#if they are not given name. whatever this is word soup i think the importance of hajime’s name is rlly good

[paledeep]

i crunched thru kamen rider blade in two weeks tbh so this is definitely word soup isv but one of my fav things about it is how names decree power and utility. like ofc using given/family name shows familiarity but its so very character specific

kenzaki to never have anyone use his given name throughout the show (to my memory pleaaase correct me i would love to be wrong) shows his comfortability with being a hero, something so out of reach and transient, and with keeping people even his loved ones away from him emotionally. i think its also interesting and notable that he doesnt have anyone using his given name at all to the end bc i like the implications that he sets that boundary himself . no attachments makes leaving easier bc he never expects a home to stay and it reminds him from what and of where he comes from

hajime ofc is hajime before being aikawa. genuinely could talk about him and autism and disability forever that is another topic but hajime is called so many things throughout blade. but when ppl call him, its usually hajime, where we lose the respect or affection expected socially that grants someone to use the given name, or aikawa (tachibana and kotaro in my head are notable) to create that distance. the only thing that belongs to him truly is the name hajime and he is that before anything else

also riders who started being riders due to job : family names and riders who fight for identity : given names

[hausofmamadas]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Part 2

⁂

Pairing: Danny Lyon x Kathy Cross

Word count: ≈ 4K

TWs: Allusions to infidelity, love triangles, flirting, angst. (ꔘ) indicates this comes directly from dialogue in the movie.

But whatever it is, it feels important. Like you’d regret it slipping through your fingers. So important, you don’t wanna blink. Cause when you open your eyes again it’ll be gone. Picking up right after part one (read -> here to catch up), at the bar the same night, Danny loses focus on the meeting when he gets a surprise visit from Kathy.

⁂ The ash on his joint’s nearly a half inch long when Cal’s hand waves in front of Danny’s face, knocking it off to scatter onto the barroom floor.

“Earth to Danny, come in Danny.”

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Not only has Danny barely taken a puff of his joint but Frankie was long gone, replaced in front of him now by Cal who’s made his way over from the pool tables to ask for a drag, a request to which Danny has been apparently nonverbal. Yup, too lost in the soup upstairs and now he’s second-guessing this joint he hasn’t even really smoked. Maybe he is more toasted than he thought.

“Need me to take that bud off your hands, bud?” An impeccably-timed Cal speaks to these fears. “Looks like you might’ve had one too many.”

Handing the joint over to Cal gladly, Danny cracks a smile, a real one, “Sure thing, gramps,” because for all his oddities Cal’s the only one of them that feels real and not like a character in a dream he can never fully remember. Besides Kath. “Say, remind me again, what time’s curfew? Don’t wanna be late for supper after all.”

“Well, now,” Cal tips a hat that’s not there, affecting the voice of an old southern grandpaw, “I’d certainly say by sundown, sonny.”

“The fuck’re you two doofs on about?” Brucie, characteristically cranky, looks up from his newspaper, face all pinched like he’s not here for their shenanigans. Which is funny considering the general company he keeps. If shenanigans were an occupation, every one of them including Danny would be bonafide professionals.

Cal leans over to pat him on the shoulder, “Now, now, Brucie, this is a family matter,” before taking his seat at one of the tables.

“Just my fuckin luck.” Brucie rolls his eyes like it’s just Cal being Cal, which it is, “Coupla comedians over here,” and tosses his newspaper on the bar before swiveling his stool around to address the group assembled at the tables. “Alright, alright, ladies. Pipe down, meetin’ll start in about five minutes.”

Danny snags a few crowd photos while everyone’s distracted. These usually turn out to be his favorite, catching people when they think no one’s looking because usually no one is. Scanning the room for another shot, Danny can’t help but shake his head at all the non club-affiliated patrons packed at the front of the bar by the pool tables because he’s yet to figure out why some of the meetings are conducted during business hours. This is made even more baffling given some of their other meetings were held off-hours when the Stoplight was closed and there was less noise. So it seemed no one was opposed to the idea. Why not just have them all then?

Danny grabs his pencil from where it perpetually sits behind his ear and a little notepad from his vest pocket, jotting down to ask Brucie or Kathy, the two most likely to give him a reliable answer, about it later.

“S’at my name I see you writin there? What could you be writin about silly ‘ole me, I wonder?”

“Oh shi– uh, he– hiya, Kath,” Danny jumps right out his shoes, practically three feet in the air, his voice almost as high. “I, uh, didn’t think you’d be comin tonight.”

“Yeah, well my car’s busted, so’s I had to get Benny to pick me up from work and he said he could only do it if we stopped here first ‘fore goin home.”

Danny offers his sincerest condolences with a nod and shrug.

“Boy, I am glad yer here though, I’m tellin ya,” she says, grabbing a piece of gum from her purse and popping it in her mouth. “Nice to have someone’a talk to ‘sides just dese wahoos.”

“Oh yeah? Well, uh,” searching the congregation through the cigarette smoke that’s filling the fiberglass shields around the fluorescents so it looks like everyone’s moving in a tank of dusty water, Danny spots a sleek crop of honey blonde hair seated up front and off to the side, “what about Benny?”

She waves her hand. “Please. You know better ‘an anybody, dat boy don’t talk. And I love him to death but he’s a wahoo, same’s any of ‘em. But hey, who says you can’t love a wahoo.”

“Not me,” Danny agrees, smirking privately to himself, as was the custom these days any time he talked to Kathy about well, pretty much anything. Given so many opportunities to practice, he’s become well-versed in trying not to look like he’s enjoying himself as much as he is. See, it’d be a problem if it was a problem. But it’s not. Not at all.

Bringing his camera up to snap a picture of the group gathered around Johnny, he can’t help but chuckle at how it looks like a scattered Sunday night mass if mass was held in the smokestack of a hay bale on fire. A hay bale with billiard tables and a jukebox.

Kathy leans over wanting in on the joke, “What’s so funny over dere?”

“Ah, it’s noth– it’s ju– well, it’s hard to explain.”

“Sheesh.” She shoots him a look that would’ve been withering were it not for the smile on her lips and in her eyes. “You been hangin ‘round Benny too much. I swear one’a these days, you’ll go quiet on me yet.”

“C’mon, you know I’d never,” Danny says, smiling so much he’s struggling to line his eye back up with the viewfinder.

“Oh, does’at mean you’re like me, then, huh? Not enough, whats’a word–” She snaps her fingers in an attempt to summon it, which she does. “Discipline. Not enough discipline to be dat stoic.”

“It’s not that so much as,” he flashes a cheeky grin, “I’m just not cut out for that kinda commitment.”

“Y’know,” Kathy crosses her arms, shakes her head, and just to have something to do, starts kicking the leg of the unoccupied barstool in front of her. “I used to think you Brooklyn boys were aaall trouble. Just– y’know, on account of all’sa movies I seen, right. Buncha meatheads, mobsters, criminals n’ such. But you Danny Lyon, you’re just a doll, aren’t ya?”

“Am I?” The blood’s warming his cheeks already and he falls back on some well-worn sarcasm to save face. “Well, don’t go blowin my cover or these guys’ll boot me out on the street and I’ll have nothing to show for the last six months.”

Smiling, she drags her thumb and her forefinger across her lips, locks and throws away the key.

Danny turns his attention back to the meeting that’s started, trying to make like he’s been industriously picking out shots and listening. Not that it mattered if he wasn’t. His club membership was little more than ceremonial, a kid’s costume. Sure, he had colors now and his own bike, a junker Cal chopped together because he got sick of Danny piggy backing on his all the time. He joked about it when he gifted it to Danny. Much as it’s been a treat chauffeurin you around, if we do it much longer people’ll start to think we’re going steady. Now, I’m all for broadening your horizons but I’d hate to be the one to compromise your journalistic integrity, y’know, being with a respectable lady like myself.

