the ongoing battle in his head on whether or not to approach you.
The bus pulls up the grocery store and you get off. Not sparing the other two passengers getting off a second thought. You pull your jacket closer together, as the wind starts getting colder. You finally arrive in the store, just a few seconds before the rain starts to drop.
The calming ominous music of the store fills your eyes, as you focus on getting something edible that isn’t directly just sugar with more sugar. You pick your groceries carefully, nothing that needs a lot of preparation. But if you eat one more tv meal, you’re going to throw it up. You’re too distracted by what pasta to choose, that you don’t realise the guy in black has now passed you for the 5th time, while you’re in aisle 9.
You choose both and head for the register. You sigh as you watch the long line, there’s only one way out, and you’re certainly not leaving your groceries now. You step in line. And pull out your phone. The lock screen taunting you with a picture of you and Corpse mushed together somehow in his gaming chair, you’re pretty sure it was Dave that took the photo. You shake your head and check the time. The bus just left. You sigh knowing there is a little over an hour before the next one leaves. Fucking public transport.
It finally becomes you, you watch the price tick up further and further. You take your card out. Swipes it through.
Declined.
What? You try it again
Declined.
C’mon, it has got to work. You try again
Declined.
And again
Declined.
And again
Declined.
You smile apologetic to the cashier, as you start to figure out what you won’t be needing too much.
“I’ll pay for her.”  A deep voice speaks further down the line. You know exactly the person whose voice that is.
“Please, you don’t have to-“ You watch as Corpse steps out of the line and puts a box of cereal on the register for the cashier to ring up with the rest of your stuff.
“I don’t-“
“That’ll be 79 dollars and 32 cents, please.” The cashier ignores you.
Corpse pays and gets the receipt, knowing you’re going to beg him for you to pay him back. You used to do the same when you were little. Corpse stands by as he watches you pack your groceries, and he waits for you. He barely recognized you in the bus. It’s been weeks since you last spoke, and even longer since you last saw each other. He knows you were getting bad, but not this bad. He don’t know why he never reached out he knows he should. But there are too many unsaid things hanging in the air, and neither of you wanting to be the one to pick the first one.
He reaches out to take one of the two bags. But you take it right underneath him, and walk to the doors, leaving him to hurry after or be left behind.
“Y/N I-“
He gets surprised by the rain, he hadn’t noticed the darkening sky earlier. You keep walking until he calls out after you again.
“Y/N! Please!”
You stop in you tracks. To think you had missed hearing your name from his lips, he uses it like it’s not the only thing you have left that’s your own.
He jogs the remaining distance and puts his hand on your shoulder, and you let him turn you around to make him face you. He’s not sure if it’s the rain, or if it’s tears that’s starting to fall. He takes the rest of your face in, the dark circles, the clear weight loss. He know, you don’t know how much you don’t look like yourself.
“Listen, thank you, I’ll pay you back next month. But if you’re not going to say anything, I have places to be, and-“
He puts his hand on her chin caressing it. She suddenly looks so small standing there in front of him. You quickly pull yourself back, wanting to lean into his touch, but knowing that it would only make what hurts, hurt more in the end.
“What did you want?” You snap at him. And something snaps in him too, as his brows furrows together.
“Oh I don’t know. Say hi to my best who just up and disappeared from the face of earth two months ago. I wonder what I want.” He snaps back at you, his deep voice nearly emitting a growl of frustration from him.
“So what, that’s what it takes 2 months before you want to find me. Did you get tired of all those girls throwing themselves at you? Did you get tired of your new friends you just cast me aside from? Did you get tired of all the money? Please do tell.” You stretch out your arms in a welcoming stance.
Corpse takes a step back, you’ve never yelled at him like this before. Tears streaming down your face as you’re soothing anger.
“…You think I threw you aside?” Corpse sucks in a breath waiting for your anger to come at him, but instead you suddenly look small again.
“Didn’t you Corpse? The excuse why I could never come over anymore, why you never had time. I was happy for you, you know, I supported you all the way. Heck I even fucking loved you, and you cast me aside, you up and threw away so many memories and a long friendship, just because I suddenly didn’t fit into your new group.” You look him straight in the eyes. “Corpse, I’m tired okay. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep picking up your pieces and help you reassemble yourself, for you to keep casting me aside. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t need your pity; I don’t need anything from you. I’ll make sure you get the money first thing next month.”
She takes a step away from him, the before intimate atmosphere now fully escaped.
“All I ask is that we part here. I love you too much to watch you fall apart again.” Your voice is trembling as you turn around heading for the bus stop, leaving Corpse in the rain to fend for himself.
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dumdumsun · 3 years
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Of Starlight
A/N: Enjoy ❤️
Warnings: none that I’m aware of
Word Count: 2912
—————————————
Chapter 18: What Would Have Happened
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It happened so quickly. One minute, Hazel had shown up to the mansion with the desire to help the family with the prevention of the apocalypse, then next minute, Five was watching Diego and Hazel fight before him for almost a full forty five seconds. Punches and kicks were thrown, blood was drawn, but Five decided to step in when Diego clamped his teeth down on Hazel’s ear. Setting his margarita down on the bar, Five blinked behind his brother with a glass vase before smashing it down on his head, the vigilante collapsing to the ground, unconscious. “I draw the line at biting.” He remarked as he made his way back over to the bar. He glanced over at Hazel, who was groaning and nursing his ear. “Hazel, whatever you came here to say, I suggest you make it quick, before he comes ‘round.”
“I left my partner, quit the Commission, came to volunteer.”
“For what?” Five returned to his seat at the bar, picking up his drink.
“To help stop the apocalypse.” Hazel swiped glass off of his shoulder. The man earned a chuckle from the boy as he sipped on his drink. Hazel frowned. “What on earth could be so funny to you right now?”
“Before I answer that, why do you wanna help us?”
Hazel took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in a doughnut shop.” Whatever that meant. Five smiled as he took his straw out of his mouth.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, pal, but you’re a day late and a dollar short. The fact that you’re here right now means, without a shadow of a doubt, the apocalypse is over.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“The mark is dead. Found him this morning,” Five inhaled as he thought over (Y/N)’s words of suspicion. “You were the last known unknown left in the equation.”
Hazel let out an airy chuckle, slightly shaking his head. “Shit… Really?”
“Mmhm,” Five nodded and turned around in his seat. “And if you’re out, then Hellrider ain’t riding.”
Throwing his head back, Hazel inhaled deeply, raising his fists in the air. “Oh! Alright!” He grinned. Letting out a relieved laugh, he stepped away from Diego and joined Five at the bar. Picking up the blender, he gulped down what was left of the margarita, Five chuckling and turning his head forward. When Hazel emptied the blender, he set it back in place, exhaling in content. “So now what?”
“You know, to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve been chasing this thing for so long, I…,” He and Hazel turned to each other. “I never really thought about the day after… I don’t know. What about you?”
“I’m done with all of this madness,” Hazel shook his head. “Time to start over. You should do the same.”
“That’s easier said than done…”
“It doesn’t have to be hard. I mean, think about it like this. If you never time traveled, you never got caught up with The Handler, what would have happened?”
Five glanced over his shoulder, at the unconscious Diego, before turning back to Hazel. “I guess I would have grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everybody else around here,” He nodded, Hazel softly chuckling. “But after that… I guess I would have married the love of my life.”
Hazel raised his brows and leaned back a bit. “Really? I would’ve never guessed a cold-hearted killer would have a soft spot. Especially for a girl.”
“Yeah, well… neither did I. But there’s nothing else I’d rather do right now…”
“Well, there you go. Now you can grow up and get married,” Rising from his seat, Hazel nodded at the boy. “Good luck.” As he began to leave, Five glanced over at Delores. This was the time to make things right. The boy called out to Hazel as he turned toward him.
“One more thing before you go.”
“Shoot.”
“Which one of you was the triggerman for Detective Patch?”
“Triggerwoman.” Hazel blinked. Five sighed through his nose.
“Huh. That’s too bad… That gun could’ve cleared my brother’s name.”
Hazel inhaled as he reached into his pockets. “Well, today’s your lucky day, amigo,” He took out two guns and walked up to Five, setting them down on the bar. “Take ‘em both. I’m done with this life.”
Five gave him a ghost of a smile of gratitude as he watched him leave the parlor. And with that, another weight had been lifted from his child-like shoulders. Turning back to Delores, Five deeply sighed. “Now it’s… Now it’s figuring out what (Y/N) wants…”
“Diego?!” As if on cue, the girl’s voice rang throughout the room. He looked over his shoulder to see her crouching beside their brother, placing a hand on his head, (e/c) eyes full of concern.
“He’s fine.” Five spoke up. Her head snapped up to him.
“He is?”
“I just knocked him out. Did what I had to do.”
“Oh, well, then…” She stood with a shrug, moving to his side. Sitting down in the seat Hazel once occupied, she placed a hand on his back. “How’re you doing, bub?”
The nickname sent a rush of heat to Five’s face and ears. He hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable. “Honestly, I’m a little lost, Starlight… I didn’t have a plan after this.”
“Well, then, what do you wanna do?” She held his free hand in hers, raising it to her lips. “Now that you’ve got loads of freetime.”
