#after she very openly said that she didn’t think she’d see anything near that kind of mainstream success after she turned 30

[cozy-the-overlord]

Anti-Hero passing Blank Space as Taylor’s longest running number one single makes me so happy

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 10: Distance

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Man, the vibe between these two fine men is so different. I'm so into it! ALSO have some exciting stuff coming. Gonna try to update both days this weekend, and then setup some... very spicy/fun/dangerous romance stuff? Might add in some "choose your own adventure" style choices before we get to that big choice Lol. ENJOY! Much love.

Part 9 Part 11 Chapter Index

You rested on your side with your head in Kung Lao’s lap, a decision that you’d had no part in making. He held your hand while the monks tended to the wound on your side. You’d pulled more of your stitches than you’d noticed when you and Liu Kang had stopped to examine your wound. You could hear him saying he told you so in your head. You owed him an apology, you supposed. Kung Lao’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand and you were momentarily distracted from the rest of night.

Your exceptionally long awful horrible and terribly confusing but also kind of wonderful night. What a whirlwind.

The way that the monks fretted over you was embarrassing. It had done nothing to ease Kung Lao’s obvious guilt. You were fine! They’d been practicing and it had been an accident. Besides that, you’d had fun with him. You hadn’t wanted him to go easy on you and he hadn’t. You were grateful. Would he ever trust himself in a fight against you again?

After a lengthy discussion out of earshot the monks decided to cauterize the wound to prevent further bleeding since you didn’t seem to be clotting properly on your own. You’d agreed when it had been presented as the only option just to feel like you’d had some say in it. Liu Kang had done the same for your arm the other day and you wished he were there to do it this time too. You’d been spoiled by his magic in comparison.

They’d hooked you up to an IV of fluids to help you recover from the blood loss and set upon the task. It was a painful and miserable process that crippled you from the onset. Kung Lao stroked your hair soothingly and urged you to squeeze his hand. You weren’t sure if he was helping or not, but it was sweet of him to try.

Once the agonizing process ended, the monks suggested you stay for a while so they could keep an eye on you. While they cared for you on and off, Kung Lao talked. He was good at that. He comforted you with distraction and told terrible jokes to try and make you laugh. Eventually silence had fallen, and he had taken to running his fingers through your hair with his eyes closed.

From the way the monks spoke, morning was fast approaching. You hadn’t felt so exhausted and afraid to sleep in years. If everything hadn’t been such a mess, then you would have been impressed. As time passed the pain faded to a near memory. It was only then that you realized that you hadn’t spoken a single word since you’d agreed to have your wound cauterized.

“You don’t have to stay.” If Kung Lao needed you to absolve him of guilt, then you would gladly do so.

“I’m staying.”

“It’s been a long night, Kung Lao. You need rest too.”

“I’m not leaving until you can.”

“You don’t owe me this, Kung Lao. This isn’t your fault.” You turned so that you were rested on your back and Kung Lao helped you settle against his legs. Of all the places you thought you’d end up, head rested in Kung Lao’s lap was not one of them. Boy, you could use a drink.

“Then whose fault is it, exactly? Yours?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know that it’s not my fault, Y/N.”

“Could you tell that to your face?” You reached to poke the underside of his chin. He smiled, as if relieved to see you joking with him again.

“I’m staying. And I’ll make sure you get back to your room.” He poked you right in the chest.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is that I am being perfectly charming and on my best behavior and you’re arguing with me all while using me as a pillow without so much as a thank you. You can’t just use me, Y/N.” He said it in that boyish way, as though he was teasing you for having a crush on him. You definitely had had a crush on him when you were a kid. You didn’t know what you felt about anything anymore.

You laughed and swatted at his hand that rested on your shoulder. It hurt to laugh. “I could be here for a long time. You’re better off not waiting for me. Presumably, you have things to do today and probably got an hour of sleep at most.”

“Well, you’re lucky that I’m curious to see how long it takes before my legs go numb beneath your dainty little head.” He patted your shoulder and so you reached to pat his hand. Just as when you’d been kids there was no arguing with him. He would do what he wanted to do and there was no stopping him no matter how idiotic it was.

“Well, if I fall asleep and drool on you then that’s your fault.”

“I’ve come to terms with this disgusting sounding fate, Y/N. You’ll just owe me.”

“I will not be in your debt, Kung Lao.”

“You already are. I saved you from that fire, remember?”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you were keeping tabs!” You closed your eyes.

“I never forget, Y/N.” He whispered, picking up your hand and tracing lines along your palm with his index finger. He then regaled you with a tale of a time where he’d run an errand for Raiden and had dislocated his shoulder, tried to pop it back into place and had done a piss poor job of it. You cringed the whole time, but he had been delighted in disgusting you without you being able to escape. His voice droned on and you almost fell asleep.

Thankfully, a monk came over to you and asked you to sit up. Kung Lao, without being asked, helped you upright. It was remarkable how comfortable he was with touching you. Chen, the monk, was one of the few who you had formed a bond with during your stay in the infirmary. She’d taken to teasing you about your close friendship with Liu Kang and from the look in your eyes, you were certain this moment was only going to make that teasing far worse. You could see it in Chen’s dark eyes. It was coming.

Chen tested your reflexes, took your pulse, and checked on your wound before removing the IV and wrapping the wound tightly. “Alright, Y/N. Everything looks okay. No more bleeding and you’ve finally got some color back. Promise me that you’ll rest. And that you’ll stop bleeding all over our temple?”

“Listen, I didn’t try to bleed on anything!” You assured your friend who looked at you as if to say that was a lie and that if she saw you in the infirmary for a new wound by the end of the day then you wouldn’t hear the end of it. You avoided eye contact. “I’ll rest. I promise.”

Getting to your feet, Kung Lao joined you and offered you an arm to steady you. You swatted it, blushed, and then walked on your own out of the infirmary. Kung Lao’s eyes were on you as you went and then he followed behind you.

“Hey, you’ve got enough color back to blush again. That’s a good sign.” He leaned close enough to your cheek for you to feel his breath and you swatted at him again. For someone you hadn’t seen for years he certainly was comfortable being in your personal space.

“I’m not blushing. And I was fine, even before.”

“Is it so hard to admit that I make you blush a little?” He teased. “And you were definitely not fine. No one’s going to believe you when you say that if you keep lying.”

“I wasn’t lying!”

“It’s okay to be honest about your feelings, Y/N. All of them. Really.” He stopped in front of you, and you stumbled to a stop before him, having to place a hand against his chest to steady yourself. You took a step back and he tilted his head confidently, giving you that smirk that could melt pretty much any heart, you were sure.

“Kung Lao, really?” You rolled your eyes at him, but your heart was definitely fluttering in your chest, betraying you. “Look, I’m going back to my room now. You can go do… whatever it is you do around here, Lao.”

“Right now, I happen to be walking you back to your room.” He shrugged. “Are you feeling weak, Y/N? Do you need me to carry you?” If he hadn’t said it in such a teasing and taunting sort of way, then you probably would have considered it. Your face was hot with embarrassment. He grinned in delight, proud to have thrown you off.

“I think you’re overtired, Kung Lao. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” If he was going to tease you, then you would tease him right back. It was only fair, after all. You stepped a bit closer to him and he cocked a curious eyebrow. You tilted your head back as you drew closer and made to touch his chest but then pulled your hand back at the last second. He was very still. “I can walk just fine.”

You then stepped around him and continued down the hall. He turned to watch you walk away, and your face burned but you talked yourself down quickly. Then he hurried his pace to catch up with you and joined you in your walk. It was quiet after that for the most part, as if you both had plenty to think about. You were tired. Drop dead tired. Even so, you felt far more stable on your feet than you had the rest of that night. The quiet gave you time to think, which you weren’t sure you liked or not. You had way too much to think about.

When you made it to your room, you pushed open the door and thought your bed had never looked more inviting. It wasn’t even a particularly comfortable bed, but you were still looking forward to flopping into it. You turned to find that Kung Lao remained in your doorway, resting against the frame with his arms folded over his chest, admiring you with a smile. He did that a lot- openly admired you. You were going to have to find a way to cope with all this damn blushing.

“You’re up for me staying a bit, right?”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Just a little bit.” Kung Lao walked past you anyway, and you sighed and closed the door behind him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him there it was just that you also really wanted to sleep. Sunlight was peaking over the mountains on the other side of the ravine. Kung Lao dragged the chair from your desk and sat backwards on it. You sat on your bed and held your hand over the gauze on your side. It had a solid heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Kung Lao fiddled with things on your desk, picking up the journal that you and Liu Kang had been working in.

He flipped through the pages and you thought he looked a little sad, but as quickly as you had thought it, it was gone, and he looked bored. He closed the journal and then waved it toward you. “I thought that Liu Kang was just trying to flirt with you when he said study because that’s what I would have done. But you guys really study, huh? Your handwriting is awful by the way, especially for someone with ink arcana.”

“You’re less funny than you think you are. But yes, we actually study.” You were never sure what to do with the offhand flirtatious comments but teasing him in return seemed like the way the go. “You probably don’t remember this since we weren’t in the same class and I was kicked out of school before we got close but… I’m passionate about learning new things. Liu is an excellent and curious teacher. It’s been really nice.” You smiled in memory. It felt like it had been ages since they’d studied, and you missed it. “We’ve grown pretty close since you’ve been gone. I’m grateful to him.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He didn’t even try to hide how he rolled his eyes and you scoffed in disbelief and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Liu Kang is a good friend to have. And so are you when you’re not being defensive.” He stood up and dragged the chair closer to the bed then sat back down. He kicked off his shoes and then placed his feet on the bed. You stared at them disapprovingly and he purposely moved them, so his legs were rested just next to yours, barely not touching you. “It was a lie, you know.”

“Huh? What was? Something Liu said or…?”

“No, definitely not. Liu is an atrocious liar. Me on the other hand? Practiced liar. So yeah, it was me. I lied to you.” He shrugged and then rested his folded arms behind his head. He was avoiding your eyes, something he seemed to do when he felt guilty. When he noticed you looking, he tilted his head, so the hat obstructed your view of his eyes. That was still extremely attractive. “When you first woke up after the fire, I told you that I would visit town because I had become fond of your dojo and your store. That it was a beacon of peace.”

“And that’s a lie? Why would you like about something so trivial?”

“You don’t need to know the reasons.” He shrugged and tilted his gaze back to you. His smile was confident, but his eyes commanded all your attention. They went from playful to serious so quickly it was giving you whiplash. You suddenly felt as if your tongue was blocking your throat and your brain went blank. All that was left to focus on was Kung Lao. “I came to see you.” He pulled his legs back from the bed and leaned closer in his chair, studying your response. It seemed like a harmless lie so why was he telling you this now? “I didn’t know that you were my Y/N but I was still drawn to you. Watching you was what brought me peace when often I struggled finding any.”

“Kung Lao…” This felt like a confession, but what the confession was he hadn’t said. They had a thousand things to talk about and this was where he started? Not the visions? Not the ink? No, his inner turmoil and the peace that you had brought him without knowing.

“If I had known that you were my Y/N then I would have been far more forward with you than I was.” He pulled off his hat and set it next to you on the bed, then rested his hands on either side of the bed next to you. You couldn’t remember him ever flirting with you back then, but you had seen many faces and most of his visits were a blur. You remembered him as harmless and thoughtful. Those were fond memories. You smiled and averted your eyes. “No? Too much?” He smiled that confident smile even against your silence.

“I’m thinking.” You laughed.

“Guy puts it out there and you just stare…”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say, Kung Lao.”

“Anything would do.”

“You’re very sweet.”

“Ouch.”

“No! No, don’t be like that, Kung Lao.” You laughed and without realizing you’d unconsciously moved closer to him. “Really, I didn’t even consider who you could be back then. You were a strange fellow from out of town who enjoyed sitting in the peace of my dad’s place. Honestly, that feels like a different life now.”

“So, where’s the but?”

“There is none.” You furrowed your brow and his thumb overlapped yours on the bed. “This is a lot, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He considered, but he was studying you, and it made you incredibly uncomfortable. This way his eyes looked you over from head to toe, not to objectify you entirely, but rather to try and gauge what you were really thinking and what happened beyond what you told him. While your eyes apparently spoke in novels to Liu Kang, Kung Lao read your body language like a book you had forbidden him to read. Never in a million years did you think that you’d be in a dilemma where your heart was torn between two men. You’d been in relationships before but most of them had been with men from out of town who you rarely saw and had been short lived. Most of the people living in your hometown that were your age were still afraid of you.

“I don’t know what to say.” You finally decided.

“Because of Liu?”

“Well, I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to say. You say a lot without saying much at all, Kung Lao. I will admit that I think of Liu Kang very fondly. Yet, it is a very strange and emotional thing to see you again after thinking that you were dead- something I would like to talk about eventually, by the way.”

“That’s less important than this right now.” He tapped the bed and spoke very quietly, and you watched his lips form every word.

“I feel selfish, Kung Lao.”

“We are allowed to be selfish at times. You were like that as a kid too. Have some fun with me, Y/N.”

“Wow.” You laughed and as he went to say something else, you pulled your hand back from where his thumb had hooked over yours. His eyes were like big puppy dog eyes. He gave you the shivers and it took everything inside of you not to shake with them.

“Come on. You like me.” He teased.

“Kung Lao, now is not…”

“If this is because of Liu Kang? Trust me, I can change your mind.”

“No, I… excuse me?”

“You were going to say something. Continue.” He leaned just enough back to let you breathe. You were so confused. What did he even mean? You had to think about it. You had to think about a lot of things. He and Liu Kang were family. You didn’t want them to fight because of you. You would sooner turn away from them both. Then there was the nagging truth of everything else.

“I’m afraid.” You confessed and as the words came out, you felt a sudden great weight on your shoulders. “For the first time in so long, I’m afraid. Since back then, Kung Lao.”

“I know you saw things then.” He moistened his lips with his tongue and his lips remained parted for just one second before he sighed and seemed to reconsider. “I asked you if you were a witch once and you got all annoyed at me.”

“In my defense, the other kids called me that and threw shit at me, Kung Lao. I was afraid that I was a witch. That I’d never be normal. Then you died and I grew out of it. Now here you are and here I am and all the things I lost as a kid are back. And I attacked Liu Kang without knowing. I don’t know what to think and then you being so forward and Liu being like he is… I’m overwhelmed. I keep thinking that maybe this is what I’m meant for.”

Kung Lao’s whole demeanor changed from flirtatious to serious and you were grateful for him listening. You hadn’t meant to say all that you’d said. It’d just come out. “No, Y/N. You’re a fighter. I know you are. I always knew that you were even back then. And I knew what was happening to you as a kid, too. Or I guessed it at least. I always thought that it made you even more special. Normal is overrated.” Kung Lao placed a hand to your lips to stop you from talking but quickly pulled it back. “Liu’s tough. I’m sure he was fine. And so am I. We can handle whatever you throw at us, knowing or not. I’m sure he’s up to the challenge.”

“Lao…”

“I will help you fight. I won’t watch you waste away here speaking in nothing but the future.” He placed his hands on either side of you again. “And I’m sorry about your side. I know it was an accident but I’m still sorry for the trouble it caused you.”

“I’m not. I wanted to fight. I didn’t want you to go easy on me. I had fun. I had so much fun, and it was nice not to be treated like something frail.”

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” He picked up your hand and brought the back of it to his lips where he made very purposeful eye contact with you and placed a soft kiss upon it. Words were lost to you again. He pulled your hand back from his lips but didn’t let go of it. “Do you remember when we were kids and would pretend that we were like those martial artists in the movies your grandma had? I may have been reliving those days a little when we fought. Except we both knew what we were doing and could have given those actors a run for their money.” His attention was paid mostly to your hand and his thumb brushed over the back of it. “You’re still so pale. Even after everything. You weren’t before we fought.”

“Maybe I always will be now.” You finally managed to say something, but it wasn’t any of the things you wanted to say either. That crush you’d had on him as a kid was rearing its ugly head again. It had been the silliest crush. You’d both been so young and understood so little of the truth of life but there it was. You’d credited that memory of him to ruining every relationship you’d ever had. No one could ever be Kung Lao. But there he was. Alive and the memory of his lips against the back of your hand at the forefront of your thoughts.

“Don’t resign to a fate of serving others, Y/N. You’re made for more than that.”

“I’m not resigning to anything but I’m not a fool.”

“Just don’t give up.”

“I’m not. I didn’t mean to sound like I was. Honestly, that all came out of me without meaning to.”

“Like you said: this is overwhelming.” Kung Lao released your hand and with that seemed to release the hold he had over you too. “I should let you rest, Y/N. For now.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” You managed to joke at last and scooted back onto the bed. Kung Lao stood, replaced your chair, and then offered you a short bow.

“Get some rest because the next time I see you, I’m not holding anything back.”

“You’re so much trouble, Kung Lao.”

“You’re welcome.” He left without another word, closing your door behind him. You sunk back into the bed and pulled the blankets over your head with a whine. You were never going to sleep again at this rate. Liu Kang and the wild fiery tension he brought with him and Kung Lao with his nostalgia, teasing you and dripping in romance. You supposed that of all the problems you had, those two were at least fun problems to have even if you swore that they were going to send you into cardiac arrest. You drifted to sleep, more mixed up than you had ever been.

[janedoe-eyes]

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 -  I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while  she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered  this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked  to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received  another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her  with  concern. Marinette  smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik -  just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught  the plate  for a  second time when  a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your  little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming  suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows  the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop  in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude  comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled  in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled  together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck  her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

*******************************************************************************

Turns out -  easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by  a man a few years older than him who looked as if  death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it  be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile  strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to  moving  over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted  to go over and demand to know what he could  possibly say   having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’,  and ‘Damian’. She walked  up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

*******************************************************************************************

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it  off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

*******************************************************************************************

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who  had recently left a warehouse that  belonged to  the Penguin. Red Hood stationed  across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable  fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks  your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s  my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried  to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed  kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had  versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the  Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found  an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A  familiar itch on the back of his neck told  him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance.  A dented trash lid resting nearby.  The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped  a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and  sidestepped  the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a  spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have  one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell  from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered  his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning  sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for  it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished  with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared   where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled  over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight  and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are  a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette withdrew following  the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The  Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled  her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook  his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember  Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

*******************************************************************************************

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid  over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming  in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached  to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood  and looked  around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came  from, Marinette stopped  short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw  her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk  to  a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone  young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely  glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait  for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased  once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped  up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest  after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

*******************************************************************************************

That night, Marinette seriously considered  donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had  lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for  a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense  - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help  watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over  years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she’d glared  at in passing for weeks.

Marinette  took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked  the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it  - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive  here?! What names did the barista say  at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush  ahead after the warning Plagg gave  - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The  man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette  whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he  let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said,  nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in  another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when  I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging  a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned  to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing  to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet  and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve  the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might  still be  time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed  to snuggle  the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound  as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and  I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from  the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

*******************************************************************************************

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what  happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger  knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked  in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered  at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all  wary of her but eventually  eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

*******************************************************************************************

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located  on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on  every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting  a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled  on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on  the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held  her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French  how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned  what  transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of  the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once  entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some  all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized  everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he  slumped down,  head in his hands,  absorbing  the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find  her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable  ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing  his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii  of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled  her  expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re  a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed  before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed  from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned  to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely  inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is  gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see  you do. You’ve  endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He  needed more practice at  learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build  a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run  the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve  his Father and siblings  - they’d know how to execute a plan  - but he felt it had to come  at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts  in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

*******************************************************************************************

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell  in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which  opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team -  especially Robin, who became  her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people  from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the  Ladybug miraculous  traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it  remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag  a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others  commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance  took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news,  the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was  in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got  along even better than  their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting  smile, she quickly gained the  nickname  ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently  on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which  can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

*******************************************************************************************

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 27

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1740

Warnings:  Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse, little angsty

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 27: The Blank Check

While the babies stayed in the medbay in intensive care I decided it was about time that my mother met Tony and Steve, and if that went well, Riley and Pietro too. It had been over six months since that meeting with her and dad, and with the babies all coming now, it wouldn’t be long until I would have the babies around me all the time and the decision of whether I let her meet my children or not would be a decision about whether I kept working to have a mother/daughter relationship with her at all.  It was time to shit or get off the pot.

I invited mom to come up and have morning tea with me.  Steve and Tony would be there too and if that went well FRIDAY could tell one of the others to bring Riley and Pietro down.  

I spent that night with Wanda and the babies and after we had breakfast and she fed them I headed up to prepare.  Everyone else had agreed to give us space and had gone to either visit Wanda and the twins or went down to the garden to play with the dogs and Riley and Pietro.  I had the cooks prepare a spread of small cakes and finger sandwiches along with tea and coffee.  When FRIDAY announced that she was coming up in the elevator I got up quickly.

“You both wait here,” I said to Tony and Steve.

Tony looked more nervous than I felt.  I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous.  I’d spent so much time with my mom lately, it wasn’t like being reunited with a stranger.  I guess I just felt like this was it.  Yes, I could cut her out if things turned toxic later, but if I introduced her to Riley and Pietro today, they’d go from having no grandparents to having one and I wouldn’t want to be the one that took that away from them.

“El,” Steve said gently.  “Everything is going to be fine.”

I nodded and went to the elevator.  It opened up just as I got to it and mom stepped out.  She looked even more nervous than I felt.  She had a couple of large gift bags in her hands and she looked around the entryway in awe. It was her first time in the penthouse, so I wasn’t exactly surprised she was impressed by it.  “Elise, honey,” she said, kissing my cheek.  “I heard that Wanda had her babies, so I bought some presents.  And some for Riley and Pietro too.”

“That’s really nice, mom,” I said, leading her inside.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.  I just…”  She didn’t finish her sentence but I knew what she was going to say.  She really wanted to meet them.

I led her past the stairs and around the corner to the dining table where Tony and Steve were standing.  Tony fidgeted on his feet as Steve stood with his hands behind his back.  “Mom, this is Tony and Steve,” I said.  “Steve, Tony, this is my mom, Jennifer.”

“Yes, of course,” mom said, as Steve stepped forward to shake her hand.  “I know you both.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jennifer,” Steve said, shaking her hand.

“Please, it’s Jenny,” mom said.

“Jenny,” he said with a nod.  “Take a seat.”

Mom sat down and Steve and I sat near her.  Tony sat a little further away on the other side of me.

“Have I met everyone now?”  Mom asked.

“Yeah, these are the last two,” I said.  “To be brutally honest with you mom, I held back with them because I figured if you were lying to me, these were the two you were using me to get to.”

She frowned and nodded.  The information obviously hurt but she seemed to understand.  “I get it.  I’m glad you’re trusting me more.”

“While we’re all being brutally honest,” Tony said.  “Not all of us wanted you to get involved in her life.”

She nodded again.  “I know.  And I might deserve that,” she said.  “But I am grateful that I was given a chance.  And I know you were involved with setting me up in the city and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”

“So if I was to offer you a million dollars to leave us alone?”  Tony asked.

Mom looked at him like she’d been hit by a truck.  Her mouth opened and closed like a fish as she tried to grasp the full gravity of what he’d just said.

“I’m completely serious,” Tony said, pulling out his checkbook.  “A million not enough?  Five?  Will five do it?  How about ten?"  He started to scribble out on his checkbook.  "I’ll tell you what Mrs. Cooper, I’ll sign this and write your name right here, and you can fill in exactly the amount you think your daughter is worth.  Because that’s what you wanted right?  For her to marry rich and you and your husband could get your big fat dowry right?  Well, she did just like you wanted.  She got the richest.  If my money isn’t good enough, maybe we can dip into the Asgardian pot.”

Mom looked at me in shock. “Is this what you want, Elise?”

I could feel myself tearing up and I wasn’t sure exactly what factor of what was happening right now was affecting me the most.  Tony’s aggressive overprotectiveness or the fact I was a little worried that my mom would take it.  Over the past few months, the thread that joined me to her had gotten thicker and brighter.  The thought of her ruining all that by picking up the check hurt.

“Of course not,” I said.

“If it’s hurting you, I can leave you alone,” mom said.   “I’ve hurt you enough.  I don’t want the money.  I want you to be okay.”

I started crying and Tony took the blank check and tore it into pieces.  “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

“Did you have to be so dramatic?”  Steve scolded as he pulled me close and rubbed my back.

“Sorry, honey.  I just wanted you to be sure,” he said.

I shook my head and my mom moved closer and took my hand.  I looked into her eyes and she looked back at me seriously.  “Elise, I am sorry for standing by so passively while your father hurt you the way he did.  For raising you to believe you’d ever done anything to deserve it and that all you could expect in life was more of the same.  I’m sorry it took me so long to accept your sexuality.  If I could go back and change things I would.  But I’m so proud of you.  I’m proud of everything you’ve done.  I might not understand it all, but you have a beautiful family that makes you happy and that is the least you deserve.”

I was weeping openly by the time she was done and launched myself into her arms.  She held me close.  The way I held Riley or Pietro when they were upset.  The way moms are supposed to hold their daughters.  The way I’d wish she’d hold me back when my father would hurt me.  I didn’t feel resentful though.  I felt grateful that after all this, I’d finally become the priority.  I felt grateful that I had a chance to have my mom be my mom.

“FRIDAY?”  I said, keeping my head buried in my mom’s neck.  “Can you…?”

“Of course, Doctor Cooper,” she replied.

“Alright.  How about we eat?”  Steve said, rubbing my back. “Elise had very specific ideas about what morning tea was.”

