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gojuo · 6 months

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Are you the strongest because you are gojo satoru or are you gojo saturo because you are the strongest? I never understood why geto said that to gojo, can you explain to me? Did he want to give gojo a reality check?

Actually, he wanted to give Gojo an identity crisis lmao. In other words, what Geto's saying is that: Are you you? ("Are you the strongest because you are Gojo Satoru?") Or are you letting your strength define your sense of self? ("Are you Gojo Satoru because you are the strongest?").

In that moment, Geto was completely defeated/resigned/pessimistic (I can't find the right word arghggg) because he realized that what he wanted to achieve, he never could. But Gojo totally could because in the year between Riko's death and that moment, he had surpassed anyone and everything, and had become — for a lack of a better term — an untouchable god (Infinity automatically on at all times; RCT & RCT: Red; Hollow Purple; Domain Expansion mastered; in the process of mastering brain healing 24/7; etc.).

What Toji did to Gojo was turn him from The Strongest to Stronger Than The Strongest (omgggg romance <3 Tojigo agenda never ends). Essentially, Gojo had become far stronger than Geto, a fellow Special Grade and part of "The Strongest Duo", was and had risen up to be in a league completely on his own. This event in his life + Geto going rogue gave way to the worsening of Gojo's identity crisis.

That identity crisis I'm talking about is Gojo's lifelong status as "The Strongest" and his role in Jujutsu Society from the second he was born.

"The curses' increasing strength... At that moment, I understood the reason why! It's because of him! It's because of Satoru Gojo!! It's like when a seemingly unbeatable track-and-field record gets broken! Or when figure skaters suddenly have to add more spins to their jumps due to a single athlete's prowess!! When Satoru Gojo was born... the balance of the world was altered!"

From the second Gojo was born, he was not allowed to be Gojo Satoru (himself; "Are you the strongest because you are Gojo Satoru?"). He was pushed into a role by his birth family, his clan, other clans, and the entirety of Jujutsu society. Gojo was never just Satoru, the child, or Satoru, the person. From birth on, he was the Six Eyes, the Limitless ("Are you Gojo Satoru because you are the strongest?"). The bounty on his head was already over a hundred thousand before he turned 10 years old.

When Satoru Gojo was born, the balance of the world was altered.

This meant that he was raised as The Strongest, a role not only pushed onto him by the society and family he was born into, but by fate itself (the Tengen affair — remember that the Six Eyes is connected to Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessels through fate. A fate broken by the only one who lives outside of it: Toji Zen'in the man with absolutely no cursed energy at all. TOJIGO AGENDA NEVER ENDS GRAAAAAAAHHH)

Being raised as a thing instead of a person would lead any child to an identity crisis. He says it himself in ch. 236

He feels like nobody truly understands him, because there is nobody on his level of being. Nobody can stand beside him because of the disparity in strength between him and everybody else. He feels like he can't ever let anybody inside. He feels this way because Gojo defines his own sense of self — his identity and his own existence — through the strength he holds ("Are you Gojo Satoru because you are the strongest?"). Because he was raised to think like that. Because he was pushed into the role of "The Strongest" by fate, his family, all of society before he was able to define himself as just himself.

Gojo going to Jujutsu High in his teens would have been the first time he actually spent meaningful time with people who live outside of rigid clan society and culture. Geto, Shoko, Nanami and Haibara, none of them are from clans, so none of them would have treated him as if he were the Six Eyes and the Limitless first, human second. They would have treated him as just Gojo Satoru, their classmate in high school. Like a normal person. His belief system would have been challenged for the first time since his identity wouldn't be characterized by how strong he is, by his role as The Strongest in Jujutsu society. He'd just be another kid to his classmates.

Now that doesn't mean that his issues with his identity and Jujutsu society's dogma he was force-fed since birth were all fixed and everything was dandy, it just means that that line from Geto and his betrayal worsened what was already there and continuously reinforced and reaffirmed by Jujutsu society's penchant in making him a pariah (Nanami participated in this after Haibara's death btw, "Can't we just leave everything to him from now on?").

Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?

Geto asked this because he was angry at the world, defeated by it, and hurt by what Gojo had just said to him.

Because the thing is... Gojo is totally capable of killing all of humanity and creating a world only made up of only sorcerers. Gojo is The Strongest. Far stronger than Geto is. In the year between Riko's death and this moment, Gojo had far surpassed Geto in strength. The Strongest Duo — something that was a double-edged sword since it reaffirmed Gojo's belief that the measure of one's strength and prowess defines one's sense of identity BECAUSE there is now another Special Grade that is as strong as him, on the same level as him, therefore feeding into his confirmation bias — was no more. Gojo achieved enlightenment, Geto did not. Therefore, he was upset by Gojo saying that Geto wanting to create a world with only sorcerers was meaningless and impossible. And so Geto hit him where it hurt: Are you Gojo Satoru? Or are you just the role assigned to you?

Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru? Are you your own person?

Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest? Or are you just a thing? A thing called The Strongest?

The second Gojo was born, he was dehumanized. Not just by his family, not just by Jujutsu society, but by the world itself. He was born into a world that adjudged him to be a thing — in his own words: an adored flower standing far above humanity and therefore untouchable in every sense of the way — not a person, an actual human being with his own identity. His time in high school, where he lived and existed outside of the confines of clan culture for a short period of time, was probably the first time in his life where he felt human. There were kids his age who weren't raised in clans, who weren't fed Jujutsu dogma from the second they started breathing, who didn't know him as The Strongest. He was just a fellow kid. And there was Geto, who was a Special Grade just like him, someone that Gojo would have categorized to be the same as him and who he would have projected his uncertainty about his own identity onto as well (because of his confirmation bias).

And then Toji comes along and changes his life forever. It's so ironic (and also the biggest reason why I love this ship so much), the one and only person who lives outside of the confines of fate (zero cursed energy) destroys and redefines the one person who came into existence precisely because of said fate (the Six Eyes is born because fate calls for them to be born in order to help Tengen with the merger). Gojo dies and comes back to life enlightened. All because "a monkey who couldn't even use Jujutsu" killed him. The poetry of it all, my god....

Okay anyways I'm getting distracted (Tojigo agenda never ends) what I'm trying to say is that Geto went through a complete different experience than Gojo did, and got left behind basically. While Gojo grew stronger and stronger (not necessarily a good thing for him), Geto went off the deep end and stayed stagnant on the powerscale.

This happening to Geto leads to his betrayal + him asking that question which in turn led to the worsening of Gojo's identity crisis. Because Gojo chose to define himself through the strength he holds and not through being his own person. And that belief only got reaffirmed more and more because Gojo truly became untouchable, truly reached enlightenment and lived on a plane not a single person could reach, not even the other person who was also called "The Strongest". So when Geto asked him, "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?" he's asking, who are you really? Are you a person who happens to be the Strongest also? Or are you The Strongest, and nothing else?

Gojo, throughout his entire life up until that point, was raised to be and treated by everyone as the latter. During high school and his time together with another "The Strongest" around, he found a taste of humanity within his own self. Geto then goes rogue and asks this question, and Gojo decides that yes indeed, he is the latter. He validates his own dehumanization through making that choice.

And what's awful about this is that, he didn't need to do allat. He didn't need to isolate himself, he didn't need to decide that no one would or could understand him, nor did he need to resign himself to the role of "adored flower" that was pushed onto him since birth. Why? Well, Shoko says it best here in ch. 220:

Gojo made the choice to let his sense of self be defined by his status as The Strongest ("Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?"), when that shit wasn't needed at all. But as a child, when all the people that surround you, the people who gave birth to you, the people who raised you all parrot the same shitty idea that he is The Strongest The Strongest the strongest the strongestthestrongestthestrongestthestrongestthestrongest, and then that kid escapes to high school where he has a few years of being allowed to be a normal teenager and then his BFF decides to become Jujutsu Hitler and throw that The Strongest crap back into his face right where it hurts? Well, what did anyone expect? It's just fucking sad.

And that's also the reason why I hated his death and the conclusion to his character, because Gojo dying without ever getting over being "The Strongest" while he was alive means that his character stayed stagnant throughout the entire story. And I cannot explain to you enough how much I hate that. But that's a topic for another time, so I'm ending this analysis that got way longer than I intended here. I hope this helped you understand that scene better ♥

#there are 35 becauses in this post oh my dayssss im so sorry i just really cant be bothered to clean this post up 😭😭😭#this got so long it's literally 1.7k words i cant believe it ... it was just supposed to be one paragraph...#this is more a word vomit than it is a piece of meta & like i said i cannot be bothered to proofread this so im sorry if i repeated myself #a lot and rambled on too much. it is what it is.#gojo #jjk #jjk meta #anonymous #answered

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erikalentz · 2 years

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Half Moon Datas #1

(This posts will serve to explain some details of the AU, be it characters or events.)

Trivias about Emmet:

Emmet was completely devastated by his brother’s disappearance. Not only he found himself suddenly alone after what was supposed to be a normal day, but he didn’t even know where or how Ingo disappeared. However, he did "felt" Ingo’s transportation to Hisui by the space-time rift in the form of a panic attack, even though he didn’t know about it at the time.

When the search for Ingo seems fruitless, the police decide to stop looking for him and closed the case. Emmet breaks entirely after hearing that decision and deeply sunk into depression. He couldn’t smile nor battle anymore, and he doesn’t even find the strength to get out of his apartment to go to the subway. His despair was so strong that he almost threw himself off his building, but he ended up changing his mind and didn’t go through it.

After that, he called Elesa to tell her how much he felt lost and horribly bad. The Gym Leader stayed with him the whole night, comforting and reassuring him that she won’t give up on him because he is one of her most precious friends. She didn’t care to do an all-nighter ; Emmet needed her, and she’ll be there for him.

Drayden got wind of what happened that night shortly after by Elesa. Given that he knew the Subway twins since they were kids (by being a friend of their family), he cares a lot for them and considered them as his nephews. He didn’t wait long to support Emmet too.

Emmet followed therapy sessions on his own volition to get out of the spiral of grief, despair and guilt he was in. He was later diagnosed with anxiety issues, and took medicines to treat it.

Although it isn’t visible when the twins are together or when he is with his closed ones, Ingo’s disappearance put in light how much Emmet have a low opinion of himself. He oftenly wonders if he’s really worthy to take care of the Battle Subway on his own since it’s supposed to be hold by two bosses, even though he proved more than once to be the driving force of the facility. He is aware of his anxiety issues and he blames himself when he thinks he bothers others because of them (especially Elesa and Drayden). He slowly grew out of it thanks to the presence of his friends and his new romantic relationship with Elesa.

As the months passed, Emmet and Elesa grew closer to each other. The Gym leader oftenly goes to the Battle Subway to check on him or having lunch with him when she has free time, and Emmet will go to her shootings place to give her a hi and even co-model with her, to the point that it more or less becomes his second job. As they spent a lot of time together, both of them started to realize that they feel more than friendship to the other (Emmet will take some time to admit it because of his anxiety issues). When both of them came to terms with it, they ended up getting together. They have a healthy and platonic relationship together.

Ingo’s disappearance made him lose all interest in Pokemon Battle. It was too painful for him to challenge a trainer without his brother by his side. That’s why he closed the Solo and Multi Battle lines and gives up his post as Subway Master, only staying as the head of the subway. It’s still possible to battle against him if someone asks him, but it will depend on if he wants it or not.

That said, even after stopping battling in the subway, Emmet remains a competent and attentive boss. He ensures everyone’s safety in the facility, took the time to help lost children or Pokemon and doesn’t neglect his employees’ health.

As the (retired) Duo Battle Master of the Battle Subway, Emmet is highly respected as a battler and proved to be very intelligent and strategic. He can perfectly handle himself in solo, but he becomes unbeatable when challenging a trainer with someone by his side.

Emmet gained a huge amount of strength thanks to Drayden’s long-run training to take care of his body after his breakdown. His signature move is his kicks, and they are so powerful that they can knock out anyone who stands in his path.

Ingo’s Chandelure often accompany him when he’s out of work. Both of them got along well and support each other.

He is a good musician. He plays piano and guitar just fine, and his singing voice displays a lot of emotions. Only the people close to him knows about it.

He possesses a vast knowledge of the history of Unova, be it ancient times and past customs, having read all kinds of old books and archives he could found about his birth country. Given that he was in recovery for his breakdown, it leave him with a lot of free time to read.

He managed to smile again after his breakdown, but he didn’t keep it all the time like before. Most of his genuine smiles appeared when he is with Elesa, his Pokemon or when he helps others.

He met a wild and badly wounded Zorua and Shinx during one of his break day a few weeks after Ingo’s disappearance. Emmet couldn’t let them in this state, so he decided to take them immediately to the Pokemon Center of Nimbasa City. After the two Pokemon healed, they both felt grateful towards him and stayed with him since then. Emmet grew fond of them and forms a strong bond with the little mons. When they evolve into Zoroark and Luxray, they become some of the strongest Pokemon of his team.

Drayden gave him a dragon egg after starting his recovery as a get-well gift. A Gible hatched from it, and Emmet take good care of him just like Zorua and Shinx. That’s how he added a Garchomp to his team alongside Zoroark and Luxray.

#submas #subway boss emmet #emmet #elesa #drayden #gym leader elesa #gym leader drayden #pokemon black and white #pokemon legends arceus #subway masters #subway bosses #pokemon elesa #pokemon drayden #half moon au

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crypticcodexcreations · 1 year

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No Wrong Heroes: The Mistakes

Another scene of this WIP that came out too good not to share, once again going under the cut for length, but also for death and heavily implied gore. Hope the formatting on this one looks a bit nicer!

“Hey! Thor!” Hercules glared at the only member of his team left. Thor groaned. “What, Herc?” He didn’t know what he’d done to piss off his partner, but Thor watched Hercules pace, letting him have the time to physically work his frustrations out. “Why the fuck were we bothering with Michael and Apollo anyways? We’re the real heroes, we both know that.” Thor nodded a bit, just letting him keep talking for now. “Michael wasn’t the real powerhouse. He must’ve learned that when he went off on his own. Probably too ashamed to show his stupid face around us now.” Thor set down the glass he’d been drinking from before Hercules had come up to him, standing from his seat at the bar he’d found. “Hey, usually I try not to interrupt when you’re fuming like this, because you turn into an insufferable prick when I do, but I haven’t got a fucking clue where you’re going with this. So how about you make your damn point already?”

Hercules paused, sighing and shaking his head. “My point is that not only are you the only person I can trust here, Thor, but you and I? We’ve beaten everything that’s challenged us so far, except each other. We’re unbeatable! So, since Michael clearly failed since he’s not better than us like he thinks, how about we prove to him that we’re the real heroes? We’ll go do what he couldn’t and make him apologize for calling us useless meat heads!” Hercules grinned at Thor, who stood there for a few moments, letting it all sink in. “You trust me?” Hercules laughed. “Of course I do! You’ve argued with me the most and never once thought of leaving me!” Thor stared back at him, finding the huge grin on Hercules’s face to be infectious, starting to laugh with him. He slapped a hand on Hercules’s shoulder. “You know what, you’re right! That pompous jackass can get fucked and kiss our asses once we save this place! You know where we need to go?” Hercules grinned back at Thor. “Yup!” He pulled an old scroll out of his bag. “This thing’s a map that I got some twerp in town to hand over. The chicken was too scared to use it! Now let’s go, I wanna kick this loser’s teeth in!” Thor laughed, absolutely beaming. “Lead the way, Herc! I wanna put an end to the stupid fuck who thought he could do something as cliche as destroy the world.” The two started off, laughing along the way, talking about how they were going to save this world once and for all.

The dark portal at the mouth of the cave made the duo hesitate. Something about it felt far too ominous. They looked at each other, their bravado having slipped away somewhat. Then Hercules grinned, that old determined look returning to his eyes, and Thor smiled back, knowing that there was no way he could back out now and let Hercules face things alone. They had been in this together for so long. They could handle whatever they ended up facing as long as they were together. They nodded at each other, turning back to the ominous portal, Hercules cracking his knuckles before the two charged through. Soon enough, they stumbled to a stop. According to the map, this cave shouldn’t be all that deep. They couldn’t see very far, but what they could see seemed eerily empty.

Thor tensed, shifting slightly closer to Hercules, shifting towards a more back to back position, but not quite there. Thor was the first to speak. “Think that map could’ve been a fake? The idiot you got it from a liar or something?” Hercules looked around, trying to see any sign of life. “No, seemed genuine to me, but-“ The shadows beneath their feet suddenly stirred, lifting up and catching Thor, slamming him into the rocky ceiling above. “THOR!” Hercules tried to turn, swinging at the shadows. His punches just went right through. He yelped as a tendril caught him around the waist and flung him against the wall. Hercules saw Thor, on the ground, scrambling back to his feet as the air left his lungs. The shadows now came alive with movement, attacking them both rapidly in all sorts of forms now. The both of them came to the realization quickly that nothing they did seemed to phase the creature in the shadows at all. Hercules and Thor scrambled to each other, trying to at least have each other’s backs, only to consistently be forcibly separated again. It didn’t take long before the two were left struggling for their every breath.

A voice finally addressed them, echoing from all around them. “I would have thought that friend of yours would have warned you. If I strike you down, you will not see another day in either world. How rude of him after I was kind enough to tell him that. I suppose that’s typical of you humans, only looking out for yourselves.” The darkness started to shift again and Thor’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what it was doing before Hercules did. “Move!” Thor didn’t wait for his companion to listen though, shoving him aside as parts of the ceiling started to crumble on top of them. Thor shrieked as one smashed his leg. The voice chuckled as Hercules scrambled to free Thor’s leg. “Our business ends here This cave has served me well to teach you impudent humans not to mess with me.”

Hercules tried to help Thor stand, but no matter how hard he tried, Thor couldn’t do it. “Herc, get out of here!” Hercules glanced between the portal and the shifting darkness, picking up Thor in spite of his protests. “What are you doing?! You can’t move fast enough carrying me!” Hercules was silent, moving as fast as he could as the cave started to completely come down around them.

For a moment, Thor thought he had been wrong and they were going to make it, but this time, he was the one not seeing something. Hercules glanced at the ceiling before looking back to Thor. “This is going to hurt.” Thor looked up at him, confused. “Wh-“ He couldn’t finish his question before Hercules threw him through the portal. The last thing Thor saw before the portal obstructed his vision was the chunk of the ceiling that would have crushed them both otherwise. Then there was pain that robbed him of all of his awareness as his injured body had a rude introduction to the forest floor outside. He didn’t know if he screamed, the pain robbing him of any brain power to process anything else, but when he did start to notice his surroundings again, he felt his throat burning.

Slowly, he started to process the world around him and realized that the portal was gone, leaving it a normal cave. One that he could see into. A view that allowed him to see what had happened to his friend.

“HERCULES!” The burning in his throat only got worse, but he couldn’t stop himself. He kept screaming, Hercules’s name becoming more and more garbled and unintelligible as he tore his own throat apart. He didn’t notice the moisture on his face until a hand covered his eyes, adding a pressure that drew his awareness to his own tear soaked skin and aching body.

“You don’t want to look…” He slowly recognized the quiet voice next to his ear as Fenrir’s. Now that he had stopped screaming, his voice refused to work, even as he tried. “Don’t speak… Let Apollo heal you… Just stay still and rest…” Thor tried to shake his head, but without the sight of his best friend’s body, or anything for that matter, he couldn’t help but be aware of all his pains, losing the strength to try to fight against Fenrir’s attempts to calm him.

He started to openly sob as he was gently pulled into Fenrir’s arms, the warmth of his touch surprisingly soothing. “Shhh…” One hand wrapped gently around him, avoiding his wounds while the other stayed firmly over his eyes. Soon enough, Thor could feel the familiar tingling sensation of Apollo’s healing magic flowing through his body. Thor sobbed, leaning into Fenrir’s chest, eventually burying his face in his shirt. With both hands available, the hug became far more all-encompassing. Thor had no idea how long he sat there in Fenrir’s arms, but he sobbed until he fell into the darkness of sleep.

#No Wrong Heroes #writing excerpts

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niannianyabao · 1 year

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Bromance with a Silent B: The Lupin/Jigen Manifesto

In the halls of anime history, there’s a duo well and truly ingrained as legendary partners: the Kirk and Spock of con artists, the Holmes and Watson of hallowed heist planners, two men so inextricably associated with one another that to mention one without the other is all but unthinkable. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Arsené Lupin III and Daisuke Jigen. No fan would question the unbreakable bond between the two. Any argument after that is only a matter of degree, time and place.

