#I HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT MYSELF HERE I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thevoidstaredback · 1 month ago

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Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

Dear Damian Wayne, Dec. 19, 2011

There really isn’t a good way to say any of this, especially via a letter. If I’m being completely honest, which I am, I would much rather be saying this to you in person. For both our safety, though, this was the best way I found to contact you.

First off, congratulations on being brought into the Wayne household! I never would’ve considered imagining that Bruce Wayne would be our father, but, here we are. Unless you’re there undercover? I doubt that, though.

Now, I should probably cut to the chase, no matter how much I want to stall. You might not remember me, but I’m your brother. Don’t freak out! Please, just finish reading this, at least. If you don’t believe me or you don’t want to ever talk to or see me again, then that’s fine. I completely understand.

You probably hate me, and I don’t blame you, but I couldn’t stay there. When we got separated on that mission, I ended up nearly killed. Some civilians found me and took me to a hospital to get my injuries treated. I realized, after I woke up, that this was the life I wanted. Leaving you hurt me so much more than I could ever describe in any language, but going back to Grandfather and Mother was a death sentence. I hated doing that to you, but I couldn’t do that to myself.

God, I suck at this.

I love you, Dami, I really do. I’ve wanted, for years, to come back to you, but I didn’t because I’m a coward. A selfish coward who can’t even face his own brother properly.

Forgiveness is a luxury I have no right to ask you of, but I’m going to anyway. So, can you? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you alone? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you to think I died? Can you ever forgive me for making you go back to that place alone? Can you forgive me for being so selfish?

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you then, and I don’t mean to hurt you now. I’m beyond ecstatic that you made it out. I’m so happy that you’re with father now. I hope you never have to go back to Nanda Parbat ever again.

شكراً لكونك أخي

Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

***

There was a time that Danny only ever referred to as Before. Before he’d come to America; Before he’d been taken in by the Fenton Family; Before he’d lost himself to the life he’d never envisioned. He could remember it well.

He’d grown up in Nanda Parbat , high in the Himalayan Mountains. Beautiful buildings made of golden sandstone bricks, roofs made of the redist clay shingles, untouched snow for as far as the eye could see, and mountain peaks stretching high above the little valley.

There were greenhouses, too, filled with plants of all kinds from everywhere! Food, poisons, antidotes, it was all grown in Nanda Parbat. Clean water was pulled from the wells and the snow as though nature herself was giving her best to this one place. Truly a heaven on earth. The Garden of Eden, some people called it.

The residents were known to very few, only ever coming down when they found themselves with visitors. The towns at the base of the mountain ranges had plenty of legends about the People of the Mountains, but even fewer still knew their real secrets.

The League of Assassins, founded by Ra’s al Ghul himself, had made Nanda Parbat their home base, though neither Ra’s nor his daughter, Talia, made a habit of staying for too long or visiting often. No, Nanda Parbat had been claimed to raise the heirs and guard the Lazarus Pits.

Danny had been born in those very halls, buried deep within the protective embrace of the mountains, mere minutes after his brother. He knew nothing but Nanda Parbat, half convinced that his instructors were lying about the outside world. After all, could it really exist if he’d never seen it?

Grandfather and Mother came by thrice a year. Once to check on or use the Lazarus Pits, once to check on the Demon Heirs, and once to instruct lessons of their own. It was how it had always been done, so Danyal and Damian knew nothing else.

Grandfather would tell tales of conquest, instructing them on how to mold their very surroundings to their wills. Mother shared her missions, warning against how others would try and use them to get to her and Grandfather, seeing them as the weakest link. Damian and Danyal taught each other, on the nights when they could escape prying eyes, the importance of secrets. No one to trust but yourself, both Grandfather and Mother had pushed, anyone will betray you when given the right incentive.

The day came when Mother and Grandfather came to check on the Pits. The week-long stay had been the same every year, but their instructors had announced a change. Danyal would be going with Mother while Damian would be going with Grandfather. They would return to continue their studies in Nanda Parbat by the next full moon.

Danny had been excited. He was going to the outside world! He’d never been there before! He’d only ever seen pictures of it! Such fun! The only disappointment he held was that he was not going to share the moments with Damian. Yes, they would be leaving together, but they wouldn’t be together. Mother and Grandfather stayed at separate bases, after all.

The night before they were set to depart their Himalayan Paradise, Danyal had snuck to the roof with his brother.

“I’m scared, ahki,” he whispered, the wind hiding his voice from all but his brother.

“Don’t be, ahki,” Damian had assured, “You will be with Mother. She will keep you safe.”

“But the instructors say that we will be on our own!” Danyal said, “Besides, I do not know Mother.”

Damian did not pause. “Of course you know Mother. She gave us life. She teaches us.”

“Yes, but I don’t know her. I know you, and I know the birds, but I do not know Mother nor Grandfather.”

“Perhaps,” Damian had suggested, “we do not need to know them as we know each other? Perhaps, we only need to know that Grandfather is Ra’s al Ghul and the Mother is Talia al Ghul.”

“Then that means you’re Damian al Ghul!” Danny smiled, emotion his instructors had tirelessly trained out of him bleeding into the privacy shared between him and his brother.

Damian nodded, “And you are Danyal al Ghul.” A beat. “We will be fine tomorrow and the day after and the days to follow. When we return to Nanda Parbat, we will sit in this very spot and share our adventures.”

“Tales of conquest?” Danyal asked.

“Warnings of fools.” Damian responded.

A tale as old as the dirt beneath his feet. Before had been five years ago. So long in the past, but only a few pages back. Sometimes, it was as though he’d never left Before behind him. His training, for all that it was minimal in his limited time within the snow valley, was carved into his very soul. Not even the wear of time could pull him away from a weapon or the scan for immediate exit points or the caution when dealing with new people and places.

Jazz had explained to him that his responses to certain situations should not be that cautious or violent. She’d tried again and again to tell him that he was safe; that he wasn’t where he had been Before.

He knew that, obviously. Nanda Parbat was free of the disgusting urbanization of the modern world. This place was free of the untouched beauty of the hidden gems. He could see the beauty in the contradictions and in what he had been taught to scorn, he was not an idiot, but he could not appreciate it the way people born there could.

The Doctors Fenton, only Masters in their fields at the time, had picked him up at the base of the Italian Appalachian Mountains. They’d treated his wounds, introduced him to their daughter Jazz, and given him the opportunity to escape where he had been.

The Fentons had taken his hesitation as confusion for the situation; amnesia. They told him, as gently as they could, that all signs pointed to an abusive home. They wanted to help him get out as soon as they could.

But, that wasn’t right. Danny, in all his six years, knew exactly what an abusive relationship was. It was one of the things his Mother had taught him about when he’d first left Nanda Parbat with her when he was four! He didn’t come from an abusive home or an abusive relationship! Damian would never put him through that, and the ninja all knew better than to do anything untoward to him and Damian.

“And what about your parents?” Jazz, being only eight years old, had not held her tongue as Danny had been taught to. “Or any other adults?”

Now that, that was definitely a thought. But, no. No one within the confines of Nanda Parbat or within the League of Shadows as a whole had ever hurt him outside of training. The injuries they had treated were from a mission, not from his Grandfather or Mother or brother hurting him!

His attempts at clearing the misunderstanding had been brushed off as his imagination trying to protect him. Repressing and changing trauma, Jazz had translated.

He had thought, at the time, that everyone was wrong. He had come from a perfectly normal place! Though, the week he spent in the hospital had him second guessing. He was the only one looking for every possible exit in case of any possible situation at any given time. He was the only one prepared to slit the throats of everyone in the room if they got in the way of his escape. He was the only one to actively check for weapons to use or be used against him.

During his stay in the hospital, because they wouldn’t let him leave before he was cleared by the doctors who worked there, the Fentons had exposed him to many things that made him question his upbringing. But, now that he knew the truth, he’d never be able to go back.

The Fentons had promised him, the night before he was cleared to go, that they would help him stay away from the people who had hurt him, so long as he allowed them to. And how could he not accept? Too many questions had invaded his mind. The only way to answer them was to do as his Mother had taught him: learn from experience. So, he relented, leaning into the ‘trauma induced amnesia’ everyone had assumed he had, and went along with the Fenton Family.

But what about Damian? Surely, he was safe. Surely, he’d gotten back to Nanda Parbat and reported to Grandfather and Mother that Danyla had been killed! He could not go back, not yet. And maybe, a tiny, selfish part of him that he hid in the darkest corners of his brain, was glad he wouldn’t be going back for any reason. To make himself feel better, he’d told himself that he’d go back for Damian once he was sure he wouldn’t be caught and killed for treason.

The plans laid within the floorboards under his bed with the katana and daggers the Fentons had let him keep.

Exactly four months after turning ten, Danny had turned on the TV. It was just to provide white noise while his adoptive parents were out, so he didn’t really care about the channel. Jazz hadn’t cared, either. If she had, she hadn’t said anything.

The channel had been one for national news. The covered story was in Gotham, New Jersey. Not unusual, but concerning until none of the names of the city’s rogues had been named. Bruce Wayne was holding a gala to officially introduce his youngest son to the world. That is what dragged Danny to sit and watch attentively.

Danny knew the name Bruce Wayne very well. His Mother had told him, no less than six times, that he was to go to Bruce Wayne if he ever found himself in a situation where the League of Shadows couldn’t help him. Bruce Wayne was his go-to if he ever needed because he is his father.

When Danny first met the Fentons, something had kept him from escaping. He could have, but he didn't. Something had compelled him to stay. That same something had told him to avoid Bruce Wayne when he was ten. That same something was now telling him to go to his father.

Danny didn’t listen to that something. Instead, he watched his brother stand beside their father and his other children. He followed his brother’s public persona studiously. When he pieced together Damian being Robin, meaning that Bruce Wayne was likely Batman, he followed his vigilante life, too. All the while, he was too much of a coward to actually reach out to them.

After all, what would they get out of having a relationship with him? He was a traitor to the Shadows, dead by all accounts that mattered. They already had an established family, so why would they want Danny? So, he stayed away.

It wasn’t until the week before his and Damian’s eleventh birthday that he finally managed to write a letter to his older brother. He timed it so that the letter would arrive the day of their birthday. A part of him hoped that Damian would get, read, and respond to the letter. A bigger part of him hoped that it would be lost amongst the birthday cards that were surely being sent to Damian now that he was living with their father.

Damian’s father. Danny already had a father. Well, a dad. He also had a mom and a sister. He even had an aunt! Not to mention the friend he made. He’s never had a friend before! So, yeah. Danny had a mom, a dad, a sister, and a friend. He wanted Damian, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up. If Damian didn’t want him, then that meant that he wouldn’t have a brother or Grandfather or Mother or a father. Or three more brothers, apparently. He couldn’t really find it in himself to be upset about any potential loss that wasn’t Damian.

“Please respond, please respond, please respond!” Danny chanted under his breath as he opened the mailbox. There were four letters inside, three for his parents and one for his sister. “La naiba!” he swore.

“What’s wrong?” Jazz asked as she came up behind him. She’d learned early on that it was near impossible to sneak up on him.

Danny shoved the three envelopes into her hands. “There’s nothing there for me.”

“Why would there be anything in there for you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you order something without telling mom or dad?”

He scoffed. “No. I sent a letter and I’m waiting for a response.”

Her head tilted to the left slightly. “When’d you send it?”

“Three days ago.”

“There’s no way you’re ever gonna get a response in three days.” She scolded lightly, leading the way into the house, “Just be patient.”

He followed her. “Easy for you to say!”

“Who’d you send it to anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Jazz turned on him, her expression as unimpressed as a twelve year old could be. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, she raised her right eyebrow and tilted her head to the left again and slightly forward. When that didn’t get her what she wanted, she crossed her arms, her feet planted firmly in place. She’d picked up several things since Danny was brought into the family. This was one of them.

Danny hated it when Jazz did this. She reminded him so much of Damian that he had nearly cried the first few times she’d taken this exact stance to get what she wanted. Was it an older sibling thing? Regardless, it wasn’t very long before he cracked. “Okay, fine! But we talk in my room, okay?”

She smiled, losing the pose and opening the front door. “I can work with that. Do you want a snack?”

“Sure,” he huffed. He’d meet her in his room. If she wanted answers, she was going to have to bribe him. It was a subtle tactic, one that didn’t work because it wasn’t really bribery if he was already going to do what she wanted, but he needed to make himself feel better about it somehow.

It took exactly five minutes and thirteen seconds for Jazz to enter Danny’s room with some chips, crackers, and bottled waters from the pantry. Not that he was counting. They set up camp in the middle of the floor, the snacks on the floor between them and their homework set out to work on. Whether either of them would use the paper distraction was yet to be determined, but it had become common practice to have a distraction when a conversation seemed like it would take more than a few minutes. And this was definitely one of those conversations.

As soon as they were both settled, Danny took a deep and obvious breath. “I didn’t ever have amnesia.”

Jazz blinked. “What?”

What a way to start, Danny. Another breath. “When you guys first found me, the doctors said I had amnesia; that my brain locked away the memories of Before because I couldn’t handle the stress of it. I went along with it because that seemed like the best course of action at the time. But, I didn’t lose my memories. I still had them. I still have them.” He didn’t look up from the floor.

Jazz leaned forward and took a chip out from the bowl and popped it in her mouth, the crunch of her chewing doing nothing to cut the tension in the room. She swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? We could’ve had the people who hurt you arrested!”

Danny shook his head. “No. I…I thought, when I was growing up with Grandfather and Mother, that everyone was raised like that. It was all I knew. But then you guys found me and took me to the hospital and suddenly, things weren’t adding up. I decided to go with you guys because I knew I couldn’t return to Grandfather and Mother with my thoughts all messed up like that.”

To her credit, Jazz was taking this all in stride. She took another chip. “Why didn’t you leave when you got your thoughts all sorted out?”

“Honestly?” he huffed, “I realized that I didn’t want to live that life anymore.”

“Then why keep the weapons?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘sentimental value’?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

They let silence reign over them again for a bit, focusing on their homework and eating the food set out between them. Finally, after they were both finished, Jazz put her things back in her backpack and leaned against the wall behind her, taking the bowl of chips and a water bottle with her. “What was it like, your home Before?”

Danny smiled and slipped his own things away, leaning against his bed with the bowl of crackers and his own bottle of water. This was a topic he could talk about for hours. “I was born in Pakistan, in the Himalayan Mountains, specifically. Very secluded. My brother and I were the only two kids there.”

“Brother?”

“Yeah, his name’s Damian. He’s older than me by a few minutes.”

“Why wasn’t he with you when we found you?”

“Because we got separated.”

“Do we need to go find him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s with our father now.”

“Is he the one you sent the letter to?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Tell me more about where you were born?”

“Sure,” he smiled, “It’s a valley of snow, nestled between peaks in the Pakistanian end of the Himalayan Mountain Range. The buildings were all connected by roofed gravel walkways, yellow sandstone bricks and red clay shingles and dark wood pillars and floors and doors. The green houses were always my favorite. Any plant you could possibly think of was probably grown there! Damian always preferred the stables and pasture, though. He got along better with animals than actual people, I was the exception. When the weather was good, we’d take our lessons outside. If the weather was bad, then we’d study in the arena or the library.

“Sometimes, whenever Grandfather or Mother came to visit, they’d tell us stories about their adventures. My favorite stories, though, were of how Mother met my father and their adventures together. Grandfather doesn’t like those stories, though. He doesn’t like my father much.

“Me and Damian were the only kids there, so we had to play with each other. There weren’t any games we could play because adults are boring, so we made stuff up as we went along. Sometimes, we’d sneak into the stables and pet the horses! Other times, we’d sneak out of our rooms and climb to the roof to watch the stars.

“The stars were so pretty there! They’re the same stars that we see here, but they were so much brighter in Pakistan; more visible, y’know? The sky was so clear and it was so quiet- One of the people staying there gave me a book about the stars before he left.”

“Is that what started your fascination with space?” Jazz asked.

Danny nodded, “Yeah, it was. Damian would listen to me retell the same stories for hours whenever we climbed to the roof, but he never asked me to stop. I don’t think he ever looked at them and saw what I saw, though.”

“What did you see when you looked at the stars?”

“I saw something just barely out of my reach that I know I could grab if I was just a little bit taller, a little bit stronger, a little bit better.”

“Is that what you see now?”

“No.”

“Oh, then what do you see now?”

“I see the past, and I see a hope for the future.” He paused. “It was a competition between me and Dami, trying to be better than each other because whoever was the best was Grandfather’s and Mother’s favorite.”

She frowned. “You guys were kids! You shouldn’t’ve had to compete for attention like that!”