“Right,” mom said, rubbing my back and letting me gently pull away from her embrace.  “Of course.  So tell me about the new babies.”

“They are precious,” Steve said.  “The tiniest little things.  Our other two were more premature, but they were bigger, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t think so, Steve,” I giggled.  “You’re just used to the bruiser that Riley has become.”

“Well whatever the case, they are so small they can each fit in the palm of Thor’s hand,” Steve said.

The elevator dinged and a moment later Clint appeared around the corner holding both Riley and Pietro’s hands.  Mom turned in her chair and gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.  “Is this… are they?”

“Mom,” I said, getting up and waving Clint over.  “This is Pietro and Riley.”

She got down on one knee in front of them.  “Hello, little ones, look at you,” she said, touching their faces.  “Oh my goodness, you have your mother’s eyes.”

Riley looked up at Clint.  “Who’s dis?”

“That’s your grandma,” Clint said, as mom started laughing.

“We don’t dot a gwandma,” Pietro said, eyeing his grandmother suspiciously.

“I’ve been away.  I’m so sorry,” she said.  “I’m back now.  I have presents.”

“Pwesents?”  Pietro asked.

“Is dat cake?”  Riley added, pointing at the table.

Mom laughed as Clint helped her back up.  “You come open your presents and have some cake.  I really want to hear all about you both.”

They ran over to the table excitedly and climbed up on the chairs.  Mom picked up the present bags by her chair and looked at me, tears pricking her eyes.  “Thank you, Elise,” she said quietly.

“You’re welcome,” I said.  “If you would like we can go see Rose and Sarah on your way out.”

“I would love that,” she said.  “Thank you.”  She turned back to the kids and gave them the gift bags.  "I wasn’t sure what your favorite things were.  So I hope you like what I got you.  You’ll have to show me the kinds of things you like best though.”

The kids began opening their presents and mom got them each a cupcake and some milk and gave it to them.  I let FRIDAY know the others could come up if they wanted.  Steve wrapped his arm around me as I watched my mom fussing over the kids.  “Is this how you hoped it might be?”  He whispered.

I nodded and turned, cuddling into him.  “Better,” I said.

“Well, sweetheart,” he replied.  “You deserve it.  I hope you know that.”

I nodded, and for once, the trauma of my past didn’t raise its head to tell me otherwise.  This time, I completely believed that I did.

// NEXT

[michyreadsthenwrites]

Plain Bad Heroines - Let Me Give You My Thoughts On This (Character Analysis)

**major maaaaajor spoilers ahead**

(Here we begin with the handful of characters from Danforth’s sophomore novel that have found their way into my heart and apparently, this Word document. It didn’t hurt that they were all women that love women. And I mean, they really loved women.)

 ·   Merritt Emmons is easily my favorite character. She’s got that dry, sarcastic humor and air around her that makes it really easy to love her and hate her guts all at the same time. (If she were here, she’d tell us that this was a talent, not a flaw.) I felt personally affronted when characters in PBH didn’t like Merritt, like they were overlooking the diamond in the rough right in front of their faces. Then, like most things, it became pretty clear: Merritt Emmons could be one hell of a bitch at times. But it really only made me love her more. I realized that I identified with her. Yes, about being a queer woman that really fucking loves other women, but also because she was a writer that wanted her writing to stay true to how she wrote it, especially with so many people traipsing all over it and trying to make it into something it’s not. That was where I realized I loved her early on; when she pitched a genuine fit over who was to play Clara Broward. It was something so petty and childish, something so very me to throw a fit in a packed room of professionals when you have no idea about that kind of world and what it demands. But she fought for what she believed in, alright. Until she didn’t. This made me love her some more, incidentally. We got to see Merritt’s character development throughout the novel, and more specifically, we got to watch her bounce back and forth between the person she was too scared to be but wanted more than she could ever admit, and the person she spent twenty long years being; the person she was oh-so-tired of introducing to people. This constant shift between new-Merritt and old, crabby, prickly-Merritt was a very raw and vulnerable thing for us to experience as an audience. Merritt was certainly a lot more refreshing than every one of the overdone-Hollywood-types we became acquainted with within the book. She was mean and arrogant and wildly insecure, yet somehow confident and sure of herself, when it came to her work or her knowledge or anything that had to do with any book written, ever. A walking paradox, that one. Merritt was a good way to remember that real people, not built-and-put-together-by-Hollywood-people don’t always have their shit together, and they can’t always get it together by the end of a novel, albeit a long, six-hundred-page one. I think I’ll cut myself off here, friends. Not that I want to, but I feel we have a lot to get to in these pages, and Merritt Emmons can’t be the star of all of them (lord knows I’d let her, though). To sum it up: Merritt Emmons was the star of this book, for me at least. And I hope for you too. (This means go get your ass over to your closest B&N and buy the damn thing).

  ·   Harper Harper is somewhat of a mystery to me. She was a major character in the story, as well as one of our three protagonists, our three heroines, and yet I have trouble finding her as authentic and outlandish as she tries to come across. What I’m still having trouble deciphering is if this is an intentional character flaw created by our Miss Danforth, or if Harper Harper really has nothing to her besides being completely reinvented and marketed by Hollywood. Even in saying this, I know I have to give Harper credit where it’s due. She’s a proud queer woman in the movie industry, as well as openly queer online and really with just anyone and everyone she meets. She’s known for various flings and love-interests of the week, which is still a gross misrepresentation and stereotype of (masc?) lesbians and how they’re emotionally unavailable and unfaithful, which again is a possibility of the author’s intentional writing, something that we can leave for further discussion. We do get a bit of a glimpse into Harper’s life – her real-life – about how her mother is struggling with her sobriety, how her little brother seems to be caught in the middle of her mother’s messy relationships, and how she really has mixed feelings about how she fits into her new movie-star life. That’s about all we get from Harper, though. And it really is almost enough realness to take away from the fact that everyone else in the world sees Harper as the face of Hollywood, as this thing of beauty and money and badassery instead of a real person. But still not enough. And I could be wrong, friends. I could be pulling all of this out of my ass because Harper Harper is a badass queer woman that took over the movie industry with barely any experience under her belt. Harper Harper took every room she walked into by storm, and she made everybody pay attention to her, and she became the character we had a little crush on, simply because she was that big of a deal. But nothing of substance, not really. Not ever. But perhaps she had been her most real self with Merritt Emmons, in between the quiet pages that we didn’t get to read entirely. Merritt, our dry and arrogant and favorite heroine, had been Harper’s favorite, too. The most credit that I find myself giving Harper is her aid in Merritt’s character development. She brought Merritt out of her shell in a massive way, though at times she did have a hand in driving her back into the said shell. It was flawed, their relationship, which is another authentic Harper Harper insight we saw, as little of it there was. They were hot and cold, on and off, but always so enthralled with each other. And while Harper seemed to have had an impact on Merritt (among other factors), it doesn’t seem like Merritt had the same effect on Harper. I could be wrong and do feel free to correct me, friends, but Harper Harper did not come out the other end of PBH a changed woman. She was not burdened with the weight of a life-changing revelation. She was Harper Harper, as she always was, floating and untouchable, the kind of woman you wished to know, maybe to be, but also the kind you see right through. They’re transparent, friends, that’s what I’m trying to get at here. And they tend to stay that way. And I realize as I’m nearing the end of this, that I sound harsh in my critiques and analysis of Harper. I don’t mean to come off that way, friends, I really don’t. The truth is I love Harper, she’s everything we wish we could be. She’s gorgeous and sought after, can land any girl she wants with the bat of her eyelashes and a lazy smile. But you have to remember, she’s everything we’re not. I can only speak for myself, friends, and I encourage you to speak for yourselves if you find you have anything to add. I never related with Harper the way I did with Merritt’s character, but that doesn’t mean that Harper isn’t a beautiful enigma waiting to be unwrapped. I just don’t happen to be the kind of reader that would know where to begin unwrapping her, if that makes sense. And because I’m afraid it doesn’t, I do believe it’s time to stop with the metaphors and wrap this up nicely for you, friends: Harper Harper is number two on my list of favorite characters from PBH, and that is not something done lightly or by accident. She was one of our three heroines, after all. And a proper heroine she was, friends. Don’t you ever forget it.

  ·   Libbie Packard broke my heart more times than I count, friends. You’ll notice I have kept her maiden name, then. This is intentional, friends, for our Libbie never wanted to be a Brookhants, not really. It wasn’t towards the end of PBH that we learned much of what we now know about Libbie, and how it came about that she had been married (to a man no less!), as well as the very young principal of an all-girls school. Throughout their chapters in the book, Libbie and Alex, her Alex, were seemingly at each other’s throats constantly. There seemed to be a mysterious tension that we as an audience weren’t privy to – but it didn’t stop us from speculating. I found myself drawn to Libbie more than I did her counterpart, and I still can’t point my finger as to why. Libbie seemed sad, right from our first introduction, and Alex always seemed angry and cynical (as a queer woman in 1902, is there any other way to seem?). This might serve as a dual character analysis yet, friends. I’m not sure how much I’ll have to say about our Alexandra Trills, but Libbie Packard deserves a long sentence, or two. You know when something finally clicks into place and you can’t help but just let out a long “ooohhhhhhh”? That’s a recreation of how I looked when I read the explanation of how Libbie Packard became Libbie Brookhants. Learning that she had become pregnant with a baby she didn’t want was mind-blowing enough, and it filled in the blanks of how young, gorgeous Libbie had become the wife of a rich, old, old man. Libbie gave up her child was because she didn’t want to be a mother, and she had originally rejected Harold Brookhants offer of marriage because she didn’t want to be a wife, regardless of false the marriage was. And for a while, Libbie’s new life was amazing; she got to live with her Alex in a beautiful house and became the principal of a promising school. This was the life she’d always wanted. Or was that just what we wanted to believe, friends? Only at the end did we learn that Libbie had rejected Harold Brookhants offer (to live a quiet, queer life with her lover and without the child she clearly didn’t want) because she didn’t want to be tied down; not to Harold, not to anyone. If you think about it, friends, this was exactly the life that she had been living for years to come now. The tension with Alex had much to do with the circumstances surrounding them at Brookhants and the evil that was unfolding before them, but it seemingly had even more to do with the fact that Libbie Packard felt smothered. She was hiding secrets from Alex, secrets that she felt could destroy this already fragile relationship that they had between them. How vastly different it was to read and experience their relationship at the beginning of their love; playful and full of joy, both women giddy with the promise of something new and exciting. To compare that kind of love to the broken, tight-lipped, empty vessel of the relationship they now pretend to have is heartbreaking. And yet, completely understandable. Alex had fallen in love with the Libbie she wanted her to be, not the Libbie she was. Our Libbie wanted to be eternally young; playful and happy, bouncing from city to city with Sara Dahlgren in a sea of eligible bachelors (and bachelorettes!). It was almost a shock to discover that this life Libbie tried so hard to defend and protect was not a life she had ever wanted for herself. Despite this, she loved her Alex and her students, and devoted her life to them. There was that whole business with cheating on Alex with Adelaide the housemaid (don’t even get me started on that broad) but I’d like to extend to you, friends, the fact that I won’t comment on this. Queer relationships in 1902 are definitely not what they are now, complete with century-old curses and dead schoolgirls. Libbie Packard became the 1902-lesbian-headmistress version of our stereotypical bored housewife, stuck in a marriage that she secretly wishes she could be free from. And my heart broke for her, friends, it really did. But she was a heroine all on her own. A deeply intelligent and remarkable woman. Make no mistake, friends. Libbie Packard and Libbie Brookhants differ by more than just a surname. Our young, vivacious Libbie disappeared the moment she accepted Harold Brookhants’ offer, and this is indeed the sad truth of it, friends: Libbie Packard was gone before she could ever find herself. But Libbie Brookhants was our gorgeous, brilliant, queer heroine that never got what she deserved. So, friends, let’s all have a moment of silence for our dearly departed Libbie Brookhants… wherever she is.

·   Alexandra Trills is a character that I don’t know where to begin with. Her end is not one that I saw coming, at least not in the gruesome and deranged circumstances that came to surround it. Or maybe, friends, I just didn’t want to acknowledge the clear downwards spiral that our Miss Trills had seemed to be heading towards. Her steadfast and growing obsession with the death of Florence Hartshorn and Clara Broward was apparent in every page we turned, and the following death of Eleanor Faderman did not aid in absolving Alex of her obsession with the one, single copy of a book they had all possessed at one point: The Story of Mary McLane. Alex grew hysterical in her investigation of the novel and whatever evil she believed it had brought to the students of her school. I remember feeling a bit hysterical myself at times, following along with Alex’s scrambled train of thought that never seemed to find a place to stop. She was right, you know, my friends. And now what does she have to show for it? A gruesome death and an eternity of haunting the same grounds, day in and day out? I may not have liked her, and felt like she had been the reason Libbie was so unhappy and stuck in a life that she did not want, but the way Alex’s story had ended really did take me by surprise and break my heart. She deserved a better ending than what she got; she deserved to reconcile and fix her strained relationship with Libbie. Damn it, they deserved to live quiet, happy lives with each other. Neither of them got the endings that they deserved, and God, did they deserve plenty. This, friends, is the hill I choose to die on tonight.

 Alright, friends, this is it for my character analysis of Emily Danforth’s Plain Bad Heroines! I have a special place in my heart for book characters that you can relate with (or characters that just really make you love them). The way that Emily Danforth brought our heroines to life was remarkable and highly impressive (I say this because it’s decidedly been a while since any book character(s) have weaseled their fictional way into my little heart). It’s rare that I give a book five stars (check out my Goodreads reviews) (oh god, please don’t), and yet halfway through PBH, I knew that this book deserved it. Good book characters are the ones that stick with you long after you’ve closed the book on them, and our heroines are stuck with me. And believe me, friends, I’m certainly not complaining. 

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Azula x female reader series: Part 4

Azula hatches a plan to keep you closer to home than Ozai intended and disrupts her friends lives in the process. Initially happy with her plan as time goes on Azula grows more and more frustrated at what it means for the two of you. 

Part One here

Part Two here

Part Three here

Part Five here

Part Six here

Tagged: @saucy-sapphic @justastranger-passing @azulasprincess @888-rising​

@sighsam​

-----

Your POV

You were stood in the dining room watching as the royal family and Mai ate their dinner in uncomfortable silence. Your last few hours as Azula’s maid would end tonight and you wondered when Azula would announce who she had assigned you to. As if reading you mind Azula put her cutlery down and sat up "Ive made my decision father". Your breath caught even though you knew this had been coming. You thought back to the conversation you’d had with Azula after you’d accepted her offer to share her bed when she told you her plan and your part in. You understood the reasoning behind who Azula wanted to assign you to but it didn’t make it any easier.

Ozai looked towards Azula with a small frown, probably annoyed she would bring this up when guests like Mai were present, even though Mai was hardly a guest by now.  "What decision?" Zuko asked but his father ignored him looking to Azula "Very well...close to the dealine too". You saw Zuko and Mai look at Ozai confused and several of the servants too risked a confused glance with one another. You knew Azula would need you to act like you hadn’t planned this so too put on a mask of open confusion and stared at Azula with the others. Azula ignored Ozai’s snarky comment and smiled aware the whole room was watching "although y/n’s skills are not needed by me I can think of someone who needs it, Zuko". You felt the atmosiphere in the room turn and you pretended to look at Azula shocked. Azula smirked at Zuko who looked as shocked as you, he stared at Azula and then looked to Mai. You followed his eye and couldn’t see any change in Mai’s face but never could anyway. "What..why?"? Zuko asked. "Father said i could choose who to send y/n to and I choose you brother, lets face it you need the most help being kept up to standard and y/n’s one of the best so y/n is your new maid". Zuko glanced to where you stood behind Azula and then to his father as if seeing if this would be allowed, women maids were not often allowed to serve male masters so closely and when they did it was always surrounded by rumours and gossip. Ozai didn’t really seem to care he just sighed "don’t argue Zuko, Azula recommends her, your sister is helping you". Zuko went to argue and Ozai slammed his fists down "I will not waste time arguing over the help at my own dinner table” he yelled glaring at Zuko “y/n is your maid now, fire her if you care that much". You could tell by Zuko’s reaction he would not be doing that, he lowered his head in defeat and Azula smiled catching your eye. Her plan to have you spy on Zuko was now in motion. 

As soon as it was possible to be dismissed Zuko and Mai stood to leave and reluctantly you stood up too. Mai glared openly as you followed but Zuko ignored you. You looked back to Azula aware this could be the last time you’d see her for a while as her and Zuko largely avoided each other. Azula looked down as you left and you just wished she’d look back up. You’d do as she asked and spy on Zuko but you couldn’t get the night you’d spent together out of your head or deny how it made you feel. You’d told yourself Azula had given you this mission because it gave her an assoication with you, a reason to keep in contact with you, because she cared...but as you walked out of the room she didn’t even look up. This deal was just buisness that’s all.

You followed Mai and Zuko a respectful distance away. They headed towards the royal wing before stopping near the exit for Mai’s house. You hung back so she and zuko could say goodnight and lowered your eyes blending in like you’d been taught. Mai turned and walked towards you glaring right at you, she barged your shoulder as she passed and disappeared out of the palace. You righted yourself and followed Zuko. He reached his room and allowed you inside after him but was clearly uncomfortable. The door closed and he looked at you and then away again unsure what to say or do. He kept going to speak and then stopping so you took over "Prince Zuko shall i help you prepare for the night?". Zuko coughed blushing "Well I can do that myself". “It’s my job” you told him "I am your maid now”. Zuko rolled his eyes “thanks to Azula, this is all part of her plan to screw with me I know it”. You didn’t react or comment on Zuko’s speculation you just stared at him. “Still that’s not your fault” Zuko shrugged and you looked away. Silence fell again and you hated the tension so tried to make it less awkward “Shall I do what I usually do and tell me if there’s anything you wish to change?". Zuko nodded and you readied the room as you would any room and then turned to him. "Is there anything else you require Prince Zuko?". He shook his head looking at his room "no thank you y/n you are dismissed". You bowed "goodnight Prince Zuko I will return in the morning" and left the room.

Azula's POV

It had been 3 days since Azula had assigned you to Zuko on your mission and four more days before the date you’d agreed to meet to discuss what you had found but Azula was growing impatient. Azula had felt uneasy since you’d left with Zuko and she hadn’t seen you since, it was as if her brother was hiding you, she thought bitterly. Azula had thought assigning you to Zuko was a clever plan, she trusted you and now had a spy in her brother own staff who would report on anything and everything she wanted. It was a good plan so why did she feel so restless? Azula pretended maybe it was because after having you serve on her for years you were gone and it was just the change in scenery that disturbed her but she knew it wasn’t, it was specifically because you were gone. In the deepest parts of her mind Azula acknowledged a care or fondness for you but Azula figured all she felt for you came from physical attraction. Sure you’d been nice and kind to her but Azula had felt an attraction to you long before she trusted you so it must just be a physical fondness. Azula had been aware of her growing want and attraction of you that’s why she gave you the offer to share her bed on your last night. She thought one night with you would satisfy her curiosity and solve all her problems surrounding you. She figured afterwards, her thoughts and ideas finally fulfilled, she’d send you on your mission and no longer think about or admire you, the fun chase of the unknown would be over and so she’d no longer have a want or need of you. She had it all planned and it should have worked but why didn’t it? Why did she still want you around?  

"Azula!" Ozai snapped and she jumped "what? Im listening"? "You weren’t!” Ozai spat and Azula gulped. She’d been thinking about you again for what felt like the 100th time today but this time in the middle of Ozai’s war meeting. The fact she hadn’t been able to think of anything apart from you since you’d left her company drove Azula crazy, how could it be physical if even after spending an amazing night with you Azula still wanted more?

The door opened saving Azula from another rant from Ozai who noticed her staring off again as Zuko came into the room. "Sorry I’m late" he said bowing and Azula shot up in her seat as if zapped by lightning. You were there behind Zuko, head down eyes low like you’d been taught but Azula desperately wanted you to look up, to look at her. But instead you followed Zuko and came to stand at the back of the room with the other servants. Azula felt a twinge of anger as you stood obediently near Zuko and not near her as you used to, just another reminder you were his now and not hers. Azula knew this was her own fault, she'd assigned you to Zuko and failed to see this potential problem but Azula never admitted when she was wrong and she wasn’t going to start now. Her plan to have you spy on Zuko gave her a good advantage and besides she could hardly undo it now, she’d just have to see it through and endure the anger she felt seeing you follow Zuko around. She just had to remind herself no matter who you “served” you were still hers, you still reported to her! You were still working for her, zuko was just a cover nothing more. Azula told herself this and found it brought her some comfort and appeased her anger. Azula glanced to where you stood and an idea formed in her head. She would come see you tonight, your meeting wasn’t due yet but so what? She was in charge, if she wanted to push the date forward she could. This way she could assess you and Zuko and use the excuse to see you again, see how she felt in your presence and if it made her feel better...if it did, well she’d take it from there. Yes she would do that, comforted she say back and began to finally listen to what Ozai was saying.

Your POV

You were woken up by someone shaking your arm. You groaned opening your eyes and jolted to see it was Azula. "Princess" you gasped flushing, the Princess was here in your room. She had come here in the middle of the night to see you. You were furious at yourself for not tidying your room before you’d gone to sleep or for wearing better quality night clothes but Azula didn’t seem to mind. She smiled and sat next to you on the edge of your bed "yes it’s me y/n, have you forgotten what I look like already?". "Of course not" you replied and she smiled again "good, i came to see how your time with zu zu is going?". You felt disappointed, that’s why she was here but what else did you expect? Just because your mind hadn’t left Azula since the moment you’d been seperated didn’t mean hers hadn’t either. You frowned and answered her question "it’s going as you said it would, he is very awkward at the moment but polite and kind I suppose". "Does he trust you yet?". You shook your head "no I think it will take more time". Azula frowned but then nodded "yes that is to be expected..but I’m sure considering it is you it will not take long". You frowned unsure if this was a compliment “may I ask why you think that?” you asked seeming to catch Azula of guard. She looked up at you before shooting her eyes away, she looked conflicted. “Well my brother has shown preference for you before, he chose to flirt with you at the Ember Islands over anyone else, there was a whole room full of potential girls but he chose you to make Mai jealous”. You paused as many argument sprung up in your head to counter Azula’s claim but then stopped noticing Azula seemed angry, she spat the statement Zuko liked you and was glaring at the floor. Even if she was wrong about Zuko liking you that didn’t mean she knew that, she honestly believed he liked you and that angered her. It was ridiculous but you wondered if that belief was why Azula chose you to assign to Zuko. “Azula you told me you wanted me to get close to Zuko how close?” you asked warily. Her eyes narrowed and she wringed her own hands at the comment “I’m not sure y/n” she admitted “for you to learn his secrets I need him to trust you, to be fond of you and to let you in” she explained and you nodded “I understand Princess”. “But the two of you will be nothing like how our relationship is” Azula said fiercely and you smiled slightly. “Or was I suppose” Azula trailed off and you frowned. “How have you been?” you asked “I have wanted to enquire about you to the other servants but didn’t want to ruin my cover”. Azula smiled slightly “I am fine, your replacement is a complete idiot however” Azula cried “she has no idea of my schedule or how important is it for me to be punctual! She gets my food orders wrong and booked my training rooms for the complete wrong days! And she doesn’t arrange my room the way you did!” Azula carried on and you grinned. Azula blushed and looked down “I suppose you can say I’ve noted your absence”. You smiled sadly and hardly thinking place your hand on top of hers “I’ve missed you too Azula”. You expected her to yell at you for touching her or for insinuating she missed you but she did neither. She shifted and you moved your hand away but Azula didn’t move away “If you have missed me as you put it” she said looking down “you may like my proposal”. You watched Azula waiting for her to continue and nodded when she looked up “I am listening”. “The last night you were my servant...the deal I offered you”. You sat up now fully alert and stared at Azula noticing the slight blush on her cheeks. "I know I said it was a one time thing but..." Azula trailed off and you stared at her, willing her to continue with what she was saying but she seemd to need encouragement. "Pri...I mean Azula...". Azula looked up as you corrected yourself and she smiled. "Azula" you carried on "if you wish to do what we did again, I wouldn’t object". "You enjoyed it?" Azula asked smirking smugly, her nerves now apparently gone and her voice alone sent shivers up your neck. "Of course" you nodded "I haven’t stopped thinking about it honestly". Azula felt excitment but also intrigued, you hadn’t been able to get her out of your head either? She shook away the leaping thoughts and smirked "so really I’d be helping you focus on your duties? If I did this you’d stop daydreaming about me and do your work?" She asked tilting her head to one side as she leant backwards on her arms. You looked up at her and saw how cocky she was, she oozed confidence and ease and you loved it. "Yes princess" you gulped out of habit and she tutted "Azula" she corrected you before kissing you. The sensation was soon becoming familiar and you smiled as azula pushed you to lay down, if this became a regular thing like Azula said you’d be the happiest servant alive,who cares if you got caught?