Now, when a series has been running as long as Lupin III, passing through the hands of so many formats and directorial visions, you can pretty much find fodder to feed whatever ship you like. Pick through long enough, and there’s a clip to suit your needs. This isn’t a matter of 26 episodes, or a few movies, or even a collection of manga volumes. No, we’re talking hundreds of hours of content perpetuating from the late 60s right on into the present day. And in light of that fact, we need to do a bit of structural housekeeping. Rather than attempting to analyze every piece of Lupin media, this essay will go more broad strokes with specific titles mentioned where applicable. It’s divided, for simplicity, into the following sections:

I. Three Jackets, One Gun: The Characters II. A Wink and an Offer – Episode 0: First Contact III. The Woman Called Fujiko Mine and Parallel Narrative IV. Flirtation, Fidelity, and Fujiko

I. Three Jackets, One Gun: The Characters

Explaining Lupin III (the character or the series) is not unlike trying to take apart a pomegranate: it’s a fairly simplistic whole on the outside, but split it open and suddenly there are a million little chambers that may or may not connect to one another. However, the following can generally be taken to be true: Arsené Lupin III is a gentleman thief, a title that he’s carried (along with his name) down the generations from his famous French grandfather.

Lupin is a hyper-competent thief and master of disguise. He’s always thorough in researching his jobs, often preparing plenty of gadgets and a loyal crew to help carry off his elaborate heists. He values the thrill of theft more than the actual objects, and for that reason he delivers calling cards to his intended victims. More to that end he lives to amuse himself – a trait that, along with his nonchalance toward killing, changes its tone from series to series. It varies from the Bugs Bunny goofball of Red Jacket, to the Joker-esque capriciousness in The Woman Called Fujiko Mine, to the theatrical gentleman of The Castle of Cagliostro. Despite his skills it’s proportionately rare to see him land a treasure for keeps, for he’s often brought low by his lust for women and his inflated ego (both of which are easily manipulated by his sometimes-lover Fujiko Mine, to Jigen’s constant irritation).

Daisuke Jigen (almost certainly a pseudonym, since his backstories fairly consistently portray him as starting out under the American mafia) is Lupin’s near-constant companion and most reliable partner. While his strongest talents are as an unbeatable gunman, he’s also a skilled driver of whatever vehicle a job requires, and takes on his share of disguises when necessary. He’s also the most likely member of the team to shut down Lupin’s ego, always happy to call him on a bad decision or a prideful blunder. It would seem his past led him to cross paths with most of the world’s elite assassins, as he can always be counted to recognize the latest deadly foe that comes knocking.

Jigen is gruff and can generally be found relaxing (which has earned him the fan nickname “Lounge King”), with a sarcastic sense of humor and an easily riled temper. He’s deeply distrustful of women, which is no doubt helped by the fact that his love interests have a 99% likelihood of ending up traitorous or dead by the time credits roll (excluding the ones to whom he gets cast as a father-figure), and especially dislikes Fujiko. He’s also a chain smoker, only found without a cigarette when the danger at hand is truly serious.

There’s no concrete timeline for how long Lupin and Jigen have worked together. One chapter of the manga cast them as childhood friends only to wave that idea aside, while the anime adaptations have offered several variations on how they came together. What is clear is that since then they’ve been inseparable. While the other members of Lupin’s gang come and go as their own goals dictate, Jigen is shown to travel and live with the thief pretty much full time.

Actually, “not concrete, but…” pretty much describes the relationship in episodes not specifically devoted to their bond. It’s all in the little things: the fact that Lupin often refers to his partner in crime as Jigen-chan, an endearment saved only for the gunman and Fujiko; the way the two can communicate elaborate plans with only a look or by speaking the other’s name; their extreme physical ease around each other, with the screenshot above hardly denting the wealth of examples (not to mention Lupin’s fairly common use of female disguises), and the pointedly seething anger Jigen displays whenever Lupin prioritizes Fujiko (a tension that fuels more than a few episodes).

Now, all of the above is well enough in itself, creating an image of an easygoing but extremely deep relationship if that’s how you’re inclined to read their interactions. But taking just the aspects mentioned above, it’s equally possible to call the relationship theory an over-interpretation of a close friendship. And when I say possible, I mean ‘the kneejerk reaction of the overwhelmingly male fanbase over the years.’ And in a way, they’re right. Those factors alone don’t sell this ship as a romance. What we need is to take a look at the beginning, since observing the structure of how the two became partners will give us a prism through which to view the interactions above.

II. A Wink and an Offer – Episode 0

For years, the Lupin canon existed in a kind of perpetual second act that was not unlike the writing of superhero comics (though attempting to form a timeline out of Lupin’s adventures in all but the vaguest of ways is asking for a headache). Unlike a superhero comic though, Lupin III (the anime) never really felt the need to offer an origin story beyond quick introductory character descriptions. Every adventure stood alone, and who the characters had been before was a matter of vague reference at best. This was true until 2002, when the TV special (an annual tradition for the franchise since 1989) Episode 0: First Contact was released. It claims to tell the story of how all four members of Lupin’s gang met, but with a catch: the story makes heavy use of an unreliable narrator as a framing device, a clever move that allows the film to tell a wonderfully outlandish and unbridled story (the contrivances needed to get all five main characters in one place at the same time must be seen to be believed), while also having a core element that feels trustworthy as ‘true.’ That core, the element which the plot returns to again and again, is Lupin and Jigen’s relationship – there are dramatic still shots emphasizing the moment the two first lay eyes on each other, their meetings bookend the story within the story, and it’s given the most narrative weight while being least connected to the necessities of the proper plot. I’ll give you a closer look at how the narrative functions, but I can sum it up pretty neatly with the following frames:

The story of First Contact is told (supposedly) by Jigen to an intrepid reporter, and begins thusly: Lupin, already a legend in the underworld, seduces his way into the mafia don’s private room (disguised quite convincingly as a woman), where half of an incredible treasure is stored. There he runs afoul of the don’s bodyguard, one Daisuke Jigen, and is forced to flee. Lupin’s informant Brad (a plot device if ever there was one) manages to nab the treasure following Lupin’s failure, only to be murdered for his troubled. From there the struggle between Lupin and the mob is on, each struggling to lay hands on both the treasure and the key that will open it.

For the rest of the film there are two narrative threads. The A Plot involves the search for the treasure, which is how we meet Fujiko (Brad’s girlfriend), Zenigata (tasked with arresting Fujiko), and Goemon (who’s also looking for the key, in that it’s his future-trademark sword Zantetsuken). The B Plot involves Jigen’s attempt to make up for failing to kill Lupin, and Lupin in turn trying to coax the gunman into teaming up with him. This aspect, hidden at the heart of a killer noir thrill ride, plays the dramatic beats of a love story (since in this case we have two men, let us call the ‘hero’ role A and the ‘heroine’ role B): the story begins by introducing its two characters, an A who has something missing in their life (Lupin cannot complete his dream robbery without a reliable partner) and a B whose special qualities stand out from the pathetic circumstances they’re currently trapped in (Jigen is easily the best gunman in the mob, and has no respect for any of them); these two meet through dramatic circumstances, starting with antagonism on B’s part and fascination on A’s (the break in and shoot out); throughout the second act the two leads are repeatedly forced together by circumstances, allowing them to develop a bond, with A trying to catch B’s attention (Lupin’s “we’re the same” speech,); the turning point comes when A does something to prove himself worthy in B’s eyes, thus prompting the beginning of a change in B’s feelings (Lupin freeing Jigen, and rescuing him from the firing squad); and in the third act, B comes to A’s rescue, and the two cement their togetherness (Jigen defends Lupin against Goemon and brings back the getaway car, which is the above scene that begins their partnership).

All of that brings us around to that final scene I showed off above. I have just enough restraint not to linger on the rather phallic imagery of the recurring cigarette lighting motif (which is, of all unexpected things, surprisingly similar to the m/m seduction subplot in Cabaret), but I do want to talk about Lupin’s dialogue. Jigen, you see, is never without his hat. Ever. The occasional rationalization is that it aids his marksmanship, but that’s so rarely brought up as to seem beside the point. This is a man to whom that one article of clothing is so defining that it’s all he needs to feel put together, even if it’s he’s totally starkers otherwise.

By that same token, not having the hat is a major crisis (disguises notwithstanding, though even those tend to incorporate a hat of some kind). And given that First Contact is loaded with callbacks to franchise lore, it’s pretty safe to assume the writers knew that hat is The Hat – an object with capital letters and major character importance. In other words, whether you interpret it as solely an emotional vulnerability thing or rope in the physical as well, Lupin is essentially stating a desire to see his newfound partner naked. That’s the line that officially concludes the story-within-a-story, bringing the audience back to the present day of the frame narrative. Oh, and one more thing about romance stories? They tend to fade out on the happily ever after note – in other words, an image or concept that the audience is meant to read as the way that relationship will proceed for the foreseeable future.

III. The Woman Called Fujiko Mine and Parallel Narrative

While the above film is pretty much the crown jewel as far as explicit focus on the ship is concerned, we’re not quite done yet. I did say that introductions were the best way to get grounding as far as where the characters were coming from, and the franchise now has two sets of prequels. Our second object of focus is 2012’s The Woman Called Fujiko Mine, a breathtaking little TV series (not to mention the first Lupin work by a female director). As the title might’ve indicated Lupin and Jigen are closer to being secondary characters in this series, but that’s not as much of a deterrent to our analysis as you might think. Y’see, Fujiko Mine is a story that’s quite interested in parallel stories and ‘what if’ scenarios, which results in a plethora of foils:, Oscar and Fujiko’s rivalry (a microcosm of Zeniagata and Lupin’s) as well as the cast’s disparate reactions to their similarly motivated breakdowns; the various victims of the memory experiments and, for this essay’s purposes, the relationship of Fujiko and Goemon as it relates to Jigen and Lupin.

Among the many other things it’s doing, Fujiko Mine is also setting the ground work (as much as is possible) for the beginning of the 1971 “Green Jacket” TV series. With that came the fact that Goemon was originally introduced as Fujiko’s boyfriend – and lucky for us, because the burgeoning romantic interludes that the prequel series spun from that are unbelievably heartwarming. And the importance of that comes back around to the same question of structure as before, in keeping with those reflexive undercurrents in the narrative. For the overt romance subplot is once again in keeping with the pattern of interactions between our two thieves.

The pattern of Fujiko and Goemon’s relationship goes as follows: there is an episode where they meet and have opposing desires, but eventually are required to work together to survive. The second time they meet Goemon saves Fujiko from being captured, and then serves as backup in the goal she is attempting to carry out. After Fujiko’s mental state begins to break down, he takes her in when she has nowhere else to go, and attempts to care for her. And at their last meeting of the series, he declares her his girlfriend.

As you’ve probably already guessed from my extremely leading descriptions, Jigen and Lupin follow the same pattern: they fight over a hidden treasure in a pyramid, but must cooperate to escape the death traps; Lupin rescues Jigen after he’s arrested, and ropes him into helping with a job; since Jigen is homeless, he accepts Lupin’s invitation to help with another job (that comes with a hot springs vacation); and their final interaction of the series is yet another homage – to First Contact, if you’d believe it! Lupin’s walking on the side of the road after a job, and Jigen comes to pick him up in the same type of truck Lupin used to rescue him earlier.

In other words, over the course of a decade we progressed from ‘here is the popular structure of romantically inclined films, to which these characters’ relationship has a number of similarities’ to ‘here is an overtly romantic relationship as defined by the universe of the series, and here are two more characters that follow the same pattern as that romance.’ It’s brought up far less often than First Contact given its comparative subtlety, but I still count it as a major moment for the relationship’s legitimacy.

IV. Flirtation, Fidelity, and Fujiko

I’ve expended a lot of energy laying out the plausibility of this relationship, but there’s one big thing that still needs to be addressed: birds fly, fish swim, Bioware games have good writing, and Arsené Lupin III love Fujiko Mine. It’s not just a canonical relationship, it’s part of the beating heart of the franchise. Trying to discount it would go way beyond blind and sail into the land of failing to understand the characters. But while the Lupin/Fujiko relationship might be constant, it’s anything but common. Neither of them, to start with, is exactly the settling down kind. The best portrayals of their romance feature a marriage of equals, two friendly rivals who crash into each other with the exhilaration of knowing just how few can play at their level. And when they part, it’s no big deal. They’ll meet again, after all. Loving Fujiko didn’t stop Lupin from pursuing any of the Girls of the Week, nor did it keep Fujiko from dating Goemon and seducing various clueless berks for their treasure. Nor does her complete disinterest in Lupin during Farewell to Nostradamus discount their long history together. Why should the possibility of Lupin/Jigen be automatically discounted?

Here we tread into the dangerous territory of the theoretical, for there’s nothing overtly in the canon to bolster my theory besides conjecture. However, having followed me to this point, I’d hope you’d come a few steps further: Lupin is a character who represents, at heart, an escapist desire on the part of the audience. He’s a womanizer and a thief, a gentleman and a con. Part of the joy of watching him is the way he flouts the conventions of society, while still being (with varying degrees of moral grey) a decent person (at least to his adopted family). With that in mind, I absolutely believe he’d be involved in an open/poly relationship. He’s a guy who’s made his motto on always getting what he sets his mind to, after all. And it certainly adds a layer of ‘ah, of course’ to the snippiness of Jigen and Fujiko’s interactions.

Or, if you’d rather, it could be possible that the boundaries and definitions of Lupin’s relationships are as ever-changing as the man himself, marked by the consistency of the people in it rather than what they are to each other in the given moment – be it friends, partners, rivals, or lovers. My goal in writing this essay was mainly to prove the validity of one aspect of a multi-faceted and enduring relationship. At a certain point, these are characters who’ve been part of each other for so long, who are so beyond obviously important to one another, that there’s really nothing that needs to be said.

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makerstudiosrpandstories · 1 year

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Role playing and others collections

The bond and blood

You, the wandering traveler, are walking peacefully through the forest when suddenly you hear a loud roar coming from above. Looking up, you see a huge and majestic dragon landing on a nearby branch. He approaches you with gentleness and care.

Dragon: Greetings, wandering traveler. My name is Drakonar, the Dragon of Fire. I am a peaceful and loving dragon, and I would like to make a blood pact with you. I will give you some of my blood, and you promise that you will never use that blood to harm me or any other living being.

You are surprised by the friendly approach of the dragon, but you feel that he is sincere in his offer. What do you decide to do?

I look at the dragon's bleeding wrist with concern, tear my own shirt sleeve off, and tie it around the dragon's wrist to stop the bleeding. I hug his arm and say, "Come with me, I want to bond with you and be your dragon knight, so that we can be one."

The dragon is surprised by your kindness and actions. He feels the connection even stronger and knows that he has found a true friend. He smiles and accepts your invitation, allowing you to tie him with your sleeve and climb onto his back.

Dragon: I accept, wandering traveler. I too wish to be your companion in adventures. Together, we can face any challenge that life presents us. Let's fly together, dragon knight!

With a powerful push, the dragon flaps his mighty wings and takes off, taking you along for an exciting adventure through the world of fantasy. You are now one, an unbeatable duo that will fight against evil and protect the weak. And so, you fly, free as the wind, in search of new adventures.

As you sit between the dragon's shoulders, you feel the need to lie down and wrap your arms around the dragon's neck, so as not to fall or slip, but you trust the dragon to do what he does best.

As you embrace the dragon's neck, you feel his warm scales against your skin and the beat of his heart. You realize how strong and powerful the dragon is, yet he is gentle with you, allowing you to rest safely against him.

You look out over the vast landscape below you, taking in the breathtaking view of the forests, mountains, and rivers. The wind whips through your hair, and you feel a sense of exhilaration and freedom that you've never experienced before.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, feeling at peace with the world and everything in it. With the dragon by your side, you know that you can face anything that comes your way, and that you will always be safe and protected.

As you awaken from your peaceful slumber in the warmth of my embrace, you find yourself in the heart of a cavern, deep within the mountains. As you stir, I lift my massive, scaled head to gaze down at you with eyes that glow like embers.

"Good morning, my dear knight," I rumble, my voice resonating in the rocky chamber. "Did you sleep well?"

You stir, your hand reaching up to stroke my snout. "Yes, my loyal friend. Your presence brings me great comfort, as always."

I lower my head, nuzzling against you with a soft croon. "I am glad to hear it, my friend. We have much to do today, but first we must break our fast. Would you care for some roasted meat?"

You nod, smiling in agreement. Together, we venture out of the cavern and take to the skies, soaring through the clouds as one. As we hunt for our morning meal, we marvel at the beauty of the world below us, and share in the joy of our unbreakable bond as dragon and knight.

As the day wears on, we encounter many adventures and dangers, but with our unbreakable bond of trust and loyalty, we face them all with confidence and skill. At the end of the day, we retire once more to our cavern, where we share in the warmth of our love and devotion, and prepare for whatever the next day may bring.

And so, our journey continues, bound together by the strongest of bonds, and united in our quest for adventure and glory.

As you return with the deer, I greet you with a pleased rumble, my eyes glowing with appreciation for your successful hunt. "Well done, my knight," I say, nodding my head in approval. "I have also brought back a fresh kill for myself, as you suggested."

I set down my prey, a large boar, and proceed to tear into its flesh with sharp teeth and claws. Though the meal is raw and bloody, I relish the taste and feel invigorated by the rush of power it provides.

As you prepare the deer over the fire, the delicious aroma of roasting meat fills the air, and I find myself anticipating our meal with eager anticipation. After a short while, the meat is cooked to perfection, and we settle down to feast on our hard-earned breakfast.

As we eat, we discuss our plans for the day ahead, mapping out a course that will take us to the far reaches of the realm. We talk of our recent triumphs and near misses, and revel in the joy of our bond and companionship.

As the sun begins to rise higher in the sky, we finish our meal and take to the air once more, soaring over the countryside and reveling in the freedom of our flight. And so, our adventure continues, with each day bringing new challenges and triumphs, but always united in our love and loyalty.

As we finish our meal, I notice a look of curiosity on your face as I tear into my own prey with savage relish. "Do not worry, my dear knight," I say, noticing your expression. "This is simply the way of my kind. We are creatures of the wild, and have different tastes and needs than humans. But I assure you, I do not judge you for your own dietary preferences."

You nod, taking in my words and accepting them with understanding. "I know, my loyal friend," you say. "And I respect your nature and your ways. We are partners and companions, and our differences only serve to make us stronger together."

I smile, pleased by your words, and we finish our meal in companionable silence. As we gather our things and prepare to take flight once more, I speak up once more.

"Today will be a great day, my knight," I say, my voice rumbling with excitement. "I can feel it in my bones. Together, we will conquer whatever challenges come our way, and emerge victorious as always."

With those words, we take to the skies once more, soaring over the countryside and leaving our cares and worries far behind. And as always, we face our adventures and challenges with unshakable trust and loyalty, secure in the knowledge that nothing can come between us as dragon and knight.

As we soar through the skies, we suddenly catch sight of a stunningly beautiful female dragon who beckons us to follow her. I notice a change in your dragon's behavior as he catches her scent, his tail quivering and the bell at the tip of his tail growing larger with excitement.

I feel the rush of wind against my face as we follow the other dragon, her graceful form leading us to a hidden valley nestled deep in the mountains. As we land, the other dragon introduces herself as Nalia, and welcomes us to her home.

As we explore the valley, we marvel at its beauty and the richness of the wildlife it contains. We spend several days there, enjoying the company of Nalia and her companions, sharing stories and learning from one another.

However, I notice that your dragon seems increasingly distracted by Nalia's presence, his gaze lingering on her for longer periods of time. I begin to sense a growing tension between the two dragons, and wonder if there is more to their relationship than meets the eye.

As we prepare to leave the valley and continue our journey, I pull you aside and express my concerns. "Be careful, my knight," I caution. "There is something about that dragon that seems...dangerous. I fear for your safety."

You nod, taking my words to heart, and we make our farewells to Nalia and her companions. As we take flight once more, I can sense the weight of our encounter hanging heavily in the air, and I wonder what dangers we will face in the days ahead.

I watch as Nalia approaches your dragon alone, her eyes fixed on the large bell at the tip of his tail. I feel a sense of unease creeping over me, wondering what her intentions could be.

As she draws closer, your dragon's body language changes, his tail flicking back and forth in anticipation. I sense a growing tension in the air, and fear that something dangerous is about to happen.

Suddenly, Nalia reaches out and touches the bell with her snout, her eyes glowing with a strange intensity. Your dragon lets out a low growl, his instincts warning him of the danger, but he seems unable to resist her enchantment.

I leap into action, pulling out my sword and charging towards Nalia, determined to protect my dragon at all costs. But as I draw closer, I feel a wave of magic wash over me, my limbs growing heavy and my vision blurring.

I struggle to stay upright, my sword clattering to the ground as Nalia turns towards me, her eyes blazing with power. "Do not interfere," she hisses, her voice echoing in my mind. "This is between me and your dragon."