But neither of those things made him integral to the day-to-day goings on of the club. Although tonight they’re talking about whether to approve the formation of a St. Louis chapter, so it’s more than the usual shop talk, even if the answer is a likely yes since Johnny’d already given the go-ahead to Milwaukee last year. Kathy had told him a guy named Fat Jack, or Big Jack, or Big Fat Jack(ꔘ) had to battle it out with Johnny for that one. Whether that’d be the price of admission for St. Louis remained to be seen.

“Say, I gotta question.” Kathy makes a move to claim Danny’s undivided attention again, the subject of an apparent tug-of-war between herself and the club. “I been wonderin, how d’you know when to take the picture?”

She’s yet to win that war on the Benny front but she’s well ahead on this one, what with Danny all-too-happily taking the bait. “Hm? What d’you mean?”

“Y’know like how d’ya know what’s gonna make a good photo? And do they all come out lookin how they look when you’re peekin,” Kathy points her index finger, retracting and extending it a few times at the viewfinder, “through that thing, er what?”

The camera in his hands comes down slow with the steadiness of an elevator dropping from floor to floor and he fidgets with the camera strap like he’s uncomfortable with the question. He might be. There’s something intimate about it. What’s more though is he doesn’t have a great answer. There’s no easy way to summarize what he’s devoted the last seven-some-odd years perfecting. The even more embarrassing part is that he’s never really given it a lot of thought. Not conscious thought, at least. He just sorta knows. But that seems like a cop out somehow and he doesn’t want to give her that kind of answer. Because nothing’s worse than questions met with answers that don’t really answer anything at all.

“Heck, I didn’t expect that to be such a stumper.”

“Oh–?” Danny snaps to, summoning a gentle smile to reassure her the dead air response isn’t because he’s bent out of shape about it. “Oh, no. I don’t– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– it’s just, to tell you the truth, it’s not something I think about.”

“Well now,” she elbows him lightly, “I find that hard to believe.”

“I guess– well, do you mean in a technical sense, as in how do I frame a shot? Or how do I find something I wanna take a picture of in the first place?”

“Mmm, the second one,” Kathy chuckles. “I think.”

Thumbing the advance lever, Danny’s gaze is now stuck on all the club members seated in front of them, “Hmm, well–” trying to find a way to break down what’s been, for all these years, as good as muscle memory. “I guess it’s a gut feeling more than anything. Like if you’ve ever been in the middle of somethin– the thick of a scene, and then stopped a second to look around, right?”

Eyes narrowed like she’s thinking intently on what he’s saying, Kathy bobs her head up and down.

“And something about it– doesn’t even have to be anything grand, y’know. Might just be, you like the lighting. Or the gestures people are makin, having a conversation. Or the look on someone’s face when they’re concentratin on something. But whatever it is, it feels important. Like you’d regret it slipping through your fingers. So important, you don’t wanna blink. Cause when you open your eyes again it’ll be gone. Not gone gone, y’know, just arranged a little different than it was, right. Cause the moment’s different. And you wish you could sustain it somehow, bottle it like a ship so you can see it any time you want. What it feels, looks like, sounds like. I guess– well yeah, anyway.” Danny’s voice drifts off with the smoke and the bar chatter and the music from the jukebox. “When I get to feelin like that, that’s how I know.”

“Wow.” The word tumbles out slow and for a second, it rings out like she’s the only person speaking in the whole bar before getting swallowed back up in the cacophony. “Seems like a lot for somethin you claim ya never thought about.”

Danny’s mouth twists off to the side in a self-effacing smirk and he hangs his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well alright then, Mr. Poet, so what’s so special ‘bout all’a this,” Kathy sidles up closer to him, gesturing in front of them, hand limp at the end of her wrist like she can’t be bothered. “What could be so important here?”

Head swiveling from Kathy, to the meeting, then back to Kathy, Danny gets an idea. He ducks, lifting the camera strap over his neck and hands it to her. She meets this with a blank look like he’s just presented her a dead fish.

“C’mon, set your bag down,” Danny laughs. “I’ll show ya.”

There’s a reserved smile as she uncrosses her arms, slides her purse off her shoulder, flopping it on the table next to them, and holds her hands out to accept the camera with some hesitation. “How’m I gonna know if I’m holdin it right? I don’t wanna drop it. Then you’ll really have a reason to not talk to me.”

“Well, you’re in luck cause,” Danny holds the strap open like he’s awarding her an Olympic medal, “that’s what this is for.”

She grabs the camera to keep it from swinging too much as he guides the strap over her head and lays it gently around her neck. “Gosh, this is heavier’n it looks.” Once it’s on, she starts pulling her hair out from underneath it.

Danny shrugs, “Guess I’m used to it,” helping to smooth the collar of her denim jacket that’s gotten flipped up, thanks to the weight of the camera. Then he turns back to the group, waving her over to stand in front of him. “Alright, so what feels important about this. Or I dunno, what I like, I guess, is–”

Kathy keeps glancing back at him over her shoulder as she steps in front, hanging on every word like she might miss something crucial.

“–is the lighting here.” From behind her, Danny gestures at the camera. “Go ahead, take a look. See how smoky this part of the bar is, how it’s accumulating under the hoods of the fixtures, reflectin the light? But then all the space in between is real dark, right. S’cool, I was thinkin it looked like a buncha little lightning storms over everyone’s heads.”

“Oh yeah,” he can hear the smile in her voice, “lookit that. Could be like lil’ lighthouses, them.”

“Go ahead, take a couple.”

“What, me?” She’s incredulous and he could kick and drag himself across the pavement on the street right outside for thinking it’s as adorable as it is. “Didn’t you just take some?”

“Sure, but people have shifted around in their chairs, the smoke’s hangin a little differently now. Could be your shot’s better than mine. Go for it.”

“Huh, alright. So what do I do. Press this here, den?” Her finger taps the shutter button.

“Yup, press that and then–“ he reaches over her shoulder to place her thumb on the advance lever, “pull this. Yeah, press, then pull. Just like that.”

Stifling a giggle of pure joy so as not to disrupt the meeting, she nabs a few photos, “Say, this is a gas. I see why you wanna do this all’a time,” before breaking away to note with some skepticism, “the chattin, though. Y’know, with the microphone an’ tape deck ya cart around practically half yer size. That, not so much.”

“Really?” Danny says, sticking his hands in the pockets of his vest because without a camera, he doesn’t really know what to do with them. “See, I would’ve thought that’d be your favorite part.”

“Oh? Why’s dat?”

“Cause you sure like talkin.”

Conceding with a wry smile to cushion the blow of the accompanying eyeroll, she turns back to snap a couple more.

At the front of the assembly Benny tips his chair to lean on the back legs, his head hanging over the top rail, cigarette dangling from his mouth, looking bored yet untroubled in his boredom, when he spots Kathy with the camera.

“Please tell me you’re gonna get–”

A click sound answers Danny’s question before he can finish asking as Kathy pulls the lever to take another one. “Aaaaalready on it, Mr. Lyon. Dontcha worry.”

There’s no possible way he can hear them over the noise, but Benny, in a stroke of luck or genius or divine intervention, winks at Kath, baiting her to take another one because he knows it’ll make for a better shot. This time Danny doesn’t even have to open his mouth because Kathy’s finger beats him to the punch. Click.

“See. Told ya, yours could turn out better than mine.”

Kathy turns back around, face lit with a smile so bright, one he’s not sure he’s seen since in months, not since their first interview at the laundromat. “Boy, you weren’t kiddin none, I’ll tell ya,” she says, pulling the strap over her head to return the camera tentatively like she might be sad to part with it. “Hey, maybe one’a these days I’ll have yer job, huh?”

“Look at you,” Danny accepts the camera, as she passes it back with one hand and smoothes her hair with the other, “masterminding my retirement. If I were any wiser, I might think you were tryin to get rid of me. And after all that back-n-forth about me not talkin to ya.”