Afterwards you both lay recovering in comfortable silence before Azula spoke. “Your room needs redecorating” Azula commented and you looked to where she lay beside you staring up at your ceiling. You were still in a daze and weren’t sure you heard her right “I’m sorry?”. Azula sat up and smiled at you over her shoulder ”Your room, It is plain and ugly”. You shrugged “It’s the same as all the servants rooms” you replied and Azula smiled “yes but you are not just any servant are you? You are my servant” making you blush. Azula smiled and continued “and if I am to be spending more time here I would have it look nice”. You paused as Azula surveyed the room “I think some nicer drapes, new furniture and of course some softer bedding” she smiled making you blush. “I will see what I can find..” you started and Azula shook her head “No i will have it all sorted” she told you getting back dressed “I will show you the plans before I do anything of course but I am sure you will like my taste”. You redenned again but smiled “whatever you wish”. The room had never bothered you before, you didn’t care if Azula changed it, if it meant Azula would be visiting more you’d install a hole in the ceiling. Azula nodded “I will have it all ready by my next visit, now I must be leaving”. You nodded and rushed to stand, it was stupid you just done things that definitely went against the formalities required of a servant but now out of the moment you were back to formal mode and the thought of Azula showing herself out was preposterous. Azula seemed the find it amusing too and smirked as you rushed to escort her to the door “this was most enjoyable” Azula told you stroking your cheek “you thought so too?” she asked. “Definitely” you nodded “you are welcome any time”. Azula’s smirk wavered and was replaced with a genuine smile and her eyes softenned “thank you y/n” she said quietly and you smiled, making sure not to make a big deal of this and scare her off. Azula coughed looking down and removed her hand from your cheek “I will see you again in 2 days time, same place and time”. “I look forward to it” you smiled and Azula smirked “good night y/n” and exited your room.      

You weren’t sure if anyone else noticed it but you thought both you and Azula changed after that night. When you saw Azula in the throne room or the coridoors of the palace her gaze always lingered on you when nobody was watching and when you looked at her she’d smile slightly. Just a twinge of her cheeks but you knew Azula well enough to read those minute movements all her family didn’t notice. You were sure you were actually making Azula happy and not like how winning a war or humilating a person made her happy but purely happy, innocently happy. All you had to do was trick Zuko into trusting you, cover up Azula’s visits to your room, avoid the suspicion of Mai, Ozai and your fellow servants all while doing your daily jobs! Shouldn’t be too hard.

----

I know it’s over used but I had to play on the jealousy between Azula and Zuko, I think Zuko defo brings out her jealous side more than anyone and would make her finally realise her emotions for the reader. I kind of felt like this was a awkward part storywise as it didn’t really advance too much but I tried to make the relationships Azula and Zuko have with the reader progress naturally. I’m planning on only making two more parts so don’t worry the story will esculate and be much more fast paced from now on!

[sadsilktrader]

Secret Admirer

I apologize for my extreme tardiness for posting to the Geraskier Holiday Exchange. This was written for @gotfanfiction 

A modern Geraskier AU in which Jaskier is receiving gifts from an admirer.

...

"I'm telling you Yen, the man doesn't even know I exist. It can't be him," Jaskier paced the living room of his small apartment, small watering can in hand, completely forgotten. His plants looked on forlornly. 

"Hm," she replied, he could hear the scritch-scratch of the emery board while she only half-listened to his prattling. "All I'm saying is that he was there at the pub the night you played and he lives in your building and he can hear you when you practice and those have all been the nights you've got gifts from your secret admirer." 

"Half the building goes to that pub, it could be anyone! Plus, he doesn't even know I exist. " He flopped dramatically onto the couch, spilling water on himself. "Anyway, I'll let you go do whatever important business you have to do. You'll be here before my show on Saturday with Triss, right?" 

"We'll be there. We just have to drop Ciri off at her dad's first. Now promise me you'll at least talk to him next time you see him."

"Maybe." He grumbled. 

"What was that?"

"Fine, fine! I promise!" 

"You better. I'm tired of listening to you wistfully sigh every time we speak."

"You're the worst."

"I love you too Jaskier, bye." 

The phone clicked. 

He'd met Yen online, a friend of a friend of a friend. They played DnD together, starting off as catty enemies and somehow developing into the deep friendship they had now. She was a good person, just a little rough around the edges. Well, very rough around the edges. 

She'd settled down a lot over the last few years when motherhood had fallen into her lap though. He wasn’t certain about all the details, they were close but she was a private person. She shared custody of her adopted daughter, Ciri, with her ex. He'd never had the pleasure of meeting the man but he'd heard enough about him to form his own opinions. Heart in the right place but not exactly open about his feelings. 

Sounded a lot like his own mysterious love. He sighed again, there was no way it was his gorgeous and stoic upstairs neighbor. The man was gorgeous and kind and lovely. He was tall and pale with silky white hair. Not to mention outrageously muscular. Jaskier had seen him in their apartment's gym working out on more than one occasion. It had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep himself from openly ogling him. He'd seen him feeding the feral cat that lived in the parking lot. Helping their elderly neighbors with their groceries. Playing with his daughter on the weekends. The man was too good to be true. Which was why he was absolutely positive he couldn't be the one leaving the gifts at his door. 

The mystery man was perfect but he, Julian Alfred Pancratz, college drop out, jobless, barely squeezing by with the money he made by doing odd jobs in the apartment complex and occasionally performing at the neighborhood pub, was an absolute mess. There was no way someone like the man would give him more than a passing glance. 

He sat up quickly leaving the forgotten, spilled watering can to the side to search for his notebook and pen. At least all the angst and longing seemed to also be a fantastic inspiration. 

...

He chewed his lip, the leather-bound notebook balanced on his knee. He strummed a few chords on his guitar before setting it back carefully down to scribble something down. 

The sun was fully set now and his balcony light had flicked on giving the small area an ethereal glow. He loved the process of writing and creating outside where he could feel the world around him. There was something about feeling the gentle breeze against him, the sun and moon shining down on him, and the fluttering hummingbirds that visited his feeder that just felt right.  

He stretched and yawned and was contemplating packing up for the night when he heard it. A barely-there, soft knock at his door. Eyes gone wide he all but threw his things down and ran to the door to open it. No one. As always. There was however a small box tied in a ribbon and a note attached. 

A voice so sweet deserves something sweet in return. -love, your admirer 

He undid the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was an assortment of homemade chocolates. He popped one in his mouth and let it slowly melt over his tongue. Dark chocolate, caramel, sea salt. He couldn't help the sappy smile that plastered itself on his face and would stay there the rest of the night. 

It had been a little over a month since the gifts started arriving. Most of the time they were baked goods or sweets of some kind but occasionally it was something different.  A clutch of flowers, a silver bracelet with music notes engraved, once there was even a picture of a particularly beautiful sunrise left for him. He treasured them all. 

He was a hopeless romantic down to the core of his being. He had never met his admirer but he was sure it would be love at first sight.

…

He was bone tired. He'd spent the day hauling furniture away to the thrift store and painting the walls of one of his elderly neighbors who was soon moving to a rest home. For all the work he was paid thirty dollars and a batch of very good snickerdoodle cookies. He knew it was all the woman could afford to give him and he was grateful for that. Not exactly enough to pay the rent but enough to buy a few groceries at least. 

He stood in the deli section, weighing out the pros and cons of value pack meats when he saw him. The man, his white hair hanging loose around his shoulders, dark jeans, and a leather jacket. His breath hitched and his mouth went dry. 

Gods how can anyone look that attractive just going to the grocery store. 

The man looked up, catching him staring. His eyes the color of amber and honey. He felt like a deer in the headlights caught in his gaze. A few faint scars visible on his face and neck. He couldn't help but wonder if there were more on the rest of the man's body and felt a blush rise to his cheeks. 

"It's leaking." The man said.

"What?"

"The honey ham your holding, it's leaking."

He stared at the gorgeous being before him for a moment longer before it clicked. 

"Oh fuck," he dropped the squishy package on the ground, ham juices splashing on the both of them. 

"Oh, gods I'm so sorry," he wasn't sure his face could get any redder. 

"It's okay, really. I've had much worse things spilled on me before. You looked pretty lost in thought."

An employee glared at him with a mop and trash can. He smiled awkwardly, wishing he could just disappear. 

"You're the musician, right? I live in the apartment above yours. I can hear you playing from my living room." The way the man said it had him wondering if that was a good thing or not. 

"I'm Julian, well Jaskier to my friends and fans." He mustered up the courage he usually reserved for the stage and gave the man his best smile. 

"Geralt. I'd shake your hand but," He nodded to his arms full of groceries. "You know when you go into the store thinking you only need one thing?" 

"Well, you're in luck," he gestured to his cart, "I just so happen to have the best cart in the store. Not a squeaky wheel in sight." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely! The life of a musician leads to a very sparse diet. More than enough room for both of us. Plus we're headed to the same place." 

Geralt had an amused smirk on his face that made Jaskier's heart skip a beat. Conversation between them came easy. Geralt was the quieter of the two but his dry wit and cheesy jokes had him laughing harder than he had in ages. Handsome and funny. 

They made their way back to the apartment complex walking slower than was necessary, he noticed. 

"So you have a daughter? I'm not stalking you or anything, I just noticed her around the complex sometimes."

"Ciri," he replied. "My ex and I share custody, its-" he sighed, running his hand through his hair, "it's a bit of a complicated situation actually. But they’re moving closer soon and that should help.”

The elevator stopped at his floor and he stepped off. 

“So, I’ll be seeing you.” he mentally berated himself for not being able to come up with something more clever. The door was closing between them and he suddenly shot his hound out, stopping the door. 

“Actually, and please forgive me if this is too forward, maybe I could give you my number and we could grab a coffee sometime? Or do our grocery shopping together again?”

Geralt chuckled before reaching into his pocket, tapping at the screen a few times, and passed it over. He added his number with the name Jaskier followed by a heart and music note emoji. The moment the elevator door closed he was dancing, groceries in hand, for his forwardness paying off for once. 

…

It was colder tonight but he still played outside until his fingers were near numbing. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold. After his run-in with the man, he felt like he was walking on clouds. The world was at peace and he was the luckiest man in the world. He’d almost forgotten about his secret admirer completely until the same soft knock came from outside the door. Today was different though. Today he was brave and he had left a note for his admirer to find.

I beg of you to reveal yourself to me. I will be performing at the Royal Oak this Saturday. Please, wear this token so I may recognize you amongst the other patrons. Love, Jaskier

He strained his ears and purposely walked slowly to the door, giving his admirer time to leave the gift and find his note. He swore he heard mumbling of words. He closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening the door. 

His note was gone and in place of it a container he opened to reveal a miniature-sized three-layered cake elaborately decorated with chocolate-covered strawberries. It was, as always, delicious to the point of sin. 

He felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t want to string along his admirer, especially if things with Geralt turned out well. But he was getting ahead of himself. They had spoken once and here he was already planning their life together. 

…

The next few days passed quickly. His wish of getting more work around the complex had come true but he was, unfortunately, unable to do any more practice for his upcoming performance. Every day he came back to his apartment with every intention of playing only to wake up from an unintentional five-hour nap on his couch. 

To make matters worse, he hadn’t received a single text from Geralt, and since his sleep schedule was completely messed up he hadn’t caught a single glimpse of him since their last accidental meeting. He thought of swinging by his place to invite him to his show but decided against it. Maybe he needed some space? Maybe he had come off as too clingy? The doubts and second-guesses were mounting.

He arrived at the pub early to set up and get some practicing in before going on stage. Geralt wouldn’t be there but at least, he hoped, his soon-not-to-be secret admirer would be. Inside the note, he’d left a silver brooch of a songbird in flight. It was small but something he would instantly recognize. The glimmer of it from the stage lights would catch his attention. At least that’s what he was hoping. He felt more nervous about this performance than he had in a long while.

“You okay there Jaskier?” The voice came from behind him and he turned to see Triss, her curls down, beautifully framing her face. 

“Oh thank the Gods,” he hugged her tight. 

“Where’s your better half?” he asked looking around the growing pub’s crowd. 

“Outside on the phone. It’s her ex, they don’t argue often but when they do,” she made a face. “Something about him needing her to watch their daughter.”

“Doesn’t he only see her on weekends? What an asshole.”

“Right?” 

He felt more at ease with a friendly face by his side and felt even better when Yennifer joined them. He was smarter than to ask her about the phone call and instead chatted about everything and anything to get his mind off his nerves. Time went by more quickly now and soon it was time for him to play. 

The second he stepped on stage his demeanor changed. Gone was any trace of nerves and doubt. The stage was his solace, the place he could bare his soul to the masses, or in this case to the forty-odd people crammed into the pub. 

It was halfway through his third song when he remembered to keep an eye out for his admirer. He scanned the crowd hoping for the familiar glint to catch his eye but there was nothing. He chewed his lip. 

The third song blended into his fourth and fifth. Still nothing. He took a break to grab a drink. He made small talk with Yennifer who raised a delicate brow at him. 

"Alright, spill it. What's got you so distracted?" 

He finished his drink and let his smile fall into a grimace. 

"I left a note. For my admirer. I asked them to come tonight. I left them something to wear so I would recognize them and-" 

"And they did show?" She finished for him. 

"Nope. Wait how did you know?" 

"First off you're terrible at hiding your emotions, and second I was fucking right and you owe me.”

“What?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess I’m partially to blame, I should have realized it earlier.”

“I- what?” he asked again. 

“Jaskier. Darling. Sweetheart. I was right.” she said the words slowly as one would do to a small dog. 

“Right about what?”

“Your admirer. It’s your neighbor. You never told me but let me guess. Pale, white hair, roguishly handsome, looks like he could snap you in half like a twig?”

“How do you?” He was feeling a little faint now like he was at the edge of realizing something terrible.

“Your neighbor, your admirer, and my ex are all the same person.”

His eyes went wide. It all made sense. All the clues were there but he had just been too dense to put them all together. He’d seen pictures of Yenifer’s daughter but he’d never spent more than a passing glance at Geralt's visiting daughter. 

“Oh fuck.” he sat down, suddenly unsure of his legs beneath him. 

“He called me right before I came in going on about needing to go out for a few hours and if it was alright with me if he left Ciri alone.” she chuckled. “I told him to not be an asshole and spend time with his daughter.”

Jaskier’s head perked up. Geralt had wanted to come. He hadn’t blown him off. 

“I have to go. Fuck, I can’t leave in the middle of a set though.” 

Yennifer waved him off, “I’ll sort things off here, you go to him.”

He kissed the top of her head and gave her a quick, tight hug. “You would tell me if this bothered you right? I mean, he’s your ex and all.” 

“I think you two would do a very good job at evening each other out, now go!” She smacked him on the shoulder and off he went. 

…

He ran home, or at least halfway home before running out of breath and proceeded to briskly walk the rest of the way. He was still trying to decide what to say when he found himself outside the door, sweating profusely and looking an absolute mess. He knocked on the door before he talked himself out of it. 

“One minute!” A voice from beyond the door answered followed by the sound of an oven door closing and the chain sliding from the door’s lock. 

The door opened. He looked beautiful, even like this, wearing an apron covered in flour cocoa powder. Especially like this maybe. 

“I’m friends with Yennifer and she said it was you but I didn’t believe her and I didn’t realize that your daughter Ciri was also her daughter Cirilla which in retrospect should have clued me in but-” he took a deep breath in. Geralt looked nervous and his rambling wasn’t happening. He started over. 

“You’re my secret admirer?”

The man blushed. “I am. Is that okay?”

“Very, very okay.” He smiled. 

“Would you like to come in? I was just baking. For you.” his blush deepened and Jaskier heart felt like it would burst with affection. 

“I’d like that very much.”

[skylights2000]

Switch! (Gundham x Fem! Reader) Part 6

~

I swear I’m still doing everyone’s requests. I was just so excited about this story that I ended up writing the whole chapter when I only meant to get started on it 😅

!TRIGGER WARNINGS!

There is a reference to a past suicide attempt!

This is a long one, so get settled in and enjoy! On to the story! 💜

~

No matter how much you argued that you had things to get done, everyone agreed that you needed rest. You finally gave in when Manako and Hiko promised to keep you updated on the current projects, as well as any new ones that came in.

In the end, you were thankful for the help. Though you’d never admit it, you really were exhausted, and it was comforting to have someone remind you that your business wouldn’t fall apart if you took some time off.

You slept for the majority of the next week. Gundham and Sonia spent more time at your home than at their own during that time.

Every few hours, you’d vaguely hear your bedroom door creak open, and one of them would come in to ask how you were doing.

If you were sleeping, you’d mumble that you were okay, just tired. If you were awake, they’d ask you if you wanted to eat, watch a movie, or something.

Sonia was a great cook, and whenever you felt bored or cooped up, she’d let you help her.

Sometimes, the three of you would go outside and sit on your front porch or walk down the street to the park. They always walked on either side of you, ready to catch you if you fell.

You appreciated their concern, but you eventually nudged them both ahead of you, assuring them that, yes, you were fine and would tell them if you weren’t.

On days that Gundham had to work, Sonia would keep you company. Today was one of those days, and Sonia was excitedly telling you about her upcoming date with Peko.

“Do you want to go shopping with me?” Sonia asked excitedly.

You hadn’t actually been shopping in a while. You spent most of your time working and never really went many places that required nice clothes, so you never had a reason to go shopping that much.

Maybe you could get something nice for yourself? It’s not like you didn’t have the money. But where would you even wear something like that? A date maybe?

The thought made you realize that you hadn’t been on a date in almost two years. Jeez, that made you feel like some kind of hermit.

“Sure, why not.”

Sonia clapped happily and dragged you up from the couch. “Alright, get dressed, and we will go!”

You shook your head, amused by her enthusiasm, and retreated to your room to change out of your pajamas.

~

Miu sent you and Sonia a message just as you were getting into your car.

I’ve got awesome news fuckers! Where are you?!

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what she’d gotten into this time. You turned to Sonia. “You mind if she comes along?”

Sonia just grinned. “The more the merrier!”

You smiled and answered the message.

Be outside in ten minutes or I’m leaving you behind

Ooh are you gonna punish me?

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face didn’t falter.

I’ll leave that to Ibuki

You put your phone in one of the cup holders and started the engine.

~

Miu clambered into the backseat the second your car had stopped and immediately launched into a tirade. “Clear your plans for Friday night! We’re goin’ to a fuckin’ concert!”

“You bought tickets?” Sonia asked, and Miu’s grin widened.

“That’s the thing! It’s Ibuki’s concert so we get in for free!”

“Isn’t that abusing your relationship?”

Miu punched your shoulder, causing you to swear and whack her knee. “Don’t do that while I’m driving!”

“It was Ibuki’s idea! She wants all of us to come!”

“All of us?”

Miu nodded, listing off people on her fingers. “The three of us, Gundham, and Kazuichi. So whaddya say?”

“That sounds wonderful!”

“Sounds like fun. You gonna need a ride?”

“Nah, I’m ridin’ with Kazuichi.” Miu seemed to finally remember that they were driving. “Where’re we goin’ anyway?”

“Shopping. Oh, we can even buy outfits for the concert!” Sonia exclaimed, and you nodded along.

“Yeah, gotta match the occasion.”

~

Miu and Sonia dragged you through several stores. Each of them found their outfits fairly easily. You, on the other hand, were having some trouble.

The clothes were all nice, and you really liked some of them, but you really weren’t sure you could pull any of it off.

Eventually, Miu got tired of waiting and started searching for you. Within minutes, she returned with enough outfits to make your head spin and dragged you towards the changing room.

You tried on each outfit, each one getting various comments of “Not that one.”, “Try the next one.”, and “Not your look.”

By the time you got to the last few, you felt incredibly discouraged.

~

“I actually like this one.” You said as you stepped out of the changing room.

Sonia and Miu, who had been having a conversation about Kiibo, turned to you. Sonia’s eyes widened, and Miu’s mouth fell open.

“You look wonderful!”

“Hot damn, you look good, kid.”

“I’m older than you.” You huffed indignantly, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Gundham’s gonna bust the fattest nut when he sees you.” Miu laughed.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise before you smiled awkwardly. “I think you’ve misinterpreted something. Gundham doesn’t see me that way.” You sounded so confident in the assumption that both of them were a bit caught off guard.

“Wait, you really don’t see the way he looks at you?” Miu asked disbelievingly.

You frowned at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

Miu looked to Sonia, who shrugged in response to the silent question.

“Well, how do you feel about him?” Miu asked instead.

You smiled happily. “We’re friends.”

“An’ that’s it?”

You paused for a moment, considering her words for a moment. “Hm, I’ve never really thought about it.”

You didn’t elaborate further as you headed back into the changing room, much to the frustration of Miu, who really wanted the scoop on you and Gundham.

~

The day of the concert was a hectic one. You got several new orders for various kinds of furniture, so you spent most of the day alternating between ordering supplies and cutting and labeling the wood needed for each project.

As soon as you got home, you jumped in the bath, soaking away the soreness in your body. You washed your hair, blow dried it, and set about styling it. Once you were satisfied with that, you headed back to your room to get dressed.

You’d ended up buying the outfit that the three of you liked. You were wearing a dark purple t-shirt, black jean shorts, fishnet stockings, and black combat boots. You accented the outfit with a black, lace choker that had a silver crescent moon in the center and a pair of fingerless black gloves.

You smiled at your reflection. Miu and Sonia were right. You did look good.

You grabbed your phone from your bed and sent Sonia a message saying you’d be at her apartment soon to pick up her and Gundham.

~

When you got there, you parked and climbed the stairs to her apartment. When you knocked on the door, you very vaguely heard Sonia’s voice and the dull thump of boots on the floor before the door opened.

You’re not sure who looked more surprised, you or Gundham.

Sure, you’d seen him in his long coats and dark clothes, but you’d never seen him dressed like this. He was wearing a dark red, band t-shirt, black jeans with several straps and buckles along each leg, and black boots. He had on several black and silver necklaces and twin leather bracelets on each wrist.

You finally forced yourself to look away when you realized you were staring. You waited for him to say something or invite you inside, but he didn’t. For a long moment, he just stared at you, and you hooked your thumbs through your belt loops in an effort to look calmer than you felt. People never really looked at you, so having someone openly stare at you was making you nervous.

“Um..Gundham?” You smiled bashfully, offering a little wave to get his attention.

He blinked and upon realizing what he’d been doing, he looked away from you, moving to hide his face with his scarf before remembering it wasn’t there.

As if to save him from his own awkwardness, Sonia appeared beside him. “Hello, (Y/n)!”

Sonia was wearing a beautiful, gothic style, black dress. It stopped just past her thighs and had long lace sleeves. Several thin, silver chains hung from her waist. She had on knee high, black boots and her usual choker with the pentacle on it. You couldn’t help but smile. They both looked great.

“Hey Sonia. You guys ready to go?”

When they nodded, you led them to your car. Sonia climbed into the front seat since she was giving directions while Gundham climbed into the back.

~

The place was packed when you got there, and it didn’t take long for you to spot Kazuichi’s pink hair out front. He was deep in conversation with Miu, and as you approached, you realized they were talking about their newest project. You smiled nervously. Hopefully, this time, it wouldn’t involve any weird rituals.

As soon as you reached them, Miu dragged you all inside. The place was packed, and you felt a spark of anxiety at the sheer number of people around you. You didn’t like crowds. You probably should’ve thought that part through.

Well, you were already here, and if anything did get bad, you could just politely excuse yourself.

With that thought in mind, you followed everyone inside. You found a table near the back and took a seat with the others. Miu disappeared to wish Ibuki luck before the show, and Kazuichi left after asking if any of you wanted something to drink. You asked for a soda, Gundham requested some water, and Sonia politely asked for some lemonade.

Shortly after he returned with the drinks, the lights dimmed, and the ones on the stage lit up. Miu appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Sonia’s hand then yours. “Let’s dance, bitches!”

“I don’t really know how t-“

“Fake it til ya make it, (Y/n)!”

She wasted no time dragging you two towards the stage. Sensing your discomfort, Sonia stopped Miu from dragging you fully into the mosh pit in front of the stage. Miu huffed, but her expression softened. “Ya alright?”

You smiled sincerely, albeit a bit awkwardly, and nodded. They threw their arms up and danced like crazy, and you laughed as you watched them. You bobbed your head to the beat. It really did make you wanna dance, but there were so many people around.

Sonia, ever the empath, grabbed both your hands and pulled you towards them. “Dance with us!”

They both grinned at you, each taking one of your hands. It was awkward at first because you were still a bit uncomfortable, but being with two of your best friends helped you loosen up, and soon, you were jumping and dancing along with them.

Across the room, Gundham was watching you quietly, a small smile on his face. He liked your smile, liked the way your eyes shined. Your hair whipped your face as you banged your head to the beat. The adrenaline made you feel like you were flying, like nothing existed except you and the music. After an entire week of being cooped up in your house, it felt good to just dance. 

The music made you feel high, like you were tripping on just being alive. It was strange, something you’d never felt before, but you welcomed it readily. 

No matter how much fun you were having, you ended up excusing yourself when you got thirsty. You asked for some water and headed out the side door to get some air. The cool, night air felt incredible against your skin. You didn’t realize how hot you’d gotten. You sat down on one of the benches outside. 

The vaguely heard music from inside mixed with the quiet hum of the night. It was relaxing, and you closed your eyes for a moment to just listen. You breathed in deep and let it out slow.

It felt good to be out, and it made you wonder why you didn’t do it more often. You hadn’t been out like this since you started your business. At first, it was because things were still being set up, then it was because you were busy with all the new customers, but even when you got used to everything, you never went out like this.

You opened your eyes when someone sat down beside you, and a glance to your right revealed that it was Gundham.

“What are you doing out here?” You asked curiously.

He was quiet for so long that you began to think he wouldn’t answer, but eventually, he turned to you. “I wish to inquire about something.”

“What’s up?”

“That scar on your arm. Why have I never seen it until our bodily forms were swapped?” As he asked, he motioned to the long scar that stretched diagonally across your left forearm.

“Oh.” You traced your fingers along the scar. “I usually cover it with makeup.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s kinda ugly, isn’t it?”

“Scars are a sign of perseverance in battle.”

“I don’t think you’d say that if you knew how I got it.” You murmured somberly.

“Why do you speak such nonsense?”

You were quiet for a moment. “...I tried to commit suicide once.”