“I was hoping you’d help me with that,” He leaned closer, gently touching foreheads with her. “Now that I have no idea what the future holds for us… I just want to have one with you.”
“I’ve cried enough these past eight days, Five,” (Y/N) sniffled with a grin on her face. “Don’t make me do it again.” They both chuckled quietly, hands tightly clasped together. They knew this wasn’t a life or death situation, but they’d been so used to losing each other that every moment of peace felt like nothing but the calm before the horrible, horrible storm. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her love in a warm hug. Not even hesitating, he returned it, gently rubbing her shoulder. “You mean it? You want a future with me?”
“I mean it with every pubescent bone in my body.”
“Ew…” She laughed, the sound alone tugging at his heart. He then felt the warmth of her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. He swore his heart exploded right then and there. When she pulled away, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t formulate a single sentence in his mind. It hadn’t even been a real kiss and yet it had rendered him speechless, nonetheless. She smirked in amusement at his current state. “Five, you’re staring.”
“I’m well aware.” He breathed. She giggled and circled around him to leave the room, their eyes never breaking contact as their fingers lingered against each other. When they had finally let go, both their hands twitched, itching for that contact again. (Y/N) placed her fingers against her lips as she turned away and left the parlor to head upstairs. She had planned to go check on her children again. It had felt like months since she’d last seen them. Now that the end of all life on earth had been stopped, she knew she had to make things right and explain everything to them. No matter how crazy she sounded. She owed them that much.
She passed by Allison’s room, but stopped when she saw movement from the small crack in the door. Slowly opening the door wider, she gasped at the sight of Allison, now in different clothing, walking around her room. The woman turned towards the door, a tearful smile stretching across her face. “You’re awake…” The girl teared up as the two ran to each other, engulfing one another in a hug. Allison sniffled and kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Oh, god, you’re okay, Ally, you’re okay…” She repeated, more to herself than to Allison. When they pulled away, they sat themselves on the bed. The Rumor reached over to her notepad and began to write something down. (Y/N) leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees, waiting patiently for her sister with a small smile on her face. The smile faltered when Allison turned the notepad to her.
VANYA KNOWS
“She knows?” (Y/N) frowned. “She knows what?” Her gaze followed Allison’s writing.
WHAT WE DID
“Allison, I’m not understanding.” She shook her head. Allison sighed in frustration and hastily scribbled down her response.
THE RUMOR
“The rumor? Like… when we were little?” She asked, Allison nodding. “Is that why she did this? She found out about… but I don’t understand. What did the…”
“I heard a rumor… you think you’re just ordinary.”
“Number Eight, summon a clone. Tell it to make sure Number Seven does not leave her room. No matter what.”
Her face formed into horrified shock. “So, Vanya has powers,” The nod of confirmation from Allison had the girl running her hands down her face. “Jesus Christ… and we were both in on it…” The two sat in silence. Both in fear. Both in shame. Shameful of the pain they’d caused their sister, of blindly following through with their father’s plans without a single word of protest. (Y/N) turned her attention to the sound of the marker against the paper.
ITS MY FAU-
“No,” (Y/N) held Allison’s wrist, forcing her to halt her writing. “It’s my fault as much as it is yours. We were both there… I take this blame with you. Okay, Ally? You don’t have to make yourself feel like shit all the time,” The scoff she got from Allison made (Y/N) frown. “Allison, tell me one good thing you think you’ve done.” Silence followed. Allison stared down at her knees for what seemed like forever before shaking her head with a shrug.
“Well, I’ve got a list. Let’s see… You promote my work in your interviews… You gave birth to my favorite niece,” The woman silently giggled at that. “You were my maid of honor… You stay so fucking strong despite the shit thrown at you constantly,” She reached over and held her sister’s hand. “You’re learning, Ally. We all are. No one said we had to be perfect… We do shitty things and then we learn from them. Yes, part of the process is feeling like shit, but it isn’t the end. I just want you to know… you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me. If you ever feel like a piece-of-shit-sister… know that I think otherwise. Vanya doesn’t hate you… I’m sure after we properly apologize, she’ll understand, right? She just found out that everything she was ever told was a lie… and the source of it. She’s learning, too. We just need to be patient with her. No one really ever was…”
Allison smiled down at her notepad and scribbled something down before holding it up.
PRETTY SMART FOR A KID
“Piss off, Allison.” (Y/N) laughed.
-------------------------------------------------
After leaving Allison to her own devices, (Y/N) slipped into her bedroom and swiped her car keys off her bedside table. She whistled a tune and spun the keys on her finger as she walked towards the stairs. Hearing rustling, she halted when she saw Five in his own room. She walked inside and gently knocked on the door. He looked up from the duffle bag he had just unzipped and smiled tightly. “Hey, Starlight.”
“Hey, bub,” She watched him with a raised brow. “What’re you doing?”
“Uh, well… I figured if I’m going to move on and live as much of a normal life as I can… I’ve gotta let go of the past.” He motioned towards Delores, who sat in her usual chair. (Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock.
“Seriously? Five, you’re returning Delores?”
“It won’t be easy, I admit,” He grunted. “But I… I have to do this.”
“Make things right,” She nodded, Five staring at her in slight confusion. “You could say I’m on my own journey with that…”
“We all might as well be,” He slowly picked up Delores, his green eyes holding so much care and fondness for the mannequin. He hesitated as he so very gently placed her in the duffle bag. Sighing, he turned his head to (Y/N). “Would you like to say any last words to her, (Y/N)?”
“Oh, uh… Sure,” The girl cleared her throat and slowly walked to Five’s side. He stepped back a little to give her space. Her eyes darted around the room. From Five, to his posters, to the window, before finally landing on Delores. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Delores… um, well, we didn’t talk all that much, but… I think if Five likes you so much, you must be pretty great. I, uh… actually wanna thank you… for taking care of him. He went through hell and my worst fear was that he’d do it alone… but you came in and did what I couldn’t. And I’ll be eternally grateful for that. I wish you luck in life, Delores.” Standing up straight, she turned to Five, who nodded in satisfaction.
“Beautifully said. Now,” He walked closer and zipped up the duffle bag. “I’ll only be a little while.”
“Oh, wait,” (Y/N) gently pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. “I can drive you there.”
-------------------------------------------------
(Y/N)’s car parked in front of the department store Five had directed her to. Very slowly, the boy removed his seatbelt and turned to the backseat, where the duffle bag sat. He let out a breath and slowly reached back for it. “I don’t know, Starlight… If I can…”
“I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want, Five… But if you truly want to move on and have… that future… This is kinda necessary. I know you can do this, bub. You have more than just Delores now. You’ve got our siblings, you’ve got me.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Five hummed and grabbed hold of the duffle bag, dragging it into his lap. His finger gently ran over the fabric as he shut his eyes.
“I know…”
Seeing the somber look in his eyes once they opened, she tilted her head and smiled. “Make sure they get her a new outfit. She’d look beautiful in red.”
Five chuckled and shook his head, opening his door to leave. “I’ll be back.” He whispered.
“And I’ll be right here.” She smiled. He returned the expression before getting out and closing the door, swinging the bag onto his back as he strode inside the store. (Y/N) leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, a distant vision she’d had years ago resurfacing her memories.
-------------------------------------------------
The clone stood a few feet away from Five, who sat on the hood of an abandoned car with Delores by his side. The boy sighed and stared up at the star-painted sky. He threw his arm around the mannequin’s “shoulder” and leaned into her. “These stars remind me of (Y/N)... Who is she? Oh, just… a girl…” The clone stalked closer to the car in silence. “What? No, Delores, she’s… Well, she’s dead now. I just called her Starlight because… that’s what she was to me. In an endless sea of darkness, she shone in all her glory. She didn’t make the darkness go away, but she sure made it more bearable to live with… Yeah,” He bitterly chuckled. “Yeah, I was in love with her… But it doesn’t matter. She’s… She’s gone now,” He turned his head to face Delores, his eyes softening. “But at least I have you…”
The clone’s foot came into contact with a nearby scrap of metal, the screeching of it sliding against the ground alerting Five. He jumped up and turned to the clone in anger. “Go away!” He tried waving it off. When it didn’t respond, he hopped off the car and stormed up to it. “I said go away! All you ever do is stand there and look like her! You don’t talk like her or smile like her o-or laugh like her! You just sit there and take up space! Just get the hell away from me!” He shouted, not daring to get any closer, for he knew he’d only get shoved back. The clone only squinted its eyes at Five, the boy sighing in exasperation and stomping back to the car. It watched as he sat atop the hood, burying his face into his hands.
“What the hell am I gonna do with it, Delores…?”
-------------------------------------------------
The girl snapped her eyes open when she heard the car door opening. Turning to her right, she was greeted with the sight of Five. Alone. As he climbed into his seat and shut the door, she grinned brightly at him. She reached her hand over and placed it over his. “I’m so proud of you…” She whispered. The boy only nodded, eyes trained on his knees. (Y/N) tilted her head and hummed in a soothing manner. She considered her next decision for about a solid two minutes before starting the car up again.
“Do you want to meet Michael and Jada?”
—————————————
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spellcasterlight · 3 years
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Hi there Shimmering Starfish Anon! 🥰
Oh my goodness that’s so sweet! Thank you so much! 🥺
I have a few headcanons for a grandfather Shibi!