Her eyes get real wide. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister.” Even as she’s laughing while she says it, she’s also gripping Danny’s arm, holding him in place before he might get the chance to dissolve before her, float right up to the ceiling fans, and diffuse into the air completely. “I take it back, ya hear me, I take it back!”

But he’s got her on the hook now, “You sure?” so he keeps going, “I mean, I know where the door is, I can always just–” skipping his index and middle fingers to the front of the bar, a sneak preview of his supposed exit.

“So help me,” hand on her hip, Kathy wags her finger at him, eyebrows halfway up her forehead, “Dann– Daniel Llll-Louis Lyon, if you go anywhere–”

“Louis??” Danny starts cracking up so hard, he nearly drops the camera. “Who’s Louis?? That’s not even my middle name!”

She smiles, all cat that caught the canary. “Oh, I know. But it sounds scarier, don’t it? Y’know put the fear’a God in ya. An’ all that.”

Still laughing, “Sure,” Danny mimes the sign of the cross, shoulders shaking on every beat of Father, Son, Holy Ghost. “Put the fear of I-don’t-know-what, anyway.”

The sound of chair legs screeching across the checkered tile floor marks the end of the meeting and Danny hasn’t been paying a lick of attention. He'll have to ask Cal about the club’s verdict on St. Louis later, or else eavesdrop on Brucie and Johnny in one of their many little barside confabs of mumbles and grumbles. When Benny starts making his way back to them slowly, taking his time as he stops to shake a couple guys’ hands, loans a cigarette to another who’d run out, Danny starts to sweat, suddenly all too aware that Kathy’s hand has slid down his forearm and is holding his wrist now.

“Heya, Kath?”

“Huh?” she says, absently, smiling at Benny from across the room.

“You uh– you out to take hostages, here? Or—?”

“What’s ‘at, now?”

Danny gestures at his wrist with an index finger.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and drops her hand, taking a step back toward the table where she’d set down her purse. “Silly me.”

His eyes dart over to Benny to see if he’d noticed the exchange but he’s too busy dodging a conversational trap with Cockroach, gearing up, no doubt, to regale him with some loony story. Probably waxing poetic about bugs. The tension in Danny’s shoulders melts away as he sighs pure relief. By the time Benny makes it over to them, Kathy’s got her purse back on her shoulder and her hands in her pockets like she and Danny are less than strangers, just making small talk.

A tender kiss lands on her cheek as Benny slings an arm over her shoulder. “So? The kid’s teachin’ camera classes now?”

It should bother Danny, Benny calling him ‘kid’ given the two of them are pretty close in age. But for some reason, coming from Benny he doesn’t mind. “Wasn’t much teachin to speak of. You won’t believe the coupla ace photos she took.”

Benny’s brows scrunch together like he’s already forgotten his own role in staging the perfect shot.

“Yeah, she’s regular Cam-Jam over here. Caught two of you when you were leaning back in the chair. I’d put money on ‘em bein the best of this roll.”

“Beg yer parden? Cam-Jam? Don’t go pokin fun at me just cause yer envious’a my natural talent.”

Danny laughs. “Nonono, it’s a compliment. Means you’re jammy with the camera. I used to get called it back in college. It’s kinda like, uh— what d’ya call— beginner’s luck. Only your luck don’t run out.”

“Hear that, babe.” Benny kisses Kathy on the nose and she giggles, playfully swatting him away, an exchange so tender and sweet it actually smarts. “Think he’s sayin you got ‘the eye.’”

“Yeah.” Danny lights up with recognition. “Exactly right.”

“Ah, so yer sayin I gotta future in this business of yers. Well okay, whats’a next lesson, Mr. Poet-Professor-Danny?”

“Hmm. I’ll have to go over the curriculum and get back to ya on that.”

Fishing around for a cigarette in his jacket pocket, Benny’s got that far away look in his eye like they’ve already lost him. Which makes it all the more surprising when he opts to prolong the conversation by asking Danny, “So, St. Louis?”

“Uh, yeah.” Having found the cigarette but looking lost for his lighter, Danny flicks his own out to light Benny’s smoke, remarking cautiously, “So Johnny’s gonna do like they did with Milwaukee.”

It’s statement enough to sound like an answer to the question but question enough that Benny still has to confirm. Danny wouldn’t have to ask Cal what happened in the meeting after all.

“Mm-hm. Probly go the same way but–” Benny looks over, blowing a funnel of smoke in the direction of Johnny. “They got heart to show first. So, you in?”

“Goin down this weekend?”

Benny nods.

“Mm, guess it depends.”

“What,” arm still over her shoulder, Benny uses it to give Kathy a little jostle, “need Ms. Cam-Jam to help with your book report?”

“Nah, it’s more, I was actually wonderin—”

Brows scrunched again, the closest Benny ever comes to looking confused is just Marlon Brando.

“—how likely you are to put your fist through another car window,” Danny says, grinning.

Rolling her eyes, Kathy pops the gum in her mouth with manifest disapproval.

“Mm,” Benny appraises the odds, ignoring all five-feet, four-inches of reproach brewing right next to him, “likely as any other day.”

“In that case, ‘course I’m in.”

“Oh not you too, Danny.” Kathy smacks him in the shoulder before crossing her arms. “You know he don’t need any more encouragement, getting inna trouble. I thought you were s’posed t’be the grown up in the room.”

Benny’s quick to Danny’s defense. “S’okay, hun. I’ll have him back in time for camera class.”

So Danny tacks on, “Yeah, and I’ll have him back in one piece for– I dunno, detention.”

Looking at both of them like she could bonk their heads together right there, Kathy just sighs. “I’ll say, if this isn’t the most cracked school I ever heard of, lemme tell ya.”

“Hey,” hit with some kind of revelation, Benny snaps to, almost animated - or animated as Benny gets, “how long’s it take to make the pictures… y’know, pictures?”

“Not long. I’ll probably develop these when I get home tonight, maybe tomorrow mornin. Why?”

“Next time you stop by the house, bring the ones our girl here took.”

“If they turn out to be any good,” Kathy mumbles, blushing.

“I don’t need to develop ‘em to know they’re good. I mean, there’s always a chance the film got overexposed or I s’pose I could fuck up developin them. But, barring major snafus, those ones’ll be printworthy.”

“Yeah? I hope so. Aright, c’mon Benny, take me home. My feet’re achin somethin awful n’ I been lookin forward all day to dat pint of mint chocolate chip we got inna freezer.”

Eyes cast off in the direction of the door, Benny plants a kiss of compliance on her forehead. And with that, the two take their leave, delayed only by Kathy’s turning back every so often to toss a few fretful glances Danny’s way. It’s strange, the look she’s got on her face as she disappears out the front doors of the Stoplight.

The more he’s thinking about it, the more he feels the rope tangled around his heart gets pulled taut by the eighty-pound anchor in his stomach. A feeling not unlike being crushed by a boa constrictor.

Yeah. Miss you too, Kath.

It’d be a problem if it was a problem. But it’s not. Not at all.

═

taglist: @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @ashlingiswriting, @tofuwildcard, @cositapreciosa, @axreliono, @bellinitini, @complete-nonsequitur, @when-did-this-become-difficult, @ladygoatee (tagged everyone I previewed this to in wc but no pressure to read bc I know not everyone is in this fandom)

[ansbobcar]

EP 5. Omens of the future

WORD COUNT. 2177

Link to overview

_ _ _ _ _

Dear Diary,

I find these meals odd. It’s always freshly made every morning. No shortcuts. No nothing. Just fresh produce and food is used. Apart from the salt, pepper and spices, each meal I’m given doesn’t seem to use anything preserved.

Like today for example, she made sizzling fried rice that was extra hot still when I had it for lunch.

She then added apple slices too after I told her I liked fruit punch. when I answered her question about my favourite food.