“I know that now,” he shot back, “But we didn’t then. We were raised to compete with everyone to hold Grandfather’s and Mother’s attention and favor. If we lost it, if we did anything that Grandfather deemed unworthy of the family name, then we were punished.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I know, but it’s what we knew.” A beat. “It was a big family, so not everyone stayed at the one compound.” The League was very far from being a family, but it’s the best way to describe it without exposing it to anyone. “Me and Damian were born and raised in the main compound in Pakistan. Grandfather, the head of the family, stayed and led from a compound in China. Mother stayed at a compound in Bangladesh. When we were four, I went and spent a month with Mother and Damian went and spent a month with Grandfather before we were sent back to Pakistan. When we turned five, I went with Grandfather and Damian went with Mother. When we turned six, we were both sent to spend time with family here in the states. I got separated from Damian and-”

“-me and mom and dad found you.” Jazz finished for him.

“Yep.”

“But, how did you get so hurt?”

Before he could answer, the front door burst open, their parents announcing their arrival carrying through the house. “A story for another time, I guess,” he shrugged.

Jazz wasn’t happy to have been interrupted, but she didn’t push. Instead, she took the empty bowls and went downstairs to greet their parents.

Danny leaned his head back against his bed, lost in the memories of his time with his brother. He wishes that Damian would send a reply already. He had remembered to put a return address, right? Maybe he should’ve just used the house’s address instead of setting up that PO box in the next town over! It’s not like anyone ever claimed to be reliable delivery persons!

Waiting was always the worst part of anything. Waiting for Grandfather to speak when he’d called an audience; waiting for Mother to tell them the end of her story; waiting for the guards to show any weak point to sneak past; waiting for a mission to start. It was always agonizing.

The morning was cold. Colder than it had been, but not as cold as it could be. Unfortunately, the cold meant snow. Snow meant that it was way too bright outside. And, despite it not being the morning of a school day, Jazz had elected to wake Danny up at the horrible time of six-thirty in the morning. Later than the normal five-forty-five, but still way too early to reasonably be awake. Honestly, Danny had thought he was done with getting up with the sun, but Jazz had proved him wrong time and time again for nearly five years now.

She pulled the curtains open, letting in the light from the sun that reflected off the white embodiment of cold. When that only caused him to burrow deeper into his three blankets and two pillows and his dog plush, Jazz decided to pull all three layers off of him.

“Hey!” he yelped, falling off the bed with a thud. “What the heck!”

Jaz dropped the blankets with a smile. “Rise and shine sleeping beauty! Mom and dad are in the lab again-”

“Another ‘breakthrough’?”

“-so I’m making breakfast! What do you want?”

Danny groaned and pulled himself off the floor, resetting the blankets on his bed in a mock of making it look neat. “Something warm.”

“How does hot chocolate and pancakes sound?”

“Can I have coffee instead?”

“No.”

“Dang.”

Jazz shook her head and left the room. “Don’t go back to sleep, okay? I wanna go to the library today.” She didn’t close the door behind her.

“Isn’t it closed today?” he called into the hall.

“Tomorrow!”

“Ah.” He closed the door himself, letting out a small puff of air. Turning to the room at large with his hands on his hips, Danny sighed. It was gonna be a long day. The first thing he did was straighten out his bed so it looked properly not slept in. Just as Mother had taught him. Then, he changed from his pajamas and into some jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Leaving his room, he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, only really bothering to push a hand through his hair. Not at all like Mother had taught him, but he really didn’t care right now.

Danny made his way down the stairs sluggishly. He’d never been a morning person, much preferring to stay awake until the early hours of the morning watching stars, but he’d had to hide that little quirk when he was with Grandfather and Mother. He’d realized, about half a year after the Fentons picked him up, that he didn’t need to hide his preference for night over day. Infact, his mom encouraged it! She let him sit up on the roof and stargaze until one or two in the morning before forcing him to bed. And then Jazz got into the habit of waking him at six in the morning for school. He’s definitely run on less sleep than four-ish hours, but he’d rather get as much as he can, which is what breaks are for! Unfortunately, Jazz has it in her head that he has to get up at the same time every day without fail, lest he irreparably mess up his sleeping schedule.

With a groan, he plopped down on his chair - in a bout of pettiness a year and a half after arriving, he carved his name into the wood of the backrest - at the table and laid his head down. His sister worked efficiently on the pancakes as the water for their hot chocolate boiled in the electric kettle.

The two sat and worked in a quiet peace. Jazz’s bustling around the kitchen faded into the background as white noise with the constant hum of electricity throughout the house and the occasional controlled explosion from the basement lab. It was well fortified, so the house wasn’t in danger.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of laying on the table with his eyes closed, Jazz put a plate by Danny’s head, a mug of hot chocolate with a candy cane beside it. Then, she sat opposite him with her own food.

“Thanks,” he mumbled groggily, pulling the food and drink towards him.

“You’re welcome.” Jazz said around a bite.

Danny would be the first to admit that Jazz wasn’t the best cook, but he was also the first to praise her cooking. Jack Fenton couldn’t make anything, that wasn’t fudge, for the life of him. Any food he tries to make, somehow turns to fudge. Kind of like King Midas’ Golden Touch. Maddie Fenton was a pretty good cook, when she remembered to actually feed herself and her family. She could make cookies worthy of the gods, though. Whenever the Fenton parents weren’t in their basement lab for one reason or another, they ordered takeout to eat with their kids. Those times were, unfortunately, few and far between.

Finishing his meal, Danny was wide awake, the food doing wonders for waking him. And, while the caffeine in chocolate was nothing compared to the coffee his dad would sometimes let him drink, there was just enough to wake him up just a bit more. Don’t tell Jazz, though, or she might take away chocolate, too.

“Do you,” he hesitated, the words caught in his throat for a moment, “Do you think mom and dad will be up to celebrating this year?”

When he was seven, he learned that the Fentons didn’t celebrate any holiday, no matter what it was. They had up until Jazz was five, but then work became more important. Jack and Maddie had claimed breakthroughs in their research, pushing everything and everyone aside if it or they didn’t directly help their life’s work.

That same year, he’d been trying to acclimate himself better. One of the biggest things in American culture is holidays, so he decided to ask to celebrate Christmas. It was mainstream and was derived from one of the only holidays he was allowed to celebrate back in Nanda Parbat.

Jack and Maddie had agreed, of course, and he and Jazz had pulled out all the old decorations to dress the house. When December twenty-fourth came around, though, their parents had gotten into a huge fight about whether to tell Danny and Jazz that Santa wasn’t real. Jack had said it was a right of passage for little kids to figure it out all on their lonesome, while Maddie had argued that she wasn’t going to let her children believe in fairy tales that parents tell to get their kids to sleep faster. They were loud enough that Jazz and Danny had both heard every word.

The two tried, every holiday, to get their parents to spend time with them, at least, but it failed every time. Something or other aways came up.

“I don’t know, Danny,” she sighed, putting her fork on her now empty plate, “You can try, but I doubt it.” She’d given up last year, right around the time that she’d picked up on reading parenting books.

Danny didn’t say anything. He simply stood and gathered the dishes, taking them to the sink to be washed before putting them away. The dishwasher had been ripped apart and repurposed for parts in the lab.

“I know that you want to celebrate like the other kids in town,” Jazz said from the table, “but mom and dad are way too focused right now. Mom mentioned something about working on the portal some more.”

Danny put the cup down carefully, a loud click sounding through the kitchen. With a controlled breath, he closed his eyes and turned off the tap. “There were exactly two holidays that me and my brother were allowed to celebrate when we were children. Christmas is taken from one of those holidays. Forgive me for just wanting to share a piece of that with them.”

He could feel Jazz’s sad gaze on his back. “What holidays?”

“Forget it,” he shook his head, “Let’s just go to the library.”

She let it drop. “It doesn’t open for a few more hours.”

He started up the stairs. “Then come get me when it’s time to go.” Danny ignored Jazz’s responding sigh as he walked up to his room. Closing the door behind him, he grabbed some paper and a pencil.

In Nanda Parbat, one of the instructors was set to teach Danny and his brother the Fine Arts. From writing to painting to instruments to acting. All so that they could adapt to any mold for any mission. Because they were the heirs, the Demon Twins of the monster that was the organization, they were expected to be perfect. Anything less was punished.

Damian had always excelled at the Arts, especially drawing and its counterparts. He could work with any median, but charcoal had always been his favorite. Danny, too, had excelled with the Arts, but anything that happened on a stage had been his specialty.

Whenever he missed his brother, or any aspect of Before, too much, Danny would sit down and draw. He’d thought about asking his parents for an instrument of some kind, the cello always having been his favorite, but he decided against it. So, he drew. He didn’t have a dedicated sketch book, and no one but himself would ever see anything he made, but it was a nice outlet.

He wondered if Damian did something similar, now that he was with father. Did he play instruments or read plays when he thought of Danny? Did he allow his new siblings to see what he made or listen to his voice?

Three hours passed by in a blink, only one page being covered. It was a nice memory he’d drawn of the blacksmith’s hut away from the main base. In the picture, he and Damian were learning to forge their own daggers. Damian’s had turned out unbalanced and two inches too short. Danny’s had been only half an inch too long with a slightly too short grip.

Jazz knocked on the door as she cracked it open. “Hey,” she greeted quietly.

Danny covered tha paper. “Hey.”

“Are you ready to head out? We can stop by Tasty Burger for lunch?”

“Sure,” he nodded, moving to stand in a way that prevented the paper from showing to Jazz. He hid it in his nightstand to be moved to the box with the others later. “Let’s go.”

Nodding, she led the way.

It was a quick walk, only twenty minutes from their house to the library, but it was cold and bright. The snow only made the area brighter, but it was comfortable to him; familiar. What was really irritating was the cars and the people and the buildings. Danny had been raised very far from all of these things, only ever going near them when on a mission, and it was only a few hours at a time in those instances. No matter how long he lived in a city or town, whatever it was called, though, he would never get used to the noise.

The sidewalks were crowded with holiday shoppers not insane enough to go out on the twenty-fourth, but crazy enough to go out on the twenty-third. The streets were slick and traffic was slow, especially for a morning. Christmas decorations lined every window and tree and building face, holiday music carried on the wind four or five different songs mixing into one over and under the voices of the people on the sidewalks.

“C’mon,” Jazz tugged him into the public library by his hand. She had four books tucked under her arm, two on psychology, one on parenting, and one on dragons.

Danny followed after her, not quite dragging his feet, but making it apparent that he would rather not be there.

“Good morning, you two!” the librarian smiled when they made their way to her desk. She was a cheerful woman, always wearing a smile, though she had never once worn a nametag or introduced herself.

“Good morning!” Jazz matched the woman’s energy with a smile, dropping Danny’s hand and putting the four books up on the counter.

The woman took the books to scan them back into the system. “Are you looking to check out more books today?”

“Yep! Just so I have something to do over Winter Break.”

“You’re a kid, there’s lots for you to do!”

“I know, but I like reading.”

“I get it. Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Okay, we will!” Jazz took Danny’s hand again and pulled him off into the forest of shelves, straight to the parenting section.

Danny hid his scowl as he watched Jazz search through the parenting books. “You’re twelve, Jazz-”

“Almost thirteen.”

“-you’re not supposed to be looking at these kinds of books until eighteen at the earliest.”

She didn’t stop her search. “You’re eleven, Danny, you should be acting like a kid.”

“But I wasn’t raised as a kid.”

“Exactly why you should take the opportunity now!”

He groaned. It was an ongoing argument between the two. “I don’t need you to look after me, Jazz. We’re both kids, so we should be reading books that kids do! Leave the parenting up to our parents.”

“Our parents who don’t even celebrate holidays?”

“Jazz-”

“Look, Danny, I know you’re worried about me growing up too fast or whatever, but I like these books.” She pulled one off the shelf before turning to look at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll only get one parenting book.”

It didn’t. He’d rather her get none. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna get some psychology books, though, and you can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said. She ignored him.

“The human mind is really interesting. Did you know that the size of a human brain has decreased since the time when we were hunters and gatherers?”

“Has it?” He loved when she got like this, talking about things that interest her.

She nodded rapidly. “Mhmm! By a whole ten percent!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And most artists like working at night because humans are more creative during the night rather than during the day.”

“What?” He raised his eyebrow in good humor to tell her that he was joking, “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is!” she insisted, leading the way over to the tables in the middle of the large room with two psychology books and a parenting book under her arm. “And, look!” she grabbed a paper and pencil and wrote down ‘Yuo cna’t sotp me form radenig prnatneig bokos.’ in big letters. “Because we read words instead of individual letters, as long as the first and last letters are in the proper spots, and all the letters are there, it doesn’t matter what the rest of the word looks like, especially if you’ve been reading for a while or if you’re reading fast. You’re still able to read the word as though it were completely correct.”

“That’s actually really cool.”

“Right?” Her grin was so worth it. Her grin would always be worth it. “C’mon, let’s go get yo some books now.”

Danny grabbed Jazz’s hand and led the way this time. He took them over to the books about space and started to look through them. He’d always loved space as a whole, but stars had always held a special place for him.

He picked a book about astrology. “I heard some of the girls at school talking about magic and stuff and how people’s personalities are affected by what star sign they were born under.”

Jazz scrunched her nose a bit. “I’ve heard some people at school talk about that stuff, too. Do you think it’s true?”

“I think it’d be worth a look.” He took another book off the shelf, this one talking about both ancient and modern witchcraft. “The psychological implications are interesting, too.” That would get her to show a bit more interest.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She paused. “Mind if I take a look when you’re done?”

“I’d be happy to have a whole conversation about it when we’ve both finished reading our books.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The last stop before checking out their chosen books was in the fairy tail section of the library. Their dad loved fairy tales, but their mom refused to let them have any of the books in the house. She claimed that there was no such thing as magic and that any ‘magic’ was done by ghosts. Danny had to hide his amusement whenever that particular argument was bright up because he knew for a fact that the supernatural and magic go hand in hand more often than not. He wasn’t about to tell her that, though.

The book they chose was one they both wanted to read, not wanting to risk mom finding one fairy tale in the house, let alone two. It was a compilation of the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales. Dark stories, they both knew, but that just made them all the more enticing.

Checking out went much the same as checking in, with the added bonus of the librarian giving them a cloth tote bag to carry their six books in. She also gave them the name of a small magic shop on the other side of town that had some tarot cards in stock if Danny was interested.

As promised, Jazz had taken some money from their mom’s purse to stop by the Tasty Burger for lunch. They both ordered the chicken nuggets and a milkshake, Jazz getting chocolate and Danny getting strawberry. Then, when they were done eating, they walked hand in hand back to their home.

Danny stopped at the mailbox, not moving to follow Jazz or to open the thing. Did he dare check? He didn’t want to get his hopes up. What if Damian hadn’t gotten the letter like he both feared and hoped? What if he had? Would there be a response? Would Damian ever want a relationship with him?

“Hey,” Jazz tugged his hand, “What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip, a show of nervousness that would’ve been punished in Nanda Parbat. He inhaled. “What if there’s no response? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? It’s been almost five years.”

It took a moment before Jazz clocked what he was talking about. She let go of his hand to hold his shoulders. “How about this; You go inside and wait and I’ll get the mail, okay?”

Danny nodded and slowly trudged into the house. Why had he even sent that stupid letter? He flopped onto the couch. Damian probably hates him for not returning to his side.

He didn’t have time to mope any longer because Jaz threw the front door open with a shout. “Danny!” She was suddenly right beside him, shoving a letter into his hands. “There’s a letter for you!”

After a moment to process, Danny’s shaky hands ripped the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside. The single sheet was folded into three perfect rectangles, the black ink of a pen unsmudged and perfectly spaced. Just as Mother had taught.

***

Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton, Dec. 21, 2011

You have a very extravagant story. Whatever made you believe that exchanging letters was the most secure way of contact? An idiotic move that my brother would, unfortunately, absolutely make. Either you are him, or you are a clone. Either way, I’m not likely to believe you, so do not mistake this as such. Your admitted honesty is welcomed, though not believed.

My welcome into the Wayne Family was quite a public affair and aired all over the country, so I guess I should thank you for the congratulations, as is socially acceptable in this situation as well as others like it. Bruce Wayne being my father is not a surprise, given his public image and his tendency to take any stray whelp he sees into his home. Though I will have you know that I am the only blood child in the household.

Announcing your stalling while writing a letter is completely unnecessary, especially as that was your first correspondence. Had you simply left that out, I would never have been the wiser. Another mistake you’ve made in accordance with my brother.

Having read over your letter several times, I have come to several conclusions. With the resources I have at my disposal, I have determined that there is a good chance you are who you say you are. Understanding who I am, and who my brother is, the rest of this response is written under the foolish ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶ assumption that you are who you claim to be.

I could never hate you, Danyal, nor could I ever ignore this chance I have been presented with. Getting out was the best thing you could’ve done for yourself. Coming back from that mission, having failed and lost you, broke something in Mother. She was both harsher and more clingy, hovering whenever she could and pushing more than ever. Grandfather was even less pleased that you hadn’t returned, though he only ever acknowledged you as a failure and a mistake. He made it known that he would’ve killed you, had you ever miraculously returned to Nanda Parbat.