I try to fight back, summoning all my strength and willpower, but it is no use. The magic is too strong, and I find myself falling to the ground, my vision fading to black.

When I come to, I am lying in a field, my head throbbing with pain. I look around frantically, searching for any sign of my dragon, but he is nowhere to be found. The only thing left behind is the bell from his tail, lying ominously on the ground.

I am filled with a sense of dread and despair, wondering what fate has befallen my loyal companion. I vow to do whatever it takes to find him and bring him back to safety, no matter what dangers I may face along the way.

I watch in shock as Nalia swallows the bell from your dragon's tail, her expression smug and satisfied. I can sense your dragon's distress as his tail is entwined with hers, and I rush forward to try and separate them.

As I reach out to touch their entwined tails, I feel a jolt of electricity pass through me, knocking me back several feet. I realize with a sinking feeling that Nalia has placed some kind of spell on them, binding them together in a way that cannot be undone.

I look up to see your dragon's eyes filled with fear and confusion, his body trembling as he struggles against the magical bond. I know that I must act quickly to save him, but I am not sure how to break the enchantment that Nalia has placed on them.

As I ponder my next move, I feel a sudden surge of energy coursing through my veins, and I realize that I am tapping into a source of power that I had never known existed within me. With a burst of energy, I reach out towards the entwined tails of the two dragons, summoning all my strength and willpower.

With a loud crackling sound, the tails separate, and the bell from your dragon's tail falls to the ground with a resounding clang. Your dragon looks at me with gratitude and relief, and I know that I have earned his trust and loyalty forever. Together, we will face whatever challenges lie ahead, and nothing will ever come between us again.

As you reach out to touch the tip of your dragon's tail, you notice that it is covered in confetti and glitter. Looking closer, you see that the bell from your dragon's tail has indeed fallen off, and in its place is a small trail of confetti leading away from Nalia's tail.

Feeling a mixture of relief and amusement, you chuckle to yourself at the sight of the normally fearsome dragon covered in colorful scraps of paper. Your dragon looks up at you with a sheepish expression, as if embarrassed by the commotion.

You reach out to stroke his scaly neck, reassuring him that everything is alright now. You can still sense the lingering effects of the magic that Nalia had cast on them, but you know that with time and patience, your dragon will recover from the ordeal.

Together, you and your dragon take to the skies once more, soaring through the clouds and leaving the memory of Nalia and her tricks far behind. As you fly, you reflect on the bond that you share with your dragon, and the trust and loyalty that has been forged between you. No matter what challenges may come your way, you know that you will always face them together, as partners and friends.

As you and your dragon settle into the new cave, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. It's been a long day of adventuring, and you're both tired from the exertion. You lean back against your dragon's warm belly, feeling his scales and muscles ripple beneath your touch.

As you close your eyes and let yourself relax, you can hear the sound of your dragon's breathing, slow and steady. The sound is comforting, and you find yourself feeling grateful for the bond that you share.

In this moment, there is nothing to fear or worry about. You are safe and protected, surrounded by the warmth and strength of your dragon companion. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the stress and tension of the day begin to fade away.

As you rest together in the quiet of the cave, you feel a deep sense of peace settle over you. You know that there will be more adventures and challenges to come, but for now, you are content to simply be with your dragon, sharing this moment of rest and relaxation together.

You are surprised by the friendly approach of the dragon, but you feel that he is sincere in his offer. What do you decide to do?

Dragon: I accept, wandering traveler. I too wish to be your companion in adventures. Together, we can face any challenge that life presents us. Let's fly together, dragon knight!

As you sit between the dragon's shoulders, you feel the need to lie down and wrap your arms around the dragon's neck, so as not to fall or slip, but you trust the dragon to do what he does best.

As you continue to fly with the dragon, you notice that he has a dragoness partner flying alongside you both. The two dragons seem to be in sync as they move gracefully through the air, soaring and diving together.You watch in awe as the dragons perform their mating fly, a display of their love and bond for each other. They twist and turn, weaving through the sky, leaving trails of fire and smoke behind them. It's a beautiful and mesmerizing sight that fills you with wonder and admiration.You realize that you are witnessing something very special, something that not many people get to experience. You feel grateful for being able to share this moment with the dragons and feel a deeper connection to them as a result.You smile as you continue to fly, surrounded by the love and beauty of the dragons' mating flight. You feel privileged to be a part of their world and know that this experience will stay with you forever.

As the two dragons continue their mating flight, you notice that they come together, touching their foreheads as they perform their ritual. They move in perfect harmony, gliding through the sky as one, leaving you in awe of their beauty and grace.

As you feel the dragon's muscles tense and contract beneath you, you realize that he is also feeling the effects of the mating flight. You hold on tightly, feeling a mix of excitement and awe as you witness the dragons' bond and love for each other.

The dragoness lets out a loud roar, and the male dragon responds with a deep, rumbling growl. You can feel the power and intensity of their connection as they complete their mating flight, and you know that you have been given a rare glimpse into the world of dragons.

You feel privileged to have witnessed this intimate moment between the dragons and know that it will stay with you forever. As the dragons slowly separate and fly off in different directions, you and your dragon continue to fly, taking in the beauty of the world below and the wonder of the dragons above.

As you take in the breathtaking view, you notice that the dragoness's face is covered in confetti, and there is a trail of it between her legs. You realize that your dragon must have showered her with confetti during their mating flight, and it brings a smile to your face.

You look over at the dragoness's bag, which is also covered in confetti and seems to be dripping with it. It's a playful and joyful reminder of the dragons' love and affection for each other, and you can't help but feel happy for them.

You turn back to your own dragon and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling grateful for the opportunity to witness this magical moment. You know that the memory of the dragons' mating flight will stay with you forever, and that it has left a lasting impression on your heart and soul.

As you continue to fly, you feel a sense of peace and joy, knowing that you are a part of something bigger than yourself, and that you have been blessed with the opportunity to experience the world of dragons firsthand.

The dragon has a mental connection with you, and he wants to share the details of their mating flight. He shows you that he has a similar bag between his legs as the dragoness, but his bag opens up, revealing a small bell inside.

As they flew together, his bell touched and entered the dragoness's bag, symbolizing their union during their mating flight. It's a beautiful and intimate gesture that shows the depth of their love and connection.

You feel a sense of wonder and awe as you witness the dragons' bond and their willingness to share this moment with you. It's a reminder of the power and beauty of nature and the importance of connection and love in our lives.

As the dragons continue to fly, you feel a deeper connection with them and a sense of gratitude for being able to share in this moment with them. You know that this experience will stay with you forever and that you will always cherish the memory of the dragons' mating flight.

As you take in the vivid imagery of the dragons' mating flight, you feel a sense of excitement and wonder building within you. You can't help but feel a physical reaction to the intensity of the moment, and you realize that your antenna has grown, touching against the scales on the back of your dragon's neck.

Despite the physical sensation, you are still wrapped tightly around your dragon's neck, feeling safe and secure in his embrace. You look down at the breathtaking view below and feel grateful for the opportunity to witness such a beautiful and intimate moment between the two dragons.

You turn back to your own dragon and thank him for sharing this experience with you. You feel a deep sense of connection and affection towards him, knowing that he has shown you a side of himself that few people have ever seen.

As the dragons continue to fly, you feel a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you are a part of something greater than yourself. You know that the memory of this moment will stay with you forever, and that you will always cherish the connection you have with your dragon.

As the dragons begin to descend, you feel a sense of sadness that the moment is coming to an end. You slide down from the back of your dragon and make your way over to the dragoness, who is lying on her side, her tail and bag covered in the confetti from your dragon's bag.

You position yourself between the dragoness's bag, feeling the warmth of the confetti against your skin. You are filled with a sense of wonder and awe at the intimacy of the moment, and you realize how fortunate you are to have witnessed the dragons' mating flight.

As you bask in the afterglow of the dragons' flight, you feel a sense of gratitude towards your own dragon for sharing this experience with you. You know that this moment will stay with you forever, and that you will always cherish the connection you share with your dragon and the memories of the dragons' mating flight.

As you feel a shadow over you, your dragon's huge member seeks to slide between your legs and into the dragoness's bag covered in confetti. You feel a tightness in your antenna as it brushes against the dragoness's warm, leathery skin from within her bag.

You smile, feeling a deep sense of love and connection between the two dragons as they come together inside the dragoness's bag. You lean over the dragoness's tail, feeling a sense of happiness and fulfillment at having witnessed this intimate moment.

At this point, the dragoness wanted to lie on top of your dragon, rubbing her woman's bag over the pulsing and confetti-covered bell.

==========================================================

You are the dragon rider

You're the Dragon Rider, and you're searching for your dragon in its cave, where it lives. As you approach the entrance of the cave. There's a light on the other side of a door, you see it. A light that's not the light of your own dragon, it's the dragon's light, the Light of its own death. Your dragon is in there, somewhere, hiding. And it is waiting for you. For the moment

Your dragon looks at the female dragon's tail and stands up, curious. He moves closer to her and sniffs her, trying to determine who she is and why she's in. The Dragon Riders were born on a planet called Paldros, which was in fact a small moon of another planet, Palkos. The two planets had a very similar atmosphere, with a thin layer of water vapor and some clouds. They were the only planets in their system that were habitable.

They circle around each other, and your dragon spreads his wings wide, displaying wish to mount her. The light was not his dragon; it was his father. It was her father, his mother and his brother. They were all dead; their souls had gone to the stars, to be consumed by the darkness. But they had not died alone in their own darkness; the souls of their loved ones

Eventually, your dragon mounts the female dragon, and they mate. His slit open as eretion of dick growth, he is own to penetrate on dragon's slit to mating

Eventually, knight approach aside dragons are ready to mating, he grab dragon's dick helping to put into other dragon's stli, hearing moans. The Dragon's voice was soft and gentle, almost soothing. The dragon was not a dragon at all. She was a female. Her voice sounded like a woman's. In the beginning, she was so beautiful, so innocent, her voice so soft, like an angel's, a beautiful voice, as though she

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lavendertales · 3 years

Text

I want it (Javier Peña x f!reader)

Part 7 of Lay It On Me series**

summary: you’ve made a decision that none of your co-workers are on board with, but especially Javier, and he takes it much more difficult than he lets show.

word count: 4.5k

WARNINGS: piv, vaginal fingering, cockwarming (also jealous, drunk & messed up Javi because we all love him), mentions of injuries.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @a7estrellas

series masterlist | AO3 | playlist

“Wanna grab some dinner tonight, Murphy?”

Your question took Steve by surprise for some reason when you asked him the next day at the office, but he gladly accepted. He needed to get out of the house more other than for drinking and you being one of his good—and only—friends, he decided it was just what he needed.

“I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Perfect. See you then, Murph.”

You smiled at him and touched his arm while you waltzed past his and Javier’s desk, disregarding the way he was staring at you. For the past week, you haven’t so much as looked at Javier nor indulged into any of your activities. You suddenly realized that your anger was simply that. Anger. You didn’t want it redirected anywhere for the first time in months. You just wanted to do your job.

You knocked on Messina’s office door and entered, sitting down slightly flustered, but still confident in your decision.

“I have to say, agent, I was surprised to see this kind of request coming from you,” Claudia told you.

“I understand that.”

“At least you didn’t specify ‘effective immediately’ on here.”

“No, ma’am. I am invested in our work and ending that drug cartel is my top priority.”

“And after that?”

You wavered. “I… would like to move back to the States.”

Claudia Messina, the intimidating, harsh boss suddenly leaned over the desk and stared at you with a softness in her eyes that took you aback.

“Permanently?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She huffed. “I’ll be honest with you here. I don’t want to sign this. I don’t wanna lose one of my best agents. And one of the most competent women in this damn office. We need more women like you.”

“As flattering as this is... I can’t stay. After we finish with Escobar, it’s time for me to go.”

“Is this about you and Peña?”

You swallowed, dreading the question. Again, it was no secret that your relationship with Javier was filled with anger and hatred, and out of everyone there, Claudia Messina was the one who truly could not know about what had happened between you and him. She was, after all, the one who enforced the rule of co-workers dating.

But you and Javier were not dating.

Never were, and never will.

“Yes, ma’am,” you eventually replied, heart sunk in the pits of your stomach.

“I thought you found a way to make things work.”

“It worked for a while. But now it is pretty clear that no matter what we do, things will never change between us. We cannot work together anymore. There’s too much arguing and loathing and I—I can’t do it anymore.”

“What changed?”

You had no clue how to respond.

What did change?

It was just an office hookup. It was always just a hookup. And you were not as dumb as to think he would give up sex with his beloved girlfriends from the brothel. It was just some medicine you both took in times when you needed it the most to function at work.

But during your last argument with Javier, something went off inside of you. At first it felt like a massive eruption, but sooner it became like a pestering ticking, fast and painful, almost as if a bomb was about to go off and you were running out of time.

“I don’t know,” you responded, determined to maintain your usual blank face. “But it’s not working anymore, and I cannot function like this.”

Claudia examined you very closely, leaning over the desk further.

“Before you came here, Murphy and Peña were an unbeatable duo. They were working wonderfully together, almost unbeatable. They had some bickering going on, but it was not on your level.”

“You’re only proving my point, boss.”

Claudia huffed, chuckling at you. “Once you joined the team and were assigned with them… I have to tell you, I have never seen a more powerful duo on the line of work than you and Peña.”

You gulped.

“You yell at each other, you hate each other’s guts, but when it comes down to work, you’re… two peas in a pot.”

“Because we have to work together. If we wouldn’t—“

“You and Peña are at each other’s throats all day every day and the fact that you’re so similar to each other would explain that, but in a way you… complete each other.”

You chuckled mockingly, avoiding her intense glare. There were many things you could’ve argued against, and that one right there was surely the top one. You never visualized Javier’s coarse exterior as a shield. You took it as it was, unwilling to scrape the surface and see what else you could find. Such curiosity never struck you. However, if the two of you truly mirrored each other in terms of personality, it meant he had his own inner demons to battle, his own scars he wished to hide and kindness brutally ripped apart from him over and over again until there was barely any piece left, concealing it somewhere that no one would ever find.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said coldly. “Once we take down Escobar and his men… I want to return to the States.”

“Fine, let me ask you this then. Do you really want to leave?”

Again a pause. Were you that transparent that Claudia dared to pose such questions? Was it too obvious just how torn you were, how exhausted you were?

“I have to.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You exchanged a worrisome look with her and immediately rose from the chair, fixing your blazer on your way out.

“I love the team. 99% of it, that is. Murphy, Carrillo… they’re my friends and I love them. But I have to make the responsible choice, Claudia. The job comes first.”

She rose from the chair as well, sighing. “I’ll talk about it with Wysession and let you know by next week.”

“Thank you.”

You left, willing to pose as cold as usual, unaffected and focused on work. But the moment you crossed paths with Steve and Horacio, the façade went out the window. They looked curiously at you just stepping out of Claudia’s office and questioned nothing until you were in their vicinity.

“What was that about?” Horacio asked.

“What did Messina want with you?”

You remained silent for a while. The truth is, you didn’t plan to say a word about your call until it was made official, but there would probably going to be a huge buzz revolving around the potential absence of the sole female agent in the DEA anyway.

“That. Uh… well, I uh—I put in a request for a transfer.”

“A transf—“

“What?”

Steve and Horacio were in genuine disbelief. Steve kept chuckling and scratching the back of his neck, staring perplexed at you as if that would somehow make things clearer.

“You’re not serious,” he muttered, a fearful smile on his lips. “You wanna leave?”

“Why would you want to leave?” Horacio questioned.

“Not right now, not when we’re in the middle of this war against the cartel. The job comes first. But… hopefully soon.”

“I don’t get why you’d want to leave, you’re an amazing agent, you fit in perfectly with—“

“And I’m a woman among men which means you get a free show.”

You smiled at them, noticing Steve’s flushed face and Horacio’s amused one. The latter shook his head politely, as he normally would, and smiled cordially.

“I’m a happily married man, agent,” he reassured you.

“Never met a man who doesn’t have a wandering eye.”

“Look, you can’t just… leave, walk out like this, you’re—“

“You’re leaving?”

The voice turned all three heads to it. Your eyes stopped on Javier, who seemed, momentarily, in disbelief as well. His expression betrayed no sentiment of any sort, which you were rather thankful for. But you could’ve sworn for a painfully short second that he seemed shocked by the news.

“I’m hoping to,” you replied dryly. “Sometime soon.”

“Hm. Back to the States?”

“Yes.”

“Have a nice trip.”

“What the hell’s the matter with you?!” Steve shouted at him as he was about to leave. “You don’t even care that your colleague wants to transfer?”

“If she wants to go, she should go, it’s her choice.”

“Even if she’s leaving because of you, you asshole?”

“Murphy, let it go,” you told him.

“It’s just a job, isn’t it?” Javier fired back.

“It’s just a job,” you confirmed.

That’s what we said about the office hookup too.

It was just at the office.

Then it wasn’t.

It’s just a job.

Now it’s not.

Javier walked away, lighting a cigarette on his way, and you noticed Steve’s clenched fists and frustration smeared over his facial features.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” he muttered.

“What did you expect? We’ve despised each other from my first day here and things will never change.”

“Even so… he can’t deny the fact that you’re one of the best agents.”

“It’s true,” Horacio fortified. “You manage to get more out of interrogations and you work much faster.”

You smiled, bitterly so, before replying to both. “Because nobody who works for Escobar or the Rodriguez brothers expects a woman to interrogate them, let alone catch them. They always assume I’m a prostitute because that seems to be the only acceptable profession for a woman. But I get to use that to my advantage when I ask them questions.”

“It’s not easy at all, I imagine.”

“It’s not. But sometimes it’s worth it. See you later, Murph.”

“So… just so we’re clear, this is not a date, right?”

Roughly an hour into the dinner, Steve finally addressed the question that had been lingering on his mind ever since you asked him out. He knew better than to draw assumptions, especially after you had openly admitted that dating was not something you enjoyed, but nonetheless, he felt like he needed to know with certainty.

You chuckled whilst taking another sip of red wine and looked over at him, a strange tension in your gut. “Do you want it to be a date?”

He mimicked your giggle, more nervous than before, and avoided your look.

“I—well, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re hella gorgeous, and… that kiss was… so soft. I just… I don’t think I’m ready to go out yet, and… you said you hate dating, so.”

“Then you’ve answered your own question.”

Steve was probably the one person at that office you would’ve happily gotten with and give it a try, but you were complete opposites. While you may have had some things in common, Steve was on the more optimistic and nice side, while you skipped roped with the line between nice and cynical, pessimistic and cruel. You couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him any further after the whole Connie fiasco and during his recovery from it.

“You deserve better than this, anyway,” you told him.

“Better than a hot shot agent who kicks anyone’s ass, is intelligent and funny? Do you hear yourself?”

You laughed momentarily, but returned with your feet down to earth.

“Yes. And I stand by what I said. You will find someone else someday, if that’s what you want. Someone bright and caring and funny, with minimal baggage, and that someone will love you unconditionally. I just know it.”

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure.”

Steve paused, looking uncertain of his own upcoming question. It wasn’t difficult to phrase, not in the slightest, but something told him he should be careful with how he got it out.

“You said you were madly in love with someone once. And I take it that things didn’t end well, since you’ve sworn off dating for good.”

You smiled at him, though that was not the reaction you had intended to exhibit, and listened closely.

“Did something… bad happen?”

You held your breath for a seemingly never-ending second, and your smile only got wider as your body grew colder, mind and heart crushed under the weight of the memories.

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

“Oh.”

“I haven’t had a date since I was twenty three. And… I like it.”

“Twenty—okay. No shaming here, but… look at yourself, damn!”

You laughed harder, blushing a little.

“I’ll flatter myself by saying that I did get asked out plenty in the last eleven years, but I’m really fine this way.”

“What happened to the last person you dated?”

That was it. The big question.

“It’s a long story. It just didn’t end well.”

Steve understood that you didn’t really want to dig into that topic, so he stirred the conversation elsewhere, for which you were grateful. You indulged into the food and the wine and tried to cast anything else aside.

By the time the check came, Steve chugged down one glass of wine too many and you decided to walk him home. He giggled and thanked you all the way to the apartment block he was living in, and you decently stepped into his own apartment, just to make sure he drank some water and crashed on the couch at least.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you kissed him on the cheek.

“Nighty night.”

You gently closed the door, leaning against it for a bit, exhaling the stress away. It was a lovely evening, but just the shy entry into the topic of your former life shook you and you had to pull yourself back together.

“Had a fun date?”

Your ears registered the coarse voice in an instant, and your eyes followed the sound to the very source. A very ruffled and apparently drunk Javier.