He stared at you with wide eyes, too stunned to say anything.

“Sometimes I still wonder why I’m here. What point does my existence have? Does it really matter?” You tilted your head back to see the stars as you continued. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s easier to give up.”

You flinched at how suddenly he moved, but in a heartbeat, he was crouching in front of you.

“It seems you do not know the potential you hold, so allow me to enlighten you.” He watched you so intently as he cradled your face in his hands. His touch was gentle, like you were something precious, and it did something funny to your heart. “I have never met a mortal filled with so much compassion. You are humorous and strange. You are talented in your craft and an inspiration to those around you. You do not know the light you bring to this dark world.”

The sincerity in the words surprised you, but you found yourself smiling. “You’re something special, Gundham Tanaka.” You leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

He stood up, looking away from you to hide the growing blush on his face.

You still saw it and giggled softly. “Why don’t we head back inside?” You stood up when he nodded and followed him back inside.

[bad-bitch-beauchamp]

Songs About Me - Chapter Two

Chapter two is up!!! I started writing this all last night, and didn’t want to leave that chapter handing! I have the outline for this story all done and I’m actually pretty psyched about how it’s lining up. I want to take a minute to thank you all for all the kinds words and support yesterday, you’re the best and know how to make a girl feel welcome! Without further ado... Chapter two!

Read on AO3

Later that night, Beacon Hill, Boston, 21st Amendment Pub

“Claire! Over here!” Geillis was sitting at a high top table and stood up on the crossbar of the barstool to wave her over. As she stood up tall with an arm waving over her head, Claire noticed the two men sitting with her glance at her exposed midriff. One oggled her openly, while one looked appreciatively, and smiled down into his beer glass as he took a long drink. This must be Angus and Rupert, then. Claire smiled and wound through the crowd to the table. 

“Awright lads, this is my best girl Claire!” Geillis had clearly been here before her eight o’clock sharp deadline, judging by the way her Scots accent had thickened up. 

“Nice to meet you boys! Let me grab a drink and we can get to know each other!” Claire wove her way to the bar, ordered a few fingers of Laphroig whisky, and made her way back to the table. The 21st Amendment was the perfect watering hole for locals looking to enjoy a few bar snacks, and a lot of drinks. It had started to become a staple for their end-of-week blow offs between her and Geillis after a long week at the greenhouse. When he wasn’t stuck at the hospital, Joe often came out to join them, and tonight he had arrived in her absence and took her under his shoulder.

“I need to see you more than once a week! And now you’ve made it so I can only see you if I come to a karaoke bar?! What kind of joke is this, LJ?” 

“Blame our favorite redhead for this ingenious evening!” Claire jerked her head in Geillis direction. They laughed and hugged each other tight, and began to settle in for the evening. 

Aided by more than a few drinks, the four soon became fast friends. Claire came back from the bar for the third time to see Joe clearly entranced by the three Scots and their innate ability to make any story the best you’ve ever heard. 

“So there I am in bed, Chrissie on my left and Nettie, the butcher’s daughter, on the right. They get jealous of each other, start arguin’ about who I’m gonna swive first. Can ye believe it?” Rupert laughed through his oncoming hiccups; whether they was the result of the raucous laughter or the many pints of ale was anyone’s guess. 

“And then what happened, man?!” Joe leaned forward over the table toward Angus, and Angus leaned in towards Joe, slapping his hands on the table. Rupert opened his mouth to respond but before he could get out a single word, Claire quipped in. 

“I believe your left hand gets jealous of your right. That’s about all I believe!” 

For as loud as the pub had become, the little table surrounded with friends fell into an uncertain silence. Claire wondered if she could fit her other foot in her mouth, in addition to the one that was already there. Then… uproarious laughter. 

“I’ve… I’ve never heard a woman make a joke like that before!” Ruper was cackling now. “Christ, woman! Yer somethin’ else!” Angus was doubled over clutching his side, Joe choked on his drink, and Geillis was practically dissolving into laughter. Another voice, a different voice, came floating to her ear from behind on a warm whisper. 

“Yer a witty one, aye?” 

Claire spun around in her barstool, which was admittedly a mistake. Maybe one too many whiskeys, Beauchamp. She started to slide off the side backless chair when two hands steadied her by the waist. Once she -- and the room -- stopped spinning and came into focus, all she could see was ocean blue eyes. If her eyes were the color of her favorite burning whisky, his were the color of a cooling chaser. 

“Ye alright, lass?” The stranger smirked. She realized she was still holding on to his shoulders, and still staring into his eyes. She felt the muscles under his white v-neck shirt. His very tight shirt, she amended. His hair sparkled with all the same colors as the dark red trees lining the old brick streets outside -- shades of russet and gold, dark auburn and cinnabar. High cheekbones gave way to slanted eyes above and a jawline to cut her glass tumbler below.  Pull yourself together. He’s just a man, and one you don’t even know! 

“Oh, yeah, thanks, I’m fine, thank you,” she stammered as she climbed back on her chair, his hands never wavering from her hips. Why did she sound so formal? “I mean, I’m great!” She flashed him a big smile and then a thumbs-up. What the fuck is your problem?! Maybe find a middle ground? She sighed on a giggle as her eyes fell to the floor and looked up at him with crinkling eyes. “I’m -- ugh. Hi there, I’m Claire.” His smirk grew, his eyebrow rose. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t die just then,” she added hastily. He was watching her when she dared to glance up from under her lashes. 

The stranger waited until she was settled back on the barstool and went to extend his hand for a handshake, only to find his hands were otherwise occupied. He left them where they were, and settled in a little deeper. 

“Och, it’d be a right shame to lose ye to a swivelin’ stool and a dirty pub floor.” The smirk turned into an honest smile. “I’m James. Ye can call me Jamie, if ye like.” He glanced at his hands, one still on her hip and the other traveling up to her waist. Claire felt his thumb stroke her sides and glanced down to watch him unravel her with his touch. Who the hell was this guy? Ordinarily, she’d be offended by some guy holding onto her in a bar, but right now, she found herself hoping this one didn’t let go. She was still watching him trace his small circle on her waist when the hand on her hip reluctantly pulled away, while the one on her waist didn’t move at all. She glanced up to see a pink bloom appear in the tips of his ears and the triangle of chest visible through the dip in his shirt. It was her turn to smirk.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Sassenach. Got a wee bit distracted.” He shoved his free hand in the pockets of his worn jeans. 

“Sassenach--?” Suddenly she was cut off, by a loud voice behind them. 

“Jamie! Ye made it!” Jamie’s large hand pulled away from Claire’s side with a jolt and the absence made her shiver. Rupert and Angus were already making the introductions to their small table. The hellos and drink orders began and conversation between the group began again. Her head was dizzy, but not from the alcohol. She glanced up to see him eyeing her from over the top of his rocks glass, and her stomach flipped. Pull yourself together. Concentrating on the situation, she gathered that Jamie worked with Angus and Rupert at a small shop in the area, but missed the kind of work they did. 

With the addition of Jamie at their table, Geillis suggested they move to one of the booths lining the bar walls. The men blazed a trail forward through the crowd to secure seats, and Claire held Geillis back by the elbow. 

“I thought you said you only invited Rupert and Angus out tonight?” “I did! They asked if they could invite the third member o’ their party, and who am I to say no! Why, is something wrong?” 

Evidently no one else had seen her near fall, and Jamie’s rescue of her. “No, it’s fine, I just didn’t realize we’d have such a big group is all.” Geillis started to ask her another question but Claire nudged her friend forward. “Come on, they won’t hold seats for us forever!” 

Claire was the last to get to the table. Her step faltered for only a moment -- when the only open spot was next to Jamie. 

“I can move, if ye’d be more comfortable --”

“Do you mind if I sit here --?”

They spoke over each other quickly, and simply nodded in answer to each other’s questions. Jamie move down the bench as much as he could with Angus animatedly telling a story on the other side, and Claire filled in the vacant spot on the open end of the booth. It should have been awkward, being strangers forced into tight quarters… but she could’ve sworn he relaxed into side. 

Not a minute into settling down, the DJ at the front of the bar announced, “Next up we Claire, Geillis, and Joe!” 

Momentarily forgetting why they came here, the three friends jumped up from their seats and headed to the makeshift stage with two spotlights, a few microphones, and a small television screen. The men left at the booth watched them with confusion and excitement as they made their way up to the front, and ready for the show from their newfound friends. 

Claire, Geillis, and Joe each took a microphone and began to sing -- if one could really call it that. By the end of Like A Prayer, they were yelling the lyrics, howling with laughter, falling over each other with every repetition of “Just like a prayer, you know I’ll take you there!” The pub clapped and cheered, as a drunk bar on karaoke night often does, and the three friends made their way back to the booth still trying to get enough air back in their lungs after the ceaseless laughter. 

“I didna know ye could sing!” Rupert hugged Geillis into his side and Angus leaned over the tabletop to playfully punch Joe in the shoulder. 

“I think he means that we didna know ye were the type who can’t sing, but still goes to karaoke anyway!” Angus winked at Geillis, and she couldn’t seem to get her giggles under control. 

“Hey now! Joe and I might not be stars or anything, but at least we’re fun -- unlike ye three, who haven’t gone up once!” Taking a gulp from her pint glass, she narrowed in on Claire. “Besides, we sound okay because someone can actually sing when she wants.” The table’s attention immediately moved to Claire with a bombardment of questions. 

“Ye can sing, lass?!”

“Go on, get up there and sing for me! Make it a bonny one!”

“Are ye a pop singer or a rock singer? I’ll have a different opinion of ye depending on the answer, ken?”

Then, another warm whisper. A hand on her knee.  

“Ye don’t strike me as a singer, Sasssenach.” 

Claire turned to face him then, her voice equally quiet when his eyes met hers. “And what do I strike you as?”

“A lass who struggles with her balance, for one,” he replied, “and who’s bad with awkward introductions and saying thank you, for two.” His eyes never left hers, but the crinkles on the edges only deepened with his smirk. Claire scoffed and protested, moving her leg away from his under the table, but his grasp tightened imperceptibly and his thumb was stroking the inside of her knee. “Maybe one day I won’t have to save ye from falling, and I’ll get to hear ye sing a little better than what I just saw.” Taking a swig from his glass, he continued to watch her. Claire started to object to his ideas of her, but Jamie’s attention was called away by Joe asking questions about his work. 

An hour passed by with many more drinks and much more laughter, with plans to meet up again next week. Joe left the party first to get back to his apartment to prepare for work the next day, followed by Rupert who claimed he needed to be up early to go into the shop. Soon it was just Angus and Geillis, who were most definitely going home together, and Claire and Jamie, who were most definitely not. 

“So what is it you actually do? I’ve been sitting next to you for a few hours now without a single notion of who you are besides your name.” They were sitting facing each other as best they could, trading stories and getting to know one another while Geillis and Angus got almost too close for decency. 

“Och, it’s no’ much. I opened a little bookstore in the area a few years back, and Angus and Rupert are my employees. More than that, I suppose, since I’ve known them my whole life. The bookstore was more a passion project a few years back, ken? Then one day, I decided I loved it more than engineering and left it all behind to give my all to the books.” Jamie’s eyes sparkled with mention of the bookstore, and Claire wanted to see him look like that forever. 

“What kind of stock do you have?” 

Jamie’s eyes positively twinkled. “Lots of antiques and first editions. I learned how to repair and restore old books when I was in college in Edinburgh. We carry the Times best seller list and lots of newer titles as well, but there’s nothing I love like an old book.” He smiled at her, and she melted. “Actually, there’s a favorite of mine--”

“Claire, get on up here!” The voice from the front boomed again, and she sent Jamie a wink as she scooted out of the booth. He stared at her dumbstruck, but released his hold on her leg. 

“Since you said my last song was horrible,” she teased over her shoulder as she walked to the front. 

He gave a hearty laugh and yelled to her, “I never said it was horrible! I said it wasn’t good!”

Claire had been coming to this pub for years now with Geillis and Joe for drinks and karaoke night. She was on a first-name basis with the regular DJs, and everyone knew her regular songs. Tonight was different. Tonight, she had met Jamie. She whispered to the DJ, walked on stage, and pulled out the piano bench. In the time it had taken Claire to move up front, Jamie followed suit just behind her to a table at the front. He had noticed the piano of course, but paid it no attention. Who would play a piano in a pub on karaoke night?

Claire would, evidently. She sat down, rolled her head a few times along her shoulders, and looked toward their booth. Jamie saw her fear when he wasn’t where she thought he’d be. He gave her a small wave, hoping the motion would draw her attention. She noticed, and flashed him the most brilliant smile he’d ever seen. She took a deep breath, and without playing, began to sing. 

“Grab me by my ankles, I’ve been flying for too long; I couldn’t hide from the thunder in a sky full of song. I want you so badly but you could be anyone; I couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song. Hold me down, I’m so tired now; Aim your arrow at the sky. Take me down, I’m too tired now, leave me where I lie.”

The accompaniment was simple and melodic, Claire’s voice strong and dark. Jamie watched her play, the lyrics not lost on him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t do anything but watch her. His chin rested on his hand, his elbow propped on the table. In that moment, he wished the night would never end but if it had to, then may he have many more with the enchanting woman before him. 

Jamie didn’t realize she had stopped playing until the crowd began to cheer -- the only thing to exist for him, was her. She stood, pushed in the bench, and put the microphone stand back where it belonged like she had just done the most normal thing in the world. She walked toward him, slowing the closer she got to him. 

“Jamie, you haven’t moved once.” One step closer. “Well, you’d bloody well say something.” She folded her hands across her chest with a sigh, eyes downcast at the sticky floor. 

He blinked, stood, and brought a hand up to brush away a particularly unruly curl. A thumb caressed rosy apples, dark eyelids fluttered up to meet glittering oceans. 

“Christ, Claire. Yer the most incredible woman I’ve ever seen.”

[aer-in-wanderland]

구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed - Lost in Translation EP02

Back by, possibly not popular, but certainly very enthusiastic demand: my sister’s and my continued adventures in mistranslation and cultural subtext. You can find EP01 here. Buckle up and settle in for another monster post because, wow, a lot happened in this episode. Contains spoilers. 

Prologue

We open with a sweeping view of Baekdudaegan as Yeon narrates about his past as the god who presided over it. For context, Baekdudaegan is the biggest and most famous mountain range in Korea, taking up an enormous swath of the Korean peninsula (to the extent that it’s often referred to as its ‘spine’ or ‘backbone’). So Yeon wasn’t lying when he said he was a ‘major’ mountain god. ;) 

Yeon: You could say these were my Leeds Days. I was the master of Baekdudaegan, a mountain god who controlled the wind and rain,* and a gumiho who was, from the start, of a different caliber than the mongrel foxes you see in Hometown of Legends.  ...Or, I was.”

[*Note: Can also be taken to mean ‘the natural elements’ in general.]

When Yeon refers to his ‘glory days,’ the term he uses is ‘Leeds Era’ (리즈시절). Originally a sporting term for the height of a footballer’s career, in Korean, the expression has come to be used to describe a person’s bygone glory days. The modern figure of speech (complete with English loan word) makes for a funny counterpoint to the Yeon we see on screen and recalls the mint-chocolate loving American TV show enthusiast we’ve known him as so far. 

The other modern reference he makes is to Hometown of Legends (전설의 고향), which has been the title of numerous dramas and movies (1977-2018) centered around Korean myths and legends. This is basically the equivalent of an alien referencing the X-files. Overall, the narration serves to remind us just how modern our gumiho has become and clashes humorously with the visual onscreen.

Yeon’s above narration concludes with the first appearance of little Ah Eum, who immediately proceeds to pet the mighty master of Baekdudaegan as if he were her pet dog pfft (thus the ‘....or I was.’) 

As an aside, tvN released some backstory information revealing that Ah Eum had gone to find Yeon in order to pray for rain. Which means she pet him in spite of that lol We also know from the past-life sequence in episode 10 that she had actually been warned never to venture anywhere near his mountain because a 1000 year old gumiho lived there. It’s almost as if her guardians don’t know her at all...

For anyone keeping track, Ah Eum uses banmal with Yeon from the very beginning. We find out why later. As a princess (even one who had been discarded), she’s used to outranking everyone around her and therefore speaking almost exclusively in banmal. To be fair, with her temperament, Yeon being a 1000+ year old mountain god probably just wasn’t enough to get him an automatic pass from her. Point for Ah Eum/Ji Ah character continuity. 

Yeon: If I could rewrite* my past just once, I would return to this moment without hesitation. So that that child could never find me. 

[*Note: Literally, ‘A/S my past,’ which I’m pretty sure has its roots in computer usage. So again, thoroughly modern vocabulary from the former master of Baekdudaegan.]

We transition from young to grown Ah Eum with a sweep of the Red Umbrella. According to tvN again, this umbrella was actually a gift from Ah Eum to Yeon, and it’s also the same umbrella Yeon still carries everywhere. It’s somewhat poetic, then, that it was this umbrella that lead Ji Ah to him. So, a meaningful item on multiple fronts. 

Yeon: Some called it, ‘the scandal of the age that shook Baekdudaegan.’ To think, a mountain god who had given his heart to a human... Nowadays, it would have felt like a disciplinary hearing, but I didn’t care a whit. I liked her [presence] permeating my woods. 

As you might have guessed, this love story ends in tragedy. Someone stole her life. Once she crossed the River of Three Crossings, I would never be able to see her again. I couldn’t hold on to her, but nor could I bear to let her go...so I resorted to abusing my power. 

The BGM playing as Yeon narrates the ending of his tragic story is ‘The Parting at the River of Three Crossings,’ which I think of as the epic love theme of TotNT alongside ‘Sad Fate.’ Why do I keep mentioning the BGM? No reason, other than that it interests me. ;)

On a linguistic note, Yeon’s line, ‘Someone stole her life’ caught my attention from the first time I watched this due to his unusual usage of the word ‘life.’ Korean has multiple words for ‘life.’ The one that would typically be used in this context is ‘moksoom’ (목숨), which I think of as having the nuance of one’s life force. So to steal one’s ‘moksoom’ would mean to kill them. Instead, he uses ‘insaeng’ (인생), which is more like the life one leads. To steal someone’s ‘insaeng’ sounds more like a case of identity theft. As we find out later, that actually is what Imoogi did, and this hinted at that linguistically. 

I’m not sure how well this translated, but the gesture of Yeon kneeling is both epic and heartbreaking. Kneeling is a very weighty gesture in Korea, so for Yeon to use his godly powers to freeze the very River to the Afterlife only to kneel and beg for one last moment with Ah Eum is just... It’s a momentous enough gesture for Taluipa, the ultimate stickler for rules, to make an exception and grant his request. 

The fox bead: In Japanese lore, a fox’s bead is often akin to its life force, but that’s clearly not the case for Yeon. In Korean lore, fox beads are sometimes called ‘the treasure of a fox’s lips,’ since the bead is supposedly located within the fox’s mouth (and can thus be stolen/gifted with a kiss). Some tellings claim that someone who swallows a fox’s bead gains understanding of all things and phenomena in the universe, while others say they grant the bearer’s wishes. 

Yeon continues his narration, describing how he’s encountered women with Ah Eum’s face over the centuries, but that none of them were her. For anyone interested, you can find my hot take on that here.

Okay, can we please have a spin-off of Yeon hunting down folklore monsters in Japanese-occupied Korea Gaksital (2012)-style?

Fun fact: Based on some of the still cuts they released, there was actually a deleted scene in which Yeon pulled the late-Joseon era Ah Eum look-alike aside, checked her for the fox bead, and then erased her memories. (And by ‘fun’ I mean, ‘why would you delete that??’)

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Iconic.

Fun fact: Lee Dong Wook picked this as the most memorable line of the drama due to it’s thematic echoing across multiple episodes. 

On the topic of the tranquilizer, there was a deleted scene in episode 1 in which Ji Ah very openly 'borrowed’ it from Shin Joo’s vet clinic because she already suspected Yeon was a fox: fox fur, Fox Ridge... She was taking a pretty big gamble though since he’s not exactly your average fox. 

It’s worth noting that Ji Ah doesn’t say she was ‘looking’ for Yeon (although she was, because she’s a go-get-‘em kind of girl); she says she was ‘waiting’ for him. I took this to mean she was waiting for him to return and make good on his threat to kill her (since, not only had she not forgotten, she’d been actively sticking her nose into anything remotely supernatural or unexplainable), at which point, presumably, she planned to turn the tables on him. 

Episode 02 Title Card: I’ve Been Waiting for You

For anyone wondering how Ji Ah managed to get Yeon back up to his penthouse, apparently she told the security desk her boyfriend was drunk and boldly took him back up in the elevator (presumably with help) haha

Possibly coincidentally, Yeon’s first line to Ji Ah when he regains consciousness is the same as his first line to little Ah Eum: ‘Do you want to die?’ (minus the sageuk speak)

Ji Ah’s line, “I wouldn’t be sipping tea here if I was worried about that,” would more literally be: “If I valued my life, would I be sitting here drinking flower tea?”

Lol Ji Ah. “Want a cup?” is such a classy power play. 

Sub: “After the stunt you pulled, you’re actually offering me tea?” Ha. Also, what Yeon literally says is: “You pulled that variety-esque stunt, and your next line is what? ‘A cup of tea’?” ‘Variety’ here is an English loan word meant in the sense of ‘variety shows’ (ex. Running Man or 1 Night 2 Days), though to my knowledge, no one has ever been tranquilized on one. 

The following exchange was littered with enough small things I would have changed that I’ll just translate the whole thing here for reference:

Ji Ah: When a man and a woman have that level of physical contact, don’t they usually also drink tea or eat meals together, too? These days, the whole pure and noble act doesn’t go far.

Yeon: Whether it does or not, when you’re at a disadvantage, isn’t it considered common courtesy to come [to the table] having put aside either your pride or your self-esteem [i.e. at least one of the two]? 

Ji Ah: Listen until the end before you determine who’s at a disadvantage.

Yeon: (Nodding) In exchange, if my thinking still doesn’t change, you’ll pay the price for having tested me. 

Ji Ah: Price?

Yeon: Your sight (literally ‘eyes’). I’ll be taking your eyes that have seen what they shouldn’t have.

Ji Ah: Deal. (literally, ‘call’ as in poker)

Rang & Yoo Ri Crash a Funeral

In the off chance you were wondering why this is basically the only time we see Rang driving Yoo Ri and not the other way around, it’s because Yoo Ri is ‘in character’ as the daughter of a major conglomerate and wouldn’t be expected to drive herself if there was another person in the car. In Korea, there’s a whole code of etiquette around who sits where in the car. 

Instead of ‘Lee Rang-nim’ the subs have Yoo Ri addressing Rang as ‘sir.’ That just strikes me as so distant and cold...

To my thinking, this scene was peak ‘Hoket-dan.’ It was nearly the same level of over-the-top campy as some of the old supervillains. If I’m being perfectly honest, I was worried at this point that Rang’s character would turn out to be equally 2D. Joke’s on me though, ‘cause this later became a hilarious character quirk when Sajang says to Rang, “It can’t be that you came to enjoy watching me die?” and Rang responds, “I love doing that! Look, I even brought popcorn. I even go about visiting funeral homes and stuff on purpose.” lol

Ji Ah’s Gamble

Okay, but Yeon actually took her up on tea haha I love it. 

Subs: “So you’re a fox that’s pretending to be human.” The word they use here (and throughout the drama) is ‘doongap’ (둔갑), which is literally ‘to assume the form of.’ Unfortunately, there’s no verb in English that neatly conveys that, so this gets subbed a lot of ways. I’ve mostly been translating it as ‘transform,’ but that’s more properly ‘byeonshin’ (변신). Sometimes with translation, the best option still isn’t great. 

It’s also worth noting that this is actually not what Yeon is doing here, since he sees those sorts of tricks as beneath him. Yeon is a cheon’ho; his human form is his own. 

Sub: “What a lame reaction. A normal human being would scream...” More literally: “What kind of reaction is so lacking in sincerity? Generally, if [you’re] a human, I should at least get a scream...” Again, both ‘reaction’ and ‘scream’ are in English, and, somewhat humorously, Yeon uses the verb + juda (주다) form, implying he was hoping to elicit a scream with his reveal pfft

Sub: “No. I knew something like you would exist somewhere out in this world. I started directing a TV show about urban legends so I could catch you myself.” This is mostly fine, but what she says more literally is: “No. I knew something like you would exist somewhere in this world. In order to catch [one] myself, I buried my bones in a TV show about urban legends.” To ‘bury ones bones’ means ‘to devote oneself entirely to’ and implies more drive and dedication than in the sub. The subject is once again omitted, so she could mean Yeon, but I think she actually means ‘things like Yeon’ more generally. 

Yeon’s line to Ji Ah when she asks him about their long ago encounter was subbed as: “I followed the smell of blood, and I ended up saving a little kid. But I can see that she’s very ungrateful.”  I would translate this as:

Yeon: I smelled blood and followed it, and ended up saving some little girl (lit. young child), but now I see that that child is trying to repay a favor with enmity.

The expression Yeon uses here, to ‘repay a favor (eunhye) with enmity (wonsoo),’ is a common turn of phrase. It’s the Korean equivalent of ‘biting the hand that feeds you,’ or ‘repaying good with ill.’ Considering eunhye has actual consequences for Yeon, he doesn’t seem all that put out. 

Lol Something about Lee Dong Wook’s delivery of Yeon’s line, “So you lost your parents...” reminds me of the Oscar Wilde quote: ‘To lose one parent may be regarded as misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.’ 