She tends to make me whatever unless I suggest her something but when I check the recipes myself, they’re always made in large batches. What does she do with the leftovers? Does she give them to her friends? But she was only friends with Rayne Ames and Max Land. Decent students. But not girls.

Maybe I’ll get her to give me Foie Gras for Friday. It’s been a while since I’ve tried it.

Fortunately, nothing too terrible has happened. It’s still guaranteed that I’ll be ranking 1st for the finals although I’ve been bested by a 1st year in this little prestigious group known as the Magia Lupus. His name is Abyss Razor. He seems a bit obsessed with Abel but it’s easy enough to ignore as long as he covers his Evil Eye with a bandage. So I’ve now become the 3rd Fang.

Dear Diary,

I can’t tell if it’s because of the letter my parents sent about the change to my bedroom’s curtains or if it’s because of the pickled radish soup that I had for lunch, but I’m feeling like dirt again.

I get it, Mudorus is mud and I should make jokes to cheer myself up but I don’t feel like it. I think I’ve spent more time studying recipes and looking at cuisine books instead of studying for the honour rolls exam over the summer break. If I miss it again, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at his eyes again when I go back.

The thought of going back leaves more than a sour taste in my head. It makes me remember expired milk. 

Maybe I should ask her for more dessert. She’s been curious about who I usually hang out with. She seems eager to cook. What is she trying to become? A baker?? A patissier??

Thankfully, I write this whole diary in a cipher instead of a lock. So only I can read it.

Dear Diary,

SHE PUNCHED MY ARM!!! SHE PUNCHED IT THAT SHIT HURTS!!! Thankfully, she still had some of that ultra healing potion we bribed the nurse of. If you’re wondering why she punched it…

I’m not telling you. You better forget this future me.

Dear Diary,

I think I severely underestimated her capabilities. She knows how to make anything to fill a stomach. Anything. ANYTHING.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t know how to make potions.

Dear Diary,

… news.

_ _ _

Every Easton student was gathered in the auditorium for an assembly. It allowed for the entirety of the Middle School and High School sections to be placed inside comfortably. The teachers held grim faces as they ushered the students to quiet down. The air already heavy as they drew close the curtains and Wahlberg walked up to the stage.

“Students and teachers, thank you for allowing us to have this sudden assembly,” he began before taking a deep breath; “Unfortunately, the matter I have to discuss is rather important and I would like everyone to think first and hold back on their words and audible reactions as I’m sure there have been rumours and word going around already by those who have gone to the nearby towns last weekend,” carefully eyeing certain individuals from the crowd.

“It pains me to say but…”

‘But?’

“The Divine Visionary Alexa Ivona, known as ‘The Voice Cane’... has been murdered.”

Audible gasps were heard yet no one dared to speak from the old man’s warning.

Darren simply crossed her arms at the news. ‘What happened over the weekend?’

“All that has been disclosed by the Bureau are the following statements,” Wahlberg then began to list the following:

Her body was suddenly displayed at the venue of her postponed charity concert on the 5th of June around 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

The Hysteria that ensued following the reveal of her deceased body caused a stampede. Fortunately, only 12 people were injured out of more than 2,000.

“Thankfully, none of you were caught up in the investigation.”

The Bureau has confirmed that Alexa Ivona was not killed by any of the witnesses at the scene.

‘That sounds like bullshit,’ Darren told herself, on the verge of tapping her feet impatiently. ‘Whoever put her there was definitely there to see it.’

‘There’s no better satisfaction for the killer to display her like that,’ she tried to concentrate on the old man’s words. ‘The young children who had their dreams crushed by that sight…’

“Let this be a reminder for those considering to be Divine Visionaries that you will be expected to risk your life for society’s benefit, like I myself have once before,” he added with a more sombre smile.

‘This rule is absolutely ridiculous,’ she held her tongue; ‘Especially considering the future someone like Alexa and all the other Visionaries had if they didn’t choose that path.’ Becoming a Divine Visionary is stupid. If only she could resurrect Adam Jobs’ soul and consciousness for him to see the mess his unfinished actions brought him or talk to his ghost, she would do so in a heartbeat. 

Glancing to her left she is only greeted by conviction. ‘But why?’ she grimaced. She’ll have to ask him. If anything, that girl’s death should waver people’s willingness as the reality of such a terrible job would dawn upon them. ‘What’s your goal with such a position?’

“That is why we have our coin system in order to find candidates for our candidate exam, and only the top few will be considered as candidates. Each school is only able to pick 3 suitable candidates for the Final Trimagicathlon Stage.”

‘So that’s why he was shocked when I gave him a coin,’ readjusting herself. ‘It was a good thing I raked quite a bit of the coins in those practices. Might trade them for a favour or 2.’

“Unfortunately, we will be continuing classes right after this assembly as nothing has been postponed. Thank you for your understanding.”

That means… finals are in 3 weeks. ‘I should focus on that first.’

_ _ _

“Rayne,” she nudged him with her elbow as she finally caught up to him, “why are you interested in being Divine Visionary?”

He seemed more sour than usual with his gaze fixated behind him in the crowd. “I don’t want orphans to be discriminated against,” he uttered under his breath as the large swarm of steps disappeared as they continued walking. Her face was visibly wondering the reason and he continued. “I have a younger brother in the middle school section, we’ve been unwanted since we became orphans in the capital.” His fists tightened, imagining their harsh experiences once again as he turned his face away from her.

Discrimination against young orphans, she looked down. ‘Such a thing didn’t exist in the periphery regions ungoverned by the elite.’ Cryptically she muttered, “Perhaps if we had met earlier, things would’ve changed for the better,” much to the half-blonde’s confusion.

“Let’s head back to class.”

‘At least over there they could be adopted and have nothing to do with the dangers of the capital.’

‘But that can only exist in an ideal world.’

_ _ _

“Marshtomp,” she called out like a child crankily, frustration evident on her boorish face. “Do you even have friends?” she eyed him sceptically as she used her quill to continue writing down the key ingredients of the base formulas she didn’t learn. He seemed to hum while sipping on his fruit punch. She doubted it was handmade. Probably used additional sugar to make it sweet. “What do they like to munch on?”

Abel liked Cherry Tomatoes, Abyss always carried around rice balls with him, the newbies seemed to eat a lot of things, he remembered. Pancakes, Hamburg steak, and he didn’t remember any more. “They don’t seem to like sweet things. They always talk about savoury dishes.”

“But sugar gives dopamine right? Dopamine is the happy hormone,” she reasoned, passing over the sheet. “Plus my aunty says that eating savoury things can be tastier after eating something sweet.”

‘That’s some wild ass aunt logic,’ quickly skimming through the sheet before circling the incorrect answers.

“Then something that isn’t too sweet,” he reluctantly suggested, passing it back.

“Sure.”

"Woah," Love Cute, a recent addition currently in the 6th fang in their club, ogled at his packed lunch. "When did you get the time to make that?" curiosity bubbled in her tone as she looked at the brightly patterned clothed box he took out to the table.

A whole meal. Light snacks were at the top section, sliced bunny apples along with a row of omelette, rice and vegetables each. Followed by a flask of warm soup and another container with cake that didn’t smell of margarine. This feels like overkill.

Snatching the cake, she smiled with glee before she slowly scanned the outside. A note. "'Share with friends.'?" She read aloud. ‘With friends’? Wait a minute…

"GUYS," she called out, to the others in the room with haste. "WIRTH HAS A GIRLFRIEND???"

He whipped his head back towards her words, shoulders tense. "WHERE'D YOU GET THAT FROM???"

"WHO ELSE WOULD FUCKING WRITE THIS IF IT WASN'T YOUR GIRLFRIEND??" She pointed at the note aggressively. "AIN'T NO WAY A TRYHARD LIKE YOU PULLED SOMEONE BEFORE ME!!!" She gripped onto his cloak with another hand. “I’M CUTE YOU KNOW THAT???”