Happy birthday Shibi! You gorgeous, smart, powerful shinobi and fantastic father you! 😎
Warnings: Major Character Death.
The head of the Aburame clan was finishing some paperwork in his office when the sound of his son’s wife’s voice broke through the silence.
“Can I tell him, Shino?! Please, please, please?!”
Shibi heard Shino chuckle from around the corner.
“He is; my; father Tenten.”
“Well, yea but I’m the one who-”
“Tell me what; Shino?”
Shibi leaned against the door looking between the positively beaming Tenten and his smiling son. Whatever their news was, it was very positive.
The weapons mistress was bouncing on the spot, looking at Shino like a child waiting to be permitted to raid the sweet drawer. His son only smirked.
“I believed; you; wanted to tell him?”
With a playful punch to Shino’s arm, she turned to him, smiling somehow, only getting wider.
“Shibi,” she took hold of his hand in both of hers while at the same time Shino planted a loving hand on her hip. The couple shared another gleeful look before finishing. “I’m pregnant.”
It was like someone temporarily stole all the oxygen out of the air before rushing it all into his lungs again.
Him? A grandfather? Shino and Tenten were having a baby? He was going to be-
Tenten started bouncing again, holding his hand tighter.
“You’re going to be a grandad!”
Shino called for his attention when he had been silent in his delighted thoughts for too long. “Father?”
“How wonderful,” Shibi felt Tenten let out a shining bright laugh of amusement and wonder when he couldn’t help himself and engulfed her in a hug; it only got louder when Shibi brought Shino into the hug as well. “Nothing; could be more wonderful.”
Shibi doesn’t understand his son’s confusion at his immediate advice about keeping a medical ninja around twenty-four seven, about making sure she doesn’t move too much, about increasing her check-ups to make sure she has twice as many as usual.
Zoka, Shino’s mother, was so weak when she was pregnant she was nearly bedbound for the latter half of it.
It’s only when Shibi sees Tenten doing her morning target practice a few weeks later that he realises how wrong he was, how he had let old fears engulf him after his first wave of euphoria. Tenten is physically far stronger than his wife was; she would be okay. He starts to breathe a little easier.
When Tenten is taken off the active-duty list, and Shino is out of the village, Shibi will have his Kikaichu follow her to keep an eye on her; he believes he is stealthy, the Aburame clan head is merely being cautious, but when Tenten shows up at his door after only the third time with an annoyed look on her face he realises Shino taught her better than that.
“Shibi,” Tenten said in an exasperated but not angry tone. Shibi has the decency to feel slightly ashamed. “I don’t need the both of you watching over me.”
“I am; aware; you are more than capable,” and he did know that. “I merely; worry.”
The weapons mistress smiled a knowing, understanding smile at him before taking his hands in hers.
“Next time, just come down to our house, okay? Or even better, we’ll go out for tea. If you’re going to worry, at least do it where I can talk some sense into you.”
He is once again reminded how strong-willed she is.
Shibi always hoped and prayed, and maybe even a little bit silently pleaded that Shino’s journey into fatherhood would be a slow walk rather than the quick sprint his was with Shino being born prematurely and his mother dying in childbirth, he had to become both a father and a single father all in one day. With each passing day when Tenten still has no trouble walking or looking after herself, and with every passing positive check-up report, it looks like his prayers were going to be answered.
When Tenten tells him they’re having a boy, he’s not surprised Aburame born females are scarce for reasons his clan had yet to discover, but that doesn’t stop him from being excited with his daughter-in-law anyway.
Shibi doesn’t cry when he holds his grandson for the first time, but the usually silent air around him does shift to have that aura; both Tenten and Shino could tell he came damn close.
Shibi dotes on his one and, he knows himself, only, grandchild. Shino and Tenten are both fierce people who adore their work. Having only one child allows them to be both loving parents and continue the shinobi work they love, he thinks it’s the best of both worlds, and it means he gets to look after Shinja entirely on the infrequent times they are both on missions. So he turned Shino’s old room into a room for his grandson.
Shinja’s first pair of sunglasses are an old pair of Shibi’s. There are some scratches on the frames, but the lenses reflect the light so well. Tenten makes a joke about being blinded by them. They’re so shiny because Shibi spent all night cleaning and polishing them.
He will not critique or discourage Shino’s teaching style when it comes to Shinja’s hive training. On the contrary, Shibi feels his son does a far better job describing things than he ever did, so when Shino tells him he’s just building upon the lessons, he gave he contains his surprise but only just.
He watches his grandson’s chunnin exams fights sitting right beside his son and daughter in law, Shinja does not pass the first time. Only when Shibi tells Shinja that neither he, his mother, or his father passed the first time does he fully accept the outcome.
Shibi dies in a way most shinobi could only dream of dying due to old age surrounded by family who loves him. Shino had taken over as head of the clan for many years at that point. Tenten owned her shop and was a successful jonin. His grandson was a chunnin level shinobi with his own ambitions and friends. So they would all be okay. His family would be okay.
The last thing he asked for, before sending them on their way, just like his wife did to him just before she died, was to receive a crushing hug from his grandson.
His life was complete.
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uwuwriting · 3 years
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Bad day for the pros w/ Bakugou, Shinsou and Todoroki
Request: May I ask for some headcanons of pro hero Bakugou, pro hero Shinso and pro hero Shoto, they had a very very bad day at work, some heavy stuff happened and it was their fault, but fear not! y/n is here to save the day with love, good cooking and cuddles to be their hero. (Fem reader if possible)- anonymous 
I haven’t written for Shinsou in a while, same goes for Bakugou. Shoto is baby, I can never go for too long without writing for him. My midterms are coming up so I won’t be posting next week at all, I’m stressed and depressed and whenever I think that in June I’ll be taking my university entrance exams I wanna wretch. So yeah life is going great. Love ya.💖💖💖
masterlist II rules 
warnings: tired babies, fluff, some angst, self doubt.
Bakugou Katsuki
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-People really have no chill and poor baby is barely keeping it together. 
-He’s minutes away from committing mass murder and man slaughter.
-It’s common knowledge that he has no patience whatsoever and people today seemed to be testing his control. 
-But alas finally this awful day was over and he could go back to your shared apartment and relax, eat something and sleep. 
-Stepping into the apartment he dropped his duffel bag with a loud thud letting out a sigh as he slowly peeled off his jacket and slipped into his slippers. 
- “Katsu?”
-Your sweet voice rang through the halls, your head peeking out from the corner eyes landing on his slumped shoulders and tense features.
-Wordlessly you gently grabbed his hand and guided him into your bedroom. 
-Passing him a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie you pushed him into the bathroom where the tub was already filled with steaming hot water. 
- “Dinner is almost ready, take your bath and I’ll be waiting.” 
-Giving him one last kiss on the lips you exited the bathroom. 
-Almost 20 minutes later he came into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stirred the soup. 
- “Bad day baby?” 
-He only answered with a grunt as he buried his face in the crook of your neck nuzzling his nose in your hair. 
-Mumbling something under his breath you let out a chuckle as you gave him a plate and guided him to the living room couch. 
-Settling down next to him you kissed him again before digging in. 
-Soon enough you were cuddling on the couch, his head on your chest and your hands intertwined. 
-You’re running your fingers through his spiky hair, smoothing down the knots as he goes on and on about his awful day. 
-People really were pushing his buttons today.
- “You wanna go to bed then?”
- “But it’s early for you.”
-Shrugging you got up taking him with you. 
-Once in bed you cuddled again with you being the big spoon since your mans needs some well deserved comfort.
-“No matter how bad your day is I’ll always be here for you.” 
- “I know shitty woman.”
- “Awww I love you too.” 
Shinsou Hitoshi
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-He was tired of people doubting his motives. 
-Really it was getting old.
-The mocking and the lingering fear even after five years in the hero industry. 
-His agency had booked another meet and greet so they could do some damage control with the hate Hitoshi was getting and of course he couldn’t bring you along. 
-He was kinda jealous of your day off. 
-Jealous because he wished he could spend time with you and Mochi rather than deal with random strangers changing sidewalks during his patrol. 
-He was exhausted as he stepped into your shared apartment that night, Mochi sprawled on the hallway carpet waiting for his other owner. 
-Awaiting for his belly rubs with open paws, Mochi ignored the dark aura his master was emanating , or he just chose to ignore it. 
- “Didn’t Y/N give you belly rubs? I bet you have been taking my place all day mister.” 
- “You know he can’t replace you, love.” 
-He looked up only to be met with your dazzling smile and bright eyes although he could see the faint signs of sleepiness clinging to your eyelids.
-He could feel your eyes inspecting him and soon enough he would be kissed and pushed towards the bathroom for a much needed shower because you would see how tired and drained he was. 
-He could never get away. 
-It was a power you had since high school and try as he might he could never hide his fatigue. 
-Before he knew it he was up on his feet, capture tool placed on the hanger near the door and slippers on his feet, a kiss on each cheek and one lingering one on the lips. 
-Soon he was soaking in the tub with you behind him massaging his scalp with that special lavender shampoo while humming a soft tune. 
-It always amazed him how you could calm him without using words and if he was being honest he wanted to keep it that way, the silence was always nice and he loved basking in your presence but today he really needed to be reassured. 
- “Why do you stay with me?” 