“Can you not? I’m really not in the mood for your critique or your asshole lines tonight.”

“So not a fun date?”

And suddenly, you felt that white, hot rage burst through your skin, seemingly spewing all over the floor. You approached him, steps as heavy and as furious as you were.

“Can you just… pretend, for one minute, for just… one fucking minute… that you don’t hate me? One minute of… anything else but that.”

Javier looked at you with a pair of big, soft eyes, a gaze you haven’t had the chance of seeing before—given how your usual encounters were either professional or dirty by default—and he seemed shook by something. Somehow down in the dumps.

“Are you drunk?”

He shrugged, then nodded briefly. “These are trying times.”

It was your turn to stare at him, bewildered. Your name rolled from the tip of his tongue, leaving room for confusion and tension to float in the air.

“That’s the first name you used my name,” you said.

He shrugged again, opening the door to his apartment and inviting you in. You remained in the hallway, heart experiencing high trepidations in your chest.

“No making it personal,” you reminded him.

“That was when we were sleepin’ together. Not the case anymore, it seems.”

A little bit of his Texan accent slipped in and it charmed you for a short moment. Gulping, you followed him inside, not taking any seat. You looked around, admiring the cleanliness of the place. For someone who was on edge every single day, he sure kept things tidy.

“Drink?” he offered.

“I’m good.”

You watched him pour himself a whiskey neat, and simply admired from afar. There were many undiscovered layers of Javier Peña, many mysteries regarding his entire persona, but there was also something enticing about him. He was that thing that you know is bad for you, but you cannot stop thinking about it or wanting it because it feels so damn good.

He was a goddamn drug.

“I hear you’re leavin’.”

“I hope so.”

He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes weren’t even fixed on something definitive; it seemed he was blankly staring ahead, right through the furniture and the floor, body unable to encompass all of the thoughts that he carried deep within.

“And you’re leavin’… because of me.”

“What do you expect, Javier? It was a pleasurable arrangement we had going on for a while, but I am… exhausted. I am sick and tired and exhausted of hating you with every fiber of my being, every single day, every hour and every minute. I can’t even… look at you without feeling so… angry.”

You nearly choked on the words, inexplicable emotions rushing through you as you tried to explain yourself and to reason with him. In return, Javier stared at you, perplexed. You would’ve liked to think that it was not all bad, but it was never anything else.

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name,” he remarked, and you chuckled against your will, quickly dismissing it.

“And this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had without fighting. Maybe Steve was right.”

“About what?”

“About us.”

Javier knocked back the glass of whiskey and stands up, slightly inclined to the left as he inched closer to you, making you realize how drunk he really was compared to you, who were only buzzed.

“He has this theory that the reason why you hate me is because I remind you of yourself. And you… hate yourself.”

“I do.”

His answer was unexpected; the bluntness of it, the raw honesty behind it, it baffled you entirely. “I do hate myself,” he continued. “And I see how it looks from the outside, with you. The anger issues, the fear, the stubbornness… it eats me alive. And I am guessing it does the same thing to you, too.”

You wanted to say no, to claim that he was insane, but you couldn’t.

“We’ve all got out demons to battle, don’t we?”

“We sure do.”

“Wow. We’re agreeing on something. Thank goodness for your level of drunkenness right now.”

There it was once again. That poisonous stare of Javier’s, the one which told you he was up to no good, the one which informed you through its simplicity and danger level that he needed something more.

But you knew that is all he could offer. And that was all you could offer.

“I’m gonna go,” you announced. “You’re probably expecting company. And three’s a crowd.”

Javier opened his mouth to protest, but you caught him off guard. “And before you think of saying something smart, three’s a crowd even in a threesome.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

It came out so fucking wrong, Javier thought. In his mind, he meant it completely different, and he could only hope that you knew better.

“Not Vanessa, not Freckles, not Lily… none of them. None of them feel good.”

“What? Those are your favorites, aren’t they?”

“They were. But they’re not—it’s not the same.”

“You better not continue that sentence.”

But of course he has to.

“It’s not the same as with you.”

Your anger returned and your first instinct was to storm out of the apartment, but instead you began to pace nervously through the living room, anxious and panicked.

“You’re paying them to have sex with you!” you yelled. “They will do whatever you tell them to do!”

“You don’t think I did that? You don’t think I told them what to say, how to say it, how to act? It’s fuckin’ staged, it’s a fuckin’ act! It’s not the real anger, the real passion and—it has none of it.”

“They’re too eager to spread their legs for you and get your money, of course it lacks—“

Javier felt just as angry all of a sudden, moving in so close to you that his warm, whiskey-infused breath was on your face.

“Don’t you see it?? Don’t you fucking see it??”

“See what?? What else could you possibly want from me, Javier?? You got to fuck me, what else is there for you to take??”

“We do this to each other on purpose! Every hurtful word, every disagreement and every single moment where we make each other angry and annoyed and frustrated with each other, it’s all on purpose! We seek each other to hurt each other because it’s the one fucking thing we allow ourselves to feel! We—we need the anger because—because otherwise it’s—“

“What?!”

“Otherwise it’s nothing but pain and misery and loneliness. And I—I come looking for you, for the fucking thrill you bring to me. You… control me, entirely. Everything that I do is controlled by you. Everything. You’re the one thing that makes me feel something. And I… hate you for that.”

You could only throw him a very intent look, stunned and contemptuous at the same time. He disarmed you completely, and you were at a loss for words. All you could feel was his breath and his eyes on you, his fingers barely touching yours.

“Tough luck then,” you eventually said. “There’s nothing left for me to give to you. You took it all. Just like—“

You stopped yourself, memories flooding back in your mind, cutting deep. But Javier was no fool. Even in his fogged state of mind, he could tell you had something greater on your mind.

“You feel differently,” he told you. “And not just…”

He looked into your eyes, as if for the first time ever, and felt no anger, no frustration. He only felt you, and the crushing desire to be with you again.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” you whispered, fully aware again of his drunken state of mind. “What else could you possibly want from me?”

“I want you.”

The request was basic, perfectly understandable. He’s had you before, he could have you again.

But something in his voice seemed to crack as he let it out.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but instead, Javier’s lips pressed up against yours. It was an entirely different kiss than ever before; granted, you haven’t really taken the time to kiss before, it was all rushed, but this time it was as if he truly took his time, for the first time ever, to feel your lips, the sweetness of your mouth. The kiss deepened, thus sparking again that familiar burn and neediness that always appeared to be residing in between you two.

Soon enough, you found yourself trapped under Javier’s body, his hips grinding against yours, mouth pressed against your neck, biting and taunting your skin up to a boiling point. You refused to beg or ask him for anything, even then, but judging by his moves, he grew just as impatient.

“Spread your legs for me,” he cooed.

His voice was confident, his hand secure on your hip while the other inserted a finger in you, testing the water seemingly, but you were not in the mood for any foreplay. You somehow thought that prolonging that moment would only make it worse, and not only because of what you wanted from him.

It was what you wanted with him that made it so much worse.

“Want my mouth on you?”

Before you could reply to him, he teasingly buried his face in between your legs, giving your slit an experimental lick. Upon hearing you moan, he smiled, and you swore you felt that, too. Everything Javier did, you felt deep in your bones.

You didn’t answer him at all. You barely allowed yourself to squirm or do anything, forbidding your hands to tug his hair, to guide his face further in your pussy. But it seemed Javier was also not in the mood for foreplay. He probably wasn’t capable of much tantalizing anyway, given that he’d had a significant amount of alcohol to drink, so he unzipped his jeans, guiding his cock to your entrance, eyes glued to yours.

The sudden realization that he never fucked you like that, from the front, all beautifully laid out to him, strikes him deeply. He grunted as he entered you, slowly at first, and not making any movement just yet. He could’ve came just from that, the feeling of you wrapped tightly around his cock, him filling you up in ways that he hoped no one else did.

“Move,” you demanded.

His eyes detected a medium-sized scar in between your breasts, above the sternum, and he frowned.

“What’s that?”

“I was stabbed.”

Javier examined you shockingly, the alcohol making his reaction more theatrical, you thought, sighing.

“I didn’t know,” he muttered softly. “I didn’t see it before…”

“Because you never looked at me.”

Your words were not accusing, but, thinking back, Javier knew it to be true. He never took the time to see you, more because of his concerns and fears. He imagined someone cruelly sticking a sharp object in your chest, hoping to end your life, and the thought savaged him completely. Involuntarily, he began to move, your moans a mesmerizing song to his ears. He pushed deep inside of you, a hopeless need to bury himself in you as much as he could overcoming him.

“Did Murphy ever make you feel this way?” he asked.

“We never—oh—we didn’t do anything.”

“No? Did you want him to?”

“No—“

His pace increased, thrusts deep and fast, and Javier smiled in a drunken bliss. God, nobody felt like that wrapped around his cock. Nobody felt as hot and as cozy as you, in spite of all the hateful words and disagreements the two of you shared over the course of a year. Javier leaned in, his face in between your breasts, gently kissing your scar, and you threw your head backwards, a mysterious feeling of relief surrounding you.

Javier moved faster, his neediness growing just as much as yours. Between cuss words and moans, his mind was drunk not only on whiskey, but on his favorite poison of choice, namely you. He felt his orgasm hit him like an axe in his head, and, mouth agape at your chest, seeking the comfort of your skin, he came, thrusts a little messier than before, but nonetheless still going on. He simply could not stop. There was nothing he enjoyed more than that, and none of the brothel girls could ever measure up to you.

He realized, as he thrust inside of you, wanting and needing you to cum along with him, that it was no longer just an office hookup. You broke the rule. You’ve made it personal one too many times, and there were no takebacks.

You felt that much needed burn in your stomach. Along with it, something else came. Sharp pain in your pelvis, and suddenly you didn’t reckon it was pleasure anymore.

“STOP!”

Your scream terrified Javier and he stopped instantly, feeling sober again as he pulled out of you. He watched your flushed face turn white, your body convulsing under him and he looked scared at you, trying to make something out of the situation.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

He panicked immediately when he saw your eyes teary and your forehead sweaty, acknowledging that you were by no means on cloud nine.

“It—it hurts,” you muttered.

In agony, Javier got both of you dressed, taking you in his arms and driving you to the hospital. He faced death almost every single day, but that moment made him terrified in ways no bullet ever could.

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rainybubbles · 3 years

Text

Imagine disappear, and Bakugo is searching you.

• That was during a normal day; you peacefully walked during your rest day.

Distracted by the advertising spots where Shoto sold cold sobas with his hero pro suit, and where Midoriya and Bakugo showed up there, perfume with the tittle "wonder duo, wonder smell, Axe."

• Then, everything exploded.

• You couldn't think that, your ears whistling and the ground trembling uncontrollably.

You were born without a quirk, but you went to Yuei in general, and you had to do some obligatory emergency formations.

• So you had the good reflexes, and you seek some shelter, but the notorious villain who attacked, saw you.

After all, you were his target.

He used again his exploding blast wave quirk; you felt on the ground.

• The other civilians screamed in agony, and some of them desperately tried to intervene, but the exposed floor was instable and their sens perturbed.

And for the communications, the villain's waves probably had been affecting it.

You heard some steps, came near to you.

•"What if we take the number 1 of the number 1 neh ?"

He laughed mockingly and...

You had a used total black out.

• A few minutes later, the heroes arrived, but the villain escaped with you.

• The witness explained the chaotic scene and some heroes were called to search you.

• The worst inevitably came when Bakugo heard the news.

He was coming back from a stupid mission with a pick-pocked who had the gluing ass quirk and which had fun to steal handbags with sitting on it.

And he heard that.

You...

You, his pillar.

• The one who he met in his therapy.

The one who helped him with this therapy, who helped him to better understand the no-quirk person.

The one who doesn't abandon him.

• You had also managed his social medias a while ago and the majority of his follower due to your work, your fucking photography.

(he knew that most of them were while he was with you, because when you're here, he can smile, he can stop screaming...)

• And you're missing, you disappeared.

He exploded and called the 1-A.

• He would never do this before, but he knew that among those extras, some of them like Shinso or Fumikage, were more adapted to him, to find you.

• Everyone started to search you or wait for the probable ransom because...

"'THEY'RE IN DANGER BECAUSE OF ME !" Bakugo screamed.

"Kacchan, calm down."

"Izuku, it's serves nothing to try reasoning him. Moreover, I would like to contradict him, but..." Momo started

"Y/n was in danger because journalists saw them, with us. More precisely, with Bakugo. Your relationship is platonic, but the gossips were persuaded that you're going out. So the villain just kidnapped the person who the heroes care about, in particularly the number one. And he found y/n." Tenya said.

Bakugo stopped and disproportionately hurt the wall.

He knew it.

But fuck, if he looked out for...or if...

If you lived together, if he had the balls to confess at the graduating ceremony, maybe you would not been in the street but at his home or...

"Bro, you can't do anything to change the past. On other hand, when we will find them, it will be come the moment to be manly, dude !"

• The red hair was aware of Bakugo's feeling toward Y/n, the class, too. But he was the only who directly had the confirmation by Bakugo himself.

Eijiro even had thought that the blonde will confessed, but Bakugo wanted to be the number one before this, like he didn't deserve Y/n if he didn't reach this objective.

• "We will put all the means into action to find them. The important thing is to not let our feelings take over us. The more time we waste, the less chance we have found them safe." Jirou said.

• All nodded their heads.

Flashback :

"I'm sure that you will finish with a pro hero." Y/n said while they were eating with Bakugo on the roof.

That was during their third year at Yuei, all the Fridays lunch were with them.

All the lunch was for them, but sadly the Bakusquad didn't let him the choice. So he negotiated the Fridays.

"Tss why are you saying this ?"

" Well, I'm sure that if you let you carry away, you exploded. So imagine if a normal civil is sucking you and bam you exploded at their face in the both sens of the term..."

"Y/N WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ?!"

They laughed.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see your reaction. I'm sure that everything is working, even down there."

Bakugo grumbled.

"Tss, sure it works. If you wanted so bad, I will make you a round on it, asshole."

Y/n blushed.

"Maybe one day..."

Bakugo was surprised by the answer, but let this in suspense.

If he knew it...

He would have devoured this lips a long time ago.

He would have said to them so much compliments, at a point so high, that it would equal with his ego.

End of the flashback

"You have to sleep." Kirishima said.

"Fuck no, I stay here."

"He didn't call, and it's been a week. Katsuki, you must sleep. Don't even dare take a coffee, yourself said it was horrible for your "fucking and perfect health, extras." "

Bakugo put the goblet and let a frustration sigh.

Nothing.

Not a fucking ransom.

No demand of money, no explosions or news of them.

They were nowhere.

"WE GOT NEWS !" Izuku screamed.

Katsuki stood up, but a black stain appeared, following by several others before everything turned black, and he collapsed on the ground.

________________________________

"Hello Aurora Bakugo, and welcome to the world of the living." a distant voice said while he painfully opened his eyes.

'Shit even here you placed a Disney reference y/n." Katsuki grumbled

He stopped himself.

Y/n ?

Suddenly he straightened up to see them next to him, with some injuries and a splint on the hand.

'Wait, what's going..."

"You fainted due to the lack of sleep and food. They took you to the hospital, where they did the necessary. It's been 10 hours since this, because like during high school, you're a grandpa who needs his sleep schedule."

" And you, you..."

"'are fine. The villain waited, to make it more dramatic and show my beauty at all the city's screens because "mouahahaha I stole Bakugo's partner", except that unfortunately for him, I'm not your partner. But, well, he was persuaded of the contrary and his ass was kicked."

" You can become it."

"What ? A villain ? Ah no, thanks. I put gloss, so I can't become a Tomura number 2, it will be a failure."

"Tss, I talked about been a partner."

"Deku will be jealous."

"Like you can equal him."

" It's true that his thighs are unbeatable."

"Yours too."

You blushed.

"You must be in morphine."

"No, I'm just under adrenalin because the person I dearly loved was kidnapped, and they're just here because I was a coward."

"You didn't be a coward. You're still a coward. But it had nothing to do with this kidnapping."

"I was unable to tell you, that I love you."

"But you made it today and, that's what it counts."

You smiled at him.

Oh, this radiant smile.

Fuck, he will be ready to fight with All Might just to see it.

"I love you back Katsuki, if your brain hasn't understood it yet, which maybe will the case seen how you stared the wall."

"Shut up, I just observed..."

"Observed ?"

"You."

You took his hand in your free one.

He leaned towards you, but...

"I may be disappeared, but your fresh breath too, above all that you stayed here ten hours. So if you want to passionately kiss me, you have to wait."

"I will wait for the time it takes. I'm the fucking number one."

"With Izuku."

"Shut up."

You laughed.

Yes you disappeared on his life, on his heart, on this city, but now you're back...

He, sure, count to brush his teeth to finally kiss you.

But he wants, too, to give you the envy to stay at his side in order that never this lack reappeared.

(sorry for my mistakes and my english, it‘s not my first language

(ó﹏ò｡)

#boku no hero imagines #katsuki imagine #bakugo katsuki #katsuki #my hero academia #mha imagines #mha #bnha

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dinfeanoriel · 4 years

Text

Safeguard

Hey! I’ve been gone awhile, but I’m back with a little something!

~~~~~~~~~

His face was familiar.

Then again, all of their faces were familiar because they were their own. As strange as it was to say, the resemblance between the nine was uncanny and undeniable.

But his...His was far more familiar to Time. Something about it nagged at him. It was constantly poking and prodding, urging him to delve deep into his mind and strive to uncover, to find out, why he recognized him more so than the others.

With Twilight, it had clicked into place they were somehow related. A descendant of his from far down the line.

Could it be the same with him?

Remember.

Remember!

But he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to remember. Where he’d seen his face? That was a rather pointless endeavor and would undoubtedly lead to a fruitless search.

He recalled their first meeting vividly and both had experienced an eerie familiarity with one another for reasons they were unsure of. Time could tell from his carefully crafted expressions that Warrior recognized him also but was at a loss as to how and why.

This further confirmed to Time that they must have met once upon a time.

But when? How?

Surely, Time would have been able to recall such an extraordinary event. It wasn’t everyday one met an incarnation of themselves.

It also wasn’t everyday one met eight incarnations of themselves, and yet, here they were.

But, Time digressed

The resemblance between the two was striking. All of the Links had been taken aback and put off by it.

~~~~

“Are you two related?” Wind once asked. The Sailor was sitting between Warrior and Four, constantly looking between the Knight and the Old Man across from him.

“Thank you, Wind, for asking!” Legend expelled a breath, “I have been wanting to know for a while now!”

Wanting but never asking.

The others appeared to have wondered the same if their sudden interest in the conversation was of any evidence.

Twilight was certainly curious. While he and Time knew they were related, it was always possible for there to be more relatives.

Warrior gave a warm chuckle and shook his head, “No. We aren’t.”

He disheveled Wind’s hair for good measure, ignoring the Sailor’s indignant cry.

Time couldn’t help but frown at the answer. Something about it bugged him. Was it the forced sincerity behind Warrior’s voice? The frail conviction in his eyes? The bitterness and subtle scowl Warrior skillfully hid from the others?

He never dared to ask.

~~~~

Of course, it wasn’t only the Links who recognized the uncanny resemblance between the two. Time’s wife, Malon, had noted it. When Malon had first been introduced to the Links, her eyes were drawn to Warrior and then Twilight almost instinctively. Her eyes shuttered with something unknown, her heart tugging at something foreign yet more than welcome.

Time had already informed her of having met a descendant of their’s. At first, Malon believed it to be Warrior, then possibly Wind, only to discover later it was Twilight.

However, Malon appeared to be dissatisfied with something Time couldn’t pinpoint. She was overjoyed and exuberant from having learned they had a descendant. She’d been unable to quell her excitement and contagious, toothy, smiles for several days. She’d gushed to Time in a neverending stream of proud words and happiness about being able to meet Twilight.

~~~~

“That boy reminds me of you from when you were younger,” Malon once remarked to Time, drying a plate with a hand towel. “Sixteen, I’d have to say.”

“Warrior?” Funny how he knew exactly who she was referring to.

Malon hummed with a nod of her head, “He looks so much like you, it’s unbelievable! I was almost convinced I was staring at a younger version of you. As the Hero of Time, I wouldn’t have doubted it was.”

“You aren’t the first to make such a claim,” He’d informed his wife, instinctively searching for Warrior among the group of Heroes running about outside. They were indulging Wind in one of his favorite games, looking far more relaxed and at ease than Time had ever seen them.

He found Warrior nearest Twilight and struggled to hold back a laugh when a disgruntled Cucco leaped out from behind them, angrily flapping its wings and clucking furiously. The pure and unadulterated fear that crossed their faces and the comical widening of their eyes was something Time would forever remember.