I am glad that you got help. I am glad that you are living safely and that you have found a place to be at peace.

You are a coward, but you are more deserving of praise and forgiveness than you seem to believe. I thought you had died on that mission, Danyal. For that, I can’t ever forgive you, but I could never hate you. I can forgive you for making me return on my own. I can forgive you for being selfish and leaving me alone, but I will never forgive you for making me mourn you. You hurt me in ways that I never thought I could ever be hurt, in ways that I may never be hurt again.

Grandfather and Mother never allowed a grave to be made. They didn’t let me keep anything of yours either. They erased you. It was like you had never been there. I was never allowed to properly mourn you. That alone almost ended me.

Father knows nothing of you. Mother did not tell him, nor will I. I did not wish to make him or our siblings mourn a child they would never meet. If you so choose to tell him, then you may. I, however, will not be playing the messenger.

أرجو أن تسامحني على اعتقادي بأنك ميت. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أحزن عليك كما ينبغي. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أبحث عنك، فالعودة لم تكن خياراً متاحاً. كان يجب أن أجعله خياراً Damian Wayne

Translation 1 - Arabic :: Thank you for being my brother.

Translation 2 - Romanian :: Damn it!

Translation 3 - Arabic :: Please forgive me for thinking you were dead. Please forgive me for not mourning you properly. Please forgive me for not looking for you, coming back was not an option. I should have made it an option

Storyboard Part 2 Artwork

#Tales of Conquest. Warnings of Fools #Letters Between Brothers #part 1 #word count: 8k #my writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfic #dc x dp #ghouls and gang writing event 2024 #dpxdcbang2024 #g&g24

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honesty-my-policy · 6 months ago

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i'm so infuriated

I'm not Jewish and I'm so infuriated at the world.

I can't imagine how it must feel to be Jewish. Especially as this entire ordeal has made me dive more into educating myself about Jewish history and how the world truly has always blamed everything on the Jews.

How is everything their fault?

Even the crucifixion of Christ has been blamed on the Jews when it was a Roman tradition?

Martin Luther who is known as one of the original reformers in Christianity's history wrote a book called "On the Jews and Their Lies". In which he advocated for burning down synagogues, Jewish homes and if that didn't work, Jewish people!

Apparently, somehow, Jews caused the Black Death despite the fact that the most predominant modern theory is that due to climate change in Asia, rodents began to flee the dried out grasslands to more populated areas which ended up spreading the infected fleas they carried, thus spreading the disease. The fleas infected not just rats but ground rodents in general, so once the rats migrated the fleas could jump to any ground rodent and the infection spread.

Some of the craziest modern stuff though has come mostly from the Middle East (i wonder why)...

Apparently, Israel has remote control sharks that can attack Egyptian civilians and tourists, at least that's what a Governor of Egypt things. source

According to a fundamentalist group of Muslims called the Wahhabis, the Jews have a secret ally they've been conspiring with... the Gharqad tree. A tree, they call it the Jew tree. source Which is identified as either nitre bushes or Lycium which is part of the nightshade family, it's such a thing that the TREE WIKI PAGE TALKS MORE ABOUT THAT THAN THE TREE ITSELF source

Palestine once said that Israel was breeding super rats that could grow twice the size of a normal rat - just to chase Arabs out of Jerusalem, note this was in like 2008, where are these super rats NOW? source

The Nation of Islam (an organization) accused Jews of tricking people into thinking slavery exists??????? Sorry, "still" exists. This was originally in 1996, the gall this motherfucker had in 1996 to say "Where is the proof?" - oh, his name is Louis Farrakhan btw and there is an entire section dedicated to him on the anti-slavery website iabolish.org - his page

Also, Pokémon is a Zionist conspiracy plot to overthrow Saddam Hussein, at least, in 2001 that was what some Iraqi security personal reported. source

listen... I won't lie. I love a good conspiracy theory because to be honest, the amount I trust my government or anyone in authority is so small that just about anything could come out as true and I'd be so un-phased.

but blaming the Jews for everything when they make up an estimated 0.2% of the population versus say the 23% that is Muslim? Which there are approximately 50 Muslim-Majority countries in the world, though depending on sources the exact number differs.

If anything Christianity (32%) and the unaffiliated (16.3%) should be eyed at. Also, how come no one ever gives the folk religion people a hard time? Not that anyone deserves to be given a hard time as long as they aren't hurting anyone, it just boggles my mind to be honest.

sources for numbers cited came from this website: https://worldpopulationreview.com/

anyway, woke up this morning and just wanted to say this cause I'm mad and I want to show my support but also call out stupid people. I'm here to fight for Israel and the Jews, fuck off pro-palestine simps.

#israel #palestine #hamas #politics #gaza #jews #antisemitism #palestine vs israel #jewish #sources #islam #i stand with israel #i stand with the jews #pro jewish #pro israel #i woke up ready to fight today

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sonotpattismith · 2 months ago

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My Lost, Fearless Leader. (yuta okkotsu x reader)

As the men masqueraded, I hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’d learned, because love’s never lost once perspective is earned.

word count: 9k warnings: angst, me never making it easy for poor Yuta a/n: inspired by Peter by Taylor Swift. Lowkey a self-insert as I too am a therapist, tee hee. I hope y’all enjoy it, I absolutely love writing for Yuta even though I make him suffer every time 🥹🫶🏻

masterlist.

Dear Okkotsu,

I know you only landed last week, but you left me with so many questions when you said goodbye. At the risk of sounding too forward, I thought for a moment that you would kiss me before you left. You had a look in your eye, one I’d never seen before, and I even thought I saw you square your shoulders like you were about to charge into battle.

Inumaki offered to give me your number when I asked about you, but I feared too quick of a response if I were to text you. After all, I love to torture myself. Somehow a letter felt safer, more disconnected. Still, I hope you have the time to write back to me while you’re out there growing as you so desperately wanted to.

You still have me in your corner here in Tokyo.

With kind regards,

L/N.

Dear L/N,

I hope this letter gets to you soon, though I know it has some way to go— I don’t want to leave you waiting again. I wondered if I should just text you, but you’re right, maybe this is best for wimps like me who were too scared to kiss the girl they like before traveling oceans away. There’s more courage in me hiding behind a pen than I ever had standing in front of you.

No matter how badly I wanted to show you how I felt, I didn’t feel worthy enough when I looked at that scar on your face— one I should have been able to prevent. There’s so much for me to learn about this world, and Gojo-Sensei says Kenya is where I need to be. I trust him implicitly, and I only hope here I’ll be able to grow into someone worthy of coming back to all of you at Jujutsu High. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I hope to become someone worthy enough to indulge myself in you as well.

I hope you can find it in you to wait for me all the way in your corner of Tokyo.

Respectfully,

Okkotsu.

Dear Okkotsu,

You were right, your letter did travel far, and after two weeks, I feared I may not ever hear back from you.

What happened with Geto Suguru wasn’t your fault, and, if I remember correctly, you were the one that saved all of us that night. It breaks my heart that you feel you don’t have a place here with us. I never thought you needed to prove yourself, and if that’s the only reason you went thousands of miles away— then you should board the next flight back over.

If I had known it was the scar on my face that stopped you, I would have covered it just for you. No one else around here is willing to take the blame for me when I break one of Maki’s spears— that alone should earn you a spot right beside me over here. Speaking of, I hope the bump on your forehead has gone down.

Luckily for the both of us, patience is my best virtue, but I do hope you don’t make me wait terribly long. You don’t have to be the strongest.

Holding my breath,

Y/N.

Dear L/N,

Maybe eventually I’ll work up the courage to call you, but our weeks of waiting in between will just have to do for now.

I think you’re beautiful— regardless of your scar, and I hope I didn’t send the wrong message when I said it’s what stopped me. I only meant that it reminded me of the kind of guy that deserves your attention, one that has brought about more good than he has bad in his life.

I’ve hurt so many people, and it wouldn’t be right of me not to try to make up for the wrongs I’ve caused. It’s only been a month, but Miguel has taught me so much, and I’ve seen so many wonderful things. I’m not sure if you’re interested, but I’m sending you some pictures of all my favorite parts.

I hope Maki has been merciful to you, and, yes, my bump is gone. Still, the little scar there reminds me of you each time I see it. So, I suppose I should thank her.

We’ve been talking so much about me, but I want to hear how you’re doing back in your corner of the world. How have your classes been going? I almost miss hearing everyone arguing with Gojo-Sensei every morning.

I don’t want to be the strongest, but I want to be strong enough to be worthy of you. The last thing I want is to keep you waiting too long, but however long it takes for me to be able to make a mark on those who have shown such faith in me.

Thinking of you,

Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

Surely that’s not you in that picture beside the giraffe? It’s only been two months— what are they feeding you over there? I had to do a triple take. You look well, Okkotsu.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s really you behind that ink. You were never so bold when you were here. Do you have a ghostwriter? I have my doubts, but I still hope all those thoughtful words really are coming from you.

I can see how hard you’ve been working, and I hope you’re beginning to find in yourself the pride I and all us here at home have always had in you. I don’t think anyone blames you for the unfairness that’s clung to you thus far, and no one expects you to make up for any of it— at least I know I don’t. If you really insist on doing so though, maybe you can start by giving me a call every once and a while? I’m sure you're busy, but I’d love to hear your voice again.

Classes have been going well. We’re almost going into our second year now, and everyone still talks so fondly of you. We wish you were here to start the year with us. I certainly miss having someone who was equally as clueless when it came to this world— it felt like you were the last shred of normalcy I was hanging onto. It’s okay though, I suppose I have some growing to do too.

Also, you don’t need to be so formal with me, I think you’ve earned the first name basis. Unless of course, you need to build up the courage for that, too.

I only felt it was fair to send some pictures of all of us here as well— though they’re nowhere near as badass as your safari photos. Please keep sending them— I’ll cherish the ones I have here for now though.

Still waiting for you,

Y/N.

Three months following Yuta’s departure from Tokyo, you first received an actual call from him. You had just turned in for the night, muscles aching from the mission you and Maki had just returned from only an hour or two prior. Truthfully, you were having a difficult time with the added responsibility that was accompanying your new year at Jujutsu High.

Last year, at the very least, you had Yuta there who seemed on a fairly level playing field with you. Still, he held more of a determination to move forward in his life as a sorcerer than you did. After your encounter with Geto Suguru that had left you partially blinded in your right eye, it was difficult for you to find that gusto you had when you first arrived.

The deep lulls of slumber had just begun to penetrate your exhausted mind, and you could swear a more pleasant dream was just beyond your reach. When your phone began vibrating underneath your still cool pillow, your brows furrowed at the intrusion. The sound caused an electric-like jolt in your body that had you shooting up as if someone had just pulled the fire alarm. Calming your racing heart, you reached down to snatch the device up. Your eyes squinted to adjust to the blue light emitting from the screen, and you saw a number you didn’t recognize. Under the caller location though, it indicated that it was coming from Kenya.

Sitting up with a gasp, you gaped down at the device, uncertain excitement bubbling in your stomach and up your chest. Without a second thought, you swiped to answer the call. Amidst your anticipation of who you thought might be on the other line, you forgot to greet the caller.

“Um… uh- hello?”

A smile spread across your cheeks at the sound of his timid voice.

“A call from Kenya,” You began teasingly, your voice still hoarse from sleep. “I wonder who it could be.”

There was an abrupt shuffling on the other line, and you could already picture him pacing around whatever space he was currently occupying.

“You got me!” Yuta quipped nervously, quickly checking the time on his phone upon hearing the sleepy tone that laced your voice. It wasn’t too late over in Tokyo, and he figured if he didn’t call you now while he still had the nerve to do it, he never would. Okkotsu had determined during his time in Kenya that his confidence somehow peaked right after a successful mission. Naturally, this was when he calculated it would be the best time to call you with the lowest possibility of making a stuttering fool of himself. “Di-Did I wake you? I can call back another-”

“After you took three months to gather all that courage up?” You joked with a fond smile, reaching down to toy with the corner of your pillow. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “I think I can stay up for a few minutes.”

He was grateful, so eternally grateful that you couldn’t see the way the blood rushed up his neck and into his face. Pressing a cool hand against his cheek as if it would make the heat die down, he forced himself to sit on the edge of his bed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It had been too long already since he last spoke, and the silence on the call was becoming overbearing as he thought of anything to say.

“You there, Yuta?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh-- still here.” The boy chuckled pathetically, pounding his balled up fist against his thigh, willing himself to quit being such a loser. Shooting up to begin his short trek around his room once again, he took a deep breath. “I-I wanted to thank you. You know, for writing to me the past few months. I think they’ve been kind of motivating me, actually.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, lying back down on your pillow to stare stupidly up at the ceiling of your dorm. In hearing that shy voice that you had been missing for so long, you had forgotten about the aching, abused muscles that had been assaulting you just minutes prior. In its place was the rushing endorphins of your child-like crush on the boy on the other line. “So, when you come back strong enough to beat Sensei’s ass, I can take partial credit, right?”

His soft laugh filled your once silent room, inciting the overwhelming butterflies in your stomach to erupt in a fluttering haze.

“It’ll all be you.” Yuta joked halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his neck in relief that he’d gotten past the awkward silence unscathed. He flopped back down onto his bed and looked out the window at the slowly setting sun. “Uh… speaking of Sensei, how is everything over there? The exchange event is coming up soon, right?”

This made your smile slowly wane.

“Yeah, it’s next month. There was some drama with the first years, but everyone else seems to be pretty excited.”

“Everyone else? It sounds like you’re not including yourself in there.”

You sighed gently. Yuta was always so determined about growing as a sorcerer, so these types of events were always right up his alley. Not to mention the manner in which he absolutely wiped out the sister school at last year’s event. It actually caused a bit of second-hand embarrassment to watch the whole ordeal play out— no matter how quickly it concluded. After the atrocities of the past few months though, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be excited for the goodwill event.

It wasn’t that long ago that you watched all your friends meet near death at the hands of Suguru Geto, and you weren’t too far behind. They had all seemingly moved on from it all so fast— all of them except for Yuta Okkotsu. It seemed that all it had done was given him more ammunition to spark his journey of self discovery. You wished it had had the same effect on you. In truth though, all it sparked was a fear that your life, along with your friends, was constantly at the mercy of a crueler fate than most your age would be subjected to.

It felt wrong. Yuta shouldn’t have felt the need to bear the weight of you and your friends’ injuries all on his own. He shouldn’t have needed to go off to search for some unknown answer to all the insecurities his grueling life had thrust upon him. Still, it was so important to him. You could see the way it gave him purpose, a will to keep going despite all that he’d been through. It wasn’t his fault, but you always wished you could have found that same purpose within slaying curses and putting your life on the line.

A soft call of your name on the other line pulled you from your self-depricating thoughts. Shaking your head, you attempted to lighten the mood.

“Last name again? So formal. I thought we were past that, Okkotsu.”

“Oh-- right, sorry.” He stammered out before trying your first name out on his lips. It was delicate in the way it rolled off his tongue, sending warmth straight through your chest. Recalling your sudden silence once his nerves subsided, his lips pulled pensively into a thin line. “Um, have you been doing okay? You know, since…”

Brows rising just a hair, you were shocked at how easily he read through your sudden change in tone. Your lip quivered into a slight frown. A deep breath was suddenly pushing down that biting urge you had to tear up.

“Yeah, I’ve been okay. Just… wish you were still here is all.” You confessed into the dark, lonely dorm room. “I think you were the only one who understood how overwhelming this all was.”

Yuta felt his chest constrict at your earnest confession. Part of him felt guilty for not being there, but he knew deep down that he was doing the right thing by building himself up before he allowed himself to come back— especially to you. Still, the boy knew where you were coming from. It wasn’t easy being the newcomer in a world where your peers had a fifteen year head start on.

The two of you understood each other—empathized with one another. You both strived to make sure the other was doing okay; whether that be sneaking out late at night to practice with one another in hopes you both wouldn’t make fools of yourselves in training the next day, or just being someone that the other could glance knowingly at when one of your classmates mentioned something it seemed that everyone else was privy to, except you two.

“I’m getting stronger everyday.” Yuta offered earnestly, a soft, empathetic smile playing on his lips— the kind you could just hear through his gentle tone. “And I know you are too. We’re gonna kick some major butt one day, y’know?”

The boy was relieved when your glittering laugh filled his speakers, and he found himself laughing along with you. A comfortable silence blanketed over you two, and for a moment it felt as though you were laying right beside him, your gentle breaths lighting a fire within his soul. The courage that he thought he had lost upon hearing your voice for the first time in months was slowly flooding back to him, and he began pensively rolling his bottom lip between his fingers.

“Hey,” Okkotsu called out feebly, resting his hand down on his chest and feeling his heart pounding against his fingers. Reaching down to your discarded letter beside him, he picked up the picture you’d sent along with it. It was of all the second years, and he wondered with a smile if you had Gojo-Sensei take it for you all, and, if so, how much he complained about not being included.