"If you want the cake, you can have it,” he shrugged off.

"This isn't about the cake anymore," she gritted, releasing him. "It's about who made it!" Immediately popping open the lid. Her eyes watered as she chowed down on a slice. "It's so fluffy and light, I... NEED TO KNOW WHO MAKES IT!!!"

"Ain't telling."

She lightly slapped his arm before holding onto it tightly as he tried to walk away, "Tell tell tell tellllllll!!!!"

“No!” Quickly flicking his wand out of his predicament, immediately he traversed to the spot and sighed. ‘Why did that egotistic pink bitch have to bring everyone’s attention to that note!!!’ It wasn’t obvious to him that his face had heated up at those words.

“Who else would fucking write it but her?” He argued, exasperated by the situation, as his mind ran back to her face. Bitter evident on his face but if they knew it was her… yeah he didn’t want to hear it. His reputation was at stake.

Why would they of all people want to meet with someone like her?

It doesn’t make sense.

No.

He’ll figure it out for sure this time, dashing out through mud.

_ _ _

Having just left her extra catch up lesson, she noticed Rayne at the door and greeted him with little worry. “What’s up? Bunver’s not cold right?” Trying to figure out if the issue was with his bunnies, but his expression was more aloof than usual instead of stern. Rigid too as he silently listened to her words. She just stood infront of him, eyeing him like a puzzle, as she folded her arms and tapped her foot patiently.

‘He’s taking a while to respond.’ 

He seemed to be deep in thought, she told herself as she waited.

And waited.

“Can you have a normal conversation with me atleast?”

“... supplies,” he uttered blankly. Puzzling her further.

‘I don’t even know a mind reading spell, what’s he trying to say?’

Fortunately for you readers, Rayne Ames had a hard time assembling obvious yet not obvious words for his simple proposition: “Me and Max were wondering if you wanted to go out with us, this weekend. I was supposed to do so last week but you were gone so it slipped by mind. I’m buying stuff for the bunnies.”

Unfortunately, his social brain crashed and foamed at the words he had to process.

“Supplies,” he croaked again. “In town. You. Me. Max.”

If it wasn’t for Darren’s ability to understand such simplistic words, Rayne would’ve been left to sleep in dust. She nodded with little problem.

“Sure. In the morning? I’ll make sure to double check what to get.”

With a pained yet oddly guttural battle cry, a familiar student appeared. Mudkid, interrupting their conversation. “YOU PSYCHO! I WANT A REMATCH RIGHT NOW!” He puffed without another moment to spare, wand pointed at her.

A rematch?

“Darren,” Rayne sternly called to her, but she put her hand out to stop him.

She scoffed at his attitude with a smile, “Even if I beat you again? I’ve improved if you think I’m only going to beat you with a single spell like last time.”

_ _ _

HIIIII It's like Friday 16th when I copy and paste it onto tumblr. If you follow me on ao3 (ansyuhadzi fancily) then you'll see it's updated till ep 7 cuz I'm... impatient and stressed.

I've got coursework and studying to do so I will prolly update less frequently here and might update on ao3 out of sheer convenience becuz of the tags... they're a pain to update ngl.

Hopefully I'll still do every other week updates.

[yaldev]

Bruzek's Flags

Living in the Oracle’s consciousness came with certain inconveniences. Decadin had no sensory inputs but those shared by his host. His eyes were not closed, but removed—he could not see the darkness. Maybe the gods in here could handle it, but Decadin was only ever a man.

He distracted himself with what faculties were available. He recreated old songs and cursed when he forgot a lyric. He trawled his imagination and dug up an old idea of a Terminus office building, which he modeled in three dimensions and rotated at ludicrous speeds. When the entertainment value ran dry, he fixated on old memories. He handled crystal bugs, ate soup in a sunrise and argued with titans of industry and military, struck now by the wiser things he could have said. Most of all he replayed his first meeting with the Oracle, telling himself this was the most important memory to keep alive, as it came closest to explaining how he, or whatever was left to call “he,” was now here, whatever “here” could mean.

The Oracle could see it all. “Anything to never think of Lhusel,” she thought, and it intruded on Decadin’s mind.

Decadin shoved that thought away.

“You think so much of one broken friendship, and not the families slain in your Empire’s name.”

He was not getting away from this. “Why would you even ask that? You know that bothers me too, but they weren’t part of me and my story like Lhusel was. That’s just how humans work.”

“Want to see something? You’ll go mad if I don’t feed you.”

“I’ll take anything.”

“Perhaps you can make better sense of this than I,” she said, and she poured a vision into Decadin’s mind. His eyes faded back in, and his ears and nose and skin. He was a ghost at a ceremony.

Bruzek unraveled a scroll, read its magic nonsense aloud, and shoved it back in his pocket. “Test,” he said, and all could hear him as clear as if he were standing right before them.

Decadin tried to frown, but he had no mouth. “When was this? Or when will it be?”

“Now,” thought the Oracle, “but far away.”

Bruzek started talking, and the acolyte ignored what he said to focus on how he said it.

“He’s bad at this,” Decadin thought, “can’t imagine he wrote this himself, but he memorized it word for word.”

“You’re so sure,” the Oracle thought.

“Debate society kids like me did the same thing. If he hasn’t fixed it by now it’s because he hasn’t had to. You don’t need to say anything interesting in the military, you just stick to the script. What are those banners?”

“Battle flags, Bruzek’s own. Now that he’s High Commander, he can institute them—”

“He got to High Commander talking like that?!”

“Don’t be so harsh.” The Oracle smirked. “He’s just trying to copy you.”

“...never seen before,” droned Bruzek, “but the vision you have demonstrated in your studies and training has given your Empire confidence that you can face those threats and do what needs to be done.”

Decadin wished his ears would fade back out. “Getting millions killed? Is that how he copies me? You can mock my style but I was never this… generic.”

Bruzek was not worth Decadin’s attention. The acolyte turned his gaze to the audience, the commissioned commanders in shirts and ties. They looked more like desk workers than warriors. At least that was honest. There was no life in their eyes. Whatever the speech was trying to do, it…

Decadin’s attention went back. “Maybe genericism is the point.”

He felt the Oracle’s interest pique. “Go on.”

“Ideas aren’t the reason he leads, but it’s not about following a script either, because then the words would matter. No, this isn’t about what he says to them. The point is, he’s at the front and they have to listen. This is a graduation speech?”

He felt the Oracle nod.

“So this is what the Army is about now. What learning is about, if you’re Ascended.”

Bruzek’s tone changed. “Okay, I could go on another five pages or we could skip to the important part. You’re adults, your time is valuable, you get it. What do you say?”

Decadin saw consciousness return to the soldiers’ eyes. They answered with mild laughter here and there, but no objections.

“Alright! Ascended commanders, you have come this far!”

Violence shone in Bruzek’s eyes. His words pulled memories from the Oracle’s mind, and they polluted this vision. Illusory steelflakes descended on the scene.

“Your power is the Empire’s, and the Empire’s power is yours. What can stop you?”

“Nothing,” was their resounding answer. Lightning mines erupted all around.

“Tell me, in all you have learned: what is it to win?”

“It is love.”

Conversion cities assembled in the distance.

“And what is it to lose?”

“Growth.”

Suppression towers sprouted from the concrete.

“And what is it to reach?”

“Life.”

An Orb of Darkness loomed over them all.

“And what is it to relent?”

“DEATH.”

Decadin’s thoughts were racing. “So they knew this part. They had gut answers. He made the speech bad on purpose, because that was the Army, but the chant was Bruzek. He gave them a part in the script, and sidestepped the formalities to involve them.”

“The Army belongs to him,” the Oracle added, “he could change anything with an order.”

“But he doesn’t. He’s drawing a line between himself and the institution. He’s building a cult to himself, something separate. He’s planning something, what’s he planning?”

“Yes, you are right,” thought the Oracle, “thank you.”