Sub: “I’m not threatening you. I’m taking my chances.” This should be: “You’re mistaken. I’m not threatening; I’m gambling.” This turn of phrase is rather clever in Korean since ‘threat’ (협박) and ‘gamble’ (도박) are only one syllable off. In terms of the subs, while ‘gambling’ and ‘taking my chances’ are similar on the surface, they’re different enough in nuance that I would consider this a mistranslation. ‘Gambling’ implies an informed, calculated risk, whereas ‘taking my chances’ gives the impression of improvisation and leaving everything up to luck. 

The Funeral Parlour

This scene is Rang in a nutshell. I actually don’t have much to comment on linguistically, but it was definitely an important scene for establishing Rang’s MO and motivations. 

Shin Joo & Yeon

Yeon and Shin Joo meet up at the ice cream parlour to debrief on the situation with Ji Ah, and it’s cute how Shin Joo is more indignant over what went down than Yeon.

Subs: “It’s like we exist to repay people for their kindness.” This has been grossly paraphrased due to lack of cultural context. His line is literally: 

Shin Joo: It’s not as if we’re magpies meticulously repaying our eunhye! Geez, how long do we have to be bound by that sort of premodern contractual relationship?” 

This is another Korean folktale reference, this time to the story of The Grateful Magpies. I elaborated on it a bit here.

Yeon: “It’s old-fashioned but romantic. And it's also a fox’s dignity.”  ‘Romantic’ here is the French loan word ‘romang’  (로망). In contrast to the English ‘romantic’ (which is also used), ‘romang’ is used to refer to ‘anything marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized.’ ‘Dignity’ could also be translated as ‘grace of character.’ Yeon’s preoccupation with style/swagger/dignity is enough of a recurring theme (and occasional joke) that it features in his character profile.

For anyone keeping track, Shin Joo refers to Ah Eum as ‘Ah Eum agasshi.’ ‘Agasshi’ meaning ‘miss’ or ‘lady.’

Shin Joo’s line is subbed, “Does she bother you?” but it should be: ‘Does it bother you?’ where ‘it’ refers to the fact that Ji Ah so closely resembles Ah Eum. 

Sub: “I’ve seen tons of people who looked like her for hundreds of years.” It’s actually not ‘tons of people,’ but ‘a couple’/‘several’ over the course of hundreds of years. Let’s be honest, people as pretty as Jo Bo Ah just aren’t born every day. ;)

Yeon’s line may be overly blunt, but it’s sweet that he calls Shin Joo, ‘Shin Joo-ya.’

Back over to Ji Ah. The way this scene suddenly switches from sentimental to horrifying is great. I also like that it’s unclear when she fell asleep. The boundary between reality and unreality is as blurred for the viewers as it is for Ji Ah, and it leaves us with a similar sense of disquiet.

In case it wasn’t already clear, it’s the tooth on this skull that leads Ji Ah to Eohwa Island. She sees a skull with an identical tooth in the news and goes to investigate. 

Afterlife Immigration Office

LOL Hyeonuiong briefing the newly departed on death via powerpoint is hilarious. The powerpoint reads: ‘A Guide to Hell for the Dead, Presenter: Hyeonuiong.’  The red sigil on the right bears the characters ‘十王’ (the Ten Kings), so I guess this is an official, Afterlife-approved slideshow. heh

Side note: I’m impressed with the way this show seamlessly shifts between genres. We went from emotional to creepy to funny without it feeling forced or jarring (or at least, it didn’t to me). 

The powerpoint (complete with webtoon) continues cheerily: “Hell! What is the Afterlife?” / “The 10 Types of Hell.” pfft Who made these slides? Whoever they are, point to them.

Subs: “You know King Hades, right?” WOW This is bordering on cultural whitewashing if you ask me. This should be King Yeomra (aka King Enma). He’s one of the Ten Kings of the Afterlife, and quite arguably the most famous. 

The sub here says Taluipa is Yeomra’s older sister, which is understandable since the antiquated word Hyeonuiong uses (누이), doesn’t specify older or younger. We find out in the final episode, though, that Taluipa is actually Yeomra’s younger sister. As far as I’m aware, this is not part of the original lore.

Lol Yeon being a drama king: “I’m going to take revenge! Thanks to her, my obligatory military service has already gone on for 600 years~!” (You’re not fooling anyone, sir)

“No way! A man’s hair is his life! My red-brown...” Fun fact: It was actually Lee Dong Wook’s idea to make Yeon’s hair red-brown, both as a nod to him being a fox, and to give him a more otherworldly look. 

Why do the gods keep saying reincarnation is random when everyone we see reincarnated kept their face??

‘Oh my god” lol Watching kdrama characters react in English never gets old. Possibly because there’s something exaggerated or overdramatic in the conscious decision to use English instead of Korean.

A++ response from Yeon. I saw something going around to the effect of, ‘this show really just said love is love,’ and I love that. Point to the writer. 

The BGM here is once again ‘Thread Rings.’ Given where it keeps being used, I’m fairly certain they’re somehow related to Ji Ah/Ah Eum... (So I guess there actually is a reason I’m paying attention to the BGM ;p).  Lee Dong Wook just disclosed the behind the scenes scoop on the rings in his latest VLIVE.

This bulgasari is such a mild-mannered person. Like Shin Joo, he calls Ji Ah ‘PD-nim’ and speaks politely and deferentially. 

Not for anything, but I really liked Jo Bo Ah’s delivery of Ji Ah’s line, ‘I saw a corpse.’ Her little mannerisms really sold Ji Ah to me as a person and not just a character.  

Bulgasari: “That dream, can you sell it to me? I want to play the lottery.” In addition to the concept of symbolism in dreams, Koreans also have a common notion that dreams can be bought and sold. It’s funny, though, when you consider he’s probably just planning to eat the dream. 

I love whenever Taluipa calls Yeon, ‘Yeon-ah.’ She’s normally so prickly that it’s notable when she's affectionate. Also, seeing as Yeon is older than 95% of our characters, there aren’t many who might address him like this with the affectionate diminutive. 

Heh, Yeon refers to Ji Ah’s favor as a ‘civil complaint.’

When Yeon asks Ji Ah for her parent’s times and dates of birth, what he’s actually asking for is their ‘saju’ (literally, ‘four pillars’). You can find my explanation here.

The Snail Bride

Bok Hye Ja: “It’s the first time he’s brought someone (literally ‘a person’).” Normally this would mean, ‘it’s the first time he’s brought a guest,’ but in this case, I’m fairly certain she means, ‘it’s the first time he’s brought a human.’ ;)

“I won’t ask you to understand.” This was another exchange that made me love Ji Ah. I found her frank and sincere apology refreshing.

On a personal note, I loved watching Yeon recalibrate his estimation of Ji Ah in this scene. And it was also a scene in which viewers got to recalibrate their impressions of Yeon. Yeon is feigning indifference, but he makes a point of asking after Ji Ah’s feelings, which is not insignificant. It’s also in sharp contrast to what we’ve seen of Rang so far.

Oh my gosh, THAT PUFFBALL DOG (and it’s name is Bean-ie) XD

Minor detail, but where did Shin Joo get his necklace? Wait. OH MY GOD. Shin Joo is the Aquaman of TotNT. Yeon gets to be Batman and Superman rolled into one and Shin Joo’s power is that he ‘talks to fish animals.’ Dead. 

Lol Ji Ah watching Yeon eat. I feel like this is a running joke. In the tales, gumiho notoriously eat people’s livers, so seeing him eat normal food must be a bit eye-opening. 

The text description for Shin Don was left untranslated in the version we’re watching but it reads: In A History of Goryeo, there’s record of Shin Don, a monk from the time of King Gongmin’s reign (1351-1374 C.E.), having been an old fox.

Subs: “Is it true that the monk of Goryeo Dynasty was a fox?” Us: ‘Yes, the one monk in all of Goryeo and for all of Goryeo. Guess he’d have to have been a fox in that case.’ This should probably have been translated as: "So then, Shin Don...is it a fact that the Goryeo monk Shin Don was a fox?”

Ji Ah: “Oh my god.” heh

Do You Really Want to See It?

Wait, they walked all the way from Insadong to Digital Media City? Okay, this is one of the (few) pitfalls of being fairly familiar with Seoul. Sometimes it’s really obvious when two locations don’t connect and then it pulls me out of the drama. I think we’re supposed to believe that the Snail Bride is in the vicinity of Ji Ah’s broadcast station, seeing as her team are lunchtime regulars, but the the two neighborhoods are nowhere near each other.

Yeon’s line in the subs here is: “A. I’m a busy man. B. We may currently be living in the same world, but there is a big difference between where we come from.” Personally, I would have translated this as: “Firstly, I haven’t got that much free time. Secondly, we may be unavoidably living mingled together, but the world I belong to and the world you belong to are incontrovertibly different.”

Subs: “Those who got a peek at my world ended up going crazy or dying young.” More literally: “In the past, there have been those who got a glimpse of the world’s secrets. Well, most of them either went mad or had their lives cut short.”

Minor detail, but Ji Ah’s response subbed as: “I don’t care. I’ll stay out of your way. Just don’t disappear.” should more literally be: “Just don’t disappear from my sight (lit. ‘from before me’).”

The sub on Ji Ah’s line here reads: “She (Sae Rom) and I both had nightmares.” What she actually says is: “Me and my hubae also had nightmares,” meaning that she (Ji Ah) and Jae Hwan had nightmares in addition to Sae Rom. Which is why Yeon refers to them as ‘contagious’. 

Okay, is it just me, or does LDW look exceptionally unreal in this scene? 

Bulgasari

I’m not familiar with the actor who plays the bulgasari (pretty sure he’s a new face), but he did a great job making his movements uncanny here. The firey CG effects are fun too.

Heck yeah! Yeon sure knows how to make an entrance. Seeing as how he instructed Ji Ah on what to do, I’m pretty sure he was there the whole time......show-off.

Once again, I’m digging the fight scene underscored by ‘The Uninvited.’ I would happily watch an entire series that’s just Yeon and Ji Ah solving supernatural cases and hunting down baddies who disturb the peace. 

The Smirk™ XD  I’m 90% sure this was another LDW ad lib.  

Lol Yeon. Subs: “Really? Then am I the jerk here?” More literally: “Really? Then I guess I’m the only bad guy, huh?” 

On a linguistic note, the bulgasari speaks to Yeon in old-timey speech, once again playing up their mutual identity as creatures of lore. 

It’s only at this point that, prompted by Ji Ah, Yeon finally reveals the bulgasari’s identity. This is accompanied by a brief chyron telling us that they appear when the world is in disorder, and Ji Ah supplies that they eat nightmares. 

To elaborate a bit, bulgasari are one of the better known Korean creatures of lore. There are two different sets of hanja for them: (bulgasari 不可殺伊 ‘can-not-kill’) and (bulgasari 火可殺伊 ‘fire-can-kill’), which explains why, depending on the telling, they’re either un-killable or only die by fire. In traditional lore, feeding them metal makes them grow larger and stronger, which, while not the case in TotNT, is probably what inspired the coin-gobbling. 

Subs: “Yes they are especially fond of broadcasting studios, which are packed with people. Eating metal reveals their true identities.” That subtitle went a bit sideways. It’s not that they like broadcast stations in particular, but crowded places like broadcast stations. So it should read: “They like places with lots of people, like the broadcast station, and if you feed them metal, they reveal their true colors.”

Okay, Yeon’s line that’s subtitled as, “The hostage will answer,” is more literally: “Hey, hostage. Try answering me.” It’s worth noting that, while he calls her ‘injil-bun’ (injil = hostage + bun = the polite word for a person), he’s still speaking to her in banmal, so he’s once again being cheeky. 

It’s taking some license, but I would translate Yeon’s question to Ji Ah here as: “In this moment,* what exactly can you do other than rely on me to save you?” which is essentially what he means. [*Note: literally, ‘at this timing,’ and once again, ‘timing’ is in English.]

We get a series of short scenes lining up some of the side characters who will become our key players on the island: the fisherman find the severed head, Ji Ah grills Detective Baek about the case, and Rang approaches Pyung Hee with his usual devil’s bargain pitch. I didn’t really notice anything here that I think is important enough to the central plot or characters that it’s worth commenting on (especially given how massively long this post is already), so I’m just going to call it good and move right along. ;)

Pfft I definitely wasn’t expecting the bulgasari to be literally chilling in Yeon’s freezer (not that he had a choice). This is somewhat interesting given they’re typically thought to be weak to fire, not ice. 

Subs: “I’ll die even if I tell you where he is.” More literally: “Whether I die in this way [by Yeon’s hand], or that [by Rang’s], it is all the same.” 

Brother Complex

Sub: “Don’t even think of hurting her.” More literally: “Just try touching one hair on her head.”

Oh my gosh Rang’s face ㅠㅠ This was the first time I felt Kim Beom really got to display his acting chops in this role, and boy, was I glad to see it. This was also when I knew Rang was going to make me cry. 

Yeon: “You’re acting like this because you lack affection.” The expression Yeon uses is ‘aejeong gyeolpip,’ which literally does mean ‘affection lack/want/absence,’  but I would have translated it as ‘affection-starved,’ since saying Rang ‘lacks affection’ could also be interpreted to mean Rang is incapable of expressing affection. 

Yeon: “Why’s that?” Lol Lee Dong Wook. Also, this one line is cheekily in polite speech.

Subs: “Just because of a woman you gave up your position as a mountain spirit, left the mountain, and you even...” More literally: “Just because of one mere human woman you gave up your position as a mountain god, turned your back on the mountain, and..!!” 

Yeon: “Yes, I know. I even abandoned you.” Rang-ah~ ㅠㅠ I recently received an ask as to whether or not I believed Yeon had truly abandoned Rang, which I answered here.

Oof, Yeon giving Rang advice as an older brother. In Korea, nagging is seen as a sign of affection. You may recall Ji Ah was very excited for her dad to nag her about her boyfriend in episode 12. 

Sub: “You crazy fool.” Rang literally calls his brother a ‘michin nom,’ ‘michin’ meaning ‘crazy.’ ‘Nom’ is a pronoun that, depending on how it’s used, can mean anything from ‘guy,’ to ‘jerk,’ to ‘bastard.’ 

Sub: “I don’t need to know.” Actually: “There’s no need [for you to tell me].” The two are subtly different. Yeon’s saying he’ll find out on his own, not that he doesn’t want to know.

Fun fact: Kim Beom said in his script reading interview (before they started filming) that he was a bit worried about his onscreen dynamic with Lee Dong Wook because, while Rang has to hate Yeon, LDW is a hyung that KB likes so much in real life. What a cutie. 

We cut briefly over to Ji Ah on the phone with Jae Hwan, asking him to look after Sae Rom while she chases down the skull lead. 

As an aside here, Ji Ah calls Sae Rom, ‘Kim-jak’ (short for ‘jakga,’ meaning ‘writer’). In Korea, it’s common to refer to someone by their role or title. This might indicate distance, but Ji Ah’s shortening it makes the term familiar and speaks of their camaraderie.  In the subtitles, this has become, ‘Ms. Kim,’ which is oddly distant given their frenemyship. 

The Island

Is it just me, or does it feel like there should have been a scene here explaining how and why Yeon came to be on the boat? I’m assuming it got deleted due to time constraints, but I feel like it was needed. 

Pfft The way Ji Ah pops up from behind Yeon, cutting comically into the dramatic shot of Lee Dong Wook’s windswept profile + BGM was great.

In case it wasn’t already apparent, Kimite patches are used to alleviate sea sickness, so this is further undermining the mood of a second ago haha

Yeon’s line is subbed: “I’d like to keep it to myself,” but this should more literally be: ‘Let’s each work individually/play it solo.’ 

Sub: “No, thank you.”  What Yeon actually says: “Hard pass.” hahaha (Literally: ‘I’ll immediately/urgently decline,’ but tonally, ‘hard pass’ is closer). 

The subs have Yeon’s line as: “You need to be careful what you pay attention to.” I would have translated this as: “If that’s the reason [you’ve come], go back. You mustn’t recklessly lend an ear [to such things].” His tone and phrasing are both surprisingly gentle. 

Subs: “My guts keep telling me, that this is a very suspicious combination.” Well, my guts keep telling me, that this is a very suspicious sub haha I would have translated Yeon’s voiceover as:

Yeon: The same boat...the same island...a woman with the same face as that girl. My instincts speak to me relentlessly, telling me there’s something amiss about this combination.

Pfft The contrast between Ji Ah's dismount from the boat and Yeon’s. 

Lol Yeon’s ‘excuse me’ was totally rude 

For the record, from the moment Yeon sets foot on the island, he speaks to everyone in banmal. That’s bad form towards any stranger, but it’s especially rude considering their age. Sure, Yeon’s way older, but they don’t know that. 

Ji Ah mouthing “What?” in English haha

Yeon clocking the effectively creepy villagers. Turns out the right BGM and camerawork can make anything creepy. Point to the director.

Settling in on the Island

Ji Ah’s line subbed as, “I thought you didn’t want to be involved,” should more properly be: “I thought you just said we should each play it solo?”

Yeon’s line is similarly mis-subbed as: “I changed my mind. Don’t let it bother you.” What he actually says is much ruder: “I’ll do what I want! Butt out.” Which explains Ji Ah’s affront heh

Lol Yeon walking right in front of the camera. Anyone who has ever had a pet recognized this moment.

I love how Yeon is being completely tactless and insensitive but then grudgingly course-corrects when Ji Ah glares daggers at him. 

Fisherman (subs): “It gives me a bad feeling in my mouth.” Excuse me, what? haha The line is: “The more I think about it, the more it bothers me.”

Lol Ji Ah: “In the documentaries I watched, they say digging holes is your speciality” (complete with digging gesture).  

Fun fact: Ji Ah blocking the way with her leg and Yeon burrowing under it was something Jo Bo Ah and Lee Dong Wook came up with themselves. Ji Ah’s line was scripted, but I’m nearly positive Yeon’s comeback of, “Burrowing is my speciality,” was an ad lib by Lee Dong Wook. Once again, casting Lee Dong Wook is the gift that keeps on giving. 

WAIT. Subs: “You can’t go.” / “Borrowing is my specialty.” Hahaha What even? Cheon’ho Lee Yeon: professional mooch. 

The way we then cut to Yeon ‘burrowing’ into a freezer of ice cream is just perfect. Point to the director. 

Once again, Yeon is talking to all the village elders in banmal.

“You have a terrible service mentality.” pfft

OH. Ji Ah’s response to the misogynistic fisherman is just A++ 

Her line here is literally: “Oops, I’m afraid I’m overflowing with ‘jeong.’”  ‘Jeong’ (情) can be a little hard to translate. It literally means ‘emotion’ or ‘affection,’ but the way it’s used linguistically can be a bit complex. The sub here was: “I’m afraid I was too generous,” which I actually think is pretty decent. The turn of phrase in Korean though, using the word ‘overflowing’ while over-pouring on the man, made her response doubly witty.

Hah. I love the way Yeon just raises his eyebrows when he comes out of the market and spots her.

Subs: “How dare a witch from outside come here and...” He actually calls her a ‘michin nyeon’ meaning ‘crazy bitch,’ so the line is: “Crazy bitch, where do you think this is that you dare...”

Ji Ah’s line that begins, “If you’re going to hit me...” is just SO great. We stan (1) queen. 

Subs: “Nice. You’re tough.” This is a bit hard to translate. Yeon’s line is literally: “Oh~ What ggang is like this?” ‘Ggang’ can be translated as ‘guts,’ ‘tenacity,’ or ‘persistence.’ Naver dictionary describes it as: ‘a personal trait found in one who never gives in, when put in whatever difficulties,’ which is so spot on for Ji Ah. I might approximate this as: “Woah~ Just how gutsy are you?” 

The way he's just like, ‘I approve. Here, have a shikhye~’ is mildly adorable. Did you buy that for her, Yeon, or were you planning on having two but decided she’d earned one? haha

Ji Ah’s response is equally great. The sub says: “That was nothing.” which isn’t a bad option for a subtitle, but what she literally says is ‘saesam-seureopge’ (새삼스럽게), where ‘saesam’ means ‘now? at this point? after all this time?’ So she’s basically saying, ‘You’re bothering with that observation, over that little stunt, after everything else you’ve seen me do?’ haha

“I plan to mooch off of you as much as possible.” Pfft I love how Yeon actually moves to stand behind her just to underscore the point. That’ll be Lee Dong Wook again. 

Wow, these are some sketchy old people.

Subs: “People aren’t the only ones with eyes and mouths.” What he actually says is, “Are people the only ones with eyes and ears?”

The Forest Spirit

Wow, the lighting in this scene is just A++ Point to the lighting team (or is that just natural? It feels almost too pretty to have just been natural). 

I was too distracted by Lee Dong Wook to notice the first time, but Ji Ah’s face when Yeon shushes her is great haha

On a linguistic note, this scene is one of the few in which Yeon code switches to archaic speech as he’s addressing the tree spirit. It’s the linguistic equivalent of him putting on his ‘mountain god’ hat. (He still speaks to Ji Ah normally, though). 

We cut briefly to the mudang (shamaness), and I’m sorry, I know this is a traditional way of speaking, but it always makes me laugh because it’s so over-the-top.

The spirit addresses Ji Ah as ‘agasshi,’ which would be strange if she was actually a modern young girl, but makes sense for a spirit who’s at least 600. Overall, it helps to remind viewers of her supernatural-ness. 

Yeon telling Ji Ah she did a good job is so cute. I feel like they’re rapidly becoming a quirky tag-team duo and I’m 100% here for it. 

Mudang: “His body returned to shore before his head did! Your father!” This line was explained in the backstory collection.

Okay, the mudang needs to dial it back like 10 levels here. 

Possibly just me, but Yeon swatting the air with his hand as he peers into the cave struck me as vaguely fox-like. 

Minor detail again, but the chyron here is subbed as ‘Jangsansa Cave.’ It’s actually ‘Jangsan sagool,’ not ‘Jangsansa gool.’ ‘Sagool’ is written with the characters 蛇窟 meaning ‘snake hole.’

Lol Yeon freezing mid-motion when Ji Ah tells him to stay put. That is 110% Lee Dong Wook’s sense of humour. Praise the drama gods for Lee Dong Wook - this show wouldn’t have been half as fun without him.

Fun fact: This cave is actually intimately tied to Ah Eum’s past with Imoogi and the story of how she came to be his ‘bride’ (read: sacrifice). I translated the tvN description here. I actually think this was fairly important information, so it’s a shame it wasn’t covered in the drama. 

Sleepover with a Gumiho 

When Ji Ah asks Yeon why he’s insisting on staying at Pyung Hee’s, his response is subbed as: “I have my reasons.” This is more properly: “You don’t need to know.”

Sub: “We don’t eat that crap!” Yeon’s line doesn’t have a subject, but this should properly be: “I don’t eat that crap!” We know from Yeou Nui that some gumiho in this world actually do eat liver. 

“Heard of the Chinese liver fluke?” Ha. Yeon literally says ‘kan distoma,’ i.e. ‘liver distomiasis’ or ‘liver fluke’. While there was a well-known outbreak in China, it isn’t inherently Chinese. There’s a Korean word for it too (간흡충), but once again, Yeon opts for the loan word, adding further humour to the gumiho disavowing liver consumption - for health reasons, no less pffft

The BGM playing as Yeon sees Ah Eum in Ji Ah is once again ‘Parting at the River of Three Crossings.’

Bok Hye Ja’s line to Shin Joo is subbed as: “He went to the island to find this reincarnated girl?” The word she uses is actually ‘gakshi,’ which is an antiquated word generally meaning ‘bride’ (as in ‘the Snail Bride’), but it can also just mean ‘young woman.’

For the record, the Snail Bride speaks to Shin Joo in banmal, who speaks to her in jondaetmal

Shin Joo: “Contrary to how he looks, he’s the devoted type, after all.” Et tu, Shin Joo? 

Shin Joo’s line is subbed: “As if that’s a good thing,” but I would have translated it as: “Romantic, my foot!”

Sub: “At least once in our lives we come across that one person we want to give our lives to.” This should be: ‘risk our lives for.’ 

Sub: “I won’t ever devote myself to love. My goal will be to protect Mr. Lee.” Actually: “I won’t ever risk my life for love. I’m going to protect Lee Yeon-nim!”

“Well that can also be called love, can’t it?” Thank you for this, Show. I know some people think TotNT champions romantic love above all else, but I simply don’t agree. 

When Yeon checks Ji Ah again for his fox bead, the BGM playing is once again ‘Thread Rings’

I love how they did the CG on whatever is happening with Yeon’s powers here. I would have loved to have gotten more of an explanation of the fox bead and its powers (and Yeon’s, for that matter), but alas. 

I love that Yeon tucks Ji Ah in even after re-confirming (or so he thinks) that she isn’t Ah Eum. It was important to me that he came to like and appreciate her for herself before learning that she was, in fact, his lost love. 

Morning on the Island

Ji Ah wakes to find Yeon gone, the blanket tucked around her, and her expression tells us she’s onto him: sure, Yeon can be a grump, but he’s also a complete softie. heh

Yeon is, once again, talking to the elders in banmal. Why do I keep mentioning it? Because no matter how many times I see it it’s still funny.

Okay, Lee Dong Wook has this way of pointing at things with his entire arm that I find ticklish. Yeon ends up coming across like a petulant child. On a cultural note, in Korea, pointing at people like this is considered impolite.

Yeon dangling the ginseng behind Ji Ah as extra incentive pfft Wild ginseng can be massively expensive in Korea (on the order of hundreds of dollars), so this is actually a very effective bribe. 

Also, can we take a moment to appreciate that Yeon woke up before dawn, and, instead of going back to sleep, went into the mountains to hunt for wild ginseng, then set about using it to bribe the elders into answering Ji Ah’s questions for her. Entirely of his own accord. Like I said: softie. 