You stood in the middle of Inumaki and Maki, Panda standing proudly and towering behind you. His thumb reached out to graze softly over your face. In the photo, one of your hands was teasingly covering your right eye, and he blushed as he remembered your earlier conversation about that scar. You hummed in acknowledgment on the other line. “Did you mean it? You know… when you said you’d wait for me?”

“Did you mean it when you said you were gonna come back for me?” You countered quickly.

Yuta exhaled nervously, the churning in his chest making him feel as though he might pass out. Staring back at your smiling face in the photo, he nodded breathlessly.

“Of course, I meant it. I meant every word.”

“Then so did I.”

Yuta Okkotsu’s reassuring promise helped ground you in your studies of jujutsu for a while longer, but you could still feel the aching insistence in the back of your mind that told you this wasn’t where you were meant to be. Your friendship with the sorcerer continued to grow even over the thousands of miles that separated you.

He’d call you whenever he had the chance to, and you’d text him about updates on what all his friends had been up to without him. Although both Inumaki and Maki kept up with him regularly, he allowed you to retell stories he’d more often than not already heard from them.

He could tell that you were struggling to find and hold your place as a sorcerer. You always listened enthusiastically when he’d tell you about the new techniques he was learning or the missions he’d been sent on, nodding along on the other line and hanging onto every word he said. Still, when he’d await to hear the progress of your training or how your latest mission had gone, you didn’t have the same enthusiasm in your tone.

It had been almost a year since he’d been gone. The two of you had never implicitly discussed the nature of your relationship, but your lingering promise to each other seemed to be enough to keep your hearts locked safely away for the other’s return. As the months dragged on though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth staying in the world of jujutsu that seemed to so expertly traumatize you and your peers.

You insisted on video calling him for once, eager to once again put a face to the voice that had been filling your every night for the past few months. Maybe, you thought to yourself, if you saw those warm, inviting eyes again paired with that timid smile, you’d find it in you to hold out just a bit longer.

“Ca-Can you see me?” Yuta’s ever anxious voice filled your quiet room once again. The palm of his hand briefly covered the camera before it was moved away, and it appeared as though he had propped you up on a dresser of some sort. He stepped back, hunching over so his face was still in the frame, staring hesitantly into the screen.

A brief exhale of disbelief left you at the sight of him. He had changed so much over the past year; from the inches he’d sprouted up, to the new broadness of his lean shoulders, right down to his more maturely parted hair as it swayed in his face.

His features appeared sharper than when you’d last seen him, a testament to how much he’d grown physically as well as mentally. The dark circles you remember being everpresent under his long, midnight-blue eyes seemed even more pronounced now, and you wondered just how hard this Miguel character had been working him. Despite his apparent lack of sleep though, he grinned cheerfully upon seeing your face.

Forgoing your previous concern, an ecstatic smile of your own lit up your face as you took him in. You had always thought he had a sort of innocent, gentle cuteness to him, but time and knowledge seemed to have morphed those characteristics into the sharp, hauntingly striking ghost of the boy you once knew presented before you. For the first time since knowing him, you thought you felt more nervous than he did at the moment.

“Wow! You look--” He paused, a slight flush filling his face, and suddenly he was that timid boy again, staring down at you with the false promise of a kiss. Your heart melted at the sight. Yuta was still looking nervously back at you, mouth hanging open as if his mind was running faster than his tongue could process. You raised your brows expectantly at him, hiding your amused smile. “Uh—pretty! You— you look really pretty.”

A soft blush fell across your cheeks.

“Thanks, Yuta.” You laughed softly, eyes fluttering across his face admiringly. “You look like you’ve… grown.”

“Oh, me?” He laughed skittishly, hand coming up to rustle through his jet black locks. His brows were furrowed slightly as he looked down at his own appearance as if he was only just now noticing the growth spurt he’d had in the past year. “Yeah! I guess—”

“Is that blood on your shirt?” You suddenly noticed, leaning forward so your squinting eyes could get a better look at the dark matter that clung to his white top. His eyes shot up to meet yours, and in an instant, his fumbling hands were working to unbutton his uniform shirt. It was no use though, the white t-shirt underneath was also stained through.

“Sorry, I just got back from a mission.” He admitted dejectedly, grabbing the phone and sitting on the floor, resting his back against the bed behind him. “I would’ve showered, but I didn’t want to keep you up too late.”

You sat back against your headboard tentatively. It was incredible to you how he was never phased by the violence and bloodshed that shrouded this lifestyle. There were so many nights that you lay awake, eyes unblinking as you tried to forget the horrors you’d witnessed just long enough to get some sleep.

“How do you do it, Yu?” You asked timidly.

Yuta took in the way your wide eyes glimmered with the threat of unspilled tears. There it was again— that underlying fear in your tone and demeanor that told him that something wasn’t quite right, and it hadn’t been right since you came so close to death.

“What do you mean, love?” He wasn’t sure where that term of endearment came from, maybe from the concern that had been pooling in him for months and had now suddenly burst upon seeing that broken look in your eyes. Either way, it was too late to take it back now.

“Act like everything’s normal when you come home covered in blood and guts and watch people die— watch your friends—”

“I’m doing this for my friends.” His response had a defensive edge to it, but his wide eyes were gentle, taking in your vulnerable state carefully. “And for the people I’ve had to watch die. Bad things will happen whether I’m a part of them or not. How can I sit back and do nothing when that’s all I’ve done my entire life?”

You suddenly felt small in your corner of the world. He was selfless, fearless, purposeful in his mission as a sorcerer, and you couldn’t fault him for it. Moreso, you faulted yourself for lacking that same drive.

“I just– sometimes I feel like this isn’t for me. I’m not like you, Yuta. I don’t think I’m strong enough for this. I’m not strong enough for this.”

Yuta continued to insist upon believing in your growth, just as you had believed in his. His persistence in your strength of character only served to break your heart more. You knew the deeper his faith in you ran, the more crushing his disappointment would be when you inevitably let him down.

In the weeks following your dismayed conversation with him, you weren’t answering his calls as often, afraid he would be on the other line hoping to hear of your growth and the things you’d overcome— but you had none to show for. You usually texted him with false excuses that you were on a mission, or that you were simply too tired to talk that night. No matter how hard you tried to pride yourself in your little victories, your faith in your abilities as a sorcerer was waning quickly before your eyes.

He had always said that he was the one undeserving of his place in this world— of his place beside you. The stronger he grew though, the more you only noticed the opposite.

It was a month after your phone call that you received a small package from Kenya, recognizing the stamp immediately as one of the various animal themed ones Yuta seemed to keep stockpiled just for you. Chewing at your bottom lip, a sense of guilt washed over you, knowing you hadn’t been keeping up with him as much as you once did. Despite this, he continued to try, desperate to get through to you somehow before you slipped from between his fingers all together.

Ripping open the orange, padded envelope, you overturned the contents onto your bed. The wooden beads of a bracelet clacked softly against one another as they fell upon the comforter, a letter landing gently atop it. You ran your fingers along the thin bracelet, thinking maybe if you concentrated long enough, you’d be able to feel the warmth of his fingers lingering from when he’d carefully placed it into the envelope for you. You picked up the accompanying letter.

Dear Y/N,

It seems like they’ve been keeping you really busy over there in your corner of the world! I had so much I wanted to tell you, but I thought maybe it’d be best to put it all into a letter so you could read it at a time that’s best for you.

Gojo-Sensei says that I’ll probably be coming back soon, maybe in the next couple of months even. If all goes well, I hope to be joining everyone for our final year. It’d be nice to all be together again. It’d be nice to actually see you again.

You don’t have to tell me everything, but I know you’ve been going through a hard time recently, and I’m sorry I’m not there to help you. You were wrong the other night on the phone— you are stronger than you think. This life isn’t easy, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not fit for it just because it hurts you right now.

When I felt I had no strength left in me to keep going, it was you who lent me some of yours until I could stand again. I’m sending it back to you now, so please use it to keep moving forward until I can lend you some of mine. Please, keep waiting for me.

The beads on the bracelet I sent you represent all the things I wish for you. The red represent bravery and strength, the kind I know you have in you still. Until you find them though, let these be a reminder. The yellow are for growth, and until you can see it coming your way, let these motivate you.

I got one just like it for myself, so I can be reminded everyday of the things I love about you. I’ll keep it on me always, and I hope as you’re waiting that you’ll do the same.

Still yours,

Yuta.

Tears were streaming freely down your cheeks and staining the precious letter before you. With wobbling lips, you bit back a quiet sob as you carefully slipped the thin bracelet onto your wrist. Strength. Bravery. Growth. They were all pillars that seemed so far away from you, but Yuta was convinced you held them just within your grasp. If anything, the beads would serve as a reminder that someone important was counting on you, and you’d rather suffer the uphill battle than disappoint him.

The next morning, you woke early to speak with Gojo. He was lounging lazily in his large, plush chair, laptop sat carelessly on his lap when you came in. As if expecting you all along, he looked up from his bored typing to offer a sly smile— the type that told you he was always steps ahead of you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gojo greeted, closing his laptop and setting it haphazardly on his desk. Leaning back, he laced his fingers casually in his lap, jutting his chin toward the seat in front of him.

Hesitantly, you sat down. Your posture was rigid as you stared back at his half-covered face. Although your sensei had never given you a reason to fear him, you couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of how he might react to your request.

“I… I don’t know how to say this.”

He stayed silent, allowing you to collect your thoughts. The small smile tugging at his lips said he already knew what was plaguing your mind. Fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, you were reminded of the importance that you stand your ground here.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for being a sorcerer.” It was out there, and it hung heavily in the air around you. Looking down at your twiddling fingers, you felt that familiar lump building in your throat. Your sensei was silent before you. Glancing up at him through tear soaked eyes, you shrugged your shoulders in defeat. “I’m not like the others. I can’t bounce back like they do. It scares me; the death, the fighting, the loss— it terrifies me, Gojo. I can’t do it anymore. I-I just—”

“You’ve been struggling for a while now, haven’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question— an observation he’d been holding onto for some time. The older man wasn’t oblivious, he could see when his students were beginning to slip away; physically and mentally.

“How did you know?” You briefly wondered if Yuta had mentioned something to him during their regular check in calls, but you doubted it.

Standing abruptly from his chair, he strolled leisurely around the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“You remind me of someone, is all.” Gojo’s cryptic message left more questions than answers. Though you had grown used to his dodgy answers and coded messages, now was really not the time. Before you could express your annoyance, he continued. “You’re not stuck, you know.”

Your mouth hung open as you stared at him in disbelief. Standing up to face him as he stared out the window, your mind was racing at the possibilities.

“You mean— I could leave? Just like that?”

“Just like that. I’d talk to the higher ups today for you if that’s really what you want.” Still, the edge in his tone indicated that he wasn’t about to let you off that easily. As if sensing your apprehension, he tilted his head playfully toward you, a fond smile on his face. “I’ve seen what this gig can do to people. I don’t need to see you fall victim to it too.”

“I mean— I…” You were stumbling over your words. For the past few years, you were sure that your future was set for you— one you were apprehensive about living, but one that was secure nonetheless. Where would you go from here?

Gojo hummed pensively— invitingly. God, how you wished he would just spit out what he clearly wanted so desperately to say. Of course, he always wanted his students to come to their own conclusions, set their own fates.

“The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.” The sensei announced dramatically, taking another lap around the room. You shivered at the mention of that night. He leaned toward you with a raised brow. “That’s when this all started, am I right? You almost died, if I remember correctly.”

“I would have if it hadn’t been for—”

“Yuta Okkotsu.” He cut you off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, and for a moment you thought you saw his head tilt down as if to look at the bracelet you were currently rolling between your fingers. Nodding softly, he continued. “Still, you cut it pretty close. Must have been traumatizing. Partially lost your sight, almost lost your friends, your life.”

You nodded silently, unsure of where he was going with this long winded rant. Of course, him giving you a simple out was just too easy for Gojo-Sensei’s ‘everything is a life lesson’ style of teaching.

“Tell you what, why don’t I set up a meeting for you to meet with a counselor? Someone who specializes in all our creepy-crawly problems?”

“Like… like therapy?” You questioned with furrowed brows. A therapist for sorcerers? You didn’t even know such a thing existed. Still, the prospect sparked a certain hope in your chest, one that the six eyes saw instantly. He didn’t bother to conceal his victorious smile.

“Yup. Nice, comfy couch and everything.” He advertised as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His long fingers began typing purposefully against the screen before he looked up at you again. “Of course, she’s kind of running a one-man show, so her schedule is pretty tight. I can pull a few strings for you though.” His words rang in your mind with a faint echo. That suggestive, underlying tone in his voice, it was beginning to seep through, and your gut was telling you his suggestion was a lot more calculated than you would ever give him credit for. “That kind of work is in high demand, you know— what with all the new curses popping up since Itadori came along.”

Gojo was continuing to drop hints, but you had already heard him loud and clear. This was something he thought you could do— somewhere he knew you would fit within this hectic world. As a teacher, it was his job to train the up and coming sorcerers for the perils that lay ahead of them. In the same prospect though, he had also become incredibly adept at discovering their potential and nudging them toward it— even if it wasn’t as gently as he thought.

The following week you met with the therapist Gojo had supposedly pulled so many strings to get you in to see. She had a small office just minutes away from the school, and you wondered why she wasn’t on campus. She hadn’t suggested it to you first, though she was well aware of what Gojo was trying to do when he set up this meeting.

So, amidst your explanation of everything you had been experiencing since that night, you dropped in questions. How did she know this was the right path for her— how closely did she work with Jujutsu High— how did she get where she was?

By the gentle and encouraging manner in which she answered all of your questions, you had a gut feeling once again that Gojo had already been three steps ahead of you. You were set to transfer out of Jujutsu High the following week.

Your sensei funded your education through an outside university, who’s higher ups had connections with the school. Kaori, the god-sent sorcerer counselor who’d seemingly fallen from the heavens right when you needed her, was more than happy to take you under her wing as well. In truth, she was relieved to have some help around the office given the influx of referrals she’d been receiving recently.

Everything had been falling into place, yet there was still one last loose end you had yet to tie up from your life as a sorcerer. You looked down at the box of letters you’d kept over the past year or so from Yuta.

Following his last letter, and how determined he seemed to be that you would make it as a sorcerer— you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you had given up. After everything he’d done to grow himself into the man he was now, a fearless and loyal sword to his friends and the innocent— and you had given up. In the end, despite his insistence that it was him not worthy enough to stick around, you realized it had been you all along.

You weren’t worthy of Yuta Okkotsu.

Your trembling finger hovered over his contact, but you couldn’t do it. Clicking your phone off, you stared up at the ceiling of your now empty dorm room and allowed the hot tears to burn your cheeks, dripping down your neck and into the hem of your shirt. He was still finishing up his training, growing into a man he could be proud of, experiencing the things that made him feel alive. It would be selfish of you to drop this on him now.

Setting down the box on your desk, you pulled out a spare sheet of paper and sat down to draft your last prose to Yuta Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you will have already heard about my departure from Jujutsu High. I wanted to call you and tell you everything that’s been on my mind, to give you a proper goodbye, but I didn’t want to interrupt your progress overseas.

I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. I’ll cherish each bit of it as long as I live. You kept me holding on through my lowest points, even if it wasn’t the life of sorcery that I was holding onto.

I know I’m cowardly, but I just couldn’t look you in the eyes and tell you that I had given up. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to hold your place here, and I suppose a part of me feels foolish for giving mine up so easily.

Your passion for undoing the wrongs in this world is so beautiful, and although I couldn’t share it with you, it only ever made me love you more. Please never take it for granted. Continue to fight to hold your place here, because you hold more power than you could ever come to know. I can feel it, even when you’re not here.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t wait for you.

Forever yours,

Y/N

When Yuta Okkotsu arrived back at Jujutsu High three months later, he had already been sitting on the news of your departure for two weeks. His friends thought it best to at least prepare him for when he returned, but he figured so much when you stopped responding to his calls and messages. No amount of preparation could have stopped the hole from opening up in his chest upon reading the letter you’d left in his dorm room. It sat neatly on his untouched pillow— a ghost that haunted him the second he stepped in.

He tried with fervor to be excited for his return, smiling along half heartedly when his friends shoved a party hat on his head and insisted upon celebrating all the birthdays they’d missed. Those haunting blue eyes only stared lifelessly at the cake before him, his soul still sat on the edge of his bed where he’d read your letter.

Forever yours.

Yuta wondered if those simple two words meant the door was open for him to swing in and come find you as he so ardently promised he would. Gojo-Sensei said you were happy though— working toward your place in the world. It was one he no longer felt he had a place in— not when his life consisted so wholly of the very things you were running from.