Decadin’s eyes began to fade, and ears and nose and skin, as though the Orb of Darkness were consuming it all.

“Oracle, what’s he planning?” He asked again, but she had sectioned him off again, cast him back to his songs, buildings and obsessions. He pouted and thought of all those men, the true killers in all the Conquests, petty tyrants with computers and annual reviews, Bruzeks in the making. Decadin dreamed up a bomb that could’ve killed them all where they stood, and rotated it at ludicrous speeds.

———

Yaldev is a sci-fantasy worldbuilding project by Ulysses Maurer, with art by Beeple. By looking at narratives, stylized loredumps, bad poetry and little details, we'll witness the story of a planet filled with magical power, the nation which tried to conquer it, this empire’s dramatic collapse and the new world which emerged in its wake. Along the way we'll meet the characters who live here, and we'll explore questions about nationalism, rationalism, the natural world and the quest to master it. For all stories in chronological order, check out the pinned posts at r/Yaldev!

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #113

(taken february 13th; uploading surveys taken while gone... almost done!)

Which overrated tattoo are you sick of seeing? Before I answer, I want to preface with something very important: anyone can put whatever the fuck they want on their own skin. My opinion, nor anyone else's, matters at all. Just for ME PERSONALLY though, I think sunflowers and dreamcatchers are very overused.

What was the last thing you taught a younger kid? Uhhhh I'm sure it was a niece or nephew (probably Ryder, he is so curious and I love it, he's always asking questions), but I'm not totally positive what exactly it was. I feel like Ryder did in fact ask me what a word meant last, but I've got absolutely zero clue what that word was now.

Do you like watching movies made with CGI or do you prefer hand-drawn ones? Very good CGI impresses me most, I think. Both are perfectly capable of being very appealing, though. I just think it's mega cool when fake animals and such are implemented into mostly live action stuff and it looks like it totally belongs.

Where did your parents buy their car(s)? I have absolutely no idea where Dad got his car, but Mom's current one was actually just given to her by a former dance student when my sister and I were still attending the dance studio. The girl who'd owned it prior hit a deer, and to this day the bumper is fucked up and kept on with zipties, but it runs. It's got real problems and Mom desperately wants a new one, but cars are just insanely fucking expensive. We're lucky enough to have this one; the former owner bought a new car and had the incredible heart to just let Mom have this one for free.

Do you know why your grandparents chose your mother’s name? Nope.

What is your favourite kind of soup? I'm really not a soup person.

Are you satisfied with your social life (or lack thereof)? No. I'm TRYING to become more social and reach out to old friends more.

What TV show do you just assume you wouldn’t like? 13 Reasons Why is one; I've just heard bad things about how they portray the subject matter, and also as a person who has attempted suicide and spent a great deal of her life suicidal, I KNOW I just wouldn't handle it well.

Who always has the power to make you feel intimidated? Big, strong-looking men.

Which one of your senses would you miss the most if you lost it? Either sight or hearing. Pretty sure sight.

What’s the stupidest fight you’ve ever gotten into? Did you make up with that person or did you end up losing them over it? Oh, I'm sure it was RP bullshit as a kid, most likely with Sara because boy did we know how to butt heads about fucking nothing. I don't miss that shit.

What’s your opinion on prostitution? Should it be legal and regulated, or is it something that needs to be gotten rid of completely? I want to be very clear that this is a topic I KNOW I am not educated enough in; on the surface, so long as you're being safe, emotionally upfront, and respectful, it sounds fine. However, there are absolutely dark shadows in this topic, mostly covering abuse of the prostitute because a bad person seeks out their service. Then there's human trafficking that I'm sure is more easily achieved and stuff because of prostitution... So yeah, I don't know.

Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? In my precise neighborhood, there's none, but in my town, it depends on what area you're in. Some places are quite literally painted with it, others aren't AS bad, but you still see it.

Which IM app do you use the most? Discord.

Besides English, what other languages can you speak? None fluently, but I'm still pretty decent at German. Not as good as I was in high school, though.

Besides English, what other languages can you read? German.

Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? No.

If not, would you even want to try one? If it was a reputable restaurant where I could trust they prepare them properly, I'd TRY something, but I wouldn't order it myself.

Which edible flowers have you tasted? Just honeysuckles.

What has been your worst restaurant experience? The time I was still a vegetarian and I went to Burger King cuz they're the only local chain with an affordable veggie burger, and the employee that took the order clearly didn't understand because I shit you the fuck not, I got lettuce and tomato between two buns. That is literally it. My mom went in to correct it and holy shit was the manager pissed, lmao. That experience was fucking hilarious, honestly. It's one of my favorite stories to tell, haha.

Have you ever had a life threatening condition? If so, what was it? I wasn't experiencing life-threatening symptoms, nor had it progressed to a point where my life was even remotely at risk, but when I had an infected cyst, leaving it there could have seriously harmed me, because the infection would spread. The same thing goes for the billion times I've had UTIs. I also have *inactive* MRSA that I apparently contracted after my cyst surgery when the wound tore open; I don't know how the hell to explain this in a way that makes sense, but basically as I am now, I'm totally fine, because it's not an "active" infection, but MRSA is incredibly dangerous if it is actively affecting your body, which to my understanding, mine could "wake up" at any time. I think. Learning this shit made no sense to me lmao.

Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? No.

Would you ever have a UV tattoo? Nah. I don't live a life where you'd like, EVER see it so it'd be pointless and a waste of money.

Do you work better alone or in a group? I work immensely better alone.

Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody, honestly.

Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No.

Write the first song that pops into your head: I have a slowed/reverb version of "Mary on a Cross" by Ghost on right now, so that.

Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? He doesn't have one.

Have you ever had sex with two different people in the same week? No.

Who is the friendliest person you know? I wanna say Girt, or my mom.

Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side by side.

If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. We potentially WOULD have if the fucking idiots who moved in there after us didn't burn the fucking house down WHILE THEY WERE STILL MOVING IN by placing a fucking box on top of THE STOVE that they accidentally flipped on. My parents owned the house so were going to be the landlords, but after this I guess they sold it or something in order to have the house rebuilt, idk.

Animated character that was your gay awakening? HA I immediately thought of Shego from Kim Possible, she was DEFINITELY up there.

What show/YouTube video(s) do you put on in the background when you don’t have anything to watch but you want something on? Usually a let's play.

Do you own any signed books/memorabilia in general? No.

What was your “phase” when you were younger? (i.e., Mythology Nerd, Horse Girl, Space Geek, etc) Absolutely emo, haha.

Have you ever been to jail? No.

Where do you sit in the living room (we all have a preferred spot, and you know it)? The lefthand side of the couch that's against the front wall if Mom's home, but I sit on the right if Girt's here. The one time we sat in the "wrong spots" he was so thrown off literally because he couldn't cuddle me right. 😭

Are you a “quote that relates to the photos” caption-er, an “explanation of where I took the photos” caption-er, or a no caption kinda person when you post pictures online? I pretty much always have SOME sort of caption, and it's honestly most likely to be a relevant song lyric lmao, that emo cliche ain't left me.

Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend who was depressed? Yes.

What would you do if you found out the last person you called was pregnant/got someone pregnant? My mother had a total hysterectomy, I can assure you she's never getting pregnant again. She's way past menopause anyway.

Would you be embarrassed to buy pads/tampons/condoms? Which one more? Tampons or pads wouldn't bother me at all. I've never personally purchased condoms before though and because of just how awkward I really am when it comes to the sex subject, I would probably be uncomfortable, but idk.

If you were in a car accident would the last person you kissed care? Uh yes, I know he'd freak the fuck out.

What color is the computer/laptop you’re on? Did you buy it yourself? Black, and no. My mom did.