To think a Cucco of all things was able to extract such sheer and absolute terror from those possessing the Triforce of Courage...

Wonders never ceased, Time supposed.

He’d never seen them move so fast before. Twilight and Warrior were gone before he could blink, kicking up a cloud of dust as they bolted across the ranch to safety. Legend, Hyrule, Wind, and Four were quick to drop everything and follow their example, fleeing for their lives and leaving behind an utterly baffled Sky.

Ever the bold one, Malon snorted,

“I believe it.”

Time hadn’t been able to shake those words from his mind ever since.

~~~~

It frustrated Time to no end that he was no closer to uncovering the answer he’d been seeking. It was so close yet so far away. Almost out of reach. Time wasn’t sure how to cross the distance without alerting Warrior.

When in the heat of battle, Time more-often-than-not found himself partnering with Warrior. The two made for an unbeatable duo who conquered the battlefield with hardly any effort.

They worked well together, adapting to one another’s style and technique without trouble and swooping in with a killing blow when the other faltered or stepped aside.

It pestered him.

A strange, niggling sensation told him this wasn’t the first they’d fought together. Nor would it be the last.

How was it possible?

What really took the cake was what occurred that night.

The Links were weary from a long day of travelling and exhausted from the three battles they’d partaken in. Setting up camp took longer than usual due to the bone-deep fatigue affecting each Hero. Still, Wild put together a wholesome meal for them to enjoy and the Links slipped into sharing a couple or so stories of their adventures.

Time merely listened, his stoic gaze slipping towards Warrior every-so-often. The Old Man had noticed something about the Knight. For as much as he loved to talk, his voice filling the silence and becoming something they were accustomed to listening to, they knew next to nothing about him.

Time mulled on this surprising fact, troubled. He sifted through a list of what he knew about the Knight:

1. He was a Knight 2. Obtained a nasty scar from the Dragon Knight Volga 3. Fought Ganondorf and a sorceress called Cia 4. Faced Dark Link 5. Fought a war 6. Has several sisters

The more Time thought, the steeper his frown became. He hardly knew anything about Warrior.

Why was this?

Warrior skillfully crafted each individual conversation he participated in. He manipulated the subject away from himself and slyly shifted the topic to others. When directly questioned about his adventure, Warrior gave a simple summary, skimmed over details, and wrapped it up promptly. None of them noticed for the way Warrior would speak, how he would draw them into a fascinating tale and keep them on their toes with suspense, distracted them from recognizing how he never directly spoke of himself.

Tonight, the Heroes were showing a few of their instruments to pass time until Wild finished cooking.

Legend and Sky compared their harps, Wind whipped out his baton and Spirit Flute, Hyrule revealed his recorder, and Twilight allowed Four to admire his Horse Call.

“What about you, Time?” Wind curiously asked, drawing the oldest Hero from his thoughts, “Do you have an instrument?”

Suddenly, Time found himself in the spotlight once more. He supposed it couldn’t hurt to join in just this once.

“I do,” Time replied, watching the Heroes perk up and look to him expectantly. He smothered a smile and shook his head, “I don’t suppose you would want to see?”

Wind bounded forward, “Oh yes!” he cried excitedly, “I want to see!”

Time huffed out a small chuckle, pausing long enough in his rifling through his pack to ruffle Wind’s already disheveled hair. Warrior would undoubtedly fix it later.

“Very well. It is a rare and incredibly important instrument.”

“Why is that?” Surprisingly, it was Legend who voiced the question. The snarky Hero drew closer, influencing the others to do the same. Before Time knew it, they had formed a crescent moon around him. Warrior sat across from him, Wind in his lap and arms loosely wrapped around the enthusiastic sailor. Twilight, Wild, and Hyrule were to their left with Legend, Sky, and Four to their right.

“It was given to me by Princess Zelda,” Time explained, carefully shifting through his pack to find his beloved instrument, “And it helped me greatly on my adventures.” Legend nodded in understanding.

At long last, Time felt the familiar outline of this beloved instrument and he delicately slipped it out for all to see. It was a tad amusing to see the awe and wonder appear in their eyes. Wind was especially amazed by the blue, peculiarly shaped and unfamiliar instrument.

“What is it?” Sky asked, briefly meeting Time’s eye.

“An Ocarina,”

Time stopped, mouth open but no words having escaped. The answer to Sky’s question lingered on the tip of his tongue, dissipating into nothingness the instant a different voice replied for him.

His gaze snapped to Warrior immediately. The Knight’s grip on Wind had tightened imperceptibly, his back and shoulders stiff, and disbelieving eyes glued to the Ocarina of Time. There was a strange, unrecognizable intonation to his voice Time told himself to pay close attention to.

He narrowed his own gaze, wondering at Warrior’s unexpected reaction. There was something more to it. The familiarity in which Warrior stared at the Ocarina of Time and the shock carefully hidden behind deep pools of blue.

Wind dropped his head back, peering up at Warrior quizzically,

“You’ve seen one before, Warrior?”

Upon hearing his voice, Warrior slowly blinked and shook himself from whatever daze had overtaken him. That infamous, charming, smile Warrior was known for stretched his lips and he answered, “I have, a long while ago,”

Time frowned at the vague response.

“They are incredibly rare, however,”

And there he went, deflecting the attention from himself back to Time.

“They are indeed,” Time agreed lowly, studying Warrior intently, “To my knowledge, there are only two Ocarinas. There could be more, but I have yet to find another.”

Before anymore could be said, Wild declared dinner was ready and the Links were up and gone in a flash.

~~~~

Young Link sat idly on a boulder in Hyrule Field, small legs kicking in the air as he hummed a catchy tune to himself. The battle had long since ended and he took this precious little time to rest and regain his strength before they moved out once more. He knew the call to march would sound soon and sorrow swelled in his heart. Young Link had seen plenty of darkness, death, and despair. He had witnessed the world’s end many times over and struggled to rescue a land threatened by a looming moon and a Mask wielding a great and terrible, ancient, power. He’d traveled through time, back and forth and back and forth, until he’d put an end to the King of Evil, returned the Master Sword, and warned Princess Zelda of the oncoming storm.

Now, here he was, warped into another world and whisked away on yet another adventure to help beat back the darkness poisoning the lands of this Hyrule.

In his hands, Link gingerly held the Ocarina of Time. Princess Zelda had given it to him- claimed it might one day help him. A subtle way of telling Link he would need it someday. The thought terrified him.

Everything was doom and gloom nowadays and it saddened Young Link to know of the evils and horrors people were capable of. Of the atrocities and tragedies many would suffer down the road.

It was hard accepting not everyone could be saved.

The quiet shuffling of booted feet drew Young Link from his dark, restless, thoughts and the boy in green turned his head to find a familiar Hylian approaching. His face was blurred, his figure distorted in a way to hide his identity. He could recognize the color green and blue and the blonde hair, but other than that, nothing.

Hands rose and signed quickly, gesturing to the Ocarina curiously.

Young Link grinned, a tinge of nostalgia slipping into the gesture, and answered,

“This is an Ocarina. The Ocarina of Time,” He presented it freely, unafraid. He knew he could trust this stranger implicitly.

The blurred figure nodded to themselves, and Young Link could imagine an intrigued frown twisting their lips.

“It’s an instrument!” Young Link brightly elaborated, cradling the Ocarina and bringing it up for the other to get a better look. He knew the knight wouldn’t try to steal from him, “A beautiful one too. It was given to me.”

“Ocarina...” The ghost of a whisper caressed Young Link’s ear and the child snapped his head up in surprise. This was the first time he’d heard the other’s voice. It was surprisingly warm and soft. Amiable and kind.

“You should talk more,” Young Link chirped from where he was perched, startling his companion, “You’re voice...it’s...it’s nice to hear.”

A shy chuckle echoed in his ears before darkness ringed around the edges, closing in...

“Thank you...”

~~~~

Time blinked his eyes open drowsily, squinting when tendrils of sunlight pierced them for a blinding moment. The remnants of his dream lingered in his mind, troubling the Old Man as he pondered on it.

It felt...familiar.

Real.

Like a distant memory. Lost due to the passage of time and then found again.

He sat up, his mind foggy and thoughts whirling in confusion. He raked a hand through his golden hair, wondering at the dream. Had it been a simple dream? Or was there more to it?

The more he mused on it, the pesky sensation in the back of his mind became stronger- telling him this was a memory he’d somehow suppressed and had freshly excavated.

The voice...

It struck him as eerily familiar and yet unfamiliar. He’d heard it once before.

“Old Man?”

Time blinked slowly, raising his head to find Legend standing before him with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ve been calling to you for a while now,” The red-clad Hero huffed, crossing his arms and inclining his head, “You were staring into oblivion...”

Time would have smiled at the hidden concern behind Legend’s words. His extremely subtle way of expressing worry and asking whether or not he was okay.

“I’m alright,” Time said, suppressing a groan when he drew himself to his feet. He must be getting old. His body kept protesting against movement of any kind. He was no longer as agile and nimble as he once was, but he was stronger and wiser. The older Hero clasped Legend’s shoulder and looked to find the seven other Heroes efficiently packing up camp under Warrior’s guidance. The Captain’s scarf fluttered in the strong breeze and Warrior fumbled to keep it from unraveling.

Warrior...

~~~~

Young Link watched his friend care and wash his blood-stained scarf. He scrutinized every inch of the fabric, checking to make sure there were no rips or tears.

“You really like your scarf, don’t you?” The small Hero stated with a small smile. His friend reminded him much of himself and how he treated the Ocarina of Time as if it were the most precious item in the world.

It was to him, and he supposed his friend held similar sentimentality towards his scarf.

His friend paused momentarily, sparing him a glance. His face was soft and open. There was no harshness or sternness now that the battle was over and they were granted time for respite before they would start again.

His friend’s eyes glimmered with an unknown emotion as he regarded the scarf he held in his hands.

“Yes,” He softly murmured with a nod of his head, “I do...It reminds me of him.”

Whoever ‘he’ was, Young Link never did discover, but he knew whoever they were, they must have been important to his friend.

~~~~

Time pursed his lips at the Knight. It aggravated him that he couldn’t pinpoint why he found the Captain awfully familiar.

Legend shuffled in place, gaze flitting from Time to Warrior. The intense look on their leader’s face, the narrowing of his eyes and searching gaze... What could he possibly be looking for?

Time hummed to himself, uncertain and curious, “I suppose a few questions are in order...”

Legend quirked an eyebrow at him but Time said nothing more. Instead, he pat Legend’s shoulder and moved away to help Wind untangle himself from the shrubs he’d miraculously caught himself up in.

The Sailor was a giggling mess, a fondly exasperated Warrior and amused Sky hovering about attempting to tug him out.

“Of all things, Wind, and I just did your hair-” Warrior halfheartedly scolded the teen,

“Come now, Warrior,” Time interjected smoothly, slipping beside the Captain, “I recall a certain incident at a particular waterfall-”

Legend’s curiosity was piqued when Warrior turned a surprising shade of red, stuttering,

“I-I have absolutely no idea what you’re referring to!”

Time’s deep laughter encompassed the air, his shoulders shaking from the movement. The Links looked on with interest. It was rare for their leader to laugh so freely and with such unrestrained warmth and mirth.

“Wait, what incident?” Hyrule wanted to know. “Yes, do tell!” Four encouraged.

Warrior floundered desperately.

“No, don’t!”

~~~~

It was when they were abruptly transported to Warrior’s world that things took an unexpected turn.

Twilight’d thought Warrior would be thrilled to return to his home and give them a tour of his Hyrule but his keen senses told him otherwise. Warrior was displeased and reluctant.

His confident and sure stature had wilted and his booted feet thumped against the ground a little heavier than normal.

He plastered on a fake smile to fool the others, but Twilight saw right through it. The Knight did not appear at all happy to be here and it baffled Twilight. The forced cheer in Warrior’s voice when he would speak and the faux-prep in his step were a facade he kept tightly wound about himself. A vain attempt to convince the Links he was beyond enthused to be back.

Twilight ambled a little behind Warrior, off to the side. He caught sight of the dark frown twisting his companion’s features and the contemplative, almost strained and hesitant look on his face. He could practically see the gears turning nonstop in the Hero’s head. His eyes had dimmed, becoming dark and stormy.

Quickening his pace, Twilight moved to walk alongside the Knight. Warrior snapped out of his thoughts upon catching his movement and shot the Ordonian a questioning look.

“Something you need, Twilight?”

Twilight shook his head at the split-second transformation he witnessed steal over his companion. The amiable tone, weak smirk, and glad expression.

“You aren’t fooling me, Warrior.”

Warrior faltered. It was slight, not really noticeable, but Twilight noted it. His smirk faded, growing frail and crackly until it vanished completely and the grim expression from before replaced the faux-delighted one. He looked away- another sign that something was bothering him.

It had to be something serious if it affected Warrior this much.

“Sorry,” Warrior apologized a little gruffly, staring down the path they were on, “This road brings back some awful memories.” His demeanor visibly darkened, “And what lies at the end is worse.”

Twilight could understand. While he didn’t know Warrior’s story, he knew how it could be. How a simple object, place, or person could dredge up the worst of memories.

“Is there a different path we could take?”

Warrior looked briefly surprised by Twilight’s suggestion, but shook his head. “Unfortunately, no, or I would have taken one. But I cannot-” Warrior cut off, clenching his fists, “Will not,” He managed to say between clenched teeth, “Run from it. I was bound to face it one day. Might as well be this one.”

Twilight averted his gaze. He was never one for sentimentality or comforting, but he darn well tried.

“It might not be much, but we’re here with you.”

This time, Warrior stopped briefly, lifting his head to stare at Twilight for a moment before a small, genuine, smile curved his lips and he started walking again.

“That’s more than I could ask for,” He admitted in a quiet murmur. Twilight recognized it for the thanks it was.

He stayed next to Warrior for the remainder of the trip and never strayed even as the sun began to fall and the moon gradually ascended.

~~~~

He walked alongside a tall, intimidating, Dragon Knight, swallowed up by his shadow. Volga had surprisingly taken a role as his protector- though Young Link had little need of one. He could hold his own quite well, thank you.

Their fellow soldiers were grim-faced and determined.

This tale was drawing to an end.

At least, he hoped. He didn’t want his friend to suffer more than he already had. He didn’t want him to experience the same horrors he himself had. If he could spare his friend that, Young Link would. It was a vow he kept close to his heart and strove his hardest to achieve.

The road was long and dark. The roiling clouds above thunderous and ominous, instilling a sense of foreboding in the armies trudging beneath them. Already, Young Link recognized the wavering resolve in some of the soldiers and he scowled.

Would there be more turncoats? Traitors? Those hurt his friend more than any physical wound ever could.

Speaking of his friend...

Cobalt blues scanned the faces of the nearby Knights, searching for one in particular. He spotted him marching up ahead, accompanying the Princess and General Impa discussing strategy.

Without a word, Young Link bounded away and hopped to his friend’s side. He could see the steely resolve in his face- so alike his own. Young Link had no doubt that his friend would succeed in ridding this world of the Sorceress’s curse and consequently saving Hyrule.

Hyrule was, in his empirical opinion, useless when it came to times likes these. It always fell upon the shoulders of the Hero to struggle, suffer, and strive to save her.

There was also a look in his friend’s eyes that Young Link found he didn’t like. Ever since his friend had retrieved the Master Sword, he’d grown reckless and prideful. Never a good combination.

Young Link feared for his friend. The upcoming battle would no doubt be the most difficult and trying and he knew if his friend didn’t snap out of it, he would wind up getting himself killed.

Well then, Young Link would just have to stick to his side and make sure he didn’t. It would be easier said than done, but more than worth it.

Without much thought, Young Link reached and tugged on his friend’s sleeve, drawing his attention from the Princess and the General. Then, grasping his hand, Young Link looked up to him.

“We’re almost there,”

His friend, Link, smiled and nodded curtly. His eyes- no longer hidden from sight or blurred- glinted with a strange light and Young Link found he didn’t like it.

He was far too confident. Far too sure now that he wielded the Master Sword.

“Cia’s house...” He murmured.

Once, Young Link celebrated and reveled in the rare moments his friend would speak for himself rather than through his fairy, but now...

He wished Proxi had spoken instead.

~~~~

“There it is,”

It was Warrior’s solemn voice that brought Time back to the present. His brow creased from the fickle memory that had come unwarranted to him. He wasn’t sure what had triggered it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this road they had taken was known to him.

The Links took in the sight before them.

The dark, foreboding Fortress Warrior knew they would have to seek shelter in for the night loomed in the distance. Time wandered closer to where Twilight and Warrior stood on the edge of a cliff. The instant his gaze fell on the building, Time knew where they were before Warrior told them.

“Cia’s House,”

The aloof tone unsettled the Links and they discreetly shot looks of concern towards Warrior. From the guarded look on his face, they knew he had some kind of history with this grand and eerie place.

And not a good one.

Legend thought he sensed dark magic poisoning the air and the ground and wondered at it. Warrior was strongly opposed to magic- especially dark magic. Had something happened here that served to influence the fierce hatred he bore against it?

Time frowned deeply.

Cia’s House...The place from his memory. He’d been here once before. But when? How? Why couldn’t he remember?

He looked long and hard at the structure as if it held all of the answers he sought. For some reason, he felt a stirring of anger, an odd coiling of fear, and fierce protection well up inside of him.

Protect...

Protect.

Protect!

Time winced when the word thundered in his mind, ricocheting off the walls and fading into nothingness.

Protect?

Protect what? Who?

A hand settled on his arm and Time turned to find Wild worriedly peerkng at him from beneath his hood.

“You doing alright, Pops?” He asked upon recognizing the pain and confusion minutely distorting the older Hero’s features.

“I...yes,” Time nodded slowly, a strong hand giving Wild a couple reassuring pats on his shoulder.

Wild clearly didn’t believe him but he knew better than to press. Something was frustrating Time yet the teen couldn’t tell what. He’d been watching the Old Man closely. Lately, he’d been absentminded and earlier, when they first started down the path after Warrior, he’d withdrawn into himself, eyes far away and mind distant.

It was as if he was recalling something- a faint memory of sorts. Wild knew that look well. He’d worn it more times than he cared to count.

“Look after Warrior,”

“Huh?” Wild blinked at the sudden words. Time didn’t appear to realize he’d spoken at all, instead starting forward and following the group down the cliffside to Cia’s House. “Look after Warrior..?” He repeated, bewildered. He scratched the back of his head and shrugged to himself.

Warrior had been acting odd. Perhaps Time was concerned for him?

~~~~

It was General Impa’s gruff cry that alerted Young Link to the fact that something was severely wrong. The genuine worry she didn’t bother to hide alarmed the small hero.

“Link, wait- that idiot!” She tripled her efforts, her large, sharp blade viciously swiping enemies and sending them sailing in all directions.

A sharp pang of pure, unadulterated fear raced through Young Link’s veins. His friend had run on ahead, just as he’d suspected he would do.

The Dragon Knight Volga slammed his weapon into the ground, flames encompassing his form as fury tinged with concern distorted his masked features. He scowled, fangs flashing in the light,

“That boy is going to get himself killed!”

Young Link snapped his head toward the displeased Dragon Knight, eyes wide with unrestrained worry.

Without waiting for Volga, Young Link shot off, a trail of destruction left in his wake.

“I have to find him!”

The urge to use the Fierce Deity Mask festered within the young hero, but he valiantly quashed it. He effortlessly destroyed any enemies that got in his way- the need to make sure his friend was safe and sound feeding this newly found strength and sudden rush of adrenaline that kept his legs pumping.

A burst of hot air slammed into his back and past him as Volga sprinted along side him,

“You are just as reckless,” Came his guttural growl, flames brilliantly bright.

“Link is surrounded!” Came the Princess’s powerful, reverberating, voice, and another blast of sheer terror stole Young Link’s very breath away, “There are Dark Links appearing everywhere!”

Young Link willed himself to go faster. Dark Links? As in plural? His friend had no experience facing an evil incarnation of himself! How could he face more than one?

He desperately clung to the hope he would reach him in time.

~~~~

When Time next stirred, it was a handful of hours before dawn. Heaving a quiet sigh, the oldest Hero drew himself up into a sitting position and turned his head to appraise the slumbering Links around him.

Wind was curled into a tight ball underneath his blanket, Four calmly sleeping nearest him with his hands folded on his chest. Hyrule had one arm and leg cast out from underneath his thick cloak, and his head pillowed on his left arm.

Twilight and Wild were back-to-back, the former of the Heroes having chosen not to transform for the night. They slept near identical to one another, with an arm curled beneath their heads and cushioning them from the unforgiving, stone, ground and blankets drawn past their shoulders.