-Your movements stilled at his words and he could feel your eyes widening. 
- “It’s bad publicity for you, you’ve been held back on hero ratings because people believe that you are conspiring with me in some master plan.” he sighed before continuing leaving you no space to speak. “You could have anyone you want. It would make your life 100 times easier if I wasn’t in it.” 
-You would have never guessed that those thoughts were running through his head when he walked through the door moments earlier. 
-Hugging him closely to your chest you finally spoke. 
- “I fell in love with you and you alone. I would never leave you because some pompous asshats keep saying that you are a villain. Hero rankings can go suck it for all I care along with anyone who wants to call you a monster.” Turning around so now you were straddling his lap you cupped his cheeks connecting your foreheads. “I love you with all my heart ‘Toshi, don’t ever forget it.” 
-You might be a witch putting him under a spell with your sweet words.
-He believed you and with that he relaxed in your grip, hugging you like his life depended on it because in his eyes, it did. 
Todoroki Shoto
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-He couldn’t even count how many times he was told he looked like his father today. 
-He couldn’t begin to describe how gut wrenching those comments were.
-One would believe that being compared to the retired n.1 would be a big fit for an upcoming hero but not for Shoto. 
-The first thought that always runs through his head when those words are heard is his mother. 
-The fear in her eyes and how much she hated his left side, to the point of scarring him for life. 
-He begins to wonder if you too look at him with such disgust and hatred from time to time. 
-He knew of your dislike towards his father since you two were in high school and he finally shared his past with you. 
-This undying dislike carried on into your adult life even after multiple family dinners and warm, friendly exchanges with Endeavor. 
-Did you also think he was like his father? 
-Did you see Endeavor when he walked inside your shared apartment at night?
-He got home before you or at least that's what he remembers.
-You found him with his head resting in his hands and back pressed against the hallway’s wall when you returned from your patrol. 
-At first you thought that he was hurt but after he didn’t answer to your fifth call of his name you knew it was more of a mental struggle. 
-Crouching down to his level you slowly pried his hands from his face, giving him a smile once his eyes came into view. 
-Cupping his cheeks, you brushed your fingers over his scar once, twice before leaning in and giving him a little peck on the nose, then on his forehead, then on each cheek, on his scar and last on his lips.
- “Sho my love, what’s wrong?” 
-Your hand was now running through his hair, untangling the soft locks of white as your other still lay on his other cheek, your thumb making small smooth circles on his scar. 
- “Do you see me as Endeavor?” 
-Taking in a sharp breath you stopped your ministrations for a moment before shuffling closer to him and raising his chin so he would finally meet your eyes. 
- “I see Shoto when I look at you. I see the shy boy who wouldn’t sit next to me during movie night in our first year so he wouldn’t make me uncomfortable. I see the boy who overcame his fears and used his quirk. I see the pro hero who has saved hundreds of lives in the three years he has been in the industry. I see the man I’m in love with. So no, I don’t see Endeavor.” 
-He looked at you then, really looked at you. 
-You were smiling at him, one of your sweet as honey smiles while your eyes almost sparkled as they were locked with his. 
-In one swift movement he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you flush to his chest a thousand I love you’s leaving his lips as he kissed senseless. 
- “Now would you like some takeout soba from that place you like or homemade soba with my lovely cooking.” 
- “I wanna actually eat so takeout.” 
- *le gasp*
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fridayfirefly · 3 years
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Two Birds [Part One]
Read Two Birds on AO3
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Masterlist [Two Birds Series]
Written for Maribat March Day 14 - Dead
Nine-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng peeked around the legs of her Grandma Gina to look up at the circus tent. Framed by the setting sun, it looked grand and magnificent, but Marinette still would rather have stayed at home. "We'll be staying here?"
"Not inside the circus tent, silly. There are trailers around back that the performers sleep in. That's where we'll be staying."
Marinette scuffed her shoes against the ground, watching the dust kick up. "Why couldn't we just stay at home?"
"We have to experience new things, Marinette - that's what makes life worth living when you're old like me."
"I don't want to try new things and I don't want to stay with strangers. I just want to stay at home."
"It's only three days, sweetheart. Just trust me. You'll have fun."
Marinette pouted but nodded anyway. "Fine." Marinette loved her Grandma Gina, who brought her gifts from all around the world and told her stories of her travels. However, Marinette didn't like when her parents made Gina babysit. Gina refused to babysit Marinette at home and instead took Marinette on her travels with her. Marinette didn't like traveling, especially when it meant she had to stay with strangers. She much preferred her own bed to the bed of a stranger.
"Gina Dupain!" exclaimed a smiling man, walking out of the circus tent.
"Walter Haly! How are things in the circus business?"
"Worse without you, my lovely Gina. Please tell me you'll perform while you're staying with us."
Gina smiled but shook her head. "I'm too old for the trapeze, Walter. But maybe I can convince this little one to try it out." Gina pushed Marinette out in front of her.
"Oh! Who is this?"
"My granddaughter, Marinette."
Haly knelt down to get to Marinette's height. "How old are you, Marinette?"
Marinette stared down at her shoes, scuffed up brown with dust. "I'm nine years old."
"Do you want to try out the trapeze?"
Marinette vigorously shook her head. "I'm scared of heights."
"Well, we'll see about that. A lot can change in three days." Haly got up and led Marinette and Grandma Gina around behind the tent to the trailers.
Marinette knew that if her mother was there, she would be scolded for being rude, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to stay at the circus. She wanted to stay in her room, play Ultra Mecha Strike with Kim, and sneak cookies from the bakery when Gina wasn't looking.
Haly pointed to a baby-blue colored trailer. "Gina, you'll be staying on Clarise's couch - you remember Clarise, right."
Grandma Gina nodded. "Clarise was the redhead, right? The sword-swallower?"
"That's the one. Now, her couch only has room for one, so Marinette will be staying with the Graysons. They have a son - Richard - who's her age." Haly pointed out a trailer painted with green and yellow stripes.
Marinette grabbed onto Gina's hand. "I want to stay with you, Grandma Gina."
Gina shook her head. "You have to stay with the Graysons. But don't worry sweetheart, you'll have a lot of fun."
Marinette sighed and dragged her feet as she walked to the trailer. Of all the weekend that her parents left town to go to a pastry exhibition, it had to be the weekend that the circus that Grandma Gina once performed at was in town. Marinette knocked twice on the door and waited for it to open. A pretty woman with dark hair and kind eyes opened up the door and started speaking in perfect French. "Oh, hello! You must be little Marinette."
"Yes ma'am," Marinette mumbled.
"Come inside sweetheart." The woman led Marinette into the trailer. It was cramped and messy, but obviously well-loved. The walls were painted periwinkle and the curtains covering the window were orange with blue butterflies. "You don't have to call me ma'am, it makes me feel old. I'm Mary, and this is my husband John."
John was sitting on the couch, mending a tear in a crimson red leotard. "Hello, Marinette. Welcome to Haly's Circus."
"Hi."
Mary started leading Marinette to a door. "This is our son Dick's room, where you'll be sleeping. We set up an air mattress on the floor. You can drop your backpack off in there. Dick will be showing you tomorrow, keeping you out of trouble."
"Okay."
Dick was sitting on the bed when Marinette walked into the room, reading a comic book. Marinette waved shyly, "Hello, I'm Marinette."
"I'm Dick, Dick Grayson."
"Which comic book is that?" asked Marinette, leaning forward to get a good look at the title.
"It's an American comic book about this superhero named Ant-Man. He can shrink super small or grow super huge. He's really cool."
"Could I read it?" asked Marinette.
"Sure. I even have the first one on my bookshelf. I have comic books for nearly all of the Marvel superheroes."  As Marinette read, Dick explained the backstories of all of his favorite superheroes and why he owned so many of the comics. "I want to be a superhero someday. If I were a superhero, I would want to be able to fly for real, not just on the trapeze.
Just then, Marinette noticed a poster up on the wall. Visit Haly's Circus to watch the amazing Flying Grayson trapeze family. On the poster were three silhouettes of trapeze artists. "That's you on the poster, isn't it?"
"Yep. I've been doing trapeze since I was seven, and I'm ten now, so that's three whole years. I only got to start performing last month, though." Dick hopped off of his bed and sat down on the air mattress, facing Marinette. "While you're here, are you gonna learn how to do trapeze?"
Marinette shook her head. "I can't. It's too scary."
"But trapeze isn't even scary," protested Dick.
"Maybe not for you, but you do it all the time. I've never done it before and I'm scared of heights."
"Hmm. How about, if you try out the trapeze, I'll do something that scares me, too."
"What would you do?"
Dick stopped to think it over, his face scrunched up in a way that Marinette found both cute and worrisome, given that he was thinking over ways to get her to face her greatest fear of all time. "I know! If you learn trapeze, I'll learn to swim."
"No way! Swimming is way easier than trapeze."
"Not for me!" said Dick indignantly. "I've never been able to swim. But I'll learn how if you learn how to do trapeze."
"I don't know..." Dick was so enthusiastic about the plan that Marinette wanted to say yes, yet there was a lingering fear that held her back.
"Trust me, Marinette. In three days you'll be flying like a bird, and I'll be swimming like a fish."
"Oh, alright. I'll try it."