Side note: Lee Dong Wook’s eyebrows are working overtime in this scene and I’m honestly a little jealous. 

The newspaper Jae Hwan finds at the library is dated August 13, 1954, which Ji Ah immediately recognizes as having been just after the Korean War (if you’ll recall, this is when the forest spirit told them something ominous had come to the island). 

This newspaper is actually really cool. You can see how, in the past, Korean newspapers used a lot of hanja in addition to the phonetic hangeul, similar to modern Japanese. The headline reads, “Headless Corpse, Discovered on Eohwa Island, Investigation Hits Dead End.” (頭 없는 屍身, 漁花島에서 發見, 捜査 迷宮으로). 

Okay, to be honest, this final scene - absent the extra context given in the next episode - made me question Ji Ah’s smarts again. I wondered why she was chasing down the clearly unstable guy just to question him, but it makes sense once you know she meant to warn him his life was in danger. 

As usual, Yeon knows how to make an entrance. Cue ‘Gumiho’ theme. 

Yeon stopping when Ji Ah tells him to never stops being satisfying. 

The BGM playing as we cut over to Rang is ‘The House of Ghosts.’ 

Okay, those shots of Thirsty and Hungry were full-on horror movie and I actually kind of like it? I never watch horror as a genre, but for some reason, I found I missed this spooky element when it dropped out of the later episodes. 

Oh, I like that Yeon went and made her a poultice. Very ex-mountain god of you, sir. 

“Long time no see, Lee Yeon.” Iconic. And creepy. I love the attention to detail Jo Bo Ah displays in the difference between how she acts Ji Ah vs. Imoogi. Imoogi’s voice is higher pitched, and gives off more of a loose-cannon feel compared to Ji Ah, who speaks in a lower, more grounded tone. 

Sub: “It’s me. The person you’ve been waiting for.” Imoogi literally says: “It’s me. That thing you’ve been waiting for.” This is obviously a big clue since normally one wouldn’t refer to oneself in such a way. It also reflects the fact that, unlike Terry-Imoogi, Jimoogi perceives no value in Ji Ah herself. (Yes, I call Ji Ah-Imoogi ‘Jimoogi,’ and sadly, no, I didn’t come up with it). 

Yikes, Jimoogi tracing Yeon’s face was all menace and zero cute. Point to Jo Bo Ah.

Boy, this show really knows how to make an exit.

Blue Mooooooooon!! The guitar (bass?) riff is just so catchy. 

And that concludes Episode 2. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first one. If not for your encouragement, I probably wouldn’t have continued. I also genuinely enjoy hearing from people, so send me your thoughts! This is a weird, unprecedented mashup of a live reaction post, behind the scenes info, and detailed language and culture notes, and I’m still learning how to balance the three. Your feedback is always welcome. 

I’d also like to take a moment to credit my sister, who, in addition to weighing in on a lot of the translations, is also the chief researcher and fact checker for these. I, meanwhile, am in charge of bad jokes and snark. I mentioned before that these take longer than you might expect, but it’s really true. The time we spend watching the episode is actually the least of it, and as much as I enjoy them, they are a huge time suck. 

So. This is what I’m going to do. If you’d like to see more of these, or if you enjoyed this, or if you’ve enjoyed any of the translations or commentary or whatnot I’ve been posting recently, please consider buying me a coffee. If you follow the link, you can buy me a $2 cup of virtual coffee. I’ve never done this before, but I’ve decided to give it a try. It’ll help me to gauge how much interest there is, and, possibly more importantly, it will help me to justify all the time haha. If and when I’ve established there’s enough interest, I’ll proceed with Episode 3. ;)

[nzvalley]

The “Broken Bow” Novelization, Part 2

The Klaang Situation and First Impressions

Archer’s first impressions of T’Pol

I always thought that Archer and T’Pol must’ve at least interacted before, been in the same room. The novelization suggests otherwise. Like in the pilot as aired, Forrest’s opening words to Archer, that he knows everyone in the room, implies to me they’ve at least seen each other.  However, a few seconds later, right after Archer learns the word Klingon, we get this moment:

He started to say something, possibly rude, when a movement behind the two Vulcans caught his eye. Another Vulcan. A woman. Wasn’t anybody going to introduce her? Or were the Vulcans so advanced that courtesy didn’t involve women? (p. 24)

In the pilot, instead of this moment where Archer notices T’Pol, we cut to a wide shot, from the interior of the infirmary, of the whole group looking at the Klingon.

Great, snarky line on the same page, from the interior monologue of Archer:

He knew that tone, that inference... good thing he was well enough educated to understand the subtle nastiness as wielded by the pointy among us.

The novelization makes much clearer that Archer is immediately impressed (in a grudging, adversarial way) with T’Pol.

The Vulcan female stepped forward, quite suddenly, right through the two elder ambassadors. She was the only one with the guts to say what she was thinking. “Until you’ve proven you’re ready.” ...

“Ready for what?” Archer asked, even though he knew. Hell, everybody knew, but he wanted to maker her say it. “To look beyond your provincial attitudes and volatile nature.” The elegant female had a firmness in her eyes. She was playing his game. She darn well comprehended the triteness of her own declaration. Maybe she was waiting to see how far Archer could be pushed. (p. 29)

and

Eyebrow raised, she looked at him in near enjoyment- was that right? There was a glint in her eye, despite her mosaic stillness. He got the idea that she might not like what she heard, but did like hearing it. Very few humans talked back to Vulcans... yet. 

This Vulcan seemed subtly different from the other two- almost as if she were able to imagine Archer actually trying to knock her down- and finding humor in what would, of course, be the inevitable result of any human attempting to overpower any Vulcan. (p. 29-30)

And Archer notices T’Pol, still unintroduced and unnamed, one more time as the Vulcan delegation departs.

The Vulcans, realizing that Forrests’ resolve could not be shaken, departed in stoic silence- not before the female shot him a curious glance. Archer almost smiled, but managed to bury it. Score one for the amoebas. (p. 31)

 The crew’s distrust of Vulcans

There is a deep general distrust of Vulcans among the crew, at least the senior officers. Trip speculates that T’Pol is everything from a spy to a saboteur to an assassin.  And it’s not a fleeting distrust, well into the third act Trip is seriously considering the possibility that T’Pol engineered a conspiracy to incapacitate Archer. Even Hoshi openly says she dislikes T’Pol.   

Malcolm and Trip look into T’Pol’s background to make sure she’s not too dangerous. What we learn about her background is pretty different than what developed later. 

“Have you and Reed found out anything?” “She’s clean and normal right up until she gets the scholarship that put her in Soval’s office. Then, her records start getting real terse and kind of vague.” (p.173)

On top of depicting T’Pol’s time on Earth as being brief and sporadic, this suggests that either her comportment was declining... or something else is going on.

 Testing T’Pol’s Loyalty

Archer yells at T’Pol for questioning the mission and his authority, and he reprimands T’Pol for hiding/not divulging information. The novel expands that scene quite a bit, and depicts it initially from Trip’s POV. 

“Then again,” [Trip] added resentfully, “loyalty’s an emotion, isn’t it?” She looked at him, and he could tell a response was forming- what would she say? Under that stony façade and the gloss of having a “mission” of her own, what did she really think of Jonathan Archer? 

There’s a whole other scene’s worth of interaction from the end of their confrontation scene that wasn’t included in the Pilot. After Travis affirms Archer’s orders, Archer and T’Pol have a serious argument. 

Turning to T’Pol, Archer strictly said, “You’re going to be working with us from now on.” She paled a little, but owned up to her reasons. “I’m sorry you feel slighted. But I agree with Ambassador Soval’s restraint in giving Earth too much information. Perhaps the last thing we need is another volatile race in space with warp power: You may easily go out and get yourselves killed. It may be a mistake to have helped you so much, to give you so much before you’re ready.” “So much?” Archer barked. “You’d better use the next portion of your long lifetime to go back over the records and see just how much we’ve done on our own, in spite of your cultural cowardice.”  “Cowardice?” Her eyes widened. Over to the side, Tucker smirked and pressed his lips flat with delight. (p. 117)

The argument goes on for pages, amounting to what would probably be a five minute scene. It’s actually fairly important, in terms of additional context for why T’Pol began to shift her opinion in the next few scenes on Rigel. It also shines a lot of light on Archer’s ruminations about Vulcans, including why they are behaving so strangely and illogically. 

“...You’re dragging behind, and now you need us more than we need you. Why else would you want to come and teach the apes how to sew? I think all this is happening because you’re plain scared of being out here alone anymore.”  Stunned, T’Pol parted her lips again. Nothing came out this time. She never blinked, as if staring at a flashing billboard declaring his words to the known galaxy. He was saying the Vulcans were doomed. Nobody had the guts to say that to their faces.  Archer backed off now, but pointed at her with a determined finger. “You get on that warp trail. And you’d better find something or be able to explain why not in very clear terms. Dismissed.” T’Pol blinked almost as if he’d slapped her. She turned on her heel and exited without a word, taking a cloud of confusion along on her shoulders.”

Then there’s a few more pages of just Trip and Archer, where they discuss the possibility that the ship was infiltrated before it even launched. They also talk about T’Pol, going over whether she’ll work with the crew or continue to be the High Command’s agent. Archer actually gives her credit and tries to see the situation from her perspective.

“She’s my science officer now, not Soval’s patsy. She’ll learn that lesson over the next week if I have to tattoo it on her tongue.” “Good thing it was you chewing her out instead of me. I’d have punched her in the nose.” “She’d hit me back,” Archer said. “And she’d probably break my jaw.” Tucker grinned, rather drably. “She, uh... she came on the ship about the same time as all our little troubles started...” He broached the subject, then let it hang there. He didn’t seem to have quite the conviction for a direct accusation. Archer accepted what the engineer was saying. The ideas wasn’t new to him. He’d be silly to ignore it. “Well wait and see. Vulcans are reserved. They don’t converse. She’s just learning about us. As Vulcans go, she’s very young. I get the feeling she’s as much in the middle as we are.” (p. 121-122)

So a big chunk from the middle of the narrative has been cut out in the aired Pilot. This is the portion of the narrative where T’Pol has to either stand rigid in her loyalty to High Command and Vulcan values, or adapt a little and embrace her ability to work with humans. At this point I wouldn’t say her loyalties have shifted... but her curiosity has been piqued. The differences Archer noticed in her are really there, and she has noticed some differences about him too. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[vpyre]

The Geek Division

Grelle was annoyed. She generally was these days, but this time there was a tangible reason. Why on earth did she need to experience “the science side of Grim Reaper Dispatch” when they knew full well that she had no interest in academics and would rather be out learning something useful like how to collect souls? She was in Retrieval training for christ's sake. To hell with “having an understanding and appreciation for all branches of the Dispatch”. It was just pointless. Pointless and stupid and just another thing for her to suffer through. She sighed and tapped her fingers against one of the black lab tables. Beakers and vials bubbled and hissed in the back of the room, barely audible over the clamor of the new trainees as they filed in and found seats with their new friends. No one sat with her. She was left alone to sulk, not that she particularly cared. They were all the same anyway; afraid of her, unnerved by her, rude to her. She would tell them all to drop dead, but it was a bit too late for that.

When everyone had found a seat, four reapers in white lab coats made their way to the front of the room, and one of them stepped forward. As soon as the first word left his mouth, Grelle knew she'd be dying of boredom ten minutes in, if that. Pointless. What a waste of time. As her gaze settled on the view through the long window on the other side of the room, she propped her chin on her fist and twirled a strand of her short hair around her finger. I wish it was longer. To my knees even! I’d be gorgeous if I grew it out; and then maybe they would see me the way I really am. Her thoughts continued drifting wistfully, like a cardinal’s feathers in a breeze.

"Hiya."

Grelle started and whipped around so hard she almost fell out of her chair. Sitting in the previously empty seat beside her was another man in a lab coat, though he was decidedly more rumpled than the other scientists. Where their clothes and hair were tidy and their demeanor formal, his dark hair stuck out in odd places and he was slouching in his seat. When she saw the open, laid-back friendliness on his face, she felt some of her tension evaporate as her mind processed that he wasn't there to harass her like the others. But still... why is he talking to me?

"My name's Othello. What's yours, my dear new reaper?" he asked. She didn't see a single hint of negativity or ulterior motives in his face, so she replied,

"Grelle Sutcliff. From the Retrieval Division." If he was really genuine in his friendliness, she couldn't see the harm in making conversation to pass the time.

"Good to meet you! Now, what're your pronouns, Dear Grelle?"

What? She blinked, trying not to let her surprise show. No one had ever asked her that before; they all just assumed. She couldn't blame them, not really. She'd never met someone like her, never met someone who was aware of anything other than what the societal norm was. But somehow he knew. Why did he know? Reapers must really be ahead of their time, or at least this one was. He seemed to have picked up on her line of thinking when she didn't respond right away, so he continued,

"I've seen you around, so I noticed that you carry yourself a certain way and that you don't appear to like being referred to as male. I wanted to make sure I wasn't assuming anything, 'cos you seem like an interesting person to know."

It was the sincerity in his voice that stifled the last of her apprehension. She relaxed and murmured,

"I... I'm a woman. And thank you. Y'know, for asking. It isn't often that people are this considerate."

"No need to thank me, it should just be common decency. Anywho, it doesn't look like you're particularly enjoying the forensics lecture." Before she could finish stuttering out a defensive response, he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna tattle on you. I'd be in the same boat if I had to visit the retrieval division, seeing as I'm physically incompetent and nothing fascinates me more than science." There were sudden rustles of movement around them as the instructors shooed everyone out of the room for a demonstration. Grelle sighed and stood up to follow,

"Well, it was nice to meet you, but-" a hand on her arm gave her pause. "What?" She turned to look at the other reaper, and he mouthed,

"Come with me!" She hesitated for a moment, deliberating. Then she shrugged. She had nothing better to do; plus he was considerate and kind, which was more than she could say for anyone else as far as she was concerned, so she nodded, relief and mischievous curiosity bubbling up and lifting her spirits. Stifling a grin, she followed him as they scurried through the lab and away from the group, quietly slipping out into the corridor.

She glanced around furtively and asked, "What are we doing?” as he tugged her onward through the stark white halls.

”Alleviating your boredom. You looked like you were about to snap and smash some of those beakers, so I thought I’d save you from the inevitable cleanup duty punishment. And like I said, you seem like an interesting person to know. Plus, I want to show you my lab. Forensics will never interest you if those stuffed shirts are the ones talking. They don’t ever say anything interesting. They all think I’m ‘eccentric’ just cos I’m not satisfied with their dull science; and I very well may be, but at least I’m not boring.” She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny that listening to this geek talk was infinitely more entertaining than sitting in that stuffy lab, listening to those stuffy scientists regaling her with their stuffy lecture.

His lab wasn't far, thank god. As much as she hated the Dispatch and its rules, she didn't want to get caught and written up, not when she was doing so well in her retrieval training. They stopped at a plain wooden door in the middle of the hall. It was unremarkable, but from what she could already tell about Othello himself, it was sure to be more interesting on the inside. He unlocked the door and they entered. What she saw was unexpected, but she had expected it to be unexpected, so really it wasn't all that surprising. Where the other lab was neat and orderly, equipment organized and surfaces uncluttered, his looked like a tornado had torn through it. Beakers and papers were scattered across all available tables and counters, almost completely obscuring every horizontal surface. There were science-y odds and ends everywhere. On top of that, there was a huge pile of unrecognizable mechanical parts, metal, and machinery on the floor in the back of the room (strangely enough, the floor was clean and absent of any other clutter).

"What on earth is that thing?" Grelle asked, leaning on a table and gesturing to the back of the room. She hoped he wouldn't get all technical about it; she didn't understand these sorts of things, nor did she want to, but she couldn't help feeling curious.

"It's a dynamo, a generator; or, rather, it will be. I'm still working on it. Humans probably won't have it for the next hundred years or so." He strode over to the desk near the metal thing -the generator- and started digging through the papers. Despite the mess he seemed to know exactly where to find what he needed, emerging a moment later with a diagram, which he waved around enthusiastically, excitement shining in his eyes. "It converts AC into DC using a commutator, which is a set of rotating switch contacts on the armature shaft that reverse the connection of the armature winding to the circuit with every 180 degree rotation, creating a-"

She shook her head and cut in, waving a hand, "Wait wait wait wait. I don't speak geek; mind translating that to English?"

"Essentially, it just generates energy in the form of electricity. But there's so much more to it than that! Lemme show you the diagram." He motioned her over to the desk. Pointing out parts as he spoke, he explained what each one did, how it worked, and how they fit together. When he finished rambling about the generator, he moved on to some of the other blueprints and formulas scattered throughout the room as well as some of the chemical vials sitting in their various nooks and crannies. She didn't understand a word that came out of his mouth, but his enthusiasm was contagious; though she tried to act aloof, she found herself smiling and nodding along as he spouted scientific gibberish. It was entertaining just to watch him gush about it all, and honestly kinda endearing. It certainly took her mind off of her bitter thoughts. Even with the difference in interests, she was just glad to be around someone who seemed to enjoy her company and who didn't harbor any negativity towards her. Someone who went out of his way to cheer her up. Someone who trusted her not to lash out at him. Someone who was thoughtful enough to ask about her feelings and respectful enough to listen to, then act on her answer.

Still, she wondered. "Why did you come talk to me, y'know, back in the other lab? Most reapers would rather avoid me."

He shrugged and put down his test tube. "You just seemed lonely. Not only at that moment, but almost every time I saw you around. To other reapers, your loneliness and hurt might come across as anger, but that's just 'cos they don't bother trying to understand you. Honestly! You'd think they'd have no trouble understanding on some level; after all, we all got here the same way, but some people just don't seem to have it in them to be sympathetic anymore. I make a point of doing things others are afraid of doing, which too often includes being a decent person. On top of that, you're just a very interesting woman, and I like interesting people. Besides, you're really tough and I'm physically weak, so if I stick with you no one will dare mess with me, ha ha!"

Grelle rolled her eyes, but she chuckled a bit all the same. Truth be told, she genuinely appreciated this reaper, someone she had just met, for speaking so openly and kindly. He certainly was eccentric, but he made that a good thing. He continued on as if nothing had happened, and she relaxed in the casually comfortable atmosphere.

All too soon, she heard the trainee crowd walk past Othello's lab, instructors herding them back from the forensics tour. To her surprise, she found that she wanted to stay and simply listen to Othello rave about his beloved science, even though it just went in one ear and out the other for her. She turned to bid him farewell.

"I'm going to head back before I get us in trouble. It was a pleasure to meet you, even if you are a huge geek. And just... thank you. For going out of your way to make me feel more welcome. I may not like or understand science, but if you have to talk about that sort of thing, I suppose I'll humor you and listen."

He smiled a bit and shrugged. "Anytime. And I guess it's too much to hope that I've piqued your interest in forensics?"

"Yes. I'll leave that to you geeks." She shook her head in mock exasperation, but as she walked away, she smiled. Just a bit.

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [24/27]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith

Summary: “You said one,” she reminded. “Now you’re going to be a good girl and follow the rest of the itinerary.”

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. Remember, this is just fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

The rest of the weekend passed quickly, and before Zelda could believe it, they were returning home.

Lilith loved her, and Zelda felt as if the happiness she felt might burn her up. There was nothing and no one that could take it from her as she kissed her over and over, tasting the words on her mouth, her skin, her sex until they had laughed and kissed and fucked until only sleep brought relief from the happiness she felt.

And even there, she found herself waking up and peaking over at Lilith to ensure she was really there, that this was all real.

Hilda agreed to pick up Sabrina, which left Zelda returned to Lilith’s home and kiss her again. She kissed her in the kitchen, in the living room, in the bathroom where they showered, on the stairs, against the doorframe, and in the bedroom where they fucked.

She kissed her and felt as if the world stopped turning, giving them a few moments with another. They had sex and didn’t have sex. They talked and fucked and laughed, and Zelda thought about her future with Lilith more seriously for the first time in life.

How soon was reasonable to say to Lilith that she was freely allowed over at her home?

Probably after speaking with her niece.

“Sabrina’s home,” she said as she finally pulled herself away Lilith’s grasp, standing on the floorboards to pick up her clothes. “I need to speak to her.”

“What about Ambrose?”

“Ambrose and Hilda both gave their blessing,” she said, looking up as she fixed her bra and began tugging her blouse on. She paused, watching Lilith shift in the bed, head propped up on one arm, looking good enough to eat. “I need to speak to Sabrina––I didn’t even want to say any loveconfessions until after I spoke to her.”

“Ah, the glory of God,” Lilith declared before she grinned, “Or a good orgasm.”

“Mm,” Zelda fixed the last of her shirt buttons, before she pulled her skirt on, zipping it up. The underwear was ruined, and she couldn’t be bothered with stockings, so it would have to do for now. “I’m sure I can imagine what version you’ll be telling your friends.”

“Fist deep, God staring from above as holy light filled the room, she looked at me as if––“

Zelda threw her underwear at Lilith’s face and watched as the woman laughed, tossing them back. “There was no holy light.”

“There was moonlight. You looked ravishing in the moonlight. I’d very much, so enjoy having my wicked way with you again.”

“Is that so?” Zelda said, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, there’s a clearing near the Spellman manor if you truly think that.”

Lilith’s eyes flashed, a soft ohh on her lips as she watched her step into heels. “Equinox is coming up.”

Zelda laughed, “another orgy?”

“Mm, no. I think I’d want you all to myself for that one. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything fun. I could suspend you from a tree?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” She turned to Lilith’s dresser, fixing her hair and wiping off the remaining ruined lipstick on her mouth. “I’ll call you tonight.”

“Or could come around, again?” Lilith said.

Zelda hummed. “I need to spend some nights with my family. But I could come over before dinner,” she said. The truth was, she’d hoped that once Sabrina had agreed, then Lilith could start spending more time around the manor, come to the family dinners until it became natural to serve a plate for her.

Zelda walked over to the bed, leaning down to kiss Lilith only for the woman’s hand to run through her hair and hold her firm as she kissed her with decadent passion––so much so that Zelda felt herself almost begin to crawl on the back of the bed before she remembered her intentions.

“Soon,” she promised, pulling her face just far enough away that the woman’s face filled her entire peripheral. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Lilith said, her smile breaking wide across her face. She lifted her hands then to cup Zelda’s jaw as she kissed her again, soft and sweet, her thumbs caressing across her cheekbones. “Come back soon co I can have my way with you.”

“I’ll do my best,” Zelda agreed, kissing her goodbye.

She returned home around mid-afternoon. She’d hidden as many of the marks Lilith left as she could, but it was plainly evident that she’d been up to something.

Hilda was out when she arrived, and Ambrose was nowhere to be found, which left the perfect opportunity to privately have the long-awaited conversation.

Knocking on Sabrina’s door, Zelda felt her excitement bubble, before trepidation filled her.

Ambrose had plainly provided his blessing, but this was the first time she’d be discussing it with Sabrina.

So when the door opened, and her niece stared back at her frowning, the anxiety only grew. “Sabrina,” she said. “How was your vacation?”

“Fine,” she answered, hands folding under her chest. Zelda paused at the short response, taking a moment to look at the scene before her.

“Did…something happen?”

“You lied to me,” Sabrina said. “You––“ she paused, mouth twisting, “Aunt Hilda told me that you’re dating Ms Wardwell.”

Zelda stilled, feeling as if ice was encasing over her as she watched Sabrina’s anger grow before her. “We’re not dating. We’ve only been seeing each other,” she advised. “But we are looking to…move to that next stage.”

“How long were you together?” Sabrina asked. “Was it just Christmas? Or…” and Sabrina paused there, swallowing as her brow pressed together. “Or longer? You’ve been disappearing at night to meetings and drinks with friends for a while now, and I know it’s not with Constance. So…was it with Principal Wardwell? Is that why you invited her to dinner?”

Zelda took a moment to reflect. Looking at it, with all the evidence placed before her, it was…a significant time they’d been meeting together. Since midway through September, she’d been seeing Lilith if she were to consider the time she paid Lilith as a dominatrix as ‘seeing’ her. Otherwise, it’d only been a few weeks. Barely over two weeks since they’d been formally ‘seeing’ each other.

“Yes,” she answered.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered for a moment, a look of horror on her face as she shook her head. “Why would you lie to me?”

“Because––“ and she paused, the truth was unfair to Sabrina, so she swallowed it back and softened it with another. “Because I didn’t know how far her feelings went. And I wanted to ensure that she wanted the same thing as me before we continued.”

“Which is what? A relationship?”

Zelda nodded slowly. “Openly.”

“No,” Sabrina said. “You can’t.”

Zelda blinked, feeling the dread slip over her at the words. “Sabrina, she’s a good person. I care for her, quite a fair amount. I’d appreciate it if you’d at least consider it.”

But Sabrina’s head shook, adamant, “No, not her. You can date anyone else, why would you want Ms Wardwell? She’s just a Principal.”

“What on earth is this about? Mary is a good person, a kind person.”

“She’s not-–Aunt Zee, please! Please, I’ve never asked you not to date anyone, I never said a word with anyone else, even when you were going to marry them, and they were so wrong for you! Please. Not her. She’s not good, she’s a liar and––”

Zelda flinched, blinking as she shook her head, “Sabrina––!“

“She’s not right for you. And…and it’s not fair that you’re dating my Principal. What if you guys break-up, what about––“ and Zelda could hear excuses pouring from Sabrina’s mouth, hypotheticals about things that wouldn’t happen, how Lilith would treat her differently, how the school would react, how it would come back to Sabrina and Theo, as well as Zelda.