Months passed, and the both of you tried so desperately to move on. Despite being content in the roots your lives had sprouted, there was always a missing piece that stopped the both of you from blossoming. You always held your breath in hopes he’d come back to you like he said he would, and he always hoped you were still waiting for him despite his insistence that you were happier without him. The both of you were only kids when you’d carelessly thrown out such a vow, after all.

Gojo felt whole-heartedly confident in his whim to have Kaori train you. There was a spark in you, one that wanted to heal those that this world had so carelessly wounded, even if that meant you having to heal yourself first. In the end, it was the right decision, and he prided himself in the fact that there was a happy medium to keep your talents within the jujutsu world still while also fulfilling your purpose. There was a missing piece of the puzzle that lingered ever present though, and that was the infuriating case of you and Yuta Okkotsu.

It was getting depressing— watching the boy mope around pretending to not have the very obvious chip on his shoulder all the damn time. Your old sensei still kept up with you and your progress often, seeing as the school worked closely with Kaori to refer in need sorcerers on a regular basis.

Each time he’d pop in for a visit or called unexpectedly, you’d always ask how everyone back at the school was doing. Sure, you really did hope your old friends were doing okay, but you were really holding your breath for when he’d mention Yuta. Gojo always spoke of him so highly, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly each time, thinking of how proud you were at how much he’d accomplished— just as he said he would. Still, the six eyes never missed that morose glimmer in your eye as you’d nod along to his stories.

“Have you ever tried sleeping at night, or are those dark circles just a part of you now?”

Yuta was snapped from his stupor when his sensei dropped unceremoniously beside him as he looked on at his friends ahead of him. As if having just been reminded of his perpetual exhaustion, he reached up subconsciously to rub at those aforementioned dark eyes.

“Oh, haha,” Yuta’s halfhearted attempt at a laugh only served to drive Gojo’s purpose right home. “Yeah, guess my sleep schedule never really adjusted back to normal, huh?”

“You aren’t performing like you should be, Okkotsu.”

He gaped exasperatedly at his sensei, blinking a few times as if maybe he just hadn’t heard him correctly. Frankly, he had been kicking ass lately, and everyone around him knew it too. Still, if Gojo-Sensei was telling him he was falling behind, it was seemingly the only opinion that mattered. Even if it wore him down till only his skeleton remained, he would keep getting better until he could prove himself to the man who took a chance on him.

Already picking up on the look of determination on the boy’s face, Gojo put out a solemn ‘slow your roll’ hand in front of him. Sighing in amusement, the sensei thought the boy would crush a semi-truck between his hands if it’d make him grow— meant he could prove himself.

“Your mind isn’t here. Hasn’t been since you got back. I can tell, you know.”

Okkotsu’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. No matter how much he worked to train physically, to learn to control his cursed energy and techniques, there was always that one lingering barrier that seemed to keep him from reaching his potential. Of course, he knew he had been more distracted since your departure, but he figured— hoped— it would pass eventually. He thought maybe if he ignored it long enough, pushed down that frenzy to rip his hair out by the roots and bellow out every frustration he’d held in for allowing you to slip away, each day as the urge melted away into dreams of you at night that woke him with a crater in his chest— maybe eventually it would fade just as you did.

“Try to get some rest, clear your mind. Do what you gotta do.” Gojo emphasized, leaning down to tower over his apprehensive prodigy with a knowing smile. His covered eyes flicked down to where Yuta’s fingers were rolling the beads of his colorful bracelet pensively. He hummed in amusement. “You know, I know someone who has that same bracelet.”

His student perked up ever so subtly upon hearing this. The prying man quickly moved to grasp his wrist and inspect the bracelet closer. It made Yuta feel exposed, wanting to crawl under his covers and not come out again if it meant no one else would lay their eyes on the one connection he still had to you. Gulping thickly, he snatched his wrist back, covering the wooden jewelry protectively under his other hand.

“Oh, you know her, don’t you?” Satoru feigned remembrance, snapping his fingers dramatically. “She used to go here.”

The stunned boy stammered out your name in question. It still felt so natural, so effortless rolling off of his tongue despite the prolonged period that had passed since he’d uttered those syllables.

“Yeah! Saw it on her just last week.”

All the blood seemed to drain from Yuta Okkotsu’s face. His wide, haunting eyes suddenly transfixed hazily on the smiling man before him in a manner that would have been terrifying had it been directed at a stranger. You still wore the bracelet he got you? The prospect had his mind spinning, and his stomach churning anxiously. The poor guy looked as though he would short circuit at any moment; brows twitching into a deep furrow, the corners of his lips fluttering in uncertainty. He blinked a few times before looking up at his sensei with a new sense of determination clouding his eyes.

“Where did you say she went?”

Bingo!

The clock’s ticking mocked you menacing as you raced to finish your assessment notes within the hour. Kaori was always merciful with you, understanding that you were still learning and would likely take more time with things, but you couldn’t help but urge yourself to do better.

It had been almost a year that you had been studying while working alongside the counselor, and you had blossomed in a way you never thought would have been possible. Granted, you weren’t able to do any of what you had lovingly labeled as ‘the fun stuff’ yet, you had adjusted surprisingly well to the countless intake assessments and documentation your mentor had entrusted you with. Of course, it wasn’t the same as having a second counselor there with her, but anything helped ease the weight of her overwhelming caseload. She knew it was good experience for you too.

Despite her hectic schedule, Kaori still found time to meet with you often to check in regarding the struggles that brought you to her in the first place, insisting it would be a crucial step in your training as well. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to rebuild that confidence in yourself and your own purpose in this monstrous world. It felt cathartic, being a part of the process of healing for those torn down by the very things that hurt you so long ago as well. It was meaningful— fulfilling.

You wondered if this was how Yuta felt when he was out there, helping people as well, just in his own way. A sharp pang struck you each time your mind wandered too far though, and you were always quick to reel it back in.

Your bottom lip was caught ruthlessly between your teeth, and it seemed the clacking of your keyboard was fighting against the ticking of the clock for dominance. A small spark of defeat struck you as you heard the door of the office creak open. Looking up at the time, your brows furrowed in confusion. You were sure that you had already completed the last intake Kaori had scheduled for you today. Scrambling into the drawer beside you to pull out a new form, you hoped you would at least look somewhat prepared whenever the unexpected patient came to your desk.

“Hi, there!” You called out from your tucked away cubicle, fumbling to save the document you were working on. “I’m back here, you can come on in.”

Slow footsteps approached closer and closer before pausing in front of your desk. Pushing the hair from your eyes, you looked up with a warm, inviting smile.

Oh.

The smile on your face slowly faded as Yuta Okkotsu towered over your desk. It wasn’t the version of him you once knew; this one was taller, more refined, more calculated with the manner in which he held himself. His wide, midnight-blue eyes regarded you carefully, but his face revealed nothing. Your mouth opened and closed pathetically, your mind desperately trying to catch up with the way your day had suddenly progressed. Stepping forward, he calmly sank down into the chair in front of you, hands gripping the arms casually.

“Yu—”

“I heard you offer counseling for sorcerers, right?” He was suddenly smiling sweetly at you, but there was a controlled glint in his eyes— holding him back. Not allowing you to respond, he continued. “Well, I have some things to get off my chest, so it’s lucky I found you, huh?”

You sank back into your chair, allowing the papers in your hands to slip from your fingers and swoosh softly onto the desk. Nodding gently, you urged him to go on, anxiety balling up in the pit of your stomach. He launched off on a long-winded story, one you already knew like the back of your hand— you lived it, after all. Your already knowing the climax didn’t stop the furious blush that overtook you as he recalled the letter he’d found in his dorm upon his arrival back to Tokyo.

“She always had this sweet way of signing off all her letters to me.” Yuta recounted with a soft smile, eyes glimmering as they looked back at you. Yours, on the other hand, were holding back the dam of tears that had been building up for countless months. As the first tear slipped down your cheek, you saw his resolve start to crumble, gaze chasing the drop as it raced down your skin. His bottom lip trembled. “She signed that last one— she signed it off ‘forever yours’, but I never saw her again.”

“Yuta—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t happy?” He finally snapped, his own tears swimming in his eyes. Bracing his hands on the desk, he leaned forward desperately. “I would’ve understood, I would’ve—”

“I tried! I tried to tell you, but you were so sure that I was going to get through it. How was I supposed to look you in the eyes after you gave up so much of your life to train to be better? How was I supposed to tell you I was giving up?”

“You promised me!” His cry rang out in the quiet office, shoving his chair back to stand over you once again. You heard Kaori’s office door open abruptly, likely startled by the perceived altercation. Despite his dominating presence and lingering stance, you couldn’t find it in you to be intimidated by him. You shook your head softly toward your mentor, letting her know you were fine. As the door hesitantly shut once again, Yuta was sinking closer to you despairingly. “I would’ve come back for you— I wouldn’t have cared where I had to look, okay? I wouldn’t have cared that you left everything— but you weren’t supposed to leave me.”

His wounded tone finally caught up to you, and you let your head fall down onto your crumpled hands as you cried. Yuta sighed softly, almost regretting his stinging confession. Quickly looping around the desk, he settled down on his knees in front of you and turned you to face him.

“I’m sorry, Yuta.” You cried, falling into him as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you from your chair. He was stronger than you last remembered him being, but his touch was just as delicate. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Hey, it’s okay. We’re here now, right?” He assured gently, pulling you away from his chest so he could look at you with a smile, tears still clinging to his lashes. His cool hand ran down from your shoulder to your wrist, and he traced the bracelet that hadn’t come off your wrist since you received it. A soft flush covered his cheeks. “You kept it, huh?”

“You kept yours, too.” You laughed breathlessly, wiping at your cheeks with one hand and grasping his bracelet with the other.

“I told you, I always meant everything I said to you. I still do.” His words almost made you break down again, but you worried if you started boo-hoo crying again that Kaori might just burst through the door with more determination than she had last time.

So instead, you took a moment to glance over his matured face, shaking your head in amusement upon seeing those familiar dark circles still hanging under his eyes. Your heart clenched as your eyes ran across the small scar that Maki left on his forehead. When you met his gaze once again, it gave you pause. Yuta had that look in his eyes— the same one he had all those years ago before he left for Kenya. The rapid patter of your heart could be felt in your throat.

Despite your nerves, your lips twitched up into a knowing smile. You reached up tentatively to place a hand over your right eye, covering the scar that had stopped him all those years ago. He pursed his lips at this action and shook his head. In an instant, his long fingers were wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face.

“Don’t.” Yuta said simply before leaning down to capture your lips in his, more assuredly than his sixteen year old self ever could have dared to, but just as sweetly as the boy who promised to come back to you would have.

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ghostieyanyan · 3 months ago

Note

Hello uuuh what yandere riddle rose heart react if he met Mc like...mc is the princess of redrose thorn in another kingdom and she is the house warden president in another school....she is powerful...and mc doesn't have too strict rules but mcs student respect her and there are only 5 rules...1 don't be late 2 always do your cleaning day 3 no running in the halls 4 always respect and kind each other 5 never let the house warden president mad.......cause mc gets really scary than riddle and mc sometimes a little crazy and punished of who will messing with her classmates dorm or who will getting violent...

~Rose Princess! Mc~

Yan!Riddle x Rose Princess! Mc

Warning: yandere, implied kidnapping, maybe some misspellings,

I made it so this mc isn't perfect! i hope that's okay

~~~

Riddle ran things his way. its either you follow all of his rules or "off with your head!" Even after the overblot, he's became or lenient but overall he's still a stickler for rules.

When Riddle met you, he didn't really mind it too much. you were just mixed with those other trouble makers in school. as long as you didn't get in to trouble, he'll stay out of your way.

That changed when he keep seeing you in Heartslabyul. its one thing is he were to find you with ace, deuce, grim, and the prefect. but its another when he sees you messing with his roses!!!

"Hey!!"

You jumped and wiped your head around to see a red faced Riddle.

"Who gave you authorization to touch the roses?!"

When he got closer, he realized you were tending to the roses! You were cutting off the dead branches that other students will either ignore or not noticed. Those branches are often by the roots of the brush, which makes it an unpleasant job to do. It showed on your hands and arms too. Cuts from the roses thorns...

"Oh my! I am very sorry, Head housewarden."

You stood up and bowed your head. which he wasn't prepared for a formal greeting. With the crowd you spend your time with... who could blame him...

"i noticed that some of the branches were rotting, so I've taken it upon myself to tend to them before they spread. i told Vice warden Trey ahead of time which he'd told me... he'll tell you..."

Riddle blinked. He looked at your work, the roots have been cleared of its old rotten branches and it looked overall more healthier. He turned to look at a basket you had, it was filled with a mixture of tools and roots. Riddle shifted his glaze at you. You're uniform was messy, with rips and dirt everywhere...

"Im sorry House Warden! i should have came to you directly for this request! Im sorry!"

You bowed your head again.

Riddle looked at everything one more time and turned to you.

"How do you know how to tend to the roses..? Not a lot of people know or even think about working with roses because of their thorns.."

You lifted your head, swiping your uniform to get rid of any lose dirt.

"Im..."

You bit your tongue for a moment then let out a breathe to continue.

"Im a Princess Redrose Thorn..."

Riddle had to do a double take on you.

"A princess..??"

There was an awkward moment of silence. You were about to continue when Riddle stopped you.

"finish with what you are doing here and after you are done, clean up and meet me in my room, please."

Riddle turned on his heel and started to walk away, after finishing with-.

"I'd like to discuss this when you are more presentable."

Then he was off..

Before your "meet up," he got himself your records. You were a princess in a land that are known for their different variations of roses. Nothing like Queendom of Roses, his homeland.

He found your last school, and how you had a very important role in that school. That was, before you were accepted in Night Raven College...

While he was lost in thought, looking at your files, he hears a knock.

"Come it!"

Riddle watched your head peep out behind the door. He tried to keep a neutral face but kinda failed...

"Ahem-! Please take a seat! I've.. made tea."

Watching Riddle stammer a bit was cute. you gave him a smile and walked inside, closing the door on the way. Riddle took the chance to pull out your seat, "out of respect".

There was an awkward moment of quiet but you didn't mind it. You took the opportunity too look at the house warden's room. Its as you expected it. Everything is neat and tidy. Everything is where it should be, very orderly. You see lots of books!! On his book shelf, on his desk, side table, they weren't messy but neatly stacked which you appreciate.

"Ahem!"

You jumped and turned to Riddle. You didn't mean to get lost in thought but you did.

"About the roses..."

"I really am sorry for messing with them without your permission, head-"

"Riddle. And its alright, i haven't seen anyone pay that much attention to their responsibility in the dorm. Normally they cut corners and not thing of the overall dorm structure."

He took a sip of his tea and glared to the imaginary freshman Heartslaybul students to the side.

"heh.. I just know how to tend to them."

"You said that you are a princess? why would a princess actively gets her hands dirty?"

"Oh!"

You laughed as you looked at your tea cup, running your fingers against the details of the saucer.

"where ive from, id like to rule hands on."

You straighten yourself and looked at Riddle. He swore you were glowing.

"The place i protect is my home too. As a princess, i have big responsibilities but i cant forget the little things either. That's why i like to be hands on."

Riddle felt a stammer coming, so he took a sip to stop it.

"Your homeland... its also practices the Queen of Hearts rule, correct?"

"well... yes and no?"

Riddle felt a twitch, how could you follow someone like the queen of hearts without following all her rules to a T? You're basically making a mockery of her... what a joke..

"My kingdom believes in what she stand for. Strength and Beauty! like a Rose with their thorns. Roses are used of many things, but they are not push overs. That's what we believe."

You took a sip but continued.

"Before i was accepted into Night Raven College, I was a part of another school, Rose Royal Academy. You could think of it as if Heartslabyul was a whole school. You could say i was the "housewarden" so i understand how things should run."

Riddle looked at you surprised. Honestly he was only listening partly to what you were saying, he was distracted by the way your lips moved... But he was quick grounded after hearing you were borderline a housewarden??

"Wait! how could you run a whole school without following all the rules of the queen of hearts?? It would have been mayhem! The students need structure, if not theyre just wild beast!!"

You looked at him surprised and kinda insulted by the idea of your classmates before were "such beast.' You coughed but answered his question.

"it wasnt like we didnt have rules, we just had 5."

You took a sip of tea as Riddle coughed.

"5?!?!"

"Yes. 5."

You placed your cup down and held up 5 fingers to name the rules.

"1, don't be late. Everyone should be punctual with time unless there's an emergency. 2, always do your cleaning day. Everyone has a task to clean a part of the school, classroom, dorms, gym, cafeteria, even the rose gardens. This place is our home and it will not be tolerated living in a mess! 3, no running in the halls. You could hurt someone or even hurt yourself. Running is only allowed for gym or emergency. 4, always respect and be kind to each other. We should all aim to help each other. And if you don't like someone, agree to disagree or compromise. 5, never let the house warden president mad. If you break one of the rules with a valid reason, your punishment will be light. If i smell deceive, your punishment will be swift and one to remember."

You both sat there for a minute of silences.

"w-well, thats how i ran things. we still had unbirthday parties, tea parties, etc. but overall those were the rules."

Riddle sat there staring, kinda like watching a wheel turning. he was about to respond to you before a knock was heard from the door.

"come in!"

Trey walked in with Cater following behind.

"we're hear with the repor- oh! sorry are we interrupting?"

"oooo~ what's happening here~? this seems very romantic."

Riddle's face turned red.

"what?!? its just a-"

"Riddle invited to talk about my years before NRC. I should be heading out anyway. I have to get some books in the library."

Riddle jumped up from his seat.

"if you need a book, i might have one here..?"

Trey and Cater stood to the side watching there Housewarden fumble at you.

"heh.. its alright. i asked the librarian to hold that book for me a few days ago. Thank you though. And thank you for the tea. Good bye."

You bowed your head as you walked out. Trey and Cater quickly turned to their friend, noticing how red he is..

"awww.. sorry for interrupting your little date house warden~"

"Hem-! Cater, i expect the roses in the hallways to be all clean and have fresh water before curfew.."

"a...ah... okay."

Trey holds in a laugh.