"Great! Now, I still have a question for you: if you could have any power, what would it be."
"Invisibility," decided Marinette, "That way when I'm late to school, I can slip into the classroom without my teacher noticing."
"Good choice. Now it's your turn to ask a question."
Dick and Marinette stayed up late that night, reading comics and asking each other questions. By morning, Marinette knew that Dick's favorite color was blue, his favorite cookie was chocolate with chocolate chips, his favorite comic book hero was Hawkeye (because he doesn't have any powers, but still manages to be a superhero), and his favorite circus animal performer was Zitka the Elephant. Dick was nine months older than Marinette, his birthday being October 2nd as opposed to her July 28th birthday.
"It's time to teach you how to do trapeze!" announced Dick as soon as breakfast was over.
"We offered to watch over you today while Gina catches up with her friends," explained Mary. "Now, I know that you're afraid of heights, and I'm not going to force you to do anything that you don't want, but I think it would be a good experience to try trapeze. I promise you, it's completely safe."
"I'll try it."
Dick grinned. "We made a deal last night. If Marinette learns how to do trapeze then I have to learn how to swim."
John raised one eyebrow. "I thought that you swore off swimming for as long as you live."
"I changed my mind. Marinette has to learn how to do trapeze."
Mary and John were both smiling as they exchanged a look. Mary cleared her throat, then said, "Alright. Marinette, I'll get you a leotard, and then you can get dressed."
Given that they were approximately the same size, Dick would be partnered up with Marinette to guide her through the trapeze while she was in the air. Dick and John went ahead to get Dick in position before Marinette started. However, by the time Mary and Marinette got to the circus tent, Marinette was having second thoughts. While her new white leotard was cute, the thought of plummeting to her death while attempting to do trapeze was much less cute. "I'm not so sure about this."
"Marinette, I promise that there is no way you can get hurt. We'll have you strapped into a harness the whole time."
Marinette looked up at Mary, "You promise?"
As she looked up at Mary, the one thing that Marinette's anxious brain noticed was that the older woman had very trustworthy eyes. "Yes, I promise."
Marinette took a deep breath. "Then I want to learn how to do trapeze."
Mary smiled. "Good. Now, the first thing we need to do is get you into your harness. It will be connected to lunge lines to keep you safe in case you fall off the ladder. Then you'll climb the ladder to the top, and we'll attach you to more safety lines. At any point, no matter what happens, you'll be safe if you fall."
Mary helped Marinette into the harness, re-explaining everything as she went along. "Once you get to the top of the ladder, John will guide you through. Dick will be on the other side, mirroring everything you do, and showing you what to do next if you need help. Got it?"
"Yep. Got it." Now, all Marinette had to do was climb the ladder - the extremely tall, extremely scary ladder.
Mary put her hand on Marinette's shoulder. "You can do this, sweetheart. There will be things in life that you're scared of, and sometimes the only way to move forward is to face those fears."
Marinette smiled up at Mary. "Thank you." She got up onto the first rung of the ladder, then the second, then the third, making sure to look up at her destination instead of down at the ground.
"Good job," said John, as Marinette climbed up onto the platform next to him. "Now I'm just going to clip you into the safety lines and unclip you from the lunge lines. There's a specific set of commands that will tell you when to go. Dick is catching you, so he'll say 'Listo' when he's built up enough height in his swing. You then will say 'Listo' when you grab hold of the fly bar. Dick will tell you 'Ready' when you need to prepare to jump, and 'Hep' is the command to jump. When you get to the peak of your swing, Dick will yell "Hep" again. That's your signal to let go of the bar. Dick will grab your hands with his, and swing you back over to the other platform, where Mary will be there to help you back onto the platform. Are you ready?"
Marinette nodded, gazing at the trapeze setup with determination. "I'm ready."
Marinette watched Dick as he took off, holding his fly bar. As he swung, he transitioned from being upright, holding the bar with his hands, to being upside down, holding the bar under his knees, his hands free to catch her. "Listo!" Dick called out.
Marinette grabbed onto the fly bar. "Listo!"
"Ready!"
Marinette bent her knees and took a deep breath.
"Hep!"
Marinette jumped off the platform, swinging on the fly bar as the wind whipped in her face. It was exhilarating. Her fear of heights was the last thing on her mind as she watched the colors of the circus tent fly by. Marinette suddenly understood what Dick meant, when he told her that he wished to be able to fly. She felt incredible, and she never wanted the feeling to end.
"Hep!" Dick called again as he swung closer and closer to her.
Marinette let go. At the same instant, Dick's hands clasped around hers, and she was swinging with him.
"How does it feel?" asked Dick.
"Amazing!" Marinette cheered as they swung back to Dick's platform.
Mary was there to grab Marinette out of Dick's grasp, pulling her firmly onto the platform. Dick flipped himself upright and did a backflip up onto the platform. "Ta-da! How did I do as my first time as a catcher?"
"The both of you did very well. You were an excellent catcher, Dick, and you were a natural flyer, Marinette. I can see the two of you being able to pull off some exceptional stunts someday, if you were to continue trapeze, Marinette."
"I want to. I really do."
Marinette was eager to get back onto the trapeze as soon as possible, but Mary insisted that they stop for lunch first. As they walked out of the circus tent, Marinette pulled Dick aside and whisper-shouted, "That was your first time as a catcher and you didn't think to tell me?"
Dick shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading on his face. "I thought it would make you more nervous."
Marinette spluttered, "You- you-"
"Dick?" suggested Dick with a straight face.
The pair burst into instantaneous laughter, so hard they were gasping for breath as they made their way back to the Grayson's trailer.
------
The next three days passed in a blur. Every morning, Dick and Marinette would start their day on the trapeze. Dick guided Marinette through more and more advanced maneuvers, working as a team to accomplish amazing feats. Every minute they spent together up on the trapeze, Marinette could feel the connection between them growing. After a few hours up on the trapeze, Marinette and Dick would get down, get lunch, and explore the campsite. Marinette got to meet Zitka the Elephant and her calf, Nadia, both of whom were rescued from a roadside petting zoo in Texas and given to Haly after they were deemed too domesticated to be released back into the wild.
Marinette and Dick would get back on the trapeze in the afternoon until Mary and John called them for supper. Then, the circus would perform. Marinette would watch The Flying Graysons perform, amazed by how effortless they made it look. After the performance, Marinette would shower Dick with praise as they walked back to the trailer. Dick pretended that he wasn't flattered, but Marinette could see how much it meant to him, to hear it from her. Though they hadn't known each other for very long at all, there was instant platonic chemistry between the two of them.
Grandma Gina made herself scarce over the weekend, spending most of her time with her old friends from her circus days. However, she always made sure to stop in to watch Marinette on the trapeze, taking pictures to show Tom and Sabine when the couple returned to Paris.
The weekend felt like it lasted both three years and three minutes at the same time; nevertheless, Sunday night still came, and Marinette had to say goodbye.
"I'll just run away with the circus," said Marinette, sitting on the air mattress, staring at her fully packed backpack. "Mary and John would take me in."
Dick shook his head. "They would never allow it, no matter how good you are at trapeze."
Marinette sighed. "I'm really going to miss you."
Dick sighed as well, leaning his head against Marinette's. "This really sucks." After a moment of silently commiserating their terrible fortune, Dick suddenly jumped up. "I know! We can send letters to each other to keep in touch. And I can send you comic books when you need new ones to read."
"But the circus moves around constantly. Where will I send the letters to?"
"I have the schedule of everywhere that we'll be for the next six months. You'll just have to send the letters so that they reach the right destination at the right time."
"That means I can still talk to you!"
And suddenly, goodbye was a lot easier to bear.
------
Haly's Circus performed in Paris twice a year - once in January and once in July - meaning that Marinette and Dick had very little time to spend together in person. However, they did write to each other. Dick would send postcards from all the places he visited and Marinette invested in good stationery to write her letters on. Dick would mail over American comic books, carefully folded and stuffed into envelopes. Marinette would send back handmade patches for Dick to sew onto his leotard. They would write about all the details of their lives that they never mentioned to anyone else. Dick told Marinette that sometimes he wished that he could have had a normal childhood all in one place, but then he would think about all the people and places he would have never met and regret ever wanting anything else. Marinette told Dick that sometimes she worried that no matter how hard she worked to be interesting and funny and worthwhile, she would never be enough for the people around her.
Worried that she would forget how to do trapeze during the six months before Haly's circus returned, Marinette convinced her parents to let her attend the one gymnastics studio in Paris that offered trapeze. They were reluctant at first, worried that Marinette could get hurt, but after a thorough overview of the safety precautions, they finally relented. It was a thirty-minute metro ride, but it was worth it when she got up on the trapeze. Marinette quickly became friends with the other students her age at the studio. Alan, Allegra, and Claude were all two years older than her and lived on the other side of Paris, but they still made time to hang out with Marinette both inside and outside of the studio.
As Marinette grew more and more skilled at trapeze, she decided to try some similar sports. She split her free time between the studio, where she worked on developing her skills at trapeze, gymnastics, and aerial silks, and home, where she worked on designing and creating clothes. It was ambitious for a ten-year-old, but Marinette was determined. She loved trapeze and loved making her own clothes, and she loved those two things equally. She could never give one up, and could barely bring herself to prioritize one over the other when her free time grew scarce.