There were so many excuses and so many reasons. But Zelda didn’t care about any of them. Who cared what strangers thought––so as long as she had Lilith.

But Sabrina looked at her, and she pled, eyes wide open, tears in her eyes, begging her not to date Lilith.

“What do you mean when you said that she’s a liar?” Zelda asked.

“She…she did something. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did she hurt you?” Zelda asked, but Sabrina shook her head. “Someone else, then?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Sabrina snapped. “You said that if I ever had a problem with someone you would listen to me! You promised! No justification needed, so as long as it was fair. This is fair, Aunt Zee. Trust me. Please.”

She was right, Sabrina may not have liked some of Zelda’s other partners, she may not have approved of them, but she’d never requested anything like this and Zelda was dumbstruck at the sudden pleads, unsure as to why Sabrina was feeling this way.

“Okay,” she agreed, feeling the words lump in her throat. She gave a small nod and turned away, tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth to prevent the rising emotion from coming out. “I won’t…I won’t see her any more,” she agreed.

It was like she’d swallowed rocks. Her throat ached, and there was a horrible weight in her stomach.

Her and Lilith were not going to date. They were going to break-up.

Sabrina drew in a breath and exhaled, “Thank you,” was all she said. “You can date anyone else, I swear. Just not her.”

“Why not her?” Zelda asked, unable to help herself.

But Sabrina bit her lip, hands in fists at her side. “Because she’s not right,” was all she said. “Please, Aunt Zee?”

Zelda nodded, feeling her throat swell. Less than an hour ago, she’d been untangling herself from Lilith’s hands and warm kisses, promising to return to her soon. And now, Zelda dreaded seeing her again, having to say the words that no, she didn’t have Sabrina’s blessing, and therefore no, she couldn’t see her.

She gave another nod, taking in a deep breath as she pressed a hand to her abdomen, willing the emotions to settle in her chest. She was a big girl, she could handle this.

“At least it wasn’t serious,” Sabrina mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Your relationship. At least…as least it’s not serious.”

Zelda gave a smile, wondering if she should admit the truth as she felt Lilith’s whispered love hum through her ear, but she thought better of it. “I’ll…tell her tonight,” she said. “It’ll be awkward for you tomorrow I imagine but the sooner…”

“The better,” Sabrina finished, nodding.

Zelda couldn’t face her niece anymore. Irrationally, she wanted to spit insults and demand a better response than she’s not right or she’s a liar. She wanted something more substantial than maybes and hypotheticals, but Zelda knew in her heart that Sabrina wouldn’t provide it.

She wanted to plead for Sabrina to make an exception, but that wasn’t fair to ask of her.

Whatever the truth was, Sabrina wasn’t going to share it. Zelda swallowed back the growing ache that filled her, pushing it deep down as she walked away. She grabbed her keys, she got into her car and pulled out of the driveway and made it a few hundred meters down the road before she pulled off and felt the swelling ache shatter as she burst into tears.

She’d promised Sabrina long ago that if her or Ambrose ever blatantly disagreed, she would agree to their decision.

And here she was, following a promise she’d long since hoped would never be stood by. There’d be terrible exes. Partners who weren’t cruel but nor were they kind to Sabrina, and never once had her niece spoken-up. So why, Lilith? What had Lilith done that was so terrible Sabrina demanded they break-up?

Did it matter? She’d made a promise, and if she was going to have Sabrina stand by her commitments, then she needed to set an example.

So she cried in her car until her sobbing turned to deep breaths, and then she rose and looked at herself in the mirror, collecting all the strength she could as she fixed her make-up and made her way to Lilith’s cottage.

And still, she couldn’t work out what she needed to say. How do you say to someone that you love them, but that you can’t be together? She would have given Lilith the world if she asked––the only person that preceded her love and adoration for the woman was the very person she viewed as her daughter.

An hour. That’s all it took—one hour for her to go from happily in love with heartbroken.

She pulled up at the house and settled for a moment before she made her way to the front door. Her body felt heavy as she lifted her hand and knocked on the door, swallowing back everything as she tried to bottle her feelings away.

She couldn’t make this any more difficult than need-be. It had to be a clean break. It had to be fair to both of them.  

God, it hurt to think about.

Lilith came to the door, opening it wide with a familiar, bright expression before it softened and then paused, eyes dancing around Zelda’s face. “Did something happen?” she asked.

Zelda swallowed, feeling the lump in her throat. And then Lilith was stepping back, allowing her entrance into the home and maybe she should do it there, at the threshold so she could leave quickly, but it wasn’t fair to be so separate, and if Zelda was honest, she wanted to be selfish in these last moments. So she entered.

“I––“ she began, watching as Lilith shut the door, worry flooding her face.

“Is Sabrina okay?”

Zelda nodded and then blinked as her eyes prickled. Looking up at the ceiling, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to remember the words she’d thought about on the way over. And then she swallowed and looked at Lilith’s face.

She’d broken off engagements. Had left a half dozen relationships before. They’d all been hard in their own way, but this felt worse. It felt wrong because, for the first time, she didn’t see the reason why she was doing this. Lilith loved her, and she loved her back. They were in love.

It wasn’t fair.

“I don’t have Sabrina’s blessing,” she said, but it sounded ridiculous, so she shook her head and stepped away as Lilith tried to reach for. “So we can’t…” she paused, swallowing again, “I can’t see you any more.”

Lilith’s expression shifted to puzzlement, and then she was shaking her head. “That’s ridiculous,” she said. “Your niece can’t––“

“She begged me. Begged. She’s never––“ and Zelda shook her head, setting her hands on her hips to prevent from reaching out for her. “I promised her Lilith. Many years ago that if she or Ambrose said no, I wouldn’t––that I would break the relationship off.”

“But…” Lilith paused and gave a short, nervous laugh, “I don’t understand. We’re happy.”

Zelda nodded, feeling the tears spill down her cheek before she took another breath, trying to swallow back the growing sobs. “I know,” she said, and her voice was strangled as she said it. “And I am, I am so…so happy, but I promised her.”

“Fuck that promise. You love me. You said you love me and I love you. Whatever it is she’ll grow-up and get over it and––“

“No,” Zelda said. “No, Lilith.”

“But—“

“No.”

Lilith scowled, turning on her heel as she looked away, pacing the length of the room. “Then I’ll talk to. Explain that––“

“You’ll do no such thing!” Zelda snapped. “I don’t know why Sabrina has requested this, but it’s her request. She’s never asked for it, not with anyone else. But I will abide by it.”

“This is ridiculous Zelda. Certainly, you can hear that yourself. You’re letting some sixteen-year-old girl decide your happiness, for what?”

“For family! She is an orphan, Lilith. You may not see it, but she’s heartbroken every day. I am all she has. Not Ambrose, not Hilda, me. I’m her family. I raised her from when she was a baby. And if she asks this of me then so be it, I will follow because I promised her that I would and by God, she needs that stability that I’m not going to lie to her.”

“But it’s bullshit!” Zelda paused, letting the words ring out between them, watching as Lilith’s fury softened as she receded and pulled away. “I fucking love you. We’re happy. I don’t understand how that’s not enough. What more is there, what more do you want?”

“Nothing, there’s nothing else I want for,” Zelda said. She wanted Lilith. She wanted Lilith in her arms and in her bed. She wanted her at Christmas and New Years, at her Birthday and family events. She wanted to marry her if Lilith would have agreed to it. She wanted her, completely, utterly as much as Lilith would give––Zelda would have provided in return.

But she promised Sabrina.

“It’s not about what I want,” Zelda said. “I made a promise…that’s as simple as it is.”

Lilith shook her head, and Zelda could see the tears spilling there. The desperation to find an answer. “It’s not fair,” Lilith said.

“I know.” So she reached out and took Lilith’s hands. She kissed her cheeks from the tears, and then her mouth and felt as Lilith hissed in a breath, swallowing back her heartache.

“I love you,” Zelda said. “I mean that. Honestly, truly, I love you.”

And Lilith sobbed, so she kissed her again, and again until Lilith’s fingers were undoing the buttons of her clothes and tugging them off desperately.

They stumbled against the wall, and Zelda undressed quickly, watching as Lilith ripped her own clothes from her body, before she pressed against Zelda and kissed her.

Her body was warm, and at that moment, Zelda thought they fit perfectly against each other. During all those nights of waking up beside her, of wrapping her arms around Lilith, of stepping behind her and pressing her chin to Lilith’s shoulder, she hadn’t appreciated enough how well they fit.

And it burned her.

She tugged at Lilith, feeling herself drop against a side table and knock its contents to the ground. Something crashed, a painting fell from its hook, and her head banged hard against the wall, but she didn’t care. At the moment, all she wanted was Lilith.

It was hard and rough. And if Zelda bit too hard on Lilith’s shoulder, and Lilith’s nails dug in too sharply, they didn’t say anything. They kept going, marking each other as if they could imprint on the skin forever, leaving half-moon indents and long scratch marks.

She couldn’t speak for Lilith, but she knew that the marks she left, she hoped they didn’t fade too quickly. She wanted to be remembered, that she’d been here, she’d existed, she’d loved her.

It didn’t feel like enough.

She tasted Lilith’s moans and felt them hum against her, and when she gasped up at the ceiling, Zelda kissed her harder, ignoring the sob scratching up her throat.

She watched as Lilith’s eyes fluttered shut, as her mouth parted wide. She felt her come around her fingers, her thighs trembling against her. And then she did it again until Lilith snarled and shoved her down.

Then Zelda felt herself come undone by Lilith’s hand and mouth once, twice and then a third until she was shoving the woman’s hands away, trying to catch her breath and ignore the ache in her chest.

When it was done, and over, she didn’t allow herself to linger against Lilith, knowing that if she heard the woman’s heartbeat, she’d never leave. So she kissed her for the last time and dressed, and felt the words swell in her throat again.

I love you.

Lilith looked at her and then her eyes glimmered as she turned away, unmoving from the mess they’d made on the floor.

Zelda grabbed her jacket and turned away, leaving as fast as she could before she went back on her decision.  

Before Lilith, she didn’t know that you could love another person so much, feel so safe in someone’s arms. But the heartache she was familiar with. In a way, she should have known it would end up like this––her family ruined everything, how could this have been any different?

She returned to the car, pausing just a moment to see her reflection in the mirror and feel the shame wash over her before she turned the engine on and pulled out of Mary Wardwell’s driveway.

They’d see each other around, but for now, that was it—a clean break.

___________________

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Won’t You Stay A While? - fic

Characters: Ric Grayson, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake Summary: Ric did not expect to find a child sitting on the hood of his cab. Damian did expect to get his brother back. A/N: I kind of imagine Damian puked in the bathroom. Tim and Damian don’t speak on the way home, but him, Cass and Jason kind of become helicopter parents to him, especially after Tim tells Jason and Cass what Ric’s last words to them were. Inspired by ‘Hold Me While You Wait’ by Lewis Capaldi. Very Damian and amnesiac Dick song, it hurts my heart a lot.

~~

The bar’s bell chimed as the door opened, followed by: “Yo, Ric!”

Ric reluctantly took his eyes off Bea, looking towards the man at the door. A regular, who Ric often found himself playing barside therapist for.

“Hey, Lenny.”

“Your cab out front?”

“Know another cabbie who frequents this bar?”

Lenny snorted a raspy laugh. “Well, there’s a kid sittin’ on the hood. Told him to beat it, and he told me to shove it up my ass. Then he settled in like he owned the car himself. So, you may have a problem on your hands.”

Ric sighed. “Great. Did he say who he was?”

“I didn’t ask, and he wasn’t very forthcoming with the conversation.” Lenny shrugged. He clapped a hand on Ric’s shoulder as he passed, making a bee-line for the bathroom. “Looked like one of the local street rats, but I sensed a lil’ Gotham accent there, so good luck with that headache.”

A local gang member, even better. Ric groaned and pushed back from the bar, giving Bea a wave and already defeated smile as he backed towards the door.

He shoved at the door with his back and zipped up his jacket as he spun towards the road. The kid was easy to spot, all dark clothes against the bright yellow of the cab. His knees were curled to his chest, and the hood up over his head, shadowing his face.

“Hey, kid!”

The boy looked up, and Ric froze midstep.

Aw hell.

He’d have preferred the gang member.

Instead, it was the Wayne kid. Damian. One of the ones there when he woke up from his coma. One of the ones he couldn’t remember for the life of him.

“Damian?” He murmured as he approached, both to call the kid and ask himself if that was truly his name. Damian just stared at him, dark, near unnatural circles under his eyes, face set in a fierce frown. “What are you doing here?”

And he remembered the kid being haughty and confident. Snotty, practically. But here…here, he looked lost, exhausted. Sick, almost.

“I…” Damian murmured. He looked past Ric and narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I don’t know.”

“Does Wayne know you’re here?”

“No.” Damian said shortly. “And if he does, he doesn’t care.”

Ric didn’t know what that meant. Sensed it was a can of worms that he did not want to open.

“…Is there someone I can call to come get you? Take you home?”

Damian shrugged. “Probably.”

Ric found himself closing his eyes and sighing. From his brief time with the Wayne family since waking up, he remembered this kid was…weird. Distant. Difficult.

“…Well, then, are you hungry?” Ric asked. “Maybe some food’ll make you feel better.”

“What makes you think I feel bad?”

“Come on.” Ric scoffed. “Came all the way down to Bludhaven to sit on some guy’s cab because you’re having a fantastic day?”

Damian smirked a little at the sarcasm.

“Listen. I know a cool little café down the street. Great gelato milkshakes.” Ric tried. Damian wouldn’t make eye contact. Just remained curled up on himself. Ric huffed and grabbed Damian’s wrist, unwinding it and giving it a gentle pull. “You just gotta try it. Cheer you right up.”

To Ric’s surprise, Damian slid off the car easily, and immediately fell into step with him down the sidewalk. Ric found himself smiling as he led the way.

As they walked, despite his attitude on the car, he found Damian continually sneaking peaks at him, but then shyly looking away if he thought Ric was looking back.

“The scar’s pretty ugly, huh?” Ric asked.

“I have worse.” Damian countered. Then quieter, “You helped sew a few up, actually.”

“Gross.” Ric stuck his tongue out dramatically. “Where’d you get them?”

“On the streets.” Damian answered slyly, like Ric was supposed to understand what that meant. He held his hand out. “Though this one on my thumb was from when you were trying to teach me how to make apple dumplings. You forgot to tell me how to hold the fruit when I was cutting it, and I almost sliced my thumb off. Alfred banned you from the kitchen then.”

“…Huh.” Ric thought out loud. His stomach swirled in discomfort. Something that, if he thought about it, felt a little bit like jealousy. Maybe. He pointed up the street, to the café’s sign. “Sounds equal parts hilarious and almost traumatizing.”

Damian openly stared at him now. Then sighed and looked at his feet. “…Yeah.”

At the café, a waitress waved at them to pick a booth themselves, and that she’d be with them in a moment. Ric veered towards a nearby table and Damian followed, sitting across from him silently.

“…So…” Ric hummed, bouncing his fingers off each other. “What’d you say you came down here for again?”

“I didn’t.” Damian replied simply. He didn’t offer anything else.

“Then…what brings you to town?” Ric asked. “I mean…gotta be something.”

Damian said nothing. Seemed to just sink further into his black hoodie.

“You and your dad fight?”

Nothing.

“…You and the old butler guy fight?”

Damian just blinked at his fork.

“Something to do with your…you know, night life?”

Damian just stared at the table.

“Look, dammit…!” Ric suddenly slammed a fist on the table. Damian jumped, and the waitress who had yet to serve them looked up from the cash register. Ric pursed his lips and leaned forward to whisper. “Look, I’m trying to be nice here, okay? Can’t you give me anything? I mean, you know I don’t want to…”

Ric didn’t finish the thought. You know I don’t want to have anything to do with you or your family.

By the look on Damian’s face, he probably didn’t need to anyway.

Damian just watched him. In his flinch at Ric’s outburst, his hood had fallen from his head. Those circles under his eyes looked so much darker in the open sunlight. His skin so much paler. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in ages, or eaten. And those scars he’d mentioned, Ric could see a few poking out of the neck of the hoodie.

He did not look well.

“I thought…” Damian breathed, then blinked and shook his head, seemingly berating himself.

“You thought what?” Ric asked. Damian shook his head again, leaning back in the booth and looking out the window. “You thought what, Damian?”

Damian kept his mouth shut, though seemed to suddenly be blinking heavily.

“Look if you don’t tell me what’s going on, or why you’re here, I…” Ric sighed, leaned back himself. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Damian closed his eyes at that.

And he remained silent, even when the waitress finally came over. She seemed cautious, and Ric supposed he didn’t blame her, not after he punched the table for no reason. He gave her his best smile anyway, ordering gelato milkshakes for the both of them. She wrote the order on her pad, sparing Damian a glance before spinning away.

Ric was still watching her walk away when he heard a quiet: “…I thought you would remember.”

He looked back at Damian. He’d opened his eyes now, and they were misty, ready to overflow.

“What?”

“It’s been weeks since you woke up. I know Father was pushy and you ran from that. I get it. I get that.” Damian tried. His voice was shaking, and he was trying so hard to control it. “But I thought enough time had passed.”

There was the sound of a buzz, and Damian shifted, pulling out a cell phone. He glanced at the message, but scoffed and placed the phone face down on the table between them.

“…I thought if I came here, if you saw me, I could help you trigger a memory or something. Anything.” Damian breathed. The tears overflowed instantly. “But I’m not enough. I’m not good enough. Again.”

“Damian-”

“After everything you’ve done for me, I can’t do this one single fucking thing for you!” Damian shrieked. The waitress looked up again from the counter. Other customers glanced up too. “I can’t…”

Damian fell into a coughing fit, he was crying so hard.

“…You were the only one who ever cared about me, and I can’t bring you back.” Damian cried. “I can’t bring Dick Grayson back and I don’t…I don’t know if that means you never actually cared about me in the first place or if I’m just more worthless than I thought.”

Ric glanced at the others in the café, everyone blatantly staring now.

“Damian, look…” But Damian was already shaking his head.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Suddenly he was scooting out of the booth. “Forget it.”

“No, you’re okay, it’s-”

But Damian was already running across the restaurant towards the bathroom. The slam and lock of the bathroom door echoed through the silent dining room, and Ric looked out the window, instead at all the patrons now silently judging him.

After a moment, Ric sighed, and reached across the table for Damian’s forgotten phone. He clicked the screen on, and read the message that had been left.

From someone named Todd, reading: Where the fuck are you kid????

Ric waited a moment, to see if that name rang a bell. When it didn’t, he sighed and press the call button.

~~

Damian came out of the bathroom forty-five minutes later, and found the booth he’d been sitting in empty.

Not surprising, he thought. He wouldn’t want to stick around and wait for himself either.

But then the waitress appeared next to him, holding out a Styrofoam cup. “Your friend is outside.” She whispered sweetly. “He had me put your drink in the fridge for you for whenever you’re ready.”

Damian nodded his thanks and took the cup. The woman smiled and pointed towards the window, where Ric could be seen sitting on the curb outside. Damian swallowed the lump in his throat and moved towards the door.

He sat down next to Ric silently, staring intensely at the straw poking out of the cup. Ric was bent between his knees, fiddling with the shoestrings on his boots.

“I wasn’t lying – their shakes are the best in town. Even a boring flavor like vanilla.” Ric hummed almost jovially. Damian nodded, absently rocking the cup back and forth, feeling the weight of it shift between his fingers, the chill escaping into his fingers.

After another moment, Ric sat back up and sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at Damian, then shifted, digging in his pocket, and pulling out the cell phone.

“You left this on the table.” Ric said. “I…I called that Todd guy, who texted you.”

Damian pursed his lips as he took the phone back. “What did he say?”

“Well, he didn’t sound thrilled to hear me. Or to hear this is where you were.” Ric answered with a wince. He glanced at his watch. “He should be here in about an hour or so.”

“Okay.” Damian responded monotonously. “You can go, if you want. No need to be late for your next shift on my account.”

“I don’t work today.” Ric countered just as blandly. “Also – I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“You already did once. What’s once more?” Damian drawled bitterly. Ric didn’t respond to it, knowing Damian meant the amnesia. His decision to leave Gotham and cut Bruce Wayne and his associates out of his life. For exactly what he didn’t say inside the café. But to his surprise, Damian frowned almost instantly. “I’m…I’m sorry. That was rude. I know…none of this is your fault.”

“…I’m sorry your brother’s gone, Damian.” Ric looked to the sky. “I’m sorry I can’t…be who you need me to be.”

“No one ever is.” Damian exhaled. He finally shoved the straw in his mouth. “Not even Dick Grayson was, in some ways. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

The statement left a bad taste in Ric’s mouth. “Regardless – I’m not leaving you here by yourself. You’re what, ten?”

“Thirteen.”

“Close enough.” Ric shrugged. “I’m waiting here with you until your ride gets here. And that’s final.”

“Whatever you say.” Damian shrugged. He slurped on his straw, and hummed thoughtfully. “You’re right, this is good.”

“Told you.”

Damian didn’t answer that. Took a few more sips of the drink. Smacked his lips and whispered, “I’m sorry I came here.”

A car was passing right as he said it, and Ric almost missed it. He had a feeling that was the point. He looked down at him, and once again, Damian wouldn’t meet his eye.

“…I’m not.” He decided. Without warning, he threw his arm around Damian’s shoulders, pulling him into his side. “I don’t know what our relationship was before but…it was nice to meet you. Again. Officially. You seem like a pretty cool kid.”

Damian immediately stiffened in the hold, but didn’t pull away, and he struck Ric as one to do so if he wished to.

“…Is this okay?”

Damian thought a moment, and then just as suddenly – he relaxed into the hold, and even leaned his head on Ric’s shoulder.

“…Yeah.” Damian’s voice was already trembling. After a second, Ric saw a tear drip onto the lid of the milkshake. “This is fine.”

“Okay. Just tell me if it’s not.” Ric murmured, running his arm along Damian’s shoulder. After a moment, in an attempt to give Damian a semblance of privacy, he gently lifted his hood back over his head. The boy gasped a sob in the mockery of a thanks.

“…I miss you.” Damian wailed after a moment. Softly, like he wasn’t allowed to say it, let alone think it. “I miss you so much.”

All Ric could say was, “I know.” And “I’m sorry, kid.”

Damian said nothing else for the rest of the hour they waited, so Ric didn’t either. Just watched the cars as they drove by, waiting for anyone who looked like the contact picture that popped up when he called the one named Todd. Rubbed Damian’s shoulder every so often to offer some comfort.

Damian just tried to calm down enough to drink his milkshake.

Eventually, a car pulled up on the other side of the street, and a teenager who couldn’t have been much older than Damian got out. It wasn’t Todd for sure, but Damian sat up at the sight of him anyway. As the teen crossed the street towards him, he seemed to be hit with a wave of relief.

“There you are.” The teenager breathed as Damian stood.

“Why’d he send you?” Damian snapped, but there didn’t appear to be any malice behind it. He also didn’t seem that annoyed when the other wrapped him in a quick hug.

“Because it was literally taking the rest of them – Goliath and Titus included – to stop Bruce from coming down here himself to get you and check on…” The boy trailed off and glanced at Ric, still sitting on the curb. “…Thanks for watching out for him, Mr. Grayson.”

“My pleasure. Kind of.” He gave an awkward smile. “…Did I know you?”

The boy looked sad, and Ric frowned at the look. He was so, so tired of that look.

“You did.” But that’s all he offered. “Name’s Tim.”

“Tim.” Ric repeated. It didn’t register. “You’re not the one I called.”

“No, Jason’s our older brother.” Tim gave as an explanation. He paused for a moment and glanced at Damian. “You have him in your phone as Todd, right?”

Damian nodded.

“Right, yeah. He was…busy. So I came instead.” Tim tried. “Do you want picture proof that I’m not here kidnapping him or something…?”

“No, no. I have a feeling Damian wouldn’t be standing here if you were.” Ric stood himself, shoved his hands in his pockets. “So…I guess we’re good.”

“Guess so. Thanks again.” Tim instantly whirled Damian around towards the car. “Take care, Mr. Grayson. And I know Bruce always said it to you before but…if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Ric nodded silently, and gave Damian a quick wave. Damian didn’t return it. In fact, since Tim arrived, Damian had not even looked at him.

When they were just hitting the yellow line separating the lanes, Ric called, “Damian?”

Damian glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot and red.

“You’re not worthless. So don’t let anyone make you think you are, okay? Not even me.” He smiled softly. “And get some sleep or something.”

Both Ric and Tim waited for Damian to give a response, but when he didn’t, Tim just turned him back towards the car, a far too fancy looking thing. As they reached the other side of the street, Ric listened as Tim carefully whispered, “Are you okay…?”

Damian shook his head. Tried to rub nonchalantly at his eyes.

Ric turned and started walking back to the bar before they even got in the car.

[blackscarabfilmz]

You Never Know What Someone Is Going Through by Michael Gleason

Another story based on a prompt, this time it was:

Write about a character who can suddenly see through another person's eyes — literally.

It's a well-known adage that “You never know what someone is going through”, usually used to encourage people to be kind to everyone. It's not a bad cliché, but it's not completely accurate either, as I can attest to. I'm not always the nicest person, and I admit that freely and openly, but I've taken strides to become nicer, although not for a totally altruistic reason.

You see, I've been afflicted with a strange curse, after a stressful interaction with an old woman whose slow walking was making it so that I missed out on getting the closest parking spot to my office that I'd seen in weeks, in which I used some choice words that I slightly regret.

“Get out of the way, you old crone! If you can't make it across the street, you should be in a home!” I'd shouted from behind the wheel of my BMW as I tried to swerve around her.