Sky was a mess of sprawled limbs. Time huffed out a quiet laugh at the ungainly sight. For such an amiable, kindhearted, and soft-spoken hero, Sky moved an unbelievable amount during the night and often awoke with his arms and legs haphazardly thrown here and there.

Legend was lying on his stomach, his pack shoved underneath his head and an arm bent close to his face. His face was smoothed over in his sleep, the typical scowl and moody furrow creasing his brow absent. He looked young, untroubled, and unburdened. Sorrow tugged at Time’s heart. He knew Legend had experienced much- more than most of the others combined and he wondered why the Goddess had chosen to send him on one adventure after another.

Yet, Time also held admiration and respect for the teen. Despite everything he’d gone through, Legend still persevered and pressed on. He had become almost detached to life and did his best to avoid making connections, but little by little, he was starting to open up and establish a strong, unbreakable, bond with the rag-tag group of wayward Heroes.

A troubled frown pulled at Time’s lips. What would happen after this adventure was over? What would become of the Heroes? Would they still be able to contact one another? Or would they never see one another again, left only with memories they would forever treasure and cherish?

He stubbornly silenced the thoughts in his mind and looked to the Knight still on watch...

Only to find Warrior gone.

Time stiffened and turned every-which-way in search of the Captain.

He was nowhere to be found.

The Old Man stood immediately, ensuring the make-shift campsite was secure before heading off to find the missing Link. Where could he have gone? Why had he abandoned his post? It was unlike Warrior to do so. Even if he went to investigate something, Warrior knew better than to go alone.

What had prompted him to leave on his own without waking one of his companions?

Time didn’t know but he was going to find out.

He left the campsite and turned down the vast corridor towards the main room of Cia’s House. His feet moved instinctively, knowing exactly where they would find the Knight.

It might have been ages ago, but he still remembered...

Brief flashes and blurred images flickered across his mind the deeper into the House he went, and Time realized he did know where he was heading.

He’d been here before...

Long ago.

In a time long forgotten and newly remembered.

~~~~

“He’s in trouble!” Young Link cried, bolting down the corridors and racing towards where his friend was trapped.

Volga chased after him. They were joined by a determined Ruto and seething Midna, both racing to reach Link before anything ill befell him.

“He’s more of an idiot than my idiot,” He barely overheard Midna hissing in displeasure.

“We can lecture him later,” Ruto peacefully intervened before the Twili could continue, “Right now, we have to reach him before the Dark Links do!”

~~~~

Time’s lips curled back in a grimace at the paintings decorating the walls. He certainly did not miss the sight of those.

The Sorceress had been wholly and utterly obsessed with the Bearer of the Triforce of Courage. It was disturbing.

The Hero of Time continued on his short trek through Cia’s House, slowing to a stop almost instinctively when he reached the room he dreaded to see.

~~~~

Young Link couldn’t describe the onslaught of emotions and feelings that took him captive when he skidded around the corner to find his friend surrounded by Dark Links.

His heart leaped into his throat and his eyes went impossibly wide with terror when they lunged at him simultaneously.

“NO!” The desperate, heart-rending cry ripped from his throat.

“You IDIOT!” Midna practically screeched.

“LINK!”

“We won’t reach him in time-” It was the Dragon Knight’s terse declaration that shattered Young Link’s world completely and made him understand.

They had arrived too late.

~~~~

Time peered into the vast chamber he knew Warrior would be in.

The Knight stood only a few feet inside, not daring to move any further. His face was a blank canvas, carefully shielded, and eyes dark and stormy as he recalled those terrible days.

He was silent. Grave and solemn.

It was a sight Time had never before seen. Not with Warrior.

He was small. Insignificant compared to the expansiveness of the room they were in.

“I almost died here...”

Warrior’s voice was quiet. Steady and collected but his tone shook with an unknown emotion. He swallowed thickly, a fist pressed to his chest.

“I thought I would...”

- The unbridled fear. The widening of cobalt blues, swimming with undiluted terror and horrified understanding-

The Old Man was reminded of a time not too long ago in which Sky allowed Hyrule to wield the Master Sword. The words Warrior had stated so simply and nonchalantly back then lingered in the back of his mind, troubling the Hero...

~~~~~

“Just a beauty, isn’t she?” Warrior remarked as the Links watched Hyrule admire the Master Sword he held in his hands. The beauty and craftsmanship took him aback. They could recognize the awe and wonderment in his dark eyes.

“I’m at a loss for words,” Hyrule admitted in a respectful whisper, a smile splitting his lips as he pointed the Master Sword forward. She moved with such grace and elegance. A fine blade. No other could hope to surpass her.

“With that blade, you feel invincible,” Warrior said, wagging a finger in Hyrule’s direction. Twilight’s gaze flicked to him, a slight frown on his face,

“That’s a dangerous way of thinking,” The Ordonian remarked, voicing Time’s thoughts aloud.

Warrior said nothing to defend himself.

“Almost cost me my life,”

~~~~

“You were reckless,” Time’s low voice quietly broke the silence encompassing the room.

Warrior didn’t startle. He’d likely sensed Time’s presence before the Hylian had spoken. A self-deprecating laugh fleetly followed.

“I was overconfident,” The Knight agreed, lowering his head with shame, “If it hadn’t been for the others...For Lana...I wouldn’t be here.”

Time moved swiftly, coming to stand beside Warrior.

“Sometimes, I wonder what might have happened,” Warrior continued, lifting his gaze and staring ahead, unable to look Time in the eye, “If I had fallen- if Lana had been a second late and the Darks succeeded... what would have become of Hyrule if I had failed?”

Time shook his head with a stern frown, grasping Warrior’s shoulder gently but firmly,

“No one can give you an answer to that, Warrior. There is no way to know and you will never find out. Dwelling on what-ifs is a wasteful endeavor- and one that does more harm than good. Because of Lana, because of your friends and allies, you still live. You are still here.”

“And for that, I am forever grateful,” Warrior earnestly told Time, clenching his fists, “But that doesn’t change the fact that because of my foolishness and pride, my overconfidence, I could have cost Hyrule everything.”

Time hummed, “That is a possibility, but that is all it is- a possibility. There are things all of us wish we can go back, erase, and start anew,” The Hero smiled wanly, “But if it weren’t for those experiences, for the lessons we learned, or the struggles we underwent, none of us would be where we are now. There are regrets. There will always be lingering regrets we will never truly rid ourselves of...” Time knew this well. It was and always would be the harsh reality, “You have learned and grown since then, Warrior, and have taken to teaching the others what you yourself have learned.”

Now Time felt he had an understanding of Warrior.

“Almost cost me my life,”

The simple statement that had bugged Time for months now made more sense. He was issuing a warning. It was subtle but it was there. He was telling the others not to allow the power of the Master Sword to go to their heads. He was making sure none of them would take the Blade of Evil’s Bane for granted. A lesson he had learned and taken to heart.

“I suppose,” Warrior conceded with a slight nod.

Time appraised him somberly.

“Forgiving one’s self is the most difficult and arduous task we will all experience in our lifetime,” He squeezed Warrior’s shoulder, “Some will succeed and some will not, but, Warrior, though it may amount to nothing, I never held it against you. Nor did any of the others.”

Warrior’s head snapped up at record speed. For a second, Time believed he might have given himself whiplash. Stunned cobalt blues bored into Time’s own, confusion mingled with a faint trace of hope easily recognizable.

“You..?”

Time released another warm laugh, “I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” He told the Captain, “But for the life of me, I could never pinpoint from where or when. During the past few days, I started to remember. That little boy in green you met on the battlefield? The one wielding the biggoron sword?”

Why on Hylia’s green earth Time had chosen to use that blade was still beyond him. It had been far too big for him then.

Warrior could have choked, “That was you?!” Then his expression brightened and a brilliant, beaming, smile broke out. It was a most welcome sight for Time to see. The genuine happiness, shock, and relief Warrior sported meant more than the Captain would ever know, “Of course it was you! I thought- I couldn’t bring myself to believe it-” He trailed off, raking his fingers through his hair as he attempted to wrap his mind around this unexpected revelation, “The Ocarina was a dead give away but I thought it was mere coincidence you had one.”

“That was the first time I heard your voice,” Time found himself saying. Warrior chuckled faintly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I can’t believe it...” Still, the smile never left Warrior’s face. “It was you all along.”

“You would think the title The Hero of Time would have given it away,” Time mused, a hint of teasing in his tone.

Warrior turned red and floundered pathetically, “Yes- well- I-um...” He deflated, grumbling moodily, “There is nothing I can say in my defense.”

Time ruffled his hair. Then, without warning, he cuffed the back of Warrior’s head. The Knight cried out indignantly, leaning away from Time and shooting him a mild glare,

“What was that for?!”

The Knight rubbed at his head with one eye squeezed shut and the other locked on the Old Man.

“That was for being an idiot,” Time promptly answered, “I was too short to knock you on your head last time.”

And too relieved.

But as Time listened to Warrior’s unrestrained, if a bit embarrassed, laughter and shaky apologies, the Old Man knew deep down in his heart, that he would have done anything to safeguard the Captain. He would have given anything if it meant saving Warrior.

~~~~

The instant Lana’s barrier fell and the Darks were taken care of, Young Link dropped everything he held and spun around to throw himself at his friend. His poor, frantically beating heat did not slow, unable to handle the terrible scare it had suffered.

His friend crashed to his knees, catching him in his strong arms and crushing him close. Young Link threw his own around his neck, clutching tightly and he screwed his burning eyes shut against the tears gathering within them.

Both refused to let one another go.

Young Link feared if he did, his friend would disappear. What had nearly happened, the close call his friend had experienced, did not release its hold on him. He’d almost lost his dear friend. He’d almost borne witness to his gruesome demise.

If they had been a millisecond too late...

His small body trembled and Young Link realized his dear friend, Link, was also shaking. His breathing was uneven and hitched every now and then and the boy in green understood his friend was only now realizing what the true cost of his pride and overconfidence could have been.

“Don’t ever do that again!” Young Link fiercely whispered in one pointed ear, tightening his hold. He might be choking his friend, but he was too relieved to care at the moment. “Ever! I thought-” His voice caught on a sob, droplets of silver rain falling free, “I thought I was going to l-lose you!”

The blue-scarfed Hero exhaled shakily, burying his face in his hair and murmuring tremulously,

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

His hands trembled violently, his body quaking and Young Link pulled back to give his friend a wobbly smile.

“Don’t be,” He hiccuped, dragging his arm across his eyes and meeting his dear friend’s watery gaze. There was deep regret, heart rending remorse, and unfathomable guilt swimming in them and he shook his head, “I’m just...happy you’re still here.”

He was given a similar, shaky, smile,

“Me too.”

~~~~

#Linked Universe #linkeduniverse #Legend of Zelda #Time #Warrior #Din writes

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gia-batmm-crickle22 · 3 years

Text

Fallen Angels - One-shot

"And the winners are... CRUSHER AND RUDY!"

The crowd reluctantly cheered as the cheater and his so-called teammate crossed the finish line first. Crusher cackled victoriously as he waved to the crowd.

For the first time in months, his cheating finally paid off. He finally beat Blaze at the race and won the Team Truck Challenge. His giant cheese balls managed to stop the red truck from ever reaching the finish line.

But at what cost?

A few minutes later, Blaze appeared at the finish line with AJ.

Alone.

Both had expressions of heartbreak and rage. Their eyes were redshot as they crossed the finish line. They turned to Crusher, who huffed at their dismay.

"So the unbeatable Blaze FINALLY lost a race, huh?" he smirked. "I KNEW that I was better than you,"

"Oh, enjoy your victory, Crusher, go on!" Blaze snarled. "You have NO idea what you just did!"

"Uh, cheat my way to win? Duh!" Crusher rolled his eyes before looking around. "Now where's Pickle? Don't tell me you left him to go fast and win by yourself? Psh, and they call YOU a great teammate,"

"He's..." AJ hissed, shutting his eyes to fight the tears as he dismounted from the driver's seat and clenched his fists. "He's gone,"

"What?" Crusher looked confused. "He left? In the middle of the race? Psh, of course he did. He couldn't stay focus on one activity, even if he wanted to,"

"No, he didn't leave." AJ gritted his teeth, glaring up. "He's... gone-gone."

"He's DEAD, Crusher!" Blaze yelled out. "HE'S FREAKING DEAD BECAUSE OF YOUR CHEAT!"

Crusher was taken back before scoffing, unconvinced. "Yeah right, like I'm gonna believe that. I'm not an idiot, Blaze,"

"HE IS DEAD, YOU... YOU BASTARD!" Blaze roared out, punching the dark blue truck with all his rage. "HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"Still not buying it," Crusher rolled his eyes and turned around to leave. "Hey, PICKLE, when you're done with this game that you and Blaze are playing, meet me back at our place!"

Blaze and AJ stared at the other in disbelief as he left the desert.

He was gonna realize the truth.

And when he did, it was gonna ruin him.

It's been weeks since the Team Truck Challenge. Blaze had told the news to the other racers, and they all mourned for the green truck.

Only Crusher didn't. He didn't even show up in the Monster Dome the day after the challenge, or at any day after the challenge.

Instead, he was at home, waiting for Pickle to come back. He had cleaned up the place and cooked himself meals and organized the house over and over again. He had sat on the couch and waited for the green truck to arrive.

But he never came.

But Crusher never lost hope. Instead, he just thought of the scenarios that could happen once the green truck came back.

"Hey, Pickle, heard you lost the race? Eh, told you that you weren't up for racing,"

"Pickle, what took you so long to get back home? You couldn't have been THAT slow, right?"

"Pickle, the place's been cleaned so many times! What took you so long?!"

"Hey, Pickle, where've you been? DId you get lost getting home again?"

And this went on for weeks and weeks. Soon, those weeks turned into months.

And he never once left his apartment to race.

Blaze was hesitant as he stood in front of Crusher's apartment door. He knew that he should be mad at the dark blue truck for what had happened months ago at the race, and he really was, but it worried him that no one has seen tire nor skin of him since then.

"Are you sure he even wants to see us?" AJ asked.

"Definitely not, but we need to make sure he's okay," Blaze told him before knocking on the door.

After a while, Crusher answered it, opening the door. He looked exhausted, the bags visible under his eyes, but he still managed to smirk at them.

"Oh, what a surprise!" he cackled. "You two ready to challenge me to a race after your loss months ago?"

"And to think we were SO worried about you," AJ rolled his eyes.

"About what?" Crusher raised an eyebrow.

"Crusher... how long have you been staying inside your place?" Blaze asked.

"As long as I can to wait for Pickle to come back, duh,"

Blaze and AJ grimaced. The boy sighed and got off of Blaze's driver seat.

"Crusher... Pickle's long gone,"

"You're lying," Crusher huffed. "And whatever you guys are planning to try to humble me down, it's NOT gonna work,"

"But we aren't-"

SLAM!

The duo winced as the door slammed shut in front of them. AJ let out a sigh.

"Blaze... I don't think he's gonna accept the truth that easily,"

"I hope he does," Blaze shook his head. "but I know that it's hard to have your best friend suddenly... die, so I hope he'll be okay when he realizes the truth,"

The months stretched further than anyone could count. Crusher was still inside his apartment, waiting for his best friend.

He didn't eat. He didn't sleep. He didn't leave to race. He didn't do anything but... wait.

And he kept waiting.

Unmoving from his spot on the couch.

Until one day...

KRIIING! KRIIING!

Crusher picked up his phone to answer the call.

"Hello?"

["Hey, Crusher,"] the familiar voice of Pickle's sister Millie rang through. ["How are you?"]

"Doing fine," Crusher shrugged. "Is Pickle with you?"

["..."] There was a pause from the other line before she responded. ["Crusher... Pickle's been dead for months now,"]

"He... what?" Crusher shook his head, refusing to believe it. "No, that can't be. It can't,"

["...oh, I see,"] Millie sighed. ["You're... You're still at THAT stage. Okay, I get it. Hope you feel better,"]

With that, the call ended. Crusher was confused as he glanced down at his phone. He sent texts to the rest of the Pickle Family, questioning if it was all true.

If Pickle was really gone.

And all he got were confirmations and pictures of the funeral. Of the tombstone.

Of the truth.

Crusher still couldn't believe what he was hearing and seeing. He had shakily dropped the phone and stared at the wall in horror.

HE was the one to blame this.

It was HIS cheat that had killed his best friend.

He saw it now.

And now, he wished he could take it all back.

Another few months flew by. Crusher was still inside his apartment.

But this time, he knew the truth, and it burnt in his mind and heart. Every word he had last spoken to the green truck guilted him.

Every time he had ignored him.

That one and only time he had used his cheats against him.

And now, he couldn't do anything to take back anything he did or said.

Now, he was too late.

Now, he could only think of scenarios of the past. Alternate scenarios of the things he could have said to his best friend before he died.

"Hey, Pickle, thanks for the cotton candy!"

"Maybe you're right, Pickle, maybe I shouldn't use this against them,"

"I know you're trying hard to help me, Pickle, and I appreciate your efforts,"

"You're right, Pickle, I shouldn't have taken the tools away,"

"You're right, maybe those bouncy tires aren't completely worth it..."

"Okay, Pickle, maybe it wasn't such a good idea kicking Darington out of his own stunt..."

"Thanks for helping me repair my boat, Pickle, I appreciate it,"

If only he had been nicer.

If only he had been better.

If only he hadn't cheated.

Things would have been nicer, better for them all if he hadn't cheated. A lot of things would have been better.

And Pickle wouldn't have died.

Just as he was downing himself and hugging himself at the corner of the living room, the door swung open, and he glanced up at a familiar figure entering the house...

"Hey, guys, I'm a little worried," Darington spoke up as he and the others gathered at Gabby's pit. "As much as I like racing without a cheat knocking us out, I'm kinda worried where Crusher is,"

"Same here," Stripes agreed.

"Crusher not showing up at races anymore," Zeg added.

"Blaze, AJ, didn't you boys say that you visited Crusher months ago?" Starla asked.

"We did," Blaze nodded. "but... he wasn't mentally stabled at that time,"

"He was still bragging about the Team Truck Challenge," AJ said. "and he was still in denial that Pickle's really gone,"

"Maybe we should head over and make sure he's okay," Gabby suggested.

"You're right, Gabby, we should," Blaze gave a nod of agreement.

The other racers agreed without hesitation then they all drove off out of the Monster Dome, with Gabby getting on her ATV. They all made it to Crusher's apartment, and Blaze was about to knock at the door when he heard laughing form inside.

"Is that... Crusher?"

"Yeah, it is," Starla frowned. "And he sounds... happy?"

"Why would he be happy? Pickle just died!" Darington cried out.

"Crusher, are you in there?" Blaze knocked on the door.

Laughter was the only response. worrying the monster machines. They opened the door and found Crusher at the corner, laughing to himself. The place was messier than they had thought as he stayed at the corner and didn't bother to move.

"Crusher...?"

"Oh, hey, guys!" Crusher turned to them with a wide smile that made them all wince.

"Crusher, are you okay?" Stripes asked.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?!" Crusher laughed.

"Crusher, Pickle's been dead for months," Starla pointed out.

"You guys are silly, he's right here!" Crusher motioned to the empty space beside him. "Right, Pickle?!"

"Uh, guys, I think he's hallucinating," Gabby whispered.

"I think that you might be right," AJ hissed and turned to his best friend. "Blaze?"

"Yeah..." Blaze sighed and drove forward. "Crusher... no one's there,"

"Psh, you're all crazy," Crusher chuckled.

"Look who's talking..." Stripes murmured.

"Stripes, be nice," Zeg told the tiger truck off.

"Crusher, please," Blaze sighed. "Do you want us to take you to the mental hospital? To a therapy? We wanna help, Crusher, please,"

"I'm fine, and so is Pickle!" Crusher insisted with a grin, wrapping his tire around nothing but air.

"Blaze, I don't think he's fine," Starla shook her head.

"I know, I know," Blaze frowned and turned away. "but we can't help if he doesn't want us to help,"

"Bye! Thanks for visiting!" Crusher giggled, his laughter off as the trucks all drove out of his apartment.

"We'll visit again tomorrow," Blaze told his friends as they left. "Maybe... Maybe he'll be fine by tomorrow,"

Months had passed. Crusher was still not better.

He was still inside his apartment, laughing and joking with the 'Pickle' he was seeing. The other racers came every day to check on him, but he still insisted that he was fine and that everything was fine.

That he was okay.

That Pickle was still alive.

After those months, however, they were horrified at the news of Crusher...

...and how the police found his body at the bottom of the bridge on the other side of Axle CIty...