Would you be surprised if you saw the last person you texted smoking? Yes. My mom tried smoking very briefly when she was way younger and hated it. She's never touched one as long as I've been alive, and I also know she wouldn't put herself at risk like that with the problems she already deals with. And I can also guarantee she wouldn't want to smell like it at all; like me, she absolutely hates the smell.

Do you think people have any misconceptions about you? I can bet my fucking life on that.

Have you ever purchased Girl Scout cookies? Yeah.

Do you find piercings/tattoos attractive? Hell yes, in most cases.

Do you own a nightgown? No. I haven't worn those since I was a kid.

Have you ever liked someone much older than you? Only celebrities in the way that doesn't really mean anything because I don't know these people personally whatsoever.

Ever dated someone you were best friends with first? Yes.

How did you meet the last male you texted? Well, he took part in making me.

Do you love your computer? Yeah, it does the job. My brain nearly oozed out of my fucking ears the other day though; I somehow got a trojan on it and finally diagnosed it and was busting my ASS trying to get it off, dreading that my laptop was gonna be fucked because this kind basically melts your CPU. I eventually had to do an almost total reset of it; the only thing I was able to keep was my files, but everything else was wiped. Thank GOD that kicked it off.

Are you more optimistic or pessimistic? I consider myself a realist, but out of the two, I'm definitely more pessimistic.

Are you comfortable with your weight? AbsoFUUUUUUUUUCKINGlutely not, it's one of the top things I absolutely hate about myself.

How often do you listen to classic rock? Not as much as I did in high school, but still a decent amount. I'm just more into modern rock and metal these days.

What about country? Almost never, unless there is a specific song from childhood stuck in my head or I'm in either of my sisters' cars. I generally hate country music.

Do you know anyone inside and out? I don't think I do, honestly. Not anymore. Well, maybe Mom, but idk.

Have you learned anything depressing lately? Pretty recently I learned about the story behind Girt's nephew's dad, and it was tragic as all fucking hell.

Is anyone in your family sick? My youngest niece Emerson is quite sick; she had to be taken to the ER a couple nights ago. She's had a fever for a while now, and at the ER it was found that she has fluid in I think her left lung that we're very much hoping the antibiotics she was given take care of. There's also some body part I don't remember the name of that's behind the tonsils or whatever that is inflamed, and we're thinking she's probably going to have to have them taken out. The poor thing was coughing so aggressively before she was taken that she was literally throwing up and screaming.

Someone says, “I don’t judge people.” Do you really believe them? Nope. Everyone does to some extent.

What is a sad song that you like? One of the saddest that I absolutely adore is "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade.

How many bones have you broken? One.

Last person to get on your nerves? This is honestly really mean, but a WoW guildie, lol. We have one person in it who is the incarnation of "OMG sO rANdoM!!!!" and they're just so, so overwhelming and kinda like force you into engaging with them, and it's so uncomfortable sometimes. They're not a bad person at all or anything, just... a lot to handle. And especially as someone who semi-regularly wants to keep to myself on there, I really don't appreciate being dragged into interacting when I don't want to. I eventually got so annoyed that I just closed the game, lol.

Do you actually think there will be a zombie apocalypse? Nah, I doubt it.

Have you ever gone to church just to get a significant other? Uh, absolutely not. Even when I WAS religious, I wouldn't have done that.

Have you ever punched a wall out of complete anger? No. People who punch shit when they're angry really scare me.

Ever been turned down in a really mean way? Not that I remember.

Do you know anyone who can sing screamo music? Realistically it's very likely I do.

How many people live in the same house with you? Just one: my mom.

Do you have any hickeys? Right now I do, but neither is very obvious.

Do you get allergies in the spring? YES, especially in the beginning. My body does NOT like pollen.

Who do you look up to? Markiplier, the Irwins, my mama, Girt, Jane Goodall, loud women in politics that will basically fight to the death to better fellow women's lives, shamelessly and proudly LGBTQ+ individuals and others who fight relentlessly for their rights, etc. In general, people who think beyond themselves and their own needs.

What is your favorite brand of bottled water? Essentia. I've only had it at Sara's, though; that shit is so not cheap and my mom's not regularly buying that stuff. We just use a filter.

Are you a healthy person? No. I'm trying to improve though, especially now with physical therapy going on.

When was the last time you got out of your home? Yesterday when I rode with Mom to feed a friend's cats while she's away.

Do you like PopTarts? I enjoy some, but I don't eat them a lot because they're just such empty calories; I eat them and I'm still hungry, so it's not worth it.

Is marriage in your future? I very, very much want to get married in my future, so I hope so. Girt and I both want to someday, and I'm hopeful that we're going to together, but as I always say these days, I REFUSE to bet my life on that now.

What is your favorite thing about each season? Winter: SNOW!!!!! Spring: so many flowers and just lush foliage; if it wasn't so damn hot, I would absolutely love spring. Summer: the real ONLY thing I like is that outdoor swimming water is warmest this time of year. Autumn: THE. COLORS. OF. THE. LEEEAAAVES!!! The temperature is also most likely to be just right, I love Halloweentime, just the whole vibe!!!

Would you ever consider running for president? HARD fucking pass.

Would you want a pet iguana? Most likely, no. I ADORE iguanas and had a baby one named Kaiju for a short period of time; I ended up finding him a better home though because I could not properly provide for him. His tank was too small, I struggled keeping the humidity up, etc. etc., and I just wanted him with someone who could give him everything he needed. But even if I HAD the means to give an iguana all its necessities, I just kinda feel like they need to stay wild. A reptile educator I very much respect and look up to has a very strong opinion on this and has the experience to know and share that iguanas in captivity are simply never as vibrant and healthy-looking as wild ones are, so it's like, unless you're literally rescuing the animal from definite doom, you're decreasing its quality of life by keeping it as a pet. I really doubt I'll ever adopt another one; my go-to big lizard of choice that I eventually DO want is an Argentine black-and-white tegu, instead!

Do you use corny pick-up lines? No, that's Girt's job, lol.

Do you enjoy windy days? NO. A light breeze if it's not cold, fine, but I HATE wind. It especially aggravates me because I REALLY hate how it makes a bird's nest out of my hair, even with it short. It was INSANE with long hair.

[opalesense]

the last appointment

zhongli & gn!reader

3.4k words • ~25 min. read

summary: as a studious and credible fortune teller in liyue, you discover something about your last client of the week that completely derails your outlook on life.

warnings: liyue arc spoilers, little bit of existential dread, slight mention of family member’s death

notes: might make more parts to this idk?  just kinda wanted to dip my toes into genshin writing for the first time!!

LIFE IN LIYUE HARBOUR seemed to be repetitive and mundane.  For the past few years, you would wake up, open your fortune telling shop, analyze the futures of your clients using your geomancy, possibly take a stroll around Liyue when you needed to run errands, and then call it a day.  You performed the same routine constantly, sometimes travelling beyond the harbor to collect crystals and magical supplies for your shop, but rarely did anything truly change in your routine.  If something was off in the slightest, it was never too exciting to note.

   As anyone would have suspected, you were tired of your state of limbo in life.  Other vision holders seemed to be going on adventures, travelling with companions and exploring the vast mountains and valleys of Teyvat.  Other vision holders seemed to be fighting against evil, helping citizens, and saving the world from imminent dangers.  You could even recall a recent event where the Qixing had evacuated the harbor to defeat a terrifying sea monster.  The Jade Chamber had been sacrificed for the safety of the people of Liyue, and yet here you were, playing with a bunch of rocks for a living.  Despite being able to grasp the glowing Geo vision that held your coat together, you could not grasp why you felt doomed to tend to this shop for the rest of your days.

   You didn’t know where or how to “start” your life.  The small, inherited establishment from your late aunt was located in the small alley of Chihu Rock, practically out of sight from most of the foot traffic in the harbor.  Not many people came to visit, though your name was still decently known.  In fact, most of your appointments were simply previous clients from your aunt, regulars that relied on her readings for years and believed you were the next best thing after she passed.  Especially considering you were the first vision holder in your family, it made your credibility even stronger.