Marinette had her purpose in life: chasing the feeling of flying as far as it could go and creating things out of nothing but her own imagination. She had all the friends she could ever need, but most important to her was Dick, who, despite their distance, seemed closer to her than anyone else.
------
It was a Thursday, the day that Marinette's world ended. It was sunny and unusually warm for October. For Marinette, the day started off entirely normally. She went to school, ate lunch with Kim and Alix, went to the trapeze studio after school to work on a new trapeze routine, got hot cocoa with Alan, Allegra, and Claude afterward, then went home.
It was the 31st of October, the day that Marinette learned of the deaths of Mary and John Grayson. Mary, with her kind eyes, and John, with his crooked smile, were gone forever. Dick was an orphan.
Marinette was only eleven years old, the day that she learned the details of their deaths. They were on the trapeze, performing the closing act of the Gotham show. Dick was up on the platform, too young for the stunt they were performing. The ropes were cut halfway through. John reached out to catch Mary, going through the motions of a trick they had performed so often it would have felt as natural as breathing for them. John caught Mary. John's ropes snapped. They both plummeted, clipped the edge of the safety nets, going too fast, hitting the ground too hard, dead before the ambulances got there. Marinette couldn't help but picture the bodies of mangled birds that died when they hit the window too hard. Marinette pictured broken bones and broken hearts and in her grief, the only person she wanted was Dick. As much as she was hurting, she knew his grief overwhelmed her. Marinette needed to comfort him. Marinette knew her friend needed her.
Yet, no matter how hard Marinette tried (and she tried so hard, because it was the only thing that gave her any relief from the burning pain in her chest) she couldn't get in touch with Dick. Haly told her that Dick was taken in by Gotham's CPS, and they refused to provide any information about him to the circus. Although the circus was his second home, Gotham refused to return Dick. Haly's Circus was deemed an unfit home. Dick would never be returned.
Every day for months Marinette called Gotham's CPS and begged for any information about her lost friend. She pleaded with them that all she wanted to do was be able to send him a letter. But each time, she was refused.
Three months passed, and by the end of those three months, Marinette felt like her heart had been drained out of her. She had lost Mary and John Grayson, who had taught her not only trapeze but how to overcome fear and be brave. She lost Dick too, but in a different way. There was no way to get in contact with Dick again, and Marinette knew that couldn't spend her whole life mourning the friendship she had lost. She knew that she had to accept it and move on. Still, Marinette never stopped missing him.
Marinette could never quite forget Dick. She remembered him every time she got up on the trapeze, every time she made a new patch that she couldn't send to him, every time she sampled a new pastry for the bakery that she knew he would have loved, every time something big happened and her first instinct was to send a letter about it to him.
Five years without him and Dick still lingered on the edge of her mind. Five years without him and Marinette knew that she would never be at peace until she saw him again.
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My Rumsfeld and Cheney story.
***
I am in my late 20s and have been at my job in the White House for several months. Despite my age, I have been handed the task of helping to organize and arrange the administration’s new initiative to expand the humanities in America’s schools. I have an Ivy League education but I know the real reason I have the job. It is because my father has been lifelong friends with the President and is one of his closest advisors.
But being this is Washington, my father has enemies. At the top of the list are Donald Rumsfeld and his acolyte Dick Cheney — notorious for their scheming, ruthlessness and ways to grab power at the expense of others, and they are eyeing up putting a knife in my father’s back.
I am walking down the hallway. There are two things in my mind. The first is career preservation. If my father is forced out by them, then my career goes down the toilet.
But the main reason is because of something I have finally admitted to myself — that they are both incredibly attractive, and I want to submit to them.
I see Rumsfeld’s hatchet face of a Secretary. She buzzes. I wait for a few minutes, hearing him laughing on the phone. Finally, he has me sent in as he peers over some files and is writing something on a notepad, not paying me any attention, giving me a terse, “How may I help you? I’m not sure I can be of any service to your program.”
I shiver.
“Well, Mr. Rumsfeld,” I say. He perks up a bit hearing the deference in my voice. “I did not come specifically to ask you that. I came today to tell you...” I gulp. “I came to tell you that I know you are coming after my father. And I want to tell you that I know you are going to push him. And that my full loyalty and allegiance is with you.”
He stops writing and looks up.
“I see,” he says, with no emotion at all. “You see, I know my way around Washington. And this is something that I find highly dubious. Some kind of trick. So, you may go, even though you are correct about your father’s fate.”
I knew he would doubt me. So I have him a file.
“Well, in advance of that, I prepared a briefing document for you. It is a lot of information you may find useful to destroy him. Not that you need my assistance.”
He opens the file, adjusts his glasses, and chuckles.
“Well, I know some of this already. But this... I will say, that this could be useful in making my job that much easier.”
He leans back and steeples his fingers.
“Of course, I still do not quite believe you yet.” He swivels his chair. “Come here now and kneel before me. Denounce your father and your entire family and beg me to accept your loyalty.”
I pace around the desk and get on my knees.
“I denounce my father and an ashamed of my family’s name. Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. I beg you. Please accept my allegiance to you. I promise I will serve you in any capacity that you wish, Sir.”
He lets out a Cheshire Cat smile and laughs.
“Very good. That is a good boy.” He then stands and beads to his belt. “Now there is one more chance to show your utmost loyalty. If you do this, and do this well... I will allow you the chance to serve me, as you put it.”
His pants and shorts drop with my assistance. He sits back down kingly, and I begin to take him in my mouth. His hand quickly moves to the back of my head, the weight of his Princeton class ring evident, as he steers me at the pace and depth he wants.
“That’s it. You’re starting to prove your worth to me. I assumed you were as worthless as your old man. But I can see what you think of me. Look up at me and tell me you worship me.”
I pant and look up at his smirking face.
“Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. I worship you like the superior person you are, and have done so since the first time I heard your name, Sir.”
He nods and forced my mouth over his cock again, now gripping my hair snugly and fucking my face. I am moaning as I suck away. Finally, I can hear him gasp a bit. Moaning, and I sense what is coming. He explodes all over my face, and then laughs.
“Let me look at you. The son of my arch-enemy, dripping in my cum.”
I let him look as he smiles at his trophy. Finally, he nods to the tissues, and tells me that I may clean myself up, he will be in touch, and I may take my leave. He then heads right back to his work, paying me no mind.
I head to the door and pause.
“Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. May I please say something before I leave?”
He looks up, nods, and tells me to be quick.
I walk towards his desk and am opposite it. I kneel once again, and this time cup my hands like I am praying.
“Thank you so much for letting me suck your cock, Sir. I know how lucky I am to be able to breath the same air as you, let alone to know I can pleasure you. I hope I have shown my allegiance to you, Sir.”
He looks at me with a stern and serious gaze, pausing as he does.
“You recognized your place and chose wisely to admit it. You’ll be able to rise up the ranks here so long as you remember that you are beneath me and you live to do as I order. Now you may take your leave.”
***
It is a few weeks later and he has finally been in touch. 7 pm. That night. His estate.
I arrive promptly. A maid answers the door. I head him laughing, and I am not sure who. The maid tells him that the guest has arrived.
I walk in and am paralyzed with fear. Flanking him to one side is Dick Cheney. To the other is his wife, Lynne.
“Well, there he is! The ambitious young man who will be a big help to us that I told you about.”
Their mouths drop a bit. Dick just stares at me coldly.
“Surely this is a joke,” Lynne says, hoping it is not the case. Rumsfeld tells her it is not, and then directs me to tell them both what I think about my father, especially in comparison to him, and what I wish for out of my life.
“My father is a pathetic excuse of a man and not even fit to shine your shoes, Mr. Rumsfeld, Sir. The only thing I wish for out of life is to be your faithful servant.”
They both stare at me incredulously, although evil grins cross both of their faces. Rumsfeld smiles widely and orders me to tell them what I did to serve him. So I told them how I sucked his cock and was lucky to wear his cum.
“Now, boy. I want you to know something. It is very hard in DC to find people you can trust and actually respect. Dick and Lynne are the only two people alive I call friends and consider as my equals. And that means that you serve them, too. Do you understand that?”
“Yes. I understand that I also serve Mr. and Mrs. Cheney.”
“Oh, let’s see about that,” Lynne says, grinning as she leans back in her chair.
Lynne and I have crossed paths a few times in my past. I am tasked with the humanities project. She is in charge of the agency that issues our humanities grants. She does not like that I am running this program and let me know about this and has done all she can to prevent me from enacting it unless it meets her goals.
I turn to her.
“Now, I told you that you did not deserve the job you have. You probably thought it is because of your age or who your father is. But that’s not the reason why.” She pauses. “Tell me if you agree with me... but the reason why is because you are an idiot.”
I hear Rumsfeld stifle a laugh. But I have no choice, even though I hesitate.
“You’re right. I’m an idiot, Mrs. Cheney.”
She laughs and nods.
“I am so glad that we cleared that up. I am sure that from now on, you will do as I say. I will tell you the programs I support and how much I want them supported financially. You are going to meet with me once a week with a draft of succinct reasons why you now support exactly as I want, which you will then defend to the president. Of course, I know you lack the intellectual capabilities to perform something like that up to my standards, so you can expect me to red mark your work with a pen like a kindergarten teacher.” She smirks. “And I am sure your father will be in the room, too.”