She just glared at me and seemed to mumble a few words, but I didn't stick around long enough to really notice, nor did I care. Afterward, I found that I'd gained the ability to literally see through another person's eyes.

I first noticed it right after arriving at the office that day, after getting a spot in a lot two blocks away, and I noticed that my secretary, Janice, was late for work – again. This was the fourth time that week and probably the fifteenth time this month, and I was pretty annoyed with her.

“If she wants that raise she asked for, she'd better start showing up to work on time. What else could be more important?” I thought to myself as I unlocked the door to my office.

Almost immediately, I was hit with the strangest sense of whiplash, because when I walked through the door, I wasn't in my familiar office, I was in somebody's bedroom.

“What the hell?” I turned around, but saw only a hallway behind me, and not Janice's desk.

The room looked fairly normal, and as I looked down at my hand for my briefcase, I instead saw something disturbing. It wasn't my hand! My hand was usually large and hairy, this was small and dainty, with painted nails.

“Nail polish? But...” I inspected the hand closely and realized I recognized the bright red color.

I rushed across the room, nearly tripping and falling as I also realized I was wearing heels, towards a vanity and looked into the mirror. Gazing at my reflection, my fears were realized and I was staring back at Janice's face. Thankfully, she was fully dressed and seemed to be getting ready for work. My eyes dropped slowly towards my, or rather Janice's chest, and I hesitantly reached a hand towards her blouse.

But I was taken out of my shock as I heard a baby's scream and the bedroom door suddenly flew open, revealing a haggard-looking man with a disheveled beard carrying a screaming child, who couldn't have been more than two. That was right! Janice had been pregnant when we hired her, and she'd had the baby not too long afterward. She came back to work pretty quickly after her maternity leave so I never really thought about her home life after that, her performance in the office was all that matters to me.

Janice's husband definitely didn't look like he was getting ready for work, so that explained why she was bucking for that raise. I made enough money for my wife to be a stay-at-home mom by choice, but my kids are almost fully grown, a daughter in college and a son in high school, so my wife's day can't be nearly as stressful as Janice's husband's.

“He's crying again! What am I supposed to do to get him to calm down, again?” Janice's husband asked as he held the baby out to me.

“I... Uh,” I stuttered, I didn't know the first thing about calming down a baby, that was my wife's department, I hesitated to reach for it. Not to mention hearing Janice's voice coming out of my mouth was off-putting, to say the least.

Suddenly, a dog rushed into the room, one of those small yappy ones, and started barking. The noises were incessant, the baby's crying, Janice's husband's whining, and the dog barking, it was driving me crazy. I clutched my hair with both hands, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, before shouting from the top of my lungs:

“PLEASE, EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!” I shouted, in my own voice, and noticed that everything went silent.

I opened my eyes to see my office in front of me, and murmurs started up from the other members of the office staff behind me. I quickly rushed into my office and shut the door behind me, slumping down in my chair as I tried to rationalize what had just happened to me. I felt so real, but it had to have been a hallucination, right?

I quickly sat down at my desk and tried to clear my head, but my mind kept playing back what I'd experienced. I started working on what I'd needed to get done that day, looking over expense reports, and before long, I heard a gentle knock on my door.

“Come in!” I shouted, looking up to see Janice sheepishly walking into my office. “Glad to see you've decided to grace us with your presence.”

I noticed that she was wearing the exact outfit that I'd seen in the hallucination, but that had to be a coincidence, right? She'd probably worn that exact outfit dozens of times, and that's why my subconscious chose it. I think that's how dreams work, anyway.

“I'm sorry, sir. I really tried to get here on time, but my husband was having trouble with the baby, he was being very fussy today, and things have been really tough juggling that, especially with me working,” Janice explained.

I remained stone-faced, but that was more because her explanation directly mirrored the experience I'd had. But she took my silence as a challenge, to her, I was silent because I was dissatisfied with her punctuality.

“I know that it isn't any of your concern, but if I got that raise I asked for, I could afford to hire a nanny and that would take some of the burdens of childcare off of my husband and me, and I would be able to focus all my attention on my work here.” Janice declared. “It's not greed, and I really do love my job, but I can't be everywhere at once, and it seems like the universe needs me to be.”

After what I'd seen, I believed her, but I couldn't buckle to it immediately. I had a reputation to uphold, besides, a change of heart that drastic might cause people to question things and I don't want anyone to know I'd been in Janice's head.

“I'll consider it,” I said, flatly. “Now, get to work.”

“Yes, sir.” Janice turned on her heel in a way that shocked me, given I'd nearly killed myself simply walking in them, and walked out of my office, closing the door on her way out.

The rest of the morning passed without incident, and I thought that the entire experience was a one-time thing. By lunch, I'd figured out that it was probably tied into that old woman in the crosswalk, but assumed that I'd learned my lesson with Janice, and everything would be normal from then on out. And then later that afternoon, my phone rang, a call from my wife, Diane.

“Hey, honey! What's up?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”

“You bet there's something wrong, Clark! I got Nathan's report card in the mail today!” Diane replied.

“Oh, Christ...” I muttered. “How bad is it this time?”

“Nothing above a C- and most of it is D's and there's an F this time.”

I took a deep sigh and put my face in my hands.

“We are going to have a very long discussion about this when I get home. Is he home yet?”

“Not yet, he's at after-school tutoring, for all the good it's done...” Diane said.

“Make sure he knows he's grounded and won't be playing video games or watching T.V. until we figure out what to do about this,” I grumbled.

“Got it. See you when you get home,” Diane said. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I said, ending the call. “What the hell am I going to do with that boy? Can't he just apply himself?”

As I turned my attention back to my desk, I again found myself in another location entirely. Although this time I recognized the room, I'd been in there enough times for parent-teacher conferences to know that this was Nathan's math classroom. I looked down at the desk and could vaguely make out a reflection, one that I recognized as my son's face.

“Not again...” I whined, in Nathan's voice.

“What was that, Mr. Wilson?” I looked up to see Nathan's math teacher, Mrs. Snodgrass, standing over me.

She was an austere woman, a very old and traditional teacher, reminded me of some of the teachers I'd hated when I was in school, but as a parent, I liked her style. It kept the kids in line. Of course, I liked that personality a lot less more when it was directed at me.

“Nothing, ma'am.” I looked back down at the desk and spotted a math worksheet sitting on it, half-filled in.

“Have you finished the assignment yet?” she asked.

“Not yet, I'm working on it.” I picked up a pencil and started to work on the problem.

Math was my best subject back in school, but the way they were teaching it now was... strange. I didn't understand what it wanted me to do! I did my best and finished the sheet, handing it to Mrs. Snodgrass. I was alone in the room, save for her, which made sense given that tutoring is usually only for those who are truly struggling.

I stood near the desk, waiting as she looked over the sheet. My face fell when she signed and rubbed her forehead with her wrinkled hand.

“Mr. Wilson, did you pay attention at all to today's lesson?” she asked.

“Well, I...” I started to reply. I didn't actually know if Nathan paid attention.

“I don't know what else I can do. I think we're kidding ourselves with the tutoring, it's clearly not doing anything, and I've exhausted all my methods. I'll discuss that with your parents at the next conference, but as for now, you may go.” Mrs. Snodgrass said.

She was giving up on my son like that? If he's not understanding the material, the teacher should be making damn sure she tries everything! Usually, I had the confidence and bravado to stand up to teachers like this, but in Nathan's body, my confidence evaporated, so all I managed to squeak out was a thank you, and I quickly collected his bag and headed home.

Already this experience had lasted longer than my time in Janice's body, and I was eagerly awaiting it to end. I figured it might end when I got to the front door, but it didn't. I walked into the house and found Diane standing, arms crossed, in the foyer. I knew why she was angry, and I averted my gaze.

“Your report card came in the mail today,” Diane said. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I know it looks bad, but...” I started. I wanted to tell her what I'd witnessed from the teacher, but she wouldn't let me speak.

“Wait for your father, he's on his way home now.” she pointed towards the living room.

I took Nathan's backpack off and sat on the couch, waiting for a few minutes until I heard my car pull into the driveway. I sat up, partly wondering if perhaps Nathan was in my body since I was occupying his, but one look at my face as I walked through the door, and I knew that it wasn't the case.

It's strange to see yourself from the outside, I don't think of myself as threatening, but clearly, Nathan did. His heart began racing as I took off my suit jacket and hung it up by the door. The other me, the me in my own body... “Clark”, he walked into the living room after greeting Diane and taking the report card. “Clark” sat down in my favorite chair, and Diane took her customary flank position next to me.

“What the hell are we going to do with you? Do you enjoy failing?” “Clark" asked. “I mean, look at this! Do you think you can get into a good college with grades like these?”

I couldn't believe it, would I really say something like that? Have I lost sight of empathizing with my son? Diane just stood by “Clark” and nodded along with what he said.

“The lessons are really hard, especially math!” I defended Nathan.

“If the lessons are hard, you've got to buckle down and study your butt off! I struggled in school too, you know what I did? I worked hard to not struggle! This is important, it's your future! Why can't you be more like your sister? She never had less than a B!” “Clark” shouted.

I was utterly speechless, not just because “Clark” wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, but also because I could feel just how powerless Nathan felt, with his father, the person who's supposed to be on his side, chewing him out mercilessly. If this really was how I'd been treating him about his grades... that had to change.

“And don't even think you'll be seeing the outside of your room or a classroom until your grades improve. Now go to your room and hit the books!” “Clark” finished.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I stood up and ran towards Nathan's room. As I slammed the door, I felt myself crash back down to Earth as I rocked slightly in my chair. Diane put her hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay, Clark?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“Yeah, I'm fine...” I replied.

“Are you sure you weren't too hard on him? I know his grades are bad, but...” Diane started.

“Yeah, I was a little too hard on him...” I sighed. “I'll handle it.”

I stood up and walked up the stairs, waiting outside Nathan's room. After a few minutes, I knocked on the door.

“Go away!” Nathan shouted.

“Nathan, I've... had some time to think, and I'm sorry. I just... I want you to succeed, but if you're struggling, I need to take the time to help you figure out the problem, not yell at you until it goes away.” I heard the door unlock.

I reached forward and opened the door, Nathan was sitting on his bed, wiping tears from his face.

“I guess I'm just stupid...” Nathan muttered.

“You're not stupid, we just have to figure out how you learn the best. If this tutoring isn't working, maybe we try something different. Say, I was pretty good at math when I was your age, maybe after dinner, I can look over your homework with you. You'll just have to teach me whatever this “new” math they're teaching you is,” I chuckled, and Nathan laughed as well.

“I'd like that, Dad.” Nathan said.

It was a strange experience to be sure, but it taught me something, that I had to be more empathetic and kinder to those around me, particularly when it comes to things outside of their control.

In the weeks following, I've made a lot of strides into being more understanding. With Janice, my other employees, my kids, and even my wife. Seeing things through her eyes is an experience that I've gone to a lot of trouble to avoid. But the curse hasn't gone away, either, because sometimes I'll find myself running out of patience with a cashier or a barista and suddenly I'm seeing things from their perspective. I guess the moral of this story is, “Be kind. Because you never know what someone is going through”.

And trust me, you really don't want to find out.

[quickspinner]

Shifting Tides

A little offering for MerMay! @mangoes-n-cream​ threw out the idea some time ago of a merman Luka based on a betta fish, and we tossed ideas around and this is what I came up with. Betta fish have an extremely strong bite force for their size, so I translated that to physical strength. I still enjoy lionfish mermaid Marinette, so we’re just going to ignore the fact that betta are freshwater fish and lionfish are saltwater fish. It’s magic, just go with it.

Marinette had known Luka, not forever, but for a long time. He’d been her confidant as a confused, frustrated youngster in the throws of first love and unexpected responsibility, and though she’d never been able to read him as well as he read her, she’d learned a lot over their years together. She knew his patterns and how they shifted with his moods, she knew his habits, and she knew when he was putting up a front.

So when he asked her in his gentle, unassuming way if she would spend the day with him, but wouldn’t tell her why or what they would be doing, she had known him well enough to see the thread of tension in his body, the faint suggestion of stripes along his face that weren’t normally visible, the slight tightness around his eyes, though their expression was as soft and admiring as ever. 

It sent a thrill through her that she couldn’t entirely explain and didn’t want to examine too closely, she also knew how still looked at her, even all this time, when he thought she didn’t see, or wouldn’t mind. And lately, she was minding less and less. Marinette teased him for a bit in their usual way, and then agreed to meet him at morningtide. 

When morningtide came, Luka still wouldn’t tell her what was going on, but when he asked her to follow him, she did so with only minimal complaint. Just enough to keep up appearances. 

Really, she would have followed Luka anywhere he asked with even less information than he gave her, but he didn’t need to know that. Not yet, anyway. 

She was close enough behind him that she almost crashed into him when he stopped and turned to face her. He flitted out of her way with an indulgent smile that became a grin when she made a face at him. A quick flip of his tail sent him circling around her. 

“We’re almost there,” he said, possibly more excited than she’d ever seen him. “Will you close your eyes?”

Marinette gave him a suspicious look but he just shot a hopeful, excited one back to her. “Please?” he said softly, floating near. “You can trust me.” 

It was more a question of him trusting her, actually. Luka was many times stronger than she was, but much less likely to accidentally injure her with his strength than she was to injure him with her venomous spines.

She did trust him, though, to know what he was doing, and he trusted her to mind her spines as best she could. 

Tucking her spines close, Marinette closed her eyes. She felt Luka take her hands and place them around his neck, his back bumping into her chest. “Just hold on,” he told her. “It’ll only take a moment.” Marinette joined her hands and let him tow her, trying not to think too hard about the brush of his fins against hers or the rhythm of the current he sent against her as his tail drove them both through the water. His hands stayed on her forearms, strong and reassuring, thumbs rubbing lightly over her skin. 

She could feel the sun through the water and knew they must be fairly shallow. The warmth felt good. Luka stopped and removed her arms from around his neck. “Wait here one moment, I just want to make sure no one’s here that shouldn’t be.” 

Marinette suppressed a smile at this typical territorial caution, though she didn’t like being left behind like this, blind and vulnerable. Luka placed her hand on something—it felt like a rock formation. He’d placed her on its sheltered side so the current didn’t push her. “I’ll call to you when I come back,” he said, and Marinette took this as her cue to let her spines rise into a defensive position, which made her feel a little more comfortable. She set her senses to feeling the water about her, but it was calm and she felt no danger. 

“I’m coming back,” Luka called from somewhere slightly above her, and she flattened her spines again. In moments she felt the press of water from above, and felt Luka’s hand cover hers again. “All clear.”

“I’m shocked,” she teased. It took a special type of brave, or a special type of stupid, to invade Luka’s territory. He was sweet and gentle and relaxed most of the time, but fierce when his family or his territory was threatened. 

“I’m coming behind you,” he warned, and she flattened her spines a little further until she felt his warmth behind her and his hand settle on her waist, just above where her scales ended. HIs touch made her shiver and his hand shifted immediately a little higher, away from the sensitive spot. “Sorry,” he said, but his voice went a little deeper and Marinette didn’t completely believe him. Lips twisting in a slight smirk, Marinette let him guide her toward whatever it was he was so intent on showing her. He was a tactile person, but rarely as openly flirtatious as he had been today, and she was very much intrigued. 

She felt the difference in the light and the change in the current as he lead her inside a shelter of some kind, though she didn’t brush up against any barriers. 

They were in a sort of cavern, but the ceiling was broken in several places, sending shafts of light filtering down through the water. In the spots of sunlight dotted on the walls, the natural outcropping and shelves of the cavern were piled with sea glass, reflecting the light in many different shades of green and gold and white and blue and making shifting patterns of color against the rocks. 

It was a sculpture of light and it was beautiful. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, his voice warm and low and not...hesitant exactly, but tense somehow.

“I do,” she said fimly, and then turned towards him, lifting her hands to his face. “It’s lovely, Luka.” 

“Good,” he said, covering her hands with his own, and the relief in it was palpable. 

“It must have taken you so much time to collect all this,” she said, looking around again. 

“It did,” he admitted, holding her hand to his face, his fingers curling over his, and when Marinette met his eyes, she felt a wave of heat pass through her body as her heart began to beat faster. “You know I’m not an artist, not like you, but...I wanted to do this for you. You make so many beautiful things and I just...I wanted to make something beautiful for you.” 

“For me?” she asked softly. 

“Always for you,” he answered just as softly, taking both her hands in his and tugging her closer. “It’s always—” 

He paused and looked around, expression suddenly wary. “Something’s wrong,” he murmured, letting her hands slip out of his. “Stay here.” 

Marinette watched him in surprise for a moment as Luka swam to the entrance and stopped just inside of it, fins fanning out in a full threat display that made Marinette’s heart flutter for entirely different reasons than intended. He was stunning with his blue-black fins spread to their full extent, the muscles of his back and arms rippling with tension as he scanned for the threat.  

Marinette shook herself and fluffed out her own fins, unfolding fans of black spots on red that contrasted the bright stripes of her tail, the bold pattern declaring a warning as her venomous spines lifted into a defensive position. Ignoring his instructions to stay put, she swam to Luka’s side, careful to stay far enough away not to risk ripping one of his beautiful fins with her spines. He motioned for her to stay back, but she ignored that too. Luka was strong and brave and beautiful but when it came down to practicalities, she was the best equipped to actually incapacitate an enemy. 

After a few moments Luka sighed, and drifted back to her, though his fins remained flared. “I don’t see or sense anything. Perhaps I was mistaken.”

“You checked for danger already,” Marinette reminded him. 

“Yes,” he agreed. “I’m jumpy, I guess. I’m sorry. This was important to me and I don’t want anything to ruin it.” He turned his attention back fully on her, and Marinette’s pulse, which had begun to slow, jumped back into overdrive again. Luka just smiled, amused, she supposed, by her sudden fluster. He knew her as well as she knew him, after all. Possibly better. He had certainly been watching her longer.

Marinette tried to find somewhere to look that wasn’t at the impressive display of fin and muscle before her. “Aren’t you going to put those away?” she asked, swatting playfully at a streak of blue trailing elegantly from his arms. 

“Not if you like them,” Luka said with a slow smile. “Do you, Marinette?” He flicked his tail, sending a little wave across her own flukes and setting the lovely trailing fan of his tail fin dancing. 

“I like yours,” he added, boldly reaching a finger to stroke along the edge of one fin. 

She flicked it away from his finger and he drew back quickly.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, furling his own fins. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Luka,” Marinette said, flipping in the water and sending a pressure wave across his face. “Shut up.” She circled him once, and then again, close enough for her fins to trail across him, and then swam up to where the light poured in again, admiring his collection of treasures. She turned lazily on her back, and then upended to swim down again. 

“Luka,” she asked, facing him upside down in the water, curving her tail over to block the sunlight from her face so that she could see him clearly. “Are you courting me?” 

“Yes,” he said softly, and the simplicity of it set her heart racing. “Are you going to come down here so I can continue? Or would you rather I didn’t?” 

He sounded perfectly calm but she could see the flutter in his gills, the slight differences in his coloration that let on he was not as comfortable as he wanted her to believe.  

Slowly, deliberately, Marinette completed her loop and twisted, letting her momentum carry her against him. He caught her with the infinite gentleness that had always intrigued her, in such contrast with his strength, and his arms went around her as his forehead rested gently against hers. “By all means, continue,” she whispered, stroking slender fingers down his jaw and across his lips. 

“Marinette,” he murmured, “You know I’ve been in love with you for years. There was a time when it hurt you to hear it—” Marinette tried not to wince visibly, though she knew the way she ducked her head betrayed her thoughts to Luka, who had always seen her so clearly, even when her own vision had been dazzled by blinding yellow fins and an even brighter smile. “ —But I was hoping, lately, that you were becoming...less opposed to the idea of me loving you?” 

“Less opposed,” Marinette giggled. “That’s one way to put it.” 

Luka grinned slowly. “Feel free to rephrase it for me.” 

“Must I?” Marinette countered, and then, softer, feeling the crimson creeping up her face, she added, “You’ve never needed words to understand me before.” 

“No,” he said, his voice lowering as he reached one hand up, brushing the backs of his fingers along her cheek before sliding them into her hair to draw her close. 

Marinette let him pull her near and seal his mouth over hers in a kiss that started off soft but became bolder as she responded to him, pressing close and parting her lips for him. She didn’t dare tell him how long she had been hoping for this moment, when they were both finally in synch with each other and their own feelings, after all her foolishness. 

Lost in his kiss, she began unconsciously to match the rhythm of his lightly swaying tail with hers, and Luka moaned softly into her mouth, his hands slipping down to that sensitive area at her waist. “Marinette,” he murmured, nipping at her lips and down her jaw as he pulled her gently closer, blowing a small stream of bubbles against her neck in a way that made her shiver and giggle all at once. “Would you—” 

Something crashed suddenly through the ceiling of the cavern, and Luka threw his body recklessly into Marinette, driving her back and away from the disturbance even as she screamed and pushed him away, flattening her spines so she wouldn’t kill him by accident.

She surged away to get some distance from Luka where she could defend herself without risking him, and saw the source of the disturbance—a burly figure she knew well. 

“Kim, what are you doing?” Marinette screeched, moving towards him. The brown and gold merman fixed his attention on her and made a feral sort of growl that brought her up short, even more so as she caught sight of his face. 

Marinette had known Kim since they were tiny, and she had never seen the ugly purple pattern that was spread on his face before. Nor had she ever seen him look so...angry. Kim wasn’t the calmest of people but he had never looked like that before.

“Kim!” Marinette gasped, and then yelped as her old childhood friend snarled and leapt at her. 

Marinette was more than capable of defending herself but the surprise and desire not to kill one of her oldest friends paralyzed her for a moment. 

Kim was knocked aside as Luka crashed into him, fins on full display and rage in his face. 

“Don’t hurt him,” Marinette screamed, as Luka drove Kim into the wall of the cavern. “Something’s wrong. He won’t talk to me!” 

Luka gave her a quick look that said he would do his best and then he had all he could handle as Kim fought back. The water inside the cavern churned and seaglass leapt and skittered across the wall and sank as they thrashed and struggled, hitting the walls of the cavern. Marinette flitted about in a panic, wanting to help but not sure how. 

Luka’s eyes met hers as he shot her a desperate look over Kim’s shoulder. Marinette understood his dilemma at once; he couldn’t hold Kim off for long without seriously hurting him. Marinette didn’t want either Kim or Luka hurt, but her own venom was deadly; if she intervened, she would kill Kim. For a moment she hung in the water paralyzed with indecision, not sure what to do as her eyes darted about looking for a solution.

Suddenly she spotted something dark on Kim’s neck, just behind his gills, a fluttering bit of darkness that looked attached to him like a remora. No, it was a remora, but it was pitch black, tinged purple when the sun hit it. 

“Luka,” she called, propelling herself forward. “Luka, hold him still.” She bit her lip, watching for her opening. She was going to have to be quick.

After a tense struggle Luka managed to pin Kim down against a rock for a moment, tail working furiously to hold them there as he glanced back at Marinette with a now what expression.

Marinette darted in, skimming past them and slashing out with the spiny fins along her arms, far closer to Luka’s neck than she really felt comfortable with, but there was no time to think of it. She sliced the remora from Kim’s neck and flung it down onto one of the spines at her waist, pushing off from the wall of the cavern to get away from Kim and Luka before one of them flailed against her and hurt themselves.

It turned out to be a needless worry, because as soon as the remora was gone, Kim went limp, and Luka sagged with relief and exhaustion.

Marinette went to him immediately, spines folding down as Luka cautiously released Kim, who just hung limp in the water, the odd pattern fading from his face even as they watched. Luka turned him on his back and checked him over. “Is he all right? Are you all right?” Marinette asked, hesitating as she hovered around them. .

“He’s alive,” Luka said, leaning his hands back against a rock. “He doesn’t seem to be hurt, other than where that thing was attached. Doesn’t look like it even broke the skin, though, just...stuck there.” Satisfied that Kim was all right for the time being, Marinette moved toward Luka and he smiled as she fussed over him, cupping his face and running her hands over him. “I’m not injured.” 

“Are you sure?” she fretted, looking up into his face, and the soft look he was giving her made her face heat. Luka’s widening grin told her he could see the red flooding her cheeks, bringing out the pale spots that were normally nearly invisible. His own pattern flashed at her in response, jagged blue stripes traveling up the angles of his face, and she wanted to pout that his own markings complimented him so nicely, but the world was just unfair to females. “Thank you for trusting me,” she said, dropping her gaze, idly tracing a finger over his collarbone. “I could have hurt you if you’d flinched.” 

Luka chuckled, and kissed her softly. “You are dangerous and strong and beautiful and I adore you,” he told her. “And I would love to pick up where we left off, but…I think we’ll have to have that talk a bit later.” He looked at Kim, still unconscious. “I think we need to consult your father and the Guardian about...whatever this was.”

“Agreed,” Marinette said, shaking her head slightly as her brow furrowed in puzzlement. “This can’t be good, and people will get hurt if it happens again.” 

Luka hummed ascent, caressing her waist gently and then letting her go as he went to pull Kim onto his back. “Let’s go.” 

“Your nest,” Marinette fretted, looking at the scattered seaglass littering the bottom of the cavern. 

“I’ll build another one,” Luka said, sending a comforting wave of current over her with a flick of his tail. “I wouldn’t feel safe here after this anyway. We’ll make it beautiful together.” He caught himself and the stripes flared a little brighter. “I mean...after we talk. If you want to.”

Marinette returned the smile he gave her over his shoulder, and followed him out of the cavern. “Yes, we will,” she murmured to herself, incandescently happy despite the odd and ominous turn the day had taken.