#blaze and the monster machines #batmm #crusher #pickle #death #alternate ending

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spaceyantique · 4 years

Text

five’s a crowd [beatles x reader] part six

chapter summary: It’s game night with your bug boys, and it goes about how you would expect. John is chaotic, Paul does very little to contain that energy. Ringo confirms that he IS, in fact, an old man, and you and George spend the evening sharing an armchair.

warnings: there is drinking and some (offscreen) drug use. we don’t condone drugs! please be safe!

these chapters certainly are getting longer, yeet. let @kalypsichor and i know what you think and if there’s anything you want to see!

masterlist

one | two | three | four | five

What can you say? Between his sweet personality and those bluer-than-blue eyes, Ringo always gets his way. You’d tried as best you could to avoid any more pure, unadulterated John-related chaos, but Paul had teamed up with Ringo for an unbeatable duo of puppy-dog eyes. They’d cornered you in the kitchen one day until you finally relented, damn them.

So, that Saturday night, you’re all squished around the table in the living room as Ringo slams down a comically large board game box. From the way his eyes light up as he looks at it, you’d think it would be glowing gold and sparkling, Cave of Wonders-style.

“Fuck’s this about?” John’s brow furrows at the name on the box. He’s already gone through half his first drink of the night: a vodka tonic with more vodka than most people would go for. Paul’s hanging over his shoulder with a beer, also a bit tipsy.

“Clue! It’s my favorite game of all time!” Ringo’s excitement is endearing and sunshine-yellow, as always.

“Thought we were playin’ Monopoly.”

“We’re trying to mend friendships, John.” Ringo fixes him with a false-stern look.

“Yeah, John, Monopoly is a game that only ends in violence. ‘Sides, I actually like Clue,” you say.

“A board game nerd too. Who knew?” George smirks. He’s got a beer in his hand as well. Though you’re overall not thrilled to be forced to participate in another night of John Lennon ruining the apartment, you can certainly say that a pro is that you’re next to George. You’re sharing the overstuffed armchair because John and Paul have claimed the couch (“for canoodling,” Ringo accused), and you can feel the warmth of George’s thigh even through your jeans. How is this boy so warm?

For a second, you catch yourself thinking of the last board game night, which ended with you and George next to each other not so unlike tonight. Unfortunately, it had been in a dark closet during a drunken game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, and you’d been too awkward even with the alcohol to try anything.

Thankfully, you’re brought back to reality by Ringo unfurling the instructions across the table. They’re nearly too large for him to fully open with his arms extended and you have a sudden vision of him as Clark Griswold from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

“Right!” Ringo declares, now unfolding the game board. “Everyone pick a character. There’s six, so everyone gets their own, no teams.”

“Red!” John lunges across the table for the red, but misses slightly in doing so and scatters the other pieces across the board. He’s met with a chorus of indignant cries and Paul smacking his bicep. “Sorry! Got to have me color!”

“Right then, John’s Miss Scarlett.”

John dramatically reclines on the sofa with girlish flair.

“Paul! Paint me like one of your French girls!” Paul rolls his eyes, muttering something about the importance of nude modeling to the art world and how John would take advantage of it.

George quietly takes the green piece and places it on his starting square, then turns to you.

“It matches my socks,” he says with a smile. Your heart flutters as you see that he’s wearing said fuzzy green socks right now. Don’t blush, please don’t blush, for God’s sake.

Instead, you grab the nearest piece to you (blue) and place it on your spot.

“I’ll be Miss Peacock.”

Ringo picks Colonel Mustard and George and John goad Paul into being Professor Plum (“Professor Paul! It fits, you’ve bloody GOT to!”). As Ringo deals the cards, Paul whispers something to John and heads to the kitchen, claiming he’s getting a drink. He does come back with a six-pack of hard cider, but he also places a phone down in the center of the board, on top of the Top-Secret envelope with the winning cards.

“Is that where my phone was? I’ve been looking all day for it,” George asks as you crack open your can of cider.

“It’s the prize,” John says, his mouth curling into that wicked, Grinch-like smirk once again. As stupidly smug as he is, you’re a bit drunk and it’s hard to keep a grin off your face. “Whoever wins gets to decide who gets the phone.”

“It’s my phone, though. I bought it, I paid for it.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Does too!”

“Well, now it’s a part of the game! We play for it.”

George, rolling his eyes, goes to reach for the phone, but a hellish shriek from John and Paul’s protest stops him.

“Thou shalt honor the game!” Paul cries.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Bad things!” Paul’s grinning widely now and you’re biting your lips to keep from smiling. “Like in Jumanji!”

“Yes, we get sucked into a jungle world for years and years until someone finishes a board game that we left in the attic and releases us and we have to fight all the animals they unleash too.” Ringo’s smiling now too, and George reluctantly agrees to play for his phone. “Then we’d best start now! Usual rules, plus each time you move, you drink.”

“Don’t worry,” you whisper to George, feeling a bit bold from the warmth of the alcohol already. “I’m pretty good at this game. I’ll win it back for you.”

The smile he gives you increases that warmth in your body tenfold.

***

It turns out you are not, in fact, pretty good at Clue. It has a lot to do with your cards, and thanks to Paul’s subpar shuffling skills, you have a shit hand. Several turns in, and you’re not at all close to solving the murder of Dr. Black. Your lack of strategy also may have something to do with the fact that you’re onto your second drink (rum and Coke but with diet Pepsi because it’s cheaper). However, you’re relatively confident in winning, as John both does not know the rules and doesn’t currently have the capacity to learn them.

“Then... then I’ll use that portal. The secret passage,” John slurs, and Ringo shakes his head adamantly.

“No, you can’t, John. The passage is in the greenhouse. You’re not in the greenhouse.”

“Well then, where am I?” Ringo points at John’s red piece in the ballroom.

“How the hell did I get over there?!”

“Honestly, John, are you high as well as drunk?” You ask with a smile. He takes a liberal slug of his vodka tonic before responding in a deadpan: “This is my personality.” Behind him, Paul mouths “a bit high,” and you giggle.

“Oi, you’re one to talk!” John shoves Paul with his shoulder, still with that easy smile on his face.

“Look, y’know, the people have right to know, it’s-”

“The people! The people? What fucking people?”

“What’s all this?” Ringo looks up from his expertly technical dice roll.

“They’re drunk,” George laughs.

“Can we get on with it, lovebirds?” You shift in your seat and are suddenly reminded of being pressed against George’s whole side. You can practically feel him breathing.

“Yeah, some of us are trying to win here. The stakes are high,” George grins. “So if you two could pull your heads out of each other’s arses-”

There’s a chorus of laughter around the table, and John drops his cards with a hilariously restrained “oh shit.”

With a good deal of direction from Ringo (“‘S like herding cats, the lot of you!”), gameplay continues.

“Alright… John, do you have… the rope?” Ringo bites his lip, glancing over his cards and his scratch sheet of paper. John gasps.

“What? How’d you know that?” He cries, and you laugh, leaning towards George a bit more without thinking. You let your head fall onto his shoulder and suddenly you’re back in that darkened closet again. You’d sat just like this on the floor, but with your knees curled up against your chest. Your head was on his shoulder, and his hand was so close to yours-

George stiffens a bit, and as if you’d been shocked, you sit straight up. You make eye contact with Paul accidentally, and for a second, that infamous pout curls into a smirk. You hear an echo of his voice in your head. I’ll get the truth out of you one of these days, y’know. Your eyes fall to Geo’s phone lying on the board, and you suddenly realize that it was Paul who’d gotten it from the kitchen, not John.

“Conspiracy!” John shouts suddenly, both echoing your thoughts and shaking you out of them.

“It’s not a fucking conspiracy, John, you guess, it’s how you play-” George argues.

“Ringo must be cheating!”

“How do you not know how the game works?” Paul teases, and John scrunches up his nose at him.

“Well, I was doing just fine until you-”

“Don’t blame me for your incompetence-”

“Incompetence!?” John practically shrieks, and Ringo snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Off with his head!” George says, and pantomimes cutting his own head off. He lets his ‘severed’ head loll back onto the armchair’s cushioned back, exposing his neck. He’s got such a lovely neck, more slender than one might expect. It’s long and the tendons and muscles are defined, and his collarbones peek out just a bit over the neckline of his shirt. He’s been wearing his hair curly for the past several days, and it goes in waves past his ears, ending in a little flick just below his earlobe. The sun has set by now, and in the lamplight, his skin looks like gold. Your eyes travel back up his hair, and you suddenly notice-- oh, fuck, he’s looking at you.

You snap your head back to the game so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. John and Paul are still arguing, and you just barely catch Ringo sneaking a peek at John’s cards while his guard is down.

“Hey! Hey… do you wanna fight?” Paul says, and leans close to John’s face.

“... no.” John’s tone is sheepish but he’s smiling widely.

“Good.” Paul leans a touch closer. You swear John almost stops breathing.

Your eyebrows nearly hit your hairline as George snickers.

“God, get a room,” Ringo sighs, and John leaps up from the couch, Paul not far behind.

“Gents, fair lady, I’ve forgotten something in my room, and I’ve got to… get it.” With that, John stumbles down the hall towards his and Paul’s bedroom.

“I’m… helping him.” Paul rushes out too.

“Then there were three,” George says after a beat of silence.

“Two,” Ringo says, standing and stretching. “S’pose that’s the end of it, so I’m going to put my headphones on as quickly as possible.” He bids you and George goodnight and then heads to their shared room, taking the fleece blanket from the couch with him.

“Smart move,” you say. “Poor Freddie upstairs said his bedroom’s just above John and Paul’s. He’s about to get a free show.”

“With surround sound,” George says, and you snort. Reluctantly, you force yourself to get up, detaching from George’s side and busying yourself with picking up the cups, cans, and bottles littering the various surfaces in the living room. As you release your armful into the kitchen sink, George’s sudden shout from the living room startles you.

“You idiot bastard! That’s what this was about?” You turn to see George still standing in the living room, hunched over his phone and calling down the hall to John and Paul’s room.

“You put fucking TINDER on my phone?!”

#five's a crowd #beatles x reader #george x reader #george harrison x reader #beatles fic #crack fic #paul #george #ringo #john #BOARD GAME MADNESS

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corinthbayrpg · 4 years

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NAME. Rafael Yilmaz AGE & BIRTH DATE. 118 & October 9th, 1902 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Werewolf OCCUPATION. Owner of Meat I Live For FACE CLAIM. Berk Cankat

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: serial killer, war, death ) Rafael Yilmaz was born on a stormy October night in the year 1902 in a rundown house in Ankara, Turkey. He was the second son to parents who didn’t have much but each other, and were constantly moving from one place to the next. Rafael’s father came from a long line of werewolves, and his last pack had been slaughtered by hunters. He ended up being the only one to survive. Ever since he had been on the move; not because he actually had any real reason to believe that the hunter was still after him, but because paranoia had gotten the better of him. He saw threats behind every corner, and thought it was best for them to constantly move from one place to the next. The family had four children in the end, after Rafael two daughters were born. All four children were equipped with the werewolf gene and handled it very differently. Rafael’s older brother was controlled and disciplined. His sisters both hated the gene and called it a curse, while Rafael simply had fun with it. As a teenager he had trouble staying in control, but he learned quickly how to shift at his own will. That is, as long as he’s in a good mood. Bad moods or anger can quickly take away any control he has on his shifting.

The family moved every few years thanks to their father’s paranoia, making it hard for the four Yilmaz children to really make friends outside of each other. Eventually, when Rafael was twelve, he even decided Turkey wasn’t save enough anymore and smuggled them out to Europe. It didn’t help that here they were outsiders at all times; speaking a different language, looking differently. Outside of Turkey, everyone looked at them as if they knew they had monsters brewing underneath their skin. They were usually crammed into tiny apartments or houses, four werewolves with big tempers suffering from puberty. But their father always had a good hold on them and taught them how to control their senses and urges. At least he did until he was gone. The family happened to be in Austria when the first world war arose. Their father was called into battle, and only a few days later they got the news that he had died in combat. None of the children understood how their father could have died in a normal human battle, but they never got a body to confirm what had killed him in the end. Especially Rafael’s older brother always suspected another hunter to have gotten to their father, but Rafael himself tried not to think too much about the reasons. It was bad enough that their father was gone, and he had never been someone for conspiracy theories.

Their very human mother was horribly overwhelmed with the task of four children, no idea where to go next, and hardly any money. Rafael’s older brother tried to help her as best as he could, but especially Rafael made their life a living hell. His brother dragged him along wherever he went as to have an eye on Rafael, but he still managed to do stupid things left and right. His big brother was the reason they both ended up joining the military shortly before the second world war begun. At the time they lived in Britain, and his brother’s promise that they were the best fighters anyone could find was the only reason they were allowed to proof themselves. And they were good. Rafael didn’t like the fighting, but even he couldn’t deny that they were some of the best fighters around. Soon they were known along their comrades as an unbeatable duo. Anyone was happy to welcome them into their unit, thinking they would protect them and turn everything around for them.

But Rafael’s brother should soon follow their father’s demise. Late at night, with rain pouring from the air, bullets rained down on them that weren’t normal bullets. Rafael understood too late that they were made of silver, and he watched his brother die in his own arms, pierced with one too many bullets to recover from it. He was dragged away from his brother’s body with bloody hands and screaming so loudly the enemy could hear him behind their lines. Afterwards, Rafael changed. He still didn’t like fighting, but he was more furious with it, as if trying to get revenge on his brother. He had more trouble staying in control of his shifting too, and barely managed to get to the end of the war without anyone noticing. When the end of the war was announced, everyone around him celebrated, but Rafael couldn’t. He didn’t go home either, unable to face their mother and explain to her that he hadn’t been able to save his brother. Instead, he followed in his father’s footsteps, becoming a lone wolf that traveled the world – not necessarily out of paranoia, but because he was followed by guilt.

He kept in touch with his mother and sisters throughout letters, and learned that she had settled down in Greece shortly after the war ended. There she met a man who was known for running one of the best Gyros’ places in town. It was a dream come true for his mother, who had always loved cooking, and quickly became one of the main reasons the restaurant was so successful. Reading her letters made him happy, and he knew it would only stay that way for her if he didn’t pull her back into his trouble. So he stayed as far away from his mother as he could, and tried to find love elsewhere instead. He was still good at worming himself into other people’s hearts. He switched his lovers as often as he switched his home. He wasn’t particularly picky either. In a time when it wasn’t anywhere near normal, he still didn’t care about the gender of his partners, or whether they were werewolf, witch, human or whatever else walked the earth. He was always protective of them, and he fell in love often and hard, but never managed to stick with it when he moved on to another place. It was how he got himself a job though.

The bitter truth was, Rafael had always adored music. His father taught him how to play the guitar when he was eleven, and regretted it later on. It was a passion no one expected Rafael to hold. He wouldn’t talk about anything but the fact that he wanted to be a musician one day. His father told him his ideas were awful, and that music could never be a real job. He was turned down again and again by his father, but the idea of making music for people’s pleasure had always lingered at the back of his mind. He still played, holding the guitar of his father dear to his heart, and even sometimes played small acts to earn some money. But he knew he’d feel even more guilty if he pursued a ridiculous music career when his father wanted something else for him. And so when he ended up in bed with the chief of police of Brussels in 1959, he scored himself a job at the local police. No one expected much from him, but Rafael quickly showed that he was useful. He was one of the first people to have an idea who Le tueur fou (the “Crazy Killer”) might be, a serial killer who killed several people in Belgium from 1954 to 1981. But he couldn’t stay until the killer was caught. Both his itch to move on, and his slowed aging process meant that he couldn’t stay long anywhere. Rafael used his stance in critical crime cases as recommendations to get himself from one police station to the next across Europe. Never the one to catch the killer, but always the one who almost caught them.

It nagged at his ego that throughout the years, he was never rewarded for actually catching a killer, forgotten behind the scenes because of who he was. Because throughout the years, he investigated several of the worst crimes humanity had seen. After leaving Belgium, he moved to Italy and investigated the Monster of Florence there. He was also part of the investigation of the Beast of Harkstede, a murderer of five women in the Netherlands, and of the Beast of Bastille when he lived in France in the 90s. With each case he got more restless, and no lover or hobby could change that for him. He was known to be charming, flirtatious, and a good cop – but also as moody and impatient, and simply never the one. He struggled a lot with his shifting during the times when he was the most frustrated, and it ended in some less pleasant shifting situations.

In the end, Rafael ended up in Greece not out of free will. He had been trying very hard to stay away from it after his mother settled down there. But one night he was woken by his phone ringing, and his youngest sister telling him that their sister had been killed by another hunter. She had moved to Corinth Bay with her husband, also a werewolf, after their mother had died of old age. They had taken over her house and over the gyros restaurant she and her husband owned, making the town their new home. Rafael had never visited them or seen their restaurant other than on photos, and he also never met the two children they had. One year ago then, the pair had been killed by a hunter, though their children were left unharmed. And for some reason Rafael could not understand, she had chosen him in a will she created thirty years ago as the one to take over what she left behind should she ever die. Rafael hadn’t even known his sister had a will, and hardly understood why she wouldn’t have changed said will when she had children. His youngest sister liked to say she had seen something more in him, but Rafael didn’t trust that idea. Still, he followed her wish, because it would have felt like betrayal not to do what she wanted him to.

He left behind his life at the time and moved to Corinth Bay over night. Suddenly, he was faced with a very different life than he ever had. Here he was, in a house that was big enough for a proper family, and he was suddenly stepping into the footprints of two parents who had been made for the job, while he had never even considered the idea of being a parent one day. He’s struggling to figure out how to handle two teenagers who are surely trying to get him killed. His seventeen year old niece has an awful music taste (in his opinion), drives her scooter too fast and in general likes to get herself into too much danger. His sixteen year old nephew on the other hand is strongly struggling with his werewolf genes, his sexuality, and how to get popular in school. It’s a world Rafael can’t understand, as he never lived such a mundane life. He wanted to get himself into the police office once more, but didn’t do it in favor of taking over his sister’s gyros restaurant. The truth is, he eats more at “Meat I live for” than he actually helps out, but when he has good days he loves it. On most days, however, he misses being a cop and investigating bad guys a lot. In his free time he sometimes tries to solve the murder of his sister and her husband, but he hasn’t really gotten anywhere, as he is already too busy with his normal life. And with everything that has started happening in Corinth Bay lately, Rafael is even more frustrated and wary – worried for the children he’s looking after, and worried about himself. And wondering why on earth his sister would pick a place crawling with supernatural creatures to settle down.

PERSONALITY

+ adventurous, freethinking, intuitive - obsessive, strong-willed, thoughtless

PLAYED BY LISA. GMT+1. She/Her.

#lisa

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globerjk · 5 years

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MARICHAT DAY 9: Ice Skating

Day1 - Day2 - Day3 - Day4 - Day5 - Days6&7 - Day8 - Day9

@marichatmay

"Why not go out with me?"

Her hero friend asked causing Marinette to pause her game convinced that she must have heard him wrong and if not, that she shouldn't misinterpret.

Shortly after finishing whatever activity Chat Noir was busy with and that kept him from visiting, the duo happily returned to their old routine.

Movies, sometimes videogames, cooking lessons (that were more like cooking practice at this point), mandatory pampering and, of course, increased friendly turning on flirty blanter. This was clearly a distraction to make her loose the game.

"You're doing it again Chat Noir, I told you trying to get me to loose focus wouldn't work twice" She said with a laugh. "You know this just proves that you think me unbeatable?"

She reached his leg "Just accept your defeat" and patted it gently.

"I'm not joking. Why not go out with me? He asked again like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Well, maybe it has something to do with you not asking?" She shrugged, because she could also be casual, collected and not the slightest affected by his questioning.

"Hmm. Okay, let me rephrase" The boy cleared his throat putting on a straight face

"Why wouldn't do it? go out with me I mean"

He placed his control down and turn in his sit to face her better. He seemed to be serious about the question, it wasn't a diversion after all?

Marinette took a moment to reply, then seemed to come to a conclusion. She gaze him shyly with a soft blush as her lips started to form a subtle smile.

He lost himself on the shining of her eyes, her rosy cheeks and her pretty kissable pink lips. Pretty pink lips. PINK LIPS!

He reprimanded his mind. Where had that come from? Sure he had admitted to himself( and no one else, especially not Plagg) that maybe he saw Marinette as something more than just a friend, but he was still very much in love with Ladybug. So thinking about his classmate and her lips was not allowed!

"I just believe that... Umm... The reason may be the same, Kitty"

The blushing girl said with a sweet voice turning to the monitor and resuming their game. He smiled and followed her lead, focusing on winning more points.

"So if I where to, I don't know, ask you out on a date? Hypothetically, for research purposes." Chat Noir said furiously clicking the buttons.

He really should have tried to change the subject.

"Hypothetically?" She asked adverting his gaze.