“Now, there is more than just that. One thing I want you to do — anytime you enter my office, you will show me proper respect by kissing my feet. Why don’t you do that now?”
I steel myself, press my lips to her shoes, and then thank her as she laughs as loud as she ever has in her life. She tells me to stand up and then ask her husband what he thinks.
He just smiles at me. Before I can even say anything, he starts to speak.
“I am so glad that you have recognized this about yourself. It is not easy to admit you are inferior. But I have always seen a lot of potential in you.”
He continues to smile.
“It won’t be too long until your father is back home in Wisconsin where he will be buried. Once that happens, and I inherit his job, I am going to have a need for a chief aide. Usually, this job is in an advisory capacity. But for your role, I envision it more fit for your capabilities. Having me coffee ready. Shining my shoes before any important meetings. Not saying anything beyond ‘Yes, Sir,’ and ‘No, Sir,’ unless I tell you to speak beyond that. Any sort of errand or task me or Lynne or Don want, it gets done. Got that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Now, your peers and people who have worked for your father for a very long time are going to see you hold my coat or wipe off my desk for me. What do you think they will say about this?”
“They’ll mock me, Sir.”
“They will. But deep down inside, they are going to be jealous because each and every single last one of them wants to be in the position you find yourself in — dominated by your superiors.” I can see Rumsfeld not in agreement. “Now, you will also perform the same tasks that Don had you do... only I will not be so gentle. And I will also make sure Don keeps you on his calendar as well so you can continue to serve him as well, being that he made you his toy before sharing you.”
“And don’t worry. I will still find the time and ways for you to correct your work so you can try to come up to even half of our level.”
I meekly say “Thank you.”
Rumsfeld stands up, as does Lynne. He slaps me on the back,
“Just think that your epitaph is going to read about how you were the faithful servant to the most powerful three people who ever lived.” He and Lynne head to the door. “Now get on your knees before Dick.”
I do, and he chuckles and heads to his belt.
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Ooo...can i please request Fem reader who have just been heartbroken by a one sided crush and then one day she met The Joker and he makes her forgot about her crush? Can be nsfw if u want 👀
Hello, anon! Ok so this is longer than I'd originally planned but I was having fun 😆 it’s a little story in the realm of a crackfic that I had a lot of fun with! I hope you like it!!
Self-insert, Ledger Joker x fem reader, crackfic
Word count: 2,121
Warnings: light nsfw, mentions of mild violence
Summary: Sometimes people surprise you with what they'll do when their back is up against a wall, even the Joker.
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Who?
It had to happen today, of all days. You went to grab a coffee this afternoon and what did you see? The man she knew you were obsessed with had his lips on hers. Right across the street from the café, your so-called friend was making out with the guy you’ve had a crush on for years.
He was back in Gotham on a business trip. His stay would have been shorter if it wasn’t for state of things in the city for the past couple of weeks. It seemed your friend decided it was an opportunity to swoop in before you’d gained the confidence to do it yourself. But the kicker is that he’d already agreed to meet you for dinner tomorrow night on top of it. Looks like he gets around. You all had gone to the same high school years ago and things apparently haven’t changed much. Aren’t you too old for games like this? You tried not to dwell on it, you had a job to do, but it’d been burning in your stomach like caustic acid for hours now.
You resisted the temptation to text her, tell her you saw them. No, if they want to play games, you could play your own. So far you hadn’t come up with anything but the old stand-by, the silent treatment. But this needed something bigger.
Your revenge plotting would have to wait, though. A minor injury out on patrol last month landed you a position in booking at MCU just in time for shit to hit the fan. Being a Gotham police officer was nothing like you’d expected it to be. You had your sights set on helping the disadvantaged, the people who couldn’t catch a break in this god forsaken city, who fell victim to loan sharks and got stuck in an endless cycle of debt to the inexplicably powerful Mob presence here. But the amount of red tape and corruption making that hopelessly impossible was enough to make you resent your decision in the first place. By now, you were one drug possession arrest away from never coming back.
Today, however, had taken an interesting turn. Your eyes were glued to the tv screen in the front office where live coverage of the SWAT team’s descent on the Pruitt building captured everyone’s attention. Some were optimistic about it, but most of the talk around MCU was skeptical. “If he’s gotten out of it before, he can do it again.”
But they got him. Back up teams raced out of the precinct and everyone scrambled with nervous excitement to carry out preparations for his arrival.
You weren’t here the last time the Joker had been brought in. You were off duty and you’d found yourself feeling a little jealous that you weren’t. He was all Gotham talked about, particularly around here. You weren’t sure how many times you’d seen his face by now. That face. There was something about the way he looked into the camera, it sent a tingle down your spine. It was a strange mixture of fear and fascination. It left you feeling conflicted, uneasy from the butterflies it stirred in your stomach, like you shouldn’t get this kind of excitement from it, a little spark of thrill you’d managed to keep suppressed.
But that spark was growing dangerously hotter now that you knew he’d be coming here, so soon, nonetheless. You had to keep your composure. The excitement was enough that you’d almost forgotten the betrayal you witnessed this afternoon… almost.
Your heart pounded as you approached the booking office, the sound of shouts and cheering echoing through the halls. What was he going to be like? Would he be angry? Was he going to take an officer hostage like last time? What if it ended up being you? You tried to take a deep breath, fighting the shaking of your hand as you reached for the door handle before carefully opening it.
You froze just past the doorway, letting it shut behind you. He was so… tall. He stood behind the intake desk, at least several inches taller than the SWAT officer removing the cuffs from his wrists behind his back. His expression was blank, casually watching the officers try to do their job while looking like their nerves were about to snap, avoiding touching him as much as they could.
“One move and I won’t hesitate to shoot you,” one officer said, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking.
The Joker didn’t say a word. He just flicked his tongue over his lip and lazily rolled his eyes. Butterflies fluttered into your throat and you fought to swallow them down. You had to try to relax, you can’t let him get to you. Of course, that’s easier said than done, his presence alone was enough to ignite an oddly alluring anxiety within you.
The awkward silence was broken when the on duty detective voiced his intolerance for that kind of behavior before noticing your arrival.
“Nice of you to join us, officer.”
All eyes landed on you, including his. You couldn’t breathe for a moment. That feeling that you got when you saw his picture was nothing compared to the intense wave of adrenaline that struck you like lightning, leaving you in a cold sweat as his eyes connected with yours.
You tried to maintain a professional demeanor, but you couldn’t hide the way color drained from your face as you slowly approached him. Just breathing took an immense amount of concentration. So much that you didn’t hear the detective giving you the case number to record before beginning the booking process.
“Officer! I’m speaking to you!”
You jumped and broke your gaze away from Joker’s dark rimmed eyes to quickly grab the form as the detective mumbled under his breath. Your hand was shaking again as you tried to breathe normally and recorded the number then in the next line, “Name, Unknown. Alias, The Joker.”
A shiver trickled its way down your back as you could feel eyes on you again and you looked up from the form to see him carefully watching you. Your breath hitched and you quickly tore your eyes away to stare at the form as heat bloomed in your cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. You’d been avoiding talking with anyone about him for weeks and no matter how much you denied it, now you knew why.
The other officers took his long purple coat and suit jacket off of his shoulders, removing a variety of knives from his clothing before turning him around to face you. You kept your eyes down, taking the cuffs from your belt to hold them in your hands, ready to place them on his wrists. A knot has tied itself around your insides and grew tighter the longer you stood there and stared at his hands, stained with traces of white, black, and red paint. Your face burned hotter, and your heart pounded relentlessly in your throat, but you had to try to remain calm. If you kept showing them how nervous you were, you’d be booted off of the case and another officer would take your place. This was pure torture, but you still didn’t want that to happen.
You were surprised by a need for more. He already had you trapped in this confusing push and pull to give in to the unusual attraction you had to him even though you knew it was wrong. It had taken you this long to realize that was it. A deep seated attraction had been sitting in the back of your mind and now it was rapidly taking over your body.
Goosebumps prickled your skin when your fingertips grazed his bare wrists, clicking the latch on the cuffs in place. This was like nothing you’d ever felt before, the rush in your veins, the heat in your stomach. You managed to keep the exhilaration spreading through your body from boiling over as you lead him to the line up wall for his intake photo.
He stood in front of the digital camera, holding the placard displaying his alias with the date and case number, his green hair swept hastily out of his face and infamous greasepaint smeared wildly. When you looked at the screen to capture the image, the knot in your belly unraveled. His gaze focused directly up into the camera lens and straight at yours, the corner of his scarred mouth tugging into a smirk. Your heart pounded in your ears and you could feel yourself shudder as rational thought slipped away, drowned out by a pervasive impulse. You knew he was dangerous, of course, and you couldn’t explain it but, you didn’t care. The fire he’d ignited within you was in control now.
A nervous buzz spread from your hands and down your arms before you looked up from the screen to meet his gaze, returning a subtle smile. Joker lifted his eyebrow and his grin stretched across his face until the other officers approached and he let it fall with a swipe of his tongue across his lip. That was all it took. You let those tempestuous flames engulf you and now you weren’t going to do anything to stop them.