~~~

The next coming days, Riddle watches you help the other Heartslaybul students, in there tasks or school work. The students started to call you their Rose mom. Sweet and gentle but will show thorns if underestimated.

He has watched you tell a student to go finished their assignment for a class their falling behind and let you finished their cleaning task.

He also watched you help Ace, Deuce, Prefect, and Grim with an assignment with Crewel.

He watched you help Trey in the kitchen and watched you help Cater set the table for an unbirthday party.

With everything you do that made his heart flutter, you do something that made him wish that you would help him, mainly stay by his side.

A dark part of him wanted to keep you to himself and personally train you to stay by his side. That sweet attitude of yours should be his and his alone.

He'll make you his prefect rose. if he shaped you just right, his mother might accept you as a daughter-in-law. With you by his side, he could do anything.

So just wait a little longer, he'll get everything ready for you~

~~~

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thatscarletflycatcher · 2 months ago

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"I do not wish to call you my friend because I hope to call you something infinitely more dear... I rode through the rain... I'd ride through worse than that if I could just hear your voice telling me that I might at least have some chance to win you... maybe it is our imperfections that make us perfect for one another. Marry me? Marry me, my wonderful, darling friend."

"But you... you were not deceived, were you? You held to what you knew in your heart. Constant, constant as the rain! What should I do if you should ever go away? My dearest Fanny."

"Fanny, I must confess something. I have loved you all my life... as a man loves a woman, as a hero loves a heroine, as I have never loved anyone in my entire life. I was so anxious to do what is right, that I forgot to do what is right. But if you choose me, after all my blundering and blindness, that will be a happiness which no description could reach."

"Oh, Elinor, I have longed for this moment from the instant of our first meeting, dear, dear Elinor. Would you... could you possibly... How could anyone help to love you?"

"I have come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours."

"Miss Dashwood, Elinor, I came here with no expectation, after everything that has happened you have every right to turn me away this instant. But I cannot leave here without conveying the intensity of my feelings for you... Every day since I first saw you, my love for you has grown. Elinor, I have no right to hope, but I must ask: can you forgive me? Can you love me? Will you marry me?"

"I told him that I felt myself bound to you, by honor, by affection, and by a love so strong, that nothing he could do could deter me from... Before I go on I should tell you there is a pretty good chance he'll disinherit me. I fear I may never be a rich man, Catherine. Will you marry me, Catherine?"

"Elinor, I would not blame you if you wanted me to leave, but please allow me... my engagement to Lucy was a folly of youth. I never felt for her or for anyone what I feel for you. And I don't care what my stepsister thinks, or my stepmother, or anyone. I will not marry for fortune, nor out of obligation. I want to marry for love. And I love you, Elinor. I know my own happiness now. And in truth, I have known it for some time. It lies with you, Elinor. I love you with all my heart. I have been in love with you since... since we first met at Norland. I tried to deny it out of some misguided sense of duty or honor. But... but it would not be denied. My love for you has never wavered. And I will continue to love you until the day I die. I came here today with one errand in mind, which I will now perform. Elinor Dashwood, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

Miss Morland... don't be afraid. I promise not to oppress you with too much remorse, or too much passion. Though since you left us, the white rose bush has died of grief. Catherine, are you still a disgrace to your sex? Does your face express all that your heart feels, or may I hope that it holds a secret? You know that I do not need my father's permission to marry you."

*I'm taking the P&P ones away from you all because it is no fun when everyone votes P&P.

#Jane Austen #I am under no delusions that this might not end in a whole bunch of people voting S&S 95 because it is the one they have watched #but it will be probably less of a boring carnage still #here we go again

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storiesfromafan · 2 months ago

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Persistent - Benny Cross x Reader

A/N: this is a follow up to Drinks. Another one-shot under 1000 words. Maybe there will be another part, see how I go.

I want to thank @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler for reblogging and your comments. I woke up to them the day after I posted, and I was a giggling and smiling mess. And wanted to give you more cute and flirty haha.

Prompt: “I’m not the right person for you” “You’re doing a bad job of convincing me of that”

Tag list: @strayrockette

You had to give it to Benny, he was persistent. After making his intentions known to you, for the next week Benny made himself known in your life. You had started to see him riding around town more, like he knew where and what you were doing. Visiting the diner you worked out, and making sure you were his server.

But tonight took the cake. For Benny showed up at the movie theatre, leaning on his bike with a smoke in hand. You came walking out, arm linked with your date. A young man your mother set you up with, and you had gone out with to get her off your back. You put on a smile and talked to the man about the movie you’d just seen.

But the moment your eyes landed on Benny, well your date was completely forgotten. For mister tall drink of water, leaning against his bike and smoking a cigarette was a sight too see. And when Benny’s eyes spotted you, his eyes darkened seeing you linked arms with Stewart. With a flick of his cigarette, Benny stood up before making his way over to you.

Poor Stewart looked like he was going to piss his pants, seeing as Benny was making his way towards you. If only he knew that the Vandal was your shadow. Coming to stand before you both, Benny continued to be intimidating. Which was working.

“Evening Princess" Benny greeted with his rough voice, which sent a shiver down your spine.

“Benny" you replied, a little standoffish.

He smiled at your tone, finding it all so amusing. “Don’t ya look good tonight", he winked.

You rolled your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled at how forward you were being, no pleasantries or beating around the bush. “Thought ya might need a ride home" he replied sweetly.

Your narrower your gaze on the gorgeous Vandal. “How kind of you. But as you can see, I’m on a date. Who is perfectly capable of taking me home".

“Oh, really now?” Benny asked, turning his gaze to your date. And staring your date down. “Well, you wouldn’t mind if I took your date home, would you now?”

Stewart, God bless him, sputtered out some words. Neither you or Benny could decipher what the male had said. But with a few shakes of his hand, and the release of your arm, Stewart didn’t stick around. You don’t blame him. A Vandal can be intimidating, nor would you want to get on their bad side. So there you were, standing before Benny while your date took off with his tail between his legs.

You sighed. “Good job scaring off my date".

Benny – having been looking you up and down, admiring your dress – smirked. “He wasn’t much of a date. Not to mention ya didn’t look that into him as ya walked out of the theatre”.

He had you there, not that you want to admit it. “How I felt about my date is not the point. We were talking about you scaring him off".

“Hmm, really now?” Benny asked in amusement. “Or should ya be thankin' me from savin' ya from the square?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, popping your hip out a bit, as you gave him a pointed look. “You didn’t save me Benny. As, I myself, am a square".

The deep chuckle that left Benny, was music to your ears. “Princess, we both know ya not that much of a square".

He was right, but you’d been trying to be on your best behaviour. After your parents found out about going to Grand and Division, and being around the Vandals. Not to mention Benny’s presence this week scaring your poor mother. You might be attracted to the man before you, but you had to heed the warnings from your parents.

“I’m a square Benny. I work a stable job, wear dresses" – you ruffled your dress skirt in emphasis – “I don’t drink, or smoke, I follow the rules and I date nice, clean cut men".

Benny smirked in amusement, finding your words more a challenge than a deterrent.

You glared at his smirk. “I’m not the right person for you". A small white lie, you wanted to be the right person for him. But you had to be a good, wholesome woman.

“You’re doing a bad job of convincin' me of that" he replied staring into your eyes, his baby blues consuming you. “I take everythin’ you said as a challenge Princess, a challenge to corrupt ya".

A noise left your throat, but you were unsure if it was one of frustration or approval. You liked the idea of Benny corrupting you. In more ways than one. The man was gorgeous and you would easily give in. But you had to be strong. A Vandal man was dangerous, and trouble. Two things you didn’t need.

“Well I’m going to burst your bubble, and it’s not going to happen". With that you walked off, headed in the direction you would take home.

You couldn’t be around Benny any more. You needed to get away from his charms, before you caved, but also needed to get home. Holding your bag closer to your body, you began the walk home in your short heels, which would kill your feet by the time you get home.

Benny watched you walk away, amused and fully taken with your boldness, and sharp tongue. He would be taking this challenge seriously. He would win you, and make you his. Needing you by his side and on the back of his bike.

“Princess! Let me give ya ride home, will ya!?” He called out, which you ignored. With a groan at your stubbornness, Benny moved for his bike and to chase you down. He wouldn’t let his girl walk home alone.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader #benny the bikeriders #benny cross

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purple-writer8 · 7 months ago

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The Lakes - ACOTAR

Rhysand x Ilyrian Reader (set in Windhaven Camp when Rhysand still trained there)

“Those Windermere peaks look like the perfect place to cry. I’m setting off, but not without my muse.”

warnings: woman in ilyria, sexism, wing clipping, angst, mentions of violence

1k words

Masterlist :)

“Those peaks right there, that is where I want to go.” You told Rhysand, pointing to the tallest peak of all the snowy mountains that surrounded Windhaven. He laughed, a sweet, low rumble as he moved his fingers through your dark-as-night locks of hair.

“Those?” Rhysand cooed, looking down at you as your head rested comfortably on his lap. You nodded, “yes, Rhys. Those.”

He gazed down at you with all the love he held for you in his heart, violet eyes twinkling for you— only ever for you. “When I am High Lord, I will build you a house in those peaks… and right here too.”

You blushed at Rhysand’s words, “a house there and here? Um… what if I want to stay here in Windhaven with my brother?”

“You don’t belong here, my love, and neither do I.” His words were soft and his fingers trailed your jaw in the gentlest of manners. You agreed with him, obviously. “You’ll take me with you?” You asked him eagerly, though you knew the answer.

“I will always take you everywhere with me. Never to be left alone again, my sweet.” He answered gently, causing you to blush hard at your friend’s words.

You were Devlon’s little sister, and had known Rhysand since his arrival at Windhaven camp with his mother. You two were fast friends, always together, always around each other because neither of you ever tired of the other.

The two of you grew up together, and while Rhysand became handsome and strong, you became fair and gentle. You were now young adults, and still as close as ever.

You were a great beauty, so it was to no one’s surprise when the High Lord’s son lost his youthful appetite for fucking and only ever focused his energies on you. He was in love with you, and you were in love with him.

The two of you weren’t together yet, not officially, but you might as well be because you were inseparable. Nothing or no one could come in between the two of you. Your bond— not the mating one yet— was strong.

No, you weren’t mates, though Rhysand was sure the bond would snap any day now.

“Devlon would rather kill you then let me leave the camp,” you mused, turning your head so you could stare at the lake that glowed in front of the two of you. You had always loved the lakes that surrounded Windhaven, it was your escape from the brutality of your home.

Rhysand snarled, “he can try. I’ll melt his mind if he ever dares come in between us.” You knew he meant it.

You pressed your lips together and sat up, “not kind.”

Rhys took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, at the water, “your brother does not deserve my kindness. When I am High Lord, he will pay for this.” His fingers glided across the healed wound, where your wings had been clipped.

Your wings twitched at the gentle touch, “I forgave him, Rhysand. You need to forgive him too.”

He rolled his violet eyes. “I will never forgive Devlon for clipping your wings, nor myself for not being here… I should have known better than to leave you alone.”

You knew he blamed himself for your clipping. You were a lucky Ilyrian female, your friendship with the High Lord’s son gave you a certain type of immunity to the wing clipping. Well, you used to be lucky.

One night, a year ago, Rhysand had to leave to attend a ball in another court. He had wanted to bring you, but his father did not approve. You thought, and assured him, that nothing would happen to you. But your brother, your cruel brother, came into your hut as soon as Rhysand stepped foot outside of camp.

He didn’t come alone, no. Devlon came with four other males, they pinned you to the floor and clipped your wings— leaving them crippled for life. You were heartbroken, but you never held a grudge to Devlon— as you knew that the clipping was a centuries old tradition that would never be changed.

You just had the bad luck of being a female in Ilyria.

When Rhysand found you the next day, bleeding and crippled, he turned the camp upside down. Though at the end of the day, he couldn’t punish Devlon. His father didn’t care about Ilyrian females, and when Rhysand tried to get justice for you, the High Lord simply waved his son off.

So he promised you, and himself, that when he was High Lord— he would avenge you and your wings.

“Harboring hate in your heart is not right, Rhys.” You muttered, reaching your hand to caress his cheek in a gentle manner. He leaned into the touch, always seeking comfort in you.

Rhysand loved you so much. He could not understand how you were still so pure hearted, even after everything you had gone through in Windhaven. You were a rose, a flower, that had somehow grown in ice frozen ground.

“I may hate, but I also love.” He said softly, nuzzling his head in your neck, planting a soft kiss upon it. You knew he loves you, you knew it well, and he knew you loved him. Your love was no secret.

“Please, go live with my mother.” Rhys begged, leaving soft tender kisses all over your neck. You sighed, knowing he would bring that request up again. It was his new fixation, having you move to live with his mother and sister until he finished training.

He didn’t want you in Windhaven, you were not made to be there. His mother adored you, had watched you grow up— she would gladly foster you away from the camp, but you didn’t want to leave. You don’t want to leave Rhys behind, because you knew that it would be a while before he joined you.

“I don’t want to leave you…” He groaned at this statement. “Please… you need to be safe. This war camp is not made for you….” Rhysand pleaded, trying his hardest not to pressure you but failing, because he needed you to be safe.

You sighed. “I will go.”

Rhysand perked up. “You will?”

“Yes. But not without you.”

Author’s note:

A small blurb because i love this song and it somehow reminds me of rhysand

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria

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dwrogue · 3 months ago

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Quotes from the novelisation

So the Target novelisation is out! Highly recommend it, an extremely good time that somehow gives us a ton of backstory on Rogue while also still leaving things very open for fic.

A selection of quotes I highlighted on my way through:

The Doctor being horrendously into Rogue

The Doctor was now walking in the gardens with Rogue beside him, his new favourite brooding stranger.

He looked back at Rogue, walking, brooding (of course), and had to remind himself that this was an interrogation, not a date.

Sure, the Doctor couldn’t deny, Rogue was incredibly handsome.

The Doctor was suddenly very conscious that their hands were almost touching.

Rogue grabbed the Doctor’s arm and moved him with ease to the middle of the small metal pieces. ‘Stand there.’ The bounty hunter’s strong, the Doctor thought. Confirmed.

The Doctor could already feel people starting to turn and whisper but his focus wasn’t on that. All he was thinking about was Rogue. Rogue’s hand on his shoulder, his chest. Rogue’s eyes locked with his as the pair of them turned and twirled across the floor.

More below the cut: some of these get very spoilery including for the very end of the book, so don't click if you don't want to know.

Rogue being horrendously into the Doctor

His gorgeous brown eyes beamed up at Rogue from the middle of the crowd. For the first time in a long time, Rogue felt that jolt of electricity when you meet that person. That next person who might be the one to change your life.

the main thing that impressed him was how stylish it all was. How well placed and how welcoming. Rogue had only known the Doctor for one night, but it was clear this ship was perfectly made for the person who travelled in it.

‘I know.’ Rogue smiled at the kind, brilliant, amazing man in front of him.

Rogue felt another jolt of that electricity as their arms almost touched.

He wondered how long he would have with this new and wonderful stranger, and then also why he was troubling himself with the thought at all.

He’d not been asking the Doctor for marriage, but for some simple commitment. A sign he should stay longer than this one adventure. To see those worlds he’d promised. At least for a little while. Now he couldn’t stop wondering how much of their connection was real and how much had been for show.

Socially anxious king

It was then that Rogue emotionally left his body and started panicking a good 50 feet above the scene playing out below.

‘So, have you known the Duchess long?’ It was here that Rogue hoped the Doctor was his bounty because his small talk game was not his best quality.

Usually, the imaginary conversations Rogue had with [Art] were when he was alone in the ship but in moments of crisis sometimes, he would imagine him, a life raft in a sea of social interaction nightmares.

‘Can’t I storm off alone?’ said Rogue. ‘I would rather not talk in front of this many people.’

I had to stop and compose myself for a minute

‘Don’t blame me! De Lacaille chose them! Great astronomer, bad with names.’ Then he smiled cheekily. ‘But if it’s romance you’re after? He also named those stars there the pump, the chisel and Norma.’ Okay, he was flirting now. Ruby would be furious with him if this silly side quest was what got him killed.

‘Not what I’m after,’ replied Rogue, his tone back to matter-of-fact but his face blushing a little.

["the pump"]