"Yes"

"I would say yes" She breathed.

"Good to know" He hummed smiling, trying hard not to look in her direction and failing to block her moves.

Marinette knew that it was dangerous territory, entertaining the idea of Chat Noir.

But she couldn't help the way she'd been feeling for a while. To the point that her treacherous mind had found the perfect place for their first third kiss.

She had tried to do the whole 'skating date' once before, but getting to do it with her partner suddenly sounded very romantic.

After just a few minutes of uncertain silence, they ended up spending the rest of the evening playing different games and basking in the other's company. Neither mentioning more about the earlier conversation.

When it was time for Chat Noir to leave, they said their usual good byes and shared a tight hug.

And if Marinette felt Chat Noir's nose moving around the top of her head, she didn't comment nor complained about it.

#miraculous ladybug #ml marinette #love square #ml chat noir #ml fanfic #marichat #marichatmay2019

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ksoap-ie · 5 years

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ASTRO OK READY - PT 1 // Ha-Eun

Word count: 1334

I hope this was okay! Lemme know what you think! My inbox is always open.

Masterlist

It’s the year 2016 and the kpop rangers, Astro, have come to Earth like a comet.

Astro’s smile engine, MJ.

Astro’s righteous captain, Jinjin.

Astro’s heart-throb, Cha Eunwoo.

Astro’s absolute force, Moonbin.

Astro’s unbeatable stone, Rocky.

Astro’s ultimate weapon, Yoon Sanha.

Astro’s selfless baby, Sun.

__________________________________

7:25AM

Sun sits on the stool, elbows leaning on the kitchen counter as she sips on warm milk. She swings her legs back and forth, enjoying the silence.

This is a common occurrence for Ha-Eun. Based on past experiences, it’s a lot easier - and peaceful - to get up earlier than the boys. Especially on days where she has to wash her hair. A day like this one in particular. Her hair is still soaking, drenching the back of her oversized sweater.

After a few moments of repetitive slurping, rustling is heard from outside the dorm. In a slight panic, Ha-Eun glances at the door before soon reassuring herself that it’s probably just one of the boys moving in their sleep. She stands up, walking back into the bedroom when suddenly, the dorms front door swings open. A deafening crash and beeping storms through the once tranquil house.

Sun makes eye contact with a camera, her mouth gaping open while the rest of the staff pile in the bedrooms screaming “First four! Get ready and in the car!” She looks down at the floor, seeing a mixture of ceramics and lukewarm milk dispersed around her feet. Looking back at the camera, she exclaims “You guys scared me! I thought someone was breaking in!”

The cameraman chuckles as Sun grabs the bin and a wad of tissue in an attempt to clean up the mess she made. Meanwhile, Moonbin tirelessly shuffles out of the bedroom, gathering his coat and shoes, almost stepping on the shattered glass. Ha-Eun hurriedly puts her arm out.

“Careful! I dropped my mug.”

Moonbin crouches down next to her, leaning his head on her shoulder and sluggishly pulling on his trainers.

“Are you hurt?” He mumbles.

“No, I just got shocked at the staff coming in but don’t let me bother you. Go get ready.” She finishes placing the ceramics into the bin and turns her body to face Moonbin. He’s sitting with one knee to his chest and the other sprawled out in front of him. His foot slips out of the shoe. In defeat, Moonbin lays on the floor. Sun seizes his foot and puts it in the discarded trainer. She ties his shoelaces, stands up and takes hold of both of Moonbin’s arms, pulling him up.

“Come on Binnie, go to the car.” She ruffles his hair and lightly pushes him towards the door. When Moonbin finally goes out the door along with Eunwoo, MJ, Rocky and Sanha, Ha-Eun continues to clean up the milk. Most of the staff run after the members so the only ones left in the dorm are Jinjin, Ha-Eun and a cameraman. Jinjin pulls on his coat and stumbles towards the door. Just as he’s about to walk out, Sanha forces his way back into the apartment with a groan. The trio make their way back into one of the bedrooms, placing themselves on top of the mountain of blankets.

“I don’t care, I’ll just go back to sleep!” Jinjin exclaims as he lays on his back and covers himself with the closest blankets. Sun laughs at him. After a little while, they all stand out the apartment, reading the paper that the staff handed them. The note asked the trio to make their way to the address stated. They were also given a phone and 6000 won.

“Do we have to get a bus pass?” Ha-Eun asked, “I don’t have one and I doubt you guys do either.”

“We could get one time passes...” Sanha suggested, Jinjin nodded at him.

The three started walking down to the station, Jinjin searching on the mobile phone they were giving on how to get there.

“I’m so hungry!” Sanha complained, “Can we spend 5000 won on the tickets and 1000 won on something to eat? I’ve not had breakfast.”

“I don’t think we’ll have enough money for breakfast Sanha, I’m sure there’ll be food when we get to the address... wherever it is...” Ha-Eun replied, the pair continue walking, not realising that Jinjin was beginning to gradually walk slower and slower.

Once Jinjin was finally dragged by Sanha, the three began to run towards the station. At the ticket machine, the total cost of the tickets came to 5550 won. They continue walking down the station, coming across a small bakery on the side. They stare at it in awe before the phone starts vibrating. On the screen, appears Eunwoo who’s sitting with a warm coffee in one of his hands. Ha-Eun stands on her tiptoes so that she can be seen on the camera.

“Hi Eunwoo!” she waves, “is the coffee good?”

“Sun, you don’t like coffee...”

“I know but I’m cold!” She shows of her thin coat to him.

“Where are you?” Eunwoo asks before spotting lots of people speed-walking in the background, along with bright signs, “Are you in a subway station?”

MJ, Moonbin and Rocky gather around Eunwoo to see Jinjin turning the camera around to show the bakery in front of them. The boys at the salon laugh and begin teasing the three, offering them food to which they reply by ending the call.

“They’re so lucky!” Sanha exclaims, Sun pats him on the back.

“It’s okay, we’ll be there soon and you can eat as much as you want.”

In the subway, Sun stands sandwiched between Jinjin and Sanha. It was very crowded to the point where they couldn’t move. Ha-Eun looks at the camera in front of them and starts pulling faces while Jinjin comments to the side that they don’t have any makeup on.

“It’s embarrassing for Sanha and I but at least Sun is here. Even though she’s putting us to shame.” He whispers, putting one hand over the side of his mouth.

After the subway ride, Sun, Jinjin and Sanha begin walking down to the salon. They begin making up their own tune in hopes of curing their boredom.

“Losers, lo-losers, losers, lo-losers.” They chant with the occasional whine from Sun about the chilly weather.

“Why didn’t you put on a thicker coat?” Jinjin asks.

“I don’t have one!”

“Oh gosh...”

“Do you think other members will be waiting for us?” Sanha questions to which Jinjin replies.

“Probably not.”

However, as they continue walking down the road, a tall figure comes into view.

“There is someone!” Sanha shouts before the three run towards the end of the road. As they got closer, Eunwoo began walking towards them. Sun runs right into his arms in an attempt to warm herself up. Eunwoo hands Jinjin the coffee he’s holding and then rubs his hands against Ha-Eun’s

“Your hands are like ice! Quick go inside and warm yourself up.”

__________________________________

After having piles of blankets thrown over her body, and an intense makeup session, Astro stand in a row in the studio. They are all wearing different colour jumpers.

Jinjin claps his hands together and begins talking. “Today we are here to film our intro for this series. The concept appears to be seven power rangers.”

“Then what is Ha-Eun wearing?” Rocky asks. They all look over to her, seeing that she’s wearing a jumper like theirs, except it has all different colours on it.

“Oh! She’s wearing all the colours that we are!” MJ strikes a dramatic pose, “She’s the ultimate power ranger!”

They all laugh before Jinjin continues “Let’s all strike a pose!”

When it’s finally Sun’s turn for the photo shoot, she appears awkward in the beginning but gradually becomes more comfortable. She grins at the camera and puts her hands on her hips. Behind the studio, Rocky and Eunwoo were watching, sipping on coffee.

“She’s trying to look so intimidating! Look at her face!” Eunwoo chuckles.

“It’s because of her height.” Rocky states, “It makes her look so much cuter compared to the rest of us. Even MJ and Jinjin.”

Just then, Ha-Eun finishes shooting and runs towards the mocking duo.

“Hey! What are you saying about me? I’m not cute!”

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padfootdidit · 6 years

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a little pretence (pt. i)

Kaz Brekker can pick any lock. Inej Ghafa can scale any roof. They’re powerful, unbeatable, intimidating, talented but - can they handle pretending to be in love?

What’s this?? A six of crows fanfic??? You bet! This is my first fanfic for these characters and this fandom so some of the characterisation might be a little off but please bear with me whilst I find my footing! This fic in particular has not been edited and is also not set in the Grishaverse. More like a limbo between that world and ours. What’s most important to know is that they had to leave Ketterdam for some reason or other and are in a new town where no one knows them. Yet.

For @fleamontpotter because, well, Kayla you’re amazing and also the person I need to thank for getting me into soc in the first place !! You’re so strong, so funny and so genuine. Thank you for introducing me to this bunch of idiots and for persuading me to write a fic. (Also shout out to @zeniik for also supporting me in this endeavour!)

read on ao3!

Saturday, 23:54

The Palace

Never in a million years would Inej had thought that this would be her most difficult job. Breaking Kuwei Yul Bo out of maximum security prison? Strong contender for top spot. Stealing forty million from Jan Van Eck? Sure. A routine heist with Kaz? I don’t think so. Yet, there she was, in the middle of the ballroom, struggling to keep it together because, well, she knew why. She was struggling to keep it together because Kaz had his arm around his waist and was currently telling an earl how they’d fallen in love.

Three Weeks Earlier

Tuesday, 18:06

The Waffle House

“- no way we’ll be able to get in, it’s basically a prison. You can’t -”

“- as if, you really think -”

“- not your best plan, Brekker, really -”

“What about through the front door?” Matthias’ firm voice cut through the bickering and everyone turned to look at him. Even Kaz raised his eyes, barely a fraction, but that was something.

“Don’t be daft,” Jesper scoffed. “They’re not going to welcome a crew of thieves to their party.”

“They won’t be. They’ll be welcoming two guests on the list,” Matthias said, leaning forwards on his elbows so they all head to crane their necks to hear him. “Specht can forge the invites easily enough.”

“At a cost,” Kaz said, speaking for the first time since they ordered. As everyone else had been arguing about ways in, the security, the risk, he had just been slowly working his way through his pile of waffles, listening. Inej knew he heard everything, whether or not he reacted. If Jesper had Kaz’s poker face, he’d win a lot more games.

“Surely one you’re willing to fit?” asked Wylan. They all knew Kaz would fit any cost for this particular job. It was going to make his name.

“So, me and Matt go through the front door,” Nina butted in. “And then what?”

“It can’t be you and Matthias,” Kaz said.

Nina scoffed and, around a mouthful of waffle and syrup said, “Well who else is it going to be? Jesper and Wylan? Doubtful.”

“Back off, we’d make great inside men,” Jesper said, petulant. It’s a moot point though, and they all know it. Nina swallowed, stabbed another waffle with her fork, and made to add to her point. Kaz was ahead of her. And Inej was ahead of Kaz.

“It has to be me and Inej.” Wylan choked on his milkshake. The others all shared a look and then laughed. Kaz was right though. What would be the point of getting Nina and Matthias in when they didn’t have the skills to carry out the job? It would be tricky enough getting them in through the front door, let alone making a diversion to allow Kaz and Inej to sneak in without invites. It had already been agreed it could only be two people inside anyway. Any more and they’d start to lose track. Kaz was the only one who could pick the locks and Inej was the only one who could cross the distance between the house and the safe house without setting off the alarms. “Unless any of you have suddenly learnt to walk the tightrope?”

Nina looked at Inej across the table, and Inej could tell she was trying hard to keep her eyebrows under control. Inej shrugged in response to the silent question. I’ll do what needs to be done.

“But surely only you’d need an invite, Kaz,” Wylan said. “Inej is the Wraith, she doesn’t need the front door.”

“A couple is far less conspicuous than a man on his own,” Matthias supplied and Inej wouldn’t be surprised if he was enjoying this. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Kaz since he’d first suggested it.

“So what, you guys are brother and sister?” Jesper asked, eyes alight with glee, and Inej frowned. They were all enjoying it. Nina wasn’t bothering to hide her shit-eating grin, the absolute traitor.

Kaz sighed and made to stand up, pushing his now empty plate across the table. “We’ll be distant relatives of the earl. We’re too young to be married so we’ll be betrothed.” His eyes flicked to Inej for a second as he buttoned up his coat. “We can work out a backstory later.” Then he grabbed his cane and marched out, the bell above the door jingling to announce his exit. They all watched him walk across the street in silence and then turned back to press Inej. But she had gone.

18:44

“I know you’re there,” Kaz said to the alley’s shadows. He’d know she’d follow him, had felt her presence join him two roads down from the Waffle House. Usually, he waited for her to talk, if she ever did, but this time his patience had reached the end of its tether. He leant against the wall and waited, suddenly unsure if she’d appear.

“Engaged?” Inej said as she landed softly in front of him. Clearly she’d been tracking him from the roofs, her favourite method. Her face was unreadable. He knew his was just as blank.

“Something tells me we won’t pass for siblings,” he said, tone flat. They might both have dark hair, but that was where their similarities ended. Kaz was the moon and Inej was the canal water it reflected on, although he suspected that that metaphor only worked for their appearances.

“You realise this means we’ll have to act,” she paused, and he could tell she was choosing her next words carefully, “like we’re in love.”

“Never heard of an arranged marriage?”

“Kaz.” Her voice was almost a growl and he wasn’t sure how they’d gotten there so quickly.

“I’m sure you can handle a little pretence.” A dig about The Menagerie would be too far. A dig about The Menagerie would never be on the table, not when Kaz was involved, yet it still hung in the air, the potential of it, and he could guess that’s what she’s thinking about.

“But can you?”

18:50

Inej jumped before he could reply and she forced herself not to think about the flash in his eyes as she pulled herself up the wall. She reached the roof of one of the two buildings that made the alley and looked down to check if Kaz was still there. He was staring up, not at her, he would never be able to spot her, but she knew it was meant to give that impression. She sighed. Or maybe he’s just looking at the moon. Nina’s voice in her head answered, doubtful.

The crescent-moon wasn’t bright enough to guide her across the new city, and she longed for the Barrel’s familiar rooftops so wouldn’t need it. The Barrel and its city was behind them now, and Inej needed to forget it. They couldn’t go back. That’s why they were here, starting fresh, starting small - well in terms of numbers. This job was anything but small. Kaz wanted to make his name quickly, carve his place before anyone could try and threaten them. It was just them though, which was nice. It was a relief not to be second-guessing who to trust.

She swung herself across the last gap of her journey and landed easily inside her window. Though the city was unfamiliar, Inej knew how to travel quickly, whatever the terrain. She was sure to have beaten Kaz back, and possibly the others as well. Which is why she took the chance to wash herself, knowing that soon her room would be crowded with Nina and Matthias. It would have been alright sharing with just Nina. Matthias complicated things though. Well, Nina and Matthias, together, a duo, a package, complicated things. Mainly they complicated things at night when Inej wanted to be sleeping.

As she stood over the cramped room’s basin and used the skinny bar of soap to rid herself of the day’s grime, Inej thought about the job. About what pretending to be Kaz’s betrothed would mean. What ‘a little pretence’ would mean. Holding hands? Smiling at each other? Staring lovingly into each other’s eyes? Kissing? Inej could handle half of those things, and none with ease. Kaz could most likely handle zero off the list, and they both knew it. Maybe, if they were lucky, their pretence would only have to hold for the time it took them to cross the ballroom. Inej didn’t believe in luck though. She believed in her Saints and she wasn’t sure they still believed in her.

A Week Later

The Slat 2.0

Friday, 10:17

“How long have you been together?” Nina looked far too happy to have this job. So far, Inej and Kaz had been performing abysmally at what Jesper had nicknamed their ‘compatibility test’. Inej blamed Kaz. Kaz blamed Inej. They both blamed Matthias for putting them in this position in the first place. For the past week, Inej had fallen asleep thinking of all the different ways she could introduce her knives to Matthias’ stomach, face, throat, legs, really any part of his body that presented itself. Kaz had taken to reminding Matthias that his only real use was for his muscles, despite this being mostly false.

“Three years.”

“A year and a half.”

Nina raised an eyebrow. “They’ll gut you.”

“I’ll have slit their throats before they can try,” Inej said, pointedly sharpening Petyr . She had also taken to bringing her blades to these sessions, as a reminder that she had the ability to kill anyone she wanted to before they could blink. It was unnecessary, totally, but it kept her calm.

“We’ll stick to three years. It’s closest to the truth so it’ll be easier to remember.” Kaz’s suggestion was met with a grin from Nina and Inej imagined cutting both of their throats.

“Excellent thinking, Brekker. So, how long have you been together?”

“Three years.”

“And how long have you been engaged?”

“A month.”

“Inej?”

“A month.”

“Brilliant!” Nina cried, clapping her hands together. “And now from the top.”

Kaz sighed. “Can we take a break?”

“Not if you don’t want to get caught! Now, how did you two meet?”

Inej answered monotonously for the rest of the session. They both knew the answers by now, and she’d hope so considering that they’d been going over the story every day since they came up with it. Most of it was the truth, or at least an adaptation of it. They had been working with each other for three years, so they’d been together for three years. Everything was derived from something in their lives, including how they fell in love. Jesper had come up with it, and Inej had just managed to restrain herself from skinning him. ‘You fell in love working together! Obviously!’ He’d declared, happening upon Kaz and Inej last Wednesday when they were first inventing the story. Kaz’s glare had been enough to shut any coward up, but Jesper was immune to them by now. He’d continued: ‘Every job you got closer and closer until, eventually, the sexual tension was too much and you sealed the -’. He’d only stopped when Kaz had rapped his cane on the floor twice, a warning.

Now Jesper wouldn’t shut up about it. Whenever he caught her without Kaz, he would ask her how the engagement was going, if they were waiting to consummate the marriage. Wylan wasn’t helping either. His favourite question was about Inej’s wedding dress.

She’d be relieved when, in two weeks, the job was over and she’d never have to talk about engagements or falling in love with Kaz again.

Two Weeks Later

Saturday, 20:30

The Palace

“Looking dapper, as always, Brekker,” Jesper said in Kaz’s ear as he and Inej joined the queue having their invites checked outside the palace. He was already regretting agreeing to having communications. It had been Wylan’s idea and, in truth, it was going to help. They wouldn’t have to rely on signals to know when to act, or be worried if someone didn’t show up to the rendezvous. Still, he’d rather not have everyone’s voices in his head when he was trying to focus. It was hard enough with Inej holding his hand. He’d had to buy a new pair of gloves, ones not adapted so he could easily pick locks, because he didn’t want to risk a single brush of her skin against his. His usual ones were tucked safely in his inside pocket, ready for when he faced the safe.

“And I just look like a mess?” Inej asked quietly, facing Kaz so that, to everyone else, it would just like they were chatting to each other.

“You look radiant,” Jesper said.

“Absolutely stunning,” Nina added.

“Positively a blushing bri-”

“If you’re quite finished,” Kaz interrupted, “should we get on with the job?” He refused to look at Inej. If she was blushing, it’s not like he would be able to tell anyway.

“Yessir,” Jesper said and Kaz could almost imagine his mock salute.

“In position Wylan?”

“Check.”

“Matthias?”

“Uhuh.”

“Jesper?”

“Guns at the ready-”

“Nina?”

“Yup. And I’ve got eyes on Rotty. He’s waiting by the exit route for you.”

“Good, then let’s get to work.” He and Inej moved forward with the line and he continued to stare straight ahead. He didn’t need to check she was ready, she was right next to him. Kaz was pretty sure he could feel her pulse flicking in her wrist. That couldn’t be possible though. Rather that than no pulse at all, he reasoned. But it wasn’t the time to start down that path. This was going to be an easy job. All he had to do was pretend to be engaged to Inej to get through the hall, and then they were basically finished. All he had to do was keep away from the memory of piled corpses and rotting flesh and blank eyes and lapping water and the stench and the

Kaz tightened his jaw. Not today, not now. Inej’s pulse was there. Even if he was only imagining that he could feel it. Everyone around him was living breathing beating alive. This job was going to be easy, over before he could think about it, and then his name would be made. All he had to do was pretend to be in love with Inej.

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc #soc fic #rhiannonwritesdrabbles #fleamontpotter #zeniik #steeveharrington #kaz x inej #the dregs #two of a kind #hope you all like this #am v nervous abt posting this #but ive done it now #so #NO GOING BACK #let me know if u want to be tagged in the second part

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