Everything felt slowed down, like you were dreaming, feverish with this sudden and powerful desire when you kicked the door to the private search room open, pulling him inside with you and locking the door. You had precious few minutes before they’d find you. You quickly unlocked his handcuffs and spun around to put your back against the door, gripping the lapels of his vest when you stopped and stared up at his face as your stomach dropped. Why did you just do that?
But the feeling of regret didn’t last long. A low chuckle rumbled in Joker’s chest before he leaned on his hands, placed against the door on either side of you and brought his face inches from yours. Your breath huffed over his lips and the familiar feeling of arousal swelled between your legs as you felt his heat wash over you.
“Needed somewhere, uh, private to perform your search, officer?”
His lips hovered over yours as you smiled and answered softly, “I figured we’d start with the oral cavity search.”
His giggles were muffled when you crashed your lips into his, surrendering to the spontaneous and intense lust you found yourself swimming in. Your heart soared when he kissed you back, raising the intensity and allowing your tongue into his mouth as his hands moved to grip the sides of your face and your eyes fluttered closed.
He hummed when you wrapped your hands around his neck to lace your fingers in his hair and pressed your body against his. You could feel his size beneath the fabric of his pants and your breath hitched. This was one of those moments that didn’t feel like it was really happening, but it was. His hands slid down your sides to grip your waist and your mouths separated to catch your breath.
His eyes traveled up and down your body before another devious smile sent a shiver down your back.
“You. How about you come with me, hm?” he said, his eyes flickering to the gun in your belt.
Your stomach fluttered and you stared back at him, flinching when fists started pounding on the other side of the door and voices shouted. You shouldn’t trust him, you knew you shouldn’t. But trust hasn’t gotten you much in the past, has it? Besides, you didn’t have to trust him. Whatever happens is going to happen at this point so you might as well enjoy the ride. You’d already let it go this far. You swallowed your nerves and nodded, holding on tight to his shoulders.
Another chuckle made you bite your lip before he leaned in and purred in your ear, “Follow my lead, doll.”
You straddled his lap in the back of an unmarked van speeding down the street only moments later, his tongue in your mouth as your hands slid down his torso to the button on his pants. Was he always this lucky? Or did he know this would happen all along? Of course, this was a crazy thought but nothing that had happened today was sane. He held your own gun to your head and made his escape like it was planned that way. Either way, you’d easily forgotten all about the betrayal that felt so insignificant now.
In fact, tomorrow you’d receive a text from the traitor herself bragging to you about hooking up with your now former crush and your response, short and sweet, was “who?”
Taglist! @youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns @jslittlebirdie @drreidsconverse @vipervixxen
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passable-talent · 4 years
Text
| part 1 | part 2 |
this storyline might end up being long 👀 so in order for me to get to other requests I’m gonna not continue it until someone requests an extension again. thanks y’all 💕💕
edit: EIGHT MILLION PEOPLE HAVE ASKED FOR THIS TO BE CONTINUED IT WILL BE U ITS OKAY
edit: | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 |
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Rice seemed to be the morning meal. There was an abundance of it, and it was filling, and you wouldn’t complain, as you had food at all. What was weird, though, was standing beside Zuko as you waited for Katara to scoop you your serving.
As soon as you got your portion you left his side, making a beeline to Toph, sitting down beside her on the edge of the fountain.
“I’ve been practicing my seismics,” you told her, and she didn’t much acknowledge you other than a quick nod. You weren’t wearing shoes, as you tended not to in the morning, and you pressed the flat of your foot into the floor.
“Watch this,” you said, and you closed your eyes as you put a scoop of rice to your mouth. At the same time, you dug your toe into the ground, sending a small stone up under Sokka.
He shot up from the floor and rubbed his behind, scowling. Toph, on the other hand, burst out laughing.
“Toph!” Sokka shouted, a slight waiver in his voice with the cracking of his throat.
“It wasn’t me!” She said back, still laughing. Sokka turned his gaze to you, almost glaring, and you gave him back a charming, innocent smile.
Despite yourself, your eyes flicked for a moment to Zuko, and you found him with a smile on his face.
You had missed that smile, and you hadn’t known it until now.
Aang and Zuko disappeared for a while to rediscover Zuko’s firebending, which you thought was hilarious. Of course he loses his firebending, right when you need him to be a firebender. You spend the few days they were gone practicing your earthbending and wrestling with your emotions, but you got no further than you’d gotten the night he came and talked to you.
You still cared for him. And that made you angry sometimes.
When he returned with Aang, once again capable of firebending, you were glad that Aang once again had his teacher. But you were also glad that Zuko was back. You, just like Katara, were slowly learning to laugh at him, or with him, depending on the day. You were letting your guard down, bit by bit, and allowing yourself to look at him more and more.
There was this... tension whenever the two of you were in the same room. It was like neither of you were quite willing to speak first, out of pride or awkwardness or something of the like. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling, but to you it felt like there was something just out of reach, blocking you from taking a step closer to forgiving him. It frustrated you, because you did miss the friendship you once had with him.
One night, while the rest of the group were sitting around a fire, you decided to take your anger out on some rocks. So you travelled up the cliff side, to where you could pitch stones around without worrying about destroying the temple. You began by practicing your forms, the strong stances that earthbending martial arts were known for, but with the adrenaline and anger you felt you soon moved to different techniques. Earthbending’s kicks were very contact based- as though you would hit the body and stop. But your lean stature made it easier for you to practice other types of kicks, those that spun or involved jumps. It made the rocks move differently, but you knew that if you could master the style of earthbending that fit your frame, you’d be more unpredictable in battle.
That was the logic. Sometimes, you just needed to spin and jump and land with an impact. Sometimes you just needed to stomp and pretend it was the fire lord’s face underneath your foot, or Azula you launched that boulder into instead of a tree. You tried to picture one of your boulders knocking Zuko down a few pegs, but you couldn’t. He was being so kind- he made tea for the group and tried to make you all laugh. He helped Aang learn firebending, and offered to light a fire in your bedroom to keep you warm on a particularly cold day.
You couldn’t hold a grudge against him. Your grip on your anger was wearing away, and leaving behind what you realized was the root of it all, leaving behind that wall that had blocked you from stepping closer to him.
Fear.
You were afraid of how close you had once been to him. You were afraid that it would be all too easy to fall into old habits, and you’d be left betrayed once again. You were afraid of how much he meant to you, all this time.
And fear made you lash out.
You spun and dug your knuckles into the ground to launch a few stones into the air, the thit as they impacted with a tree satisfying to your ears. The rumbling of the earth as you pulled it’s rock from the ground made you feel better, and the slight stinging pain in your joints reminded you of your power, because even if you couldn’t control Zuko and your emotions, you could control the earth.
“Y/N?” Zuko’s voice startled you so deeply that a hunk of rock was punched in his direction before you even registered it was him, at which point you pulled your fist back and threw it to the ground, reversing the stone headed right for Zuko and burying it back in the dirt.
“Sorry,” you said, breathing hard with eyes wide. You’d almost smacked him. With a boulder. That would’ve been bad. “You scared me.” He laughed worriedly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head.
“Well you got me back,” he said, looking for a moment at the stone you’d put back into the ground after almost flattening him with it. He turned his gaze back to you. “Can I tell you something that you can’t tell anyone else?” You furrowed your eyebrows, but nodded.
“I have a feeling Sokka is going to do something very stupid tonight, and I’m not going to let him go alone. So I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, and I didn’t want to go without saying goodbye.” All sorts of emotions came rushing up your throat, and you frowned.
“What’s he trying to do that you don’t know how long it’s going to be?” You asked, before you could stop yourself. Knowing that he may not answer that question, you followed it up with a few more. “Is it dangerous? Do you think you’ll be gone more than a day?”
“There’s no way to know,” he said, and looked to the side. “It might be a few days.” You swallowed hard, one hand coming up to squeeze your other bicep. There was silence, for a moment, other than the croaking of the badger frogs in the forest.
“I, uh,” you let slip out, and you swallowed hard. “Just stay safe and come back, okay?” Your eyes caught his, and you found vulnerability swimming in them. You knew he must’ve seen the same.
“Yeah,” he said, and turned to renter the temple. You watched him walk away for a moment, overwhelming worry and dread overtaking you and keeping you rooted to your spot.
“Zuko?” You finally forced out, and he turned back to you. You broke from your stance and ran forward, wrapping his torso in a hug before you thought enough to stop yourself. You closed your eyes tightly, as though if you didn’t see him, you wouldn’t know how he reacted.
His arms came around your shoulders and he held you tightly, resting his nose down and onto your shoulder.
“Thanks for telling me,” you said, and he nodded. You pulled away and let him go, your hand pressed to the dirt to sense him as he travelled back down to the temple.
He was gone the next morning, along with Sokka. You kept your mouth shut, knowing that it wasn’t a fishing trip at all, and waited, simmering with the knowledge he’d given you. Your curse was the worst of all, as you knew that they were doing something dangerous, but you didn’t know what. You could only hope that they’d come back. And when they did, they brought with them Hakoda and Suki. It was a great surprise, and you hugged him when he returned.
You were relieved to see him alive.
He hugged you back, tightly, as though he was struggling with something, and you watched him when he pulled away.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, not meeting your eyes.
“Okay, why?”
“I ran into Mai.”
-🦌 Roe
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