Rogue had met many dreamers and magicians in his travels. It was surprising how many had bounties on their heads; he immediately recalled quite a complicated winter with Houdini.

[...WHAT. Was this the winter after the Doctor's long hot summer?? What a year Houdini had.]

On the banks of the pond, the pair of them dragged themselves out. Rogue’s shirt was stuck to his body; the Doctor’s was the same. They were both drenched through. They looked at each other and laughed. ‘Okay, Ruby was right, this is a bit Mr Darcy.’

[I know the odds of this having been filmed are almost zero, nobody's letting Jonathan risk his voice jumping into a pond in Britain at night in May, but #releasetheherroncut]

[Rogue imagines a letter in which his dead love Art gives a potential new relationship his blessing] Please give him a hug from me and do not name a child or dog in my memory when you move in together. A cactus is fine, though. [Almost put this in 'Rogue is horrendously into him' but the 'WHEN you move in together' had me putting the book down for a second. Also that Rogue is contemplating what they should or should not name their future dog OR CHILD.]

Just pure romance

[on seeing the ship] Oh, Rogue, he thought. What happened, love?

Rogue just stared in awe, taking in the Doctor, all of them. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said.

Rogue slowly opened his arms, and the Doctor fell into them and sobbed. ‘I’m sorry,’ Rogue said over and over.

Rogue looked into the Doctor’s eyes and knew that he would never stop caring. Could never stop wanting to help, to fight, to go on. That was who he was. The Doctor let go of Rogue’s hand and climbed in through the window, and Rogue did what he knew he would do for ever.

Follow him.

Then he stepped forward and wrapped the Doctor in his arms and kissed him. It was a soft, passionate kiss, full of promise. The moment was tender. Romantic. It was theirs.

As he fell, his mind had one, clear thought. Worth every second.

The Doctor just kept smiling, keeping his eyes on the sky. ‘At least we got to live and love together a bit. Exist.’

Of all the timelines they could both have inhabited, Rogue was grateful that their eyes had met on this one. What a great surprise that had been from the universe. Yes, right now, he was lonely, but time wasn’t linear, and this was his favourite thing about it. Rogue was sitting in this cave, but he was also walking with the Doctor in the garden, he was laughing with Art in the Yossarian, he was falling from a building, he was running from one memory of his life to another. All at once.

Rogue was in the Doctor’s arms, spinning around and around, for ever.

#doctor who #timerogue #target novelisation #this isn't even all of them! I keep remembering parts I missed!

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shugar0cone · 9 months ago

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“Mama y/n pt2”

I thought about the convo me and Charlie had. I looked at my husband who was cooking some elk stew (best fucking meat ever)! Don’t know if is he’ll elk or demon elk. I hugged behind him and sighed. “You know my love.” I say. “You hurt Charlie’s feeling maybe you should apologize.” Al stopped stating his stew and turned his head to me like an owl. “Apologizing would mean I’m wrong, and I’m never wrong.” I thought. “So you do view Charlie as our kid.” I say perking up at him. “Oh heavens no it was to get to her father.” I was again saddened.

I was in the shower, thinking to myself and doing my nightly routine. Alastor opened the door to do his nightly routine. I seen his shadow at the sink. “You’re a fucking dick.” I say under my breath. “Hm?” I jumped to see my husband having the curtains pulled and looking at me. “ALASTOR YOU GOTTA WARN A GIRL ITS FUCKING COLD!” I say. He then stepped in the shower with me fully clothed. Maybe if I wasn’t so pissed I’d be laughing at the situation, yes me and my husband did take showers together and yes we’ve seen each other unclothed but I was wondering why he was doing this… “darling what’s wrong.” He grabbed my cheek. “You hurt Charlie’s feelings and more then you usually do. I’m going to be honest I see her as my kid and she… she doesn’t believe me just because of you.” I crossed my arms putting them to my stomach and putting my head down. “And maybe I’m just mad at you because I have nothing else’s to blame.” I cried. “I love you Alastor but.” I can tell he tensed at but. “Ever since we died I can’t just be y/n Im known as alastors wife, radios muse. I can’t fucking have friends because they’re scared of you!” I say now sadness filling with anger. “I’m tierd of it, I want to be known as y/n again!” I grabbed his soaked shirt. Maybe he came in here like this because he knew this is how I let my emotions come out and cleanse my soul. “I fucking hate my afterlife!” My head fell on his chest. “But at the same time.” I say now hugging him. “I’m happy to be with you.” Alastor smiled. “Maybe you need to join in on Charlie’s therapy sessions.” He said kissing the top of my head. “I’m sorry I’m so bi polar.” I say wiping my tears.” “And I’m not?” He tried to make me feel better.

A/N: probably another failure of a fan fox just because of how quickly this was wrote and how lazy but hey here is another one! See you my loves <3

-Shugar

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #vaggie #fanfic

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nonotnolan · 9 months ago

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The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

----------------------------------------------

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

#male body merge #male possession #alien possession #hivemind #gay male story #queer romance

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nobody-zero3000 · 11 months ago

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Yandere Batfamily x Amidala! Reader

Inspired by the Yandere Damian Wayne x Alien Leader reader by your-regular-toast-enjoyer. But also because I like Padme Amidala and Star Wars. I want to use the Gotham Knights video game version of the Batboys, Batgirl, and Batman. Since Damian Wayne is not in there, I was thinking about Damian Wayne from the Injustice 2 video game but older. I'm going to change and add a few things from the Star Wars Universe and add a few new things to Amidala's character.

Warning: yandere, age-gap.

Earth heroes have encountered a different galactic system not far from Earth's solar system. The Justice League has made contact with a planet that's part of the galactic government system, also known as the Intergalactic United Republic, and has agreed to send someone to the planet to at least show that Earth and the Justice League offer peace.

In the watch tower, the heroes are having a meeting about who should go on this diplomatic mission. Some voted for Green Lantern, Martin Manhunter, or Superman, but the results show that the best candidate for this mission would be Batman.

Martian Manhunter was a bit disappointed because he had heard about her reputation through some holo-nets and was eager to meet her. As well as introduce her to his niece, Miss Martian since she is a fan of her work.

"Then it is settled: Batman shall be the one to go on this diplomatic mission and talk with the queen." Wonder Woman had declared.

The meeting is adjourned. Batman boomtubes back to Earth to discuss details with the rest of the Batfamily.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the Batcave, Bruce calls in Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing, Batgirl, and Red Hood.

"As you all know, I summoned you here for an important reason. I have been chosen to lead a diplomatic mission for a planet called Naboo. But I'm not planning on going alone." Bruce pulls up pictures of the planet.

"This mission has to be taken seriously and delicately. Any hostile behavior will endanger Earth along with millions of civilians. Do not show any violent or hostile behavior, and do not engage or cause any conflict that may lead to dangerous consequences. Do I make myself clear?" Giving them a stern, firm glare to each of them, especially Damian and Jason.

Jason shrugged. "Got it. No violence unless they start it first, then we consider violence."

Bruce narrows his eyes at him.

Jason puts his hands up in mocking surrender. "What? I'm kidding. No violence, don't cause trouble got it."

Tim looks at the Bat computer screen, looking through the information. He looks over to Bruce and asks, "Question. Do you have any information on the ruler of this planet? Any photos of what they look like."

Bruce pulls up photos, "These photos were taken at the Watchtower when we made contact with the planet. We are still looking into other information from J'onn and Hal's research."

It shows a female, (Y/H/C), (Y/E/C), and the areas where white makeup is not covering are your hands, which are (Y/S/C). She was sitting on a throne, dressed in royal clothes and wearing white makeup with red dots on both cheeks. She stood straight and had a blank look. But her eyes showed kindness, patience, and seriousness.

The boys and girl are taken aback by how young the female is. They were expecting someone much older. Not just that, but how beautiful you were. It was like looking at an angel. If someone were to ask about the definition of an angel, they would show them a photo of you. But for some reason, if they had a photo of you, they would not want to share it with someone else; they want to keep you to themselves.

For Bruce, it took a lot of strength and restraint to not laugh at their expression and keep a straight face. He couldn't blame them. When he first saw you, he was shocked not only to find out that someone as young as you would be ruling a planet but also by your beauty. He has seen a lot of beautiful women (Selena, Talia, Diana, Lois, etc.), but you pretty much outmatched them all as well as caught his attention and kept a hold on it.

Snapping out of it, he puts away the photo, much to the family's displeasure.

"So that's who we're all going to meet. If I had known that, I would've been more 'ready to go' for this mission." Dick grins and crosses his arms.

"She's really beautiful, and she must be very smart to rule the planet by herself," Tim said, blushing and smiling.

"Is there any more information on her?" Barbara is very curious about this young woman.

Damian finally asks, "When do we leave for this mission? Most of all, who will be watching the city while we are gone?" At this moment, he doesn't care if they leave the city unguarded, as long as they leave soon. He is curious about this alien leader.

"While we're gone, I managed to get some League members to watch the city, as well as other independent heroes to keep an eye on the crime rate. Now that is settled, all of you pack your bags. We'll be leaving in 2 hours.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Batfamily boomtubes to the Watch Tower, and from there, they enter the Javelin spacecraft (which upgraded to travel at a speed of light thanks to Hal, other Green Lanterns, and Cyborg). Once they are settled in the ship, Batman sets the coordinates for the planet Naboo, and on they go.

"Coordinates for Naboo are locked. Prepare yourselves for light speed." Everyone is strapped in. Soon the ship takes off.

After the ship comes to a stop, everyone, besides Batman who is used to space travel by now, groans from the lightspeed, some felt either really tired or sick.

Red Hood groans and hunches over. "I'm starting to regret eating that Bacon Ultra-belly combo."

"You should wait afterward, Todd. We were going to travel through space at a fast rate. What did you expect, imbecile?"

"Shut it, demon-spawn."

"Alright, that's enough, you two. We're here that's all that matters." Nightwing lightly scolded them.

Batgirl decides to get into the conversation. "Besides, what did Batman say about bad behavior."

Red Robin includes, "What part of no hostile or violent behavior are you two not getting here?"

They all start to bicker until Bruce switches to autopilot. Turns the seat around to face them. "Enough" in a firm and stern voice. Narrowing his eyes gives them his famous Batman glare.

The bickering stops, and they turn their attention to him.

"Let me make myself clear, be on your best behavior and do not start trouble. Once we land, stay close by my side. Do you understand?"

Red Robin, Nightwing, and Batgirl nod their heads. After a few moments, Red Hood and Robin show they understand by nodding their heads, too.

Batman turns back to the front window and starts to move the ship toward the planet.

Realization starts to overcome the bat family members, and they all look to the front to see the planet.

Tim and Barbara had excited expressions since they were about to visit a different planet and would meet the ruler soon. While Dick, Jason, and Damian were shocked to see the planet and about the possibility that they were about to go to a different planet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Meanwhile in the throne room of Naboo---------------------

A guard's com beeps, he answers, and a few words are exchanged. He nods and turns to the queen.

"Your Highness, the Earth's ambassador, has arrived and is now entering our planet."

"Very well, prepare refreshments and send starfighters to guide the ship to one of the land platforms."

"Yes, Your Highness." The guard leaves.

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As the Javelin enters Naboo, they are encountered by starfighters.

Batman presses a button that allows him to speak to the Starfighters. "This is Batman, Ambassador of Earth."

"Batman, this is Captain Olie; we are ordered by Queen Amidala to escort you to Theed Royal Palace. You can just follow us."

The starfighters fly ahead but not far from the Javelin. Batman starts to follow them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they fly to the palace, all of them look out their windows to look at the new environment. Tim and Barbara show excited and awe expressions. Jason and Dick are in awe too. And Damian, even though he tried not to show it, thought the planet was beautiful too and a bit excited to experience a new environment, a new planet!

Bruce had to admit it was beautiful, and it looked peaceful.

Once landing in a near landing platform, they exit the ship wearing their superhero suits. As they exit the Javelin, a handmaiden and two guards walk toward them.

"Sir Batman, Ambassador of Earth, I am here to escort you to the throne room to meet with Queen Amidala." She gestures for them to follow her.

The other bat members give each other glances. Batman just starts to walk with her as the others follow him.

They reach the throne room, and the guards open the doors for the guests. (Pretend there are more chairs.)

On the throne sat the queen of Naboo. On both sides beside her are two handmaidens in their own seats. On her left is Captain Typho.

The batboys and batgirl look at the queen in complete awe. Batman just gives a neutral expression, but on the inside, he feels different.

'She is even more beautiful in person.'

"Batman, Welcome to Naboo. I hope you managed to travel here safely with no complications."

"Queen Amidala. Thank you for inviting us to your planet and agree to meet with us."

"The Council of Naboo, Chancellor Valorum, and I have discussed and created a peace treat, but I would like to discuss it more with you."

A servant brings in a tray of refreshments. (Y/N) notices the other masked heroes.

"I see that you have brought company with you. Would all care to introduce yourselves, please?"

The others glance at each other, finally, Robin decides to introduce himself.

"Robin, I aide Batman on his missions and patrols around Gotham City. It's a great pleasure to meet you, Queen Amidala."

She nods in his direction before looking at the person next to him.

"Nightwing, protector of Bludhaven, former leader of the Teen Titans. It's very nice to meet you." He offers her a kind smile.

She nods her head and gives a small smile back, but gives a curious look. "What is a Teen Titan?"

Then shifts her gaze to the female hero.

"Batgirl, formerly known as Oracle. Thank you for inviting us here. You have a beautiful home planet!"

She gave Batgirl a grateful smile, "Thank you." Then she looked at the other male hero; he looked a bit younger than her, maybe around her age.

He shyly waves to her, "Hi, Red Robin. I also help Batman, as well as the other bat family members. Y-you have a really lovely home, you're beautiful, I-I-I mean your home is beautiful. Not saying that you're not beautiful because you are." He continues to stutter.

Robin rolls his eyes. "Smooth, Drake. Very subtle."

Queen Amidala just looks a little amused and tries not to laugh. She offers a smile and raises her hand to him, which gets to him stop. "It's alright, Red Robin. I understand, and thank you. You flattered me."

Red Robin opens his mouth but closes it and blushes.

She then looks to the last hero. He's physically well-built and has his arms crossed. She notices the blasters strapped to both sides of his legs.

"Name's Red Hood, vigilante of Gotham. And I got to say, you are way more hot in person compared to the photo that was sent to us." He complimented with a hidden smirk and gave a noticeable wink in your direction.

The handmaidens give a soft offend gasp and Captain Typho stiffens and clenches his fists.

Queen Amidala, however, is thankful the makeup covers her blush. She gave a confused look, but there was a fluttering feeling in her chest. She snaps back to reality and fixes her face into a neutral expression.

"Thank you, Red Hood. As much as I am flattered by your...compliment, we should probably go into the discussion about the treaty."

Batman, after sending a scolding glare to Red Hood (who does not show any regret about what happened but instead smugly looks to the other bat heroes who are glaring at him), looks to the queen.

"I agree; I do have a few questions and concerns."

"Of course, let us begin."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After discussing and reviewing the treaty, it was dusk. The Queen had adjourned the meeting and would talk with the Council of Naboo and Senator of Naboo tomorrow about the treat.

"I'll have some servants show you to your rooms that you will be staying in for a while. Once you have settled in, I'll have a couple of my handmaidens come to escort you to the dining room for dinner."

"Thank you, Queen Amidala." Batman gives a small bow.

Six servants show up in the throne room. Each of them escorts the heroes to the royal guest rooms. Bruce, Tim, and Barbara are neighbors; across from them are Dick, Damian, and Jason. All get comfortable with their room.

Near evening, two handmaidens come to each of their rooms to take them to the dining room, where the Queen is sitting at the end of the table waiting for them.

On the table are plates of food that seem questionable to the Batboys and Batgirls since this is their first time trying alien food. Bruce doesn't show it but even he seems to question the food but is curious to at least try some.

"Welcome, come every one, sit down. Enjoy the food."

Thinking for a moment, (Y/N) wonders if she should help them with which food is the best. After all, it is probably their first time trying food that was outside their planet.

"I would recommend the Shaak pot roast or the tip-yip but if any of you do not eat meat then I would try the Xizor salad or Aquaris Broth. Please let us know if you have any questions on the other food items."

The Batfamily sends appreciative looks toward her and starts to dish out. The servants that were about to dish out plates for them stop as they see this. They look to the queen, their expression partially asking, "What do we do?"

The queen just smiles and waves a hand to them. "It's alright. Let them dish out by themselves. It's getting late; why don't you all grab a plate and then retire for tonight or head back home to your families."

The servants smile at the queen and bow to her while both say. "Thank you, your highness."

The servants sit down and start to dish out as well.

There are different emotions running through the bat family. For all of them, there's admiration. For a few, there's surprise, confusion, and approval.

One who was most confused was Damian. It wasn't normal for the young adult to see a royal figure treating their servants like they were their equals.

His taught by his grandfather and mother that as royal figures, they are superior and therefore do not see non-royal figures, servants to be exact, as their equals.

But the more he thought of it, the more he started to admire the young ruler. This action showed that she was kind, generous, and fair. It made her even more beautiful.

They just eat their food for a while until one of the heroes decides to ask a couple of questions.

"So, what is it like being a queen? And how did you get the throne early? It just...you seem rather young...not that is a bad thing, but wouldn't your parents still be the ones running the throne?" Red Robin had asked.

Red Hood was about to scold him for asking those questions in the middle of dinner but stopped because he was curious, too. He wanted to know more about his sweetheart, about her.

The other masked vigilantes were curious as well.

(Y/N) stop mid-bite and set her spoon down in the bowl.

"Being queen can have hardships, but it can also be rewarding. I serve my people, and I do what is best for them. I've got to meet many different people and make connections and friendships with a few of them. As for how I got the throne, I wasn't born of royalty blood but rather I was elected by the people of Naboo. As for my parents, my father is an excellent builder, educator, and relief worker, while my mother voluntarily works in a variety of social services roles helping the underprivileged. I would sometimes go with my father to his relief missions to aid other people on different planets. It's what encouraged me to pursue this role."

Tim listens closely and pays full attention to her. He's actually surprised but amazed about her being elected for this role.

"Wow!...you must be very intelligent to have gotten such a role. It's amazing, and from the sound of it, you like to serve. Where did you go to school? Is there a specific school you have to go to? Different programs? It's amazing some your age could do this! I mean of course, I'm around you as well,...possibly. I mean I not old..not that I'm saying your old! Because you're not. You are young. Look young. B-beautiful, k-kind, and generous, and fair, amazing.

"Calm down there, Red Robin. I think she gets the point." Nightwing said.

"Stop. You're embarrassing yourself and us, for that matter." Robin said to him in a blank and annoyed tone.

(Y/N) just looks on in amusement and covers her mouth a little with her right hand but cannot control the small giggle that escapes past her lips. Even her servants find this amusing but manage to keep themselves from laughing at this event happening before them.

The Batmembers stop talking and freeze as they listen to her laugh. They thought it was a very nice laugh and couldn't help but smile. (Bruce and Damian gave small smiles, of course. But it is still a smile.)

Once (Y/N) got control of herself, she stopped giggling but still had a content smile on her face. She actually felt grateful for the young hero, it's been a while since she had even laughed.

"Thank you, Red Robin. You still continue to flatter me, and it's been a while since I laughed. You are one of a kind."

Red Robin couldn't stop the large grin growing on his face. He ducked his head and looked away, trying to hide his blushed face.

Unnoticed by the young queen, Nightwing, Red Hood, and Robin try but fail to hide their envious expressions. While both Batgirl and Batman look a bit amused but also a bit jealous.

"Who does he think he is, making my beloved her laugh like that?"

"I could have found a way to make her laugh. I have great charm, too."

"I compliment her and get a negative reaction. But when he does it, they find it amusing and harmless. Back off, Tim."

"She has an adorable laugh. But, ugh!...serious, how does Tim do it?"

Bruce felt amused, but he felt something else that made him frown at the same time. He can't help but stiffen a bit. Now, he feels disgusted with himself and scolds himself.

"I should not feel this way. It's wrong. Disgusting. She is around Jason's age.

Bruce lightly shakes his head a bit.

" It's nothing. It will go away. Right?"

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year ago

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proud mary // han lue

summary: now living a quiet life with their daughter, han and y/n reflect on how they got there, and all the good moments that are still yet to come.

pairing: han lue x wife! reader

warnings: this is a big one so listen up: mentions of post pregnancy mental illness, mentions of pregnancy and starting a a family, weddings, ignoring tokyo drift canon because I fucking can, (actually I ignored a lot of canon) han is about to activate a shit ton of daddy issues

I left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day and I never lost one minute of sleeping, I was worrying 'bout the way the things might've been.

big wheel keeps on turning, proud mary keeps on burning. and we’re rolling, rolling, rolling down the river

2009, tokyo, japan.

the garage was dark, lit only by the moonlight and the small lamps atop the workstations. han lue had closed up hours ago, and everyone was gone save for him and his lover.

“han, what are you doing?” y/n laughed, sitting at a table scattered with nail polish bottles and a shellac brisa light. “it looks like a smudge.”

“it’s a drifting car!” han laughed, staring through the large magnifying glass that was allowing him to see the design he was attempting to paint on his lovers thumbnail. “see, there’s the spoiler and those are the headlights!”

friday night manicures had become somewhat of a tradition. y/n hated painting her nails with her non dominant hand, but she also didn’t speak enough japanese to venture out and get her nails professionally done. when she and han started dating, he offered to do it for her, easing the aggravation that sometimes came with doing mail designs yourself.

“well, now that you’ve pointed it out.” she laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

they had been together coming up on two years. two long, wonderful years. she was a mechanic and he was drifter, it was almost meant to be. she stopped him from getting himself killed, and in return, he loved her unconditionally.

they were sympatico like that. she loved his sense of humour, his protectiveness. he loved her smarts and the excited way she talked, animatedly and with hand gestures.

“what do you say we get out of japan for a bit?”

han should have known this question was coming. y/n was a restless spirit, never meant to stay in one place for too long. in a way, han was as well. he could tell that his lover had been more restless than usual, either from missing home or needing a change of scenery.

“a friend of mine, his name is dominic torretto, he’s got this place down in the dominican republic.” han started slowly, unsure of how much he wanted to involved her in. y/n was his whole world, and what dom and mia would be running was far bigger than street racing in shibuya.“he called me the other day wondering if I would run a job with him. but it’s not entirely legal and I don’t blame you if you don’t want any part in it.”

“baby,” she frowned, placing her hand inside the blue light machine. “of course I’ll go with you. I never pass up a chance to go somewhere sunny, and you know that I’d go anywhere with you. what we’re running here with twinkie and sean isn’t exactly legal either, you know. I’m a big girl, seoul-oh. I can handle myself.”

“I know. I just want you to know what you’re getting into. you’re important to me, y/n.”

“I know.” she said softly, running her hand up his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder, gently kissing his neck. “so when does our flight leave?”

“whenever you want it to. I haven’t even bought the tickets yet. are you ready for an adventure?”

“fuck yeah.” y/n smiled, pressing her lips to his. “but you have to paint my other nails first.”

han laughed, the kind of laugh that would always set loose the butterflies in y/n’s chest, the kind that reminded her why she fell in love with him in the first place.

“I don’t think I have it in me to paint another drifting car.”

“then what are you going to paint on my thumbnail?” y/n laughed back, looking down at her nails and realizing that her lover had actually done a very good job painting a drifting car manicure.

“I don’t know,” han shrugged. he would deny it if asked, but he actually loved painting y/n’s nails. he thought it brought them closer together, built up intimacy in their relationship.

they were moments he wouldn’t trade for the world.

“I’ll just do like a checkered flag or something.”

“but you did that on my index finger!”

laughing, y/n turned her head to kiss him. “come on, you big dork. the sooner we get my nails done, she sooner I can model that new lingerie set I bought last weekend.”

“sold!” han laughed, knocking over bottles of gel polish as he searched for the bright pink he had used to paint the car on his girlfriends other hand. “drifting car? f1 car? whatever my gorgeous gorgeous girl wants.”

“I love you, han lue.”

“love you more, pretty girl.”

2010, monte carlo, monaco.

it was set up to be another sleepless night without her lover by her side, and y/n was having none of that as she wandered the deck of the comfortable yacht, looking around at the decorations that the crew had spent the day putting up.

she was just praying that it wasn’t going to rain.

nothing was about to spoil her big day.

she scurried below deck, past a half open door through which she could hear roman pearce’s guttural snores. fingers curled around the door knob, she tried not to make any noise as she eased the door open, slipping into the cabin.

“you couldn’t sleep either?” she laughed, looking at the king size bed where her fiancé lay, phone in his hands as he texted his mother, who the crew was picking up in the harbour in the morning before the ceremony began.

“got a lot on my mind.” han shrugged. “fucking tej won’t shut up about the reception and the playlist and I’ve told him a million times that it’s not going to be some crazy rave kinda thing.” the man sat up, gesturing for his soon-to-be wife to come closer. "it's doing my head in. seriously, he wants to do a club mix of 'i would do anything for love'."

y/n snorted. han thought she looked like an angel in the low cabin light, a halo glowing around her head and shining off her white silk pajamas, the ones with the tiny shorts and 'bride' embroidered on the butt. "how the fuck do you turn the best meat loaf song in existence into a club rave song?"

"the fuck if i know." han shook his head, hands sliding up her thighs as she came to stand in between his legs. "jagi, sarang-hae."

honey, i love you.

"mhm." she hummed, a smile on her lips as she leaned down to kiss him sweetly. "i love it when you speak korean. it's so fucking sexy."

the last year had been stressful. the dominican job had been way more complex than y/n had expected, and it took a while for han's old crew to warm up to her. it took a while, but eventually she managed to crack dom toretto, and two weeks later, han got down on one knee and asked y/n to marry him.

hence why they were on a yacht off the coast of monaco, the entire thing decked out in fairly lights and tulle.

"if you think tej is bad, you try getting in between letty and those large plastic ribbons on the back of the deck chairs." y/n laughed. "who knew letty ortiz was so serious about weddings?"

she was practically sitting on his lap now, head resting comfortably on his shoulder as the boat rocked back and forth.

han seoul-oh was her home. her safe harbour. she always felt safe in his arms, at his side, even when they were plunging into almost certain danger like they had in the dominican.

"i brought you something." y/n hummed, reaching into the pockets of her shorts and withdrawing the small cardboard packet.

"fake nails?"

"help me put them on? for old time's sake." she passed him the glittery white french tips, no doubt chosen to match her dress for the ceremony tomorrow.

"i can't wait to spend my life with you. and believe me, there will be plenty more manicure mondays."

2014, monterrey, california.

"daddy, where's mommy?"

"i don't think she's feeling well, poppy." han lue frowned, looking over at his daughter, who was perched in her little kiddie chair at the kitchen table. "i'm going to go check on her, okay? stay right here."

how do you explain depression to an infant? poppy jae-i han had been one of the best things to have ever happened to han seoul-oh. but in the almost twenty-four months since their bundle of joy had been born, something had felt off about his wife.

everyone hears about the mental health complications that can come with childbirth, but no mother ever thinks it would be her.

every husband fears it, too.

"y/n, jagi?" han tried to keep his voice level as he eased open the bedroom door. the couple had bought a ranch house in monterrey when they learned they were expecting. it was one of the few things they used their ill-gotten gains as a part of dom's crew for. "poppy's asking for you."

it broke his heart to see his wife like this, hair messed and greasy, red splotches under her eyes from where she had been crying.

"am i a bad mother, seoul-oh?" she asked, voice small. she seemed so tiny and fragile underneath the layers of blankets on the queen bed. "she always seems to cry when i'm around, but never with you. poppy loves you more than she loves me."

"what?" it was all han could do to stop himself from crying as he sat on the bed, gently running his fingers through y/n's hair. "sweetheart, what's brought this on? poppy loves you. you're her mom. she needs you."

"mia makes it look so easy." y/n sniffled, pulling herself up to a sitting position. she's lost weight. not a noticeable amount, or even an unhealthy one, but enough that her husband knows. there are many things that you can hide from the man you share your bed with, but han knows. he knows she's not doing well. "and i'm fucking shit at it, han."

"look at me, pretty girl." han encouraged, reaching for her hands. "you are such a good mother. i know you're struggling right now, and i know you're hurting but you need to know that poppy loves you so much. she was asking about you over breakfast, you know."

"i don't know who i am any more. i've lost my sense of self."

han frowned, brushing a few strands of greasy hair away from her forehead before leaning down and gently kissing her hairline.

"listen, i was talking to brian last night-"

"of course you were fucking talking to brian."

"-and he thinks you should talk to mia. they're passing through town today on their way back from dom and letty's, brian and i are going to take the kids out to the zoo or whatever, and you and mia should do something." he suggested, running his hand comfortingly up and down his lover's back. "go to the mall, get a coffee. i think she could really help you. she's been through this before."

y/n inhaled shakily, pulling away from han. "what if something happens to poppy and i'm not there?"

"y/n, everything is going to be okay. i promise. brian will be there, the kids will be in great hands. go do something with mia, darling. find yourself again, yeah?"

"okay." y/n nodded, still clutching his hand like it was her lifeline. "i can do that."

"mommy?" a small voice called. poppy had managed to get herself all the way from the kitchen to the master bedroom, where han had left the door ajar just in case poppy needed them. "are you okay?"

"oh, sweetheart, come here." y/n said, tears beginning to fall.

because how could she ever think that her little bundle of joy didn't love her as much as she did? poppy waddled over to the bed, and han hefted the toddler onto the mattress so that y/n could pull her close.

"you know that mummy loves you, right?"

"yes. i love you too, mommy."

"see." han smiled. "you're going to be okay. we're going to get through this."

2017, monterrey, california.

"i genuinely can't comprehend that roman pearce is getting married."

the family of three was walking down the nail care aisle at walmart, a welcome addition to their weekly shopping trip as y/n scanned the packages on the rack for a set of acrylic nails.

han laughed, one hand around his wife's waist and his chin on her shoulder as he leaned against the shopping cart. "it's not going to last. they may be getting married on saturday but i bet that by christmas roman is going to call and tell us she asked for a divorce."

"don't be so cynical." y/n laughed, kissing her husband softly before holding up a small white box. "do these go with my dress?"

"they'll go with anything, babe." han said, moving to whisper in her ear “they'd look even better wrapped around my c-"

"i want nails like mom's!" poppy han's shout cut him off, the little girl looking at the array of disney princess nails on the lower shelves.

laughing, han knelt down next his daughter, one hand on her shoulder. "which one do you want, princess? do you want frozen, tinker bell? mulan?"

"i want the ariel ones." poppy smiled, reaching for the pack of little mermaid nails. han helped her get them off the hook before lifting her up, carrying the six year old securely against his chest.

"seoul-oh, she's like six, you're spoiling her by carrying her all the time." y/n laughed, dropping both packs of nails in the cart.

"what, she's not heavy, sweetheart." han grins. "besides, i have to stay in shape somehow."

y/n rolls her eyes. "sweetie, it's bold of you to assume that you were ever in shape. but i loved you anyways, didn't i?"

back at home, they settled in the living room, near the large bay window. y/n watched contentedly from the kitchen as han sat at the coffee table across from poppy, delicately brushing nail glue across his daughter's tiny nails, dropping the glittery little mermaid nails on top.

it had taken a while to get to this peaceful, quiet part of their life, but y/n han was so glad that they had made it. that she had seoul-oh and that she had little poppy.

"be careful with your nails, they might come off. now, go get your homework done before we make the pizza, okay?"

poppy scurried off down the hall to her room, and y/n padded across the shag carpet, looping her arms around her husbands neck as she gave him a kiss.

"i'm so lucky, you know that. i'm happy and healthy again, and i have you and poppy. that's everything i could ever ask for." she said softly, resting her head against han's chest as the man tilted his head down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

of course they both missed the good old days. the days of adrenaline and adventure. but brian and mia had left, and then y/n and han, and soon after was letty and dom. they were moving on with their lives, a chapter of glitz and glamour coming to a close.

"i want another one."

y/n froze, pulling back from her husband. "what?"

"i want another baby. and i know what we went through last time, and i fully understand if you're not willing to take that chance again, but god, y/n, i want a big family with you." han explained, holding his wife's hands. "poppy is growing up. soon she's going to be too cool for dear old dad. and then there will be boys-"

"or she'll be like you," y/n cuts him off with a laugh. "in which case there will be lots and lots of girls."

"god help us all. my little girl is going to break a lot of hearts one day."

"and you want another one?"

"honestly? yeah, i do."

"then i guess we'd better start trying. multiplication isn't that hard, so poppy's gonna be looking for us within the next hour." y/n hummed, kissing her lover softly.

han smiled against her lips, hands slipping into her jeans pockets to cop a feel of his wife's ass. "i only need half that."

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@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @mignonricciardo @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @monzabee @scuderiamh @daydreamingleclerc @diorleclerc @oconso @cl16version

#han lue x reader #han seoul oh x reader #han seoul oh #fast and the furious x reader #fast and the furious #tina: the series by lovelytsunoda #han x reader #han lue #sung kang #Spotify

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