   You still remember how you got your vision.  The morning after your aunt had passed, the elemental gift somehow made its way into your hand as if the timing was meant to be perfect.  You didn’t celebrate such a special and momentous occasion with pride or joy.  Your face stiff with tears, you instead reflected on why you received your vision at that moment in the first place.  With the shop doors closed upstairs, you gripped your vision and did what you felt needed to be done.  With your family’s legacy and tradition on the line, adventuring like other vision wielders was not a priority at the time.

   But after years alone of research, a social life consisting only of interacting with customers, and a constant state of grieving the experiences you could’ve had in your youth, you were now in your late twenties and closing the shop for the day.  Your last appointment was either extremely late or not showing up at all and you were tired of working today, just like every other day. Regret gripped you tightly as you wondered how you managed to get yourself in such a boring, slow burning loop.

   That is until the shop door opened, eliciting a gasp from you at the sudden noise, shattering the previous thought.  You accidentally dropped the basket of cor lapis you were refilling and immediately knelt down to pick up the precious pieces that thankfully hadn’t cracked on the way down.

   “Hello, [Y/N],” the tall figure practically glided through the doorway, “My deepest apologies for being late.”

   He closed the door behind him, “...and for startling you, it seems.”

   You sighed, checking for any scratches on the gems and sighed again with relief based on the good results.  You grinned to hide the fact you had just been in deep thought.  “It’s quite alright, Mr. Zhongli.  It’s kind of you to stop by at the very least, even if you’re late.”

   Mr. Zhongli was one of your aunt’s longtime clients.  Since you were a child, your aunt had always described Mr. Zhongli as a complex yet thoughtful man that had always shown kindness to your family for many years.  When Mr. Zhongli learned of your aunt’s death and began to receive readings from you instead, you quickly realized what your aunt meant by calling him complex.  Mr. Zhongli was truly a tough nut to crack in every single reading, his sessions taking longer than most other cases.  That is why Mr. Zhongli would always offer to take the last spot of the day at the end of every week as to not trouble any of your other clients.

   As you took a few of the best cor lapis from the basket, you could see Mr. Zhongli’s acts of kindness and thoughtfulness unfold in front of you.  He seemed to carry what was now clearly a gift basket at closer inspection.

   “This gift is for you,” Mr. Zhongli took a few steps forward to set the basket on a countertop.  “I brought you your favorites.  Slow cooked bamboo shoot soup, qingxin, glaze lilies, and all the crystals I could find…  needless to say, let this be a token of my appreciation for your patience and hard work from our last few sessions.  I know I am not the easiest to read, but you truly have a talent.”

   You were speechless at the gesture as your eyes sunk into the intricate detail of the handwoven basket and decorated items inside.  No one had ever done something so kind for you in so long.  It was astonishing enough that he remembered your favorite soup that you mentioned only once a few months ago, let alone your favorite flowers and crystals as well.  “Thank you so much, Mr. Zhongli!   I’m at a loss for words – this is so thoughtful of you!”

   “I even brought you that Rex Incognito series you had mentioned, although, I am not sure why you would need to read the series when I am fully capable of educating you on the history of Rex Lapis myself,” he flaunted, taking his seat on the cushioned chair in front of the reading table.

   “Now, Mr. Zhongli...” you picked out some prithiva topaz from another basket, following the usual protocol you had with such a personalized, frequent client like him. The required materials for his readings were imprinted into your memory like carvings in stone. “You know I don’t want to burden you with my curiosity.  And with such an intriguing topic like Rex Lapis... once I start asking questions I’m afraid I will not stop.”

   “I have all the time in the world,” he got comfortable in his seat as you sat yourself across from him, “I truly think it would benefit you to discuss the history of Rex Lapis with a learned scholar such as myself.  We can even have some tea as we discuss.”

   You chuckled at his eagerness.  He seemed more forward than usual. “You are too kind, Mr. Zhongli.  Perhaps I’ll take that offer someday, but at least let me put those books to good use first. Maybe I won’t need to bombard you with questions if I’m already well briefed on the subject.”

   He sighed happily.  “You make a good point. And you will enjoy them, I’m sure.”

   You settled into your seat as you arranged the crystals between the two of you.  “The usual for tonight?”

   “Yes, please.”

   Your hands meticulously placed the last crystal in its spot on the surface.  You closed your eyes and hovered your hands above the rocks, clearing your mind to make way for the usual reading: a reflection on the past, any significant events of the present to focus on, and some insight into the future.  You held this hand gesture for awhile, letting the energy from the rocks lift into the air and envelop your gloved palms.  When you felt there was enough energy to work with, you opened your eyes to reveal the manifestation of his thoughts in front of you, able to take its physical form using the powers from your glowing vision.

   No one had ever taught your this skill, not even your aunt.  If you had to bloat your own ego, one could say you invented this Geo fortune telling process yourself. The process indeed came to you naturally, a true display of pure talent.

   You slowly lifted your hands to allow the visual manifestation to settle on the table among the gems so Mr. Zhongli could watch his reading unfold in front of him as well.

   “Let us analyze the past first,” he spoke, already knowing the routine without you needing to ask him where to start.  You slowly waved your hands as if you were digging a hole in sand on a beach, the manifestation displaying ambiguous patterns that wouldn’t make sense to any commoner’s eyes but could be interpreted easily by yours.

   Two pairs of focused eyes fixated on the picture as you spoke your mind out loud.  “You have recently given up something extremely important to you, it seems.  I see you handing over something…  small, physically, yet unbelievably significant and personal.  I can’t tell what it is exactly, only that it glows like the sun with its energy.  But you have handed this important object over to a very... evil... figure?” you cocked your eyebrow, confused.  “You seem to be brooding over the fact that its aura is dark with malicious intentions.”  You hesitated, “Well, that can’t be right, can it?”

   He sighed.  “Unfortunately, that is indeed what happened recently.  But it had to be done.”

   “Didn’t we talk about a similar situation in a previous reading?  If I remember correctly, I thought I had advised you to not give up whatever that object was.”

   “I am aware of the consequences that will follow.  Especially with your future guidance, I’m sure the events following this one questionable decision will unfold in a better way soon enough.”

   “I will always be here to help you, Mr. Zhongli.  But please be careful in the future with these decisions.  The importance of this object seems to be off the charts.”

   He nodded.  “It is as you say.  Please, have faith in me now. I cannot change what happened in the past, after all.”

   You hovered over this image of the sacrifice.  You couldn’t make out what this object was, no matter how close you tried to inspect it.  It had the likings of a chess piece, but surely this wasn’t simply a chess piece, was it?

   “Let us move on, if that is alright with you,” his low voice cut the silence.

   You wiped the image from your mind and waved your hands again, as if you were slowly putting the sand back into the hole you dug before.  If the last image wasn’t enough bad news, this new one that formed was even more painful to witness.

   “You have been grieving your losses very recently,” you said gently.  “Your mind is currently weighed down by your past.  I see you looking out at the sea in deep thought.  There are flashes of…”

   You stopped as you inspected the graphic images that suddenly appeared beyond your hands.  You gasped at the terrifying horrors.

   “What is it?” the low voice tried to search for understanding of what you were seeing.  Even though the image was clearly laid out in front of him, it was still too ambiguous to tell when he lacked your years of experience.

   “There are flashes of war,” your breath stifled as you watched his thoughts splayed out in images of lifeless bodies and destruction.  “Very graphic details of war and death.  Mr. Zhongli, I believe this image of suffering has been weighing over your mind like an anchor in the sea.”

   He paused to process your comparison.  “That is... a very good way to put it.”

   “Though, I believe that despite the sorrow that emanates in this image, you are in a state of relief and tranquility.  It seems you are grieving, but you are simultaneously at peace,” you hesitated again, “Yet I wonder what these graphic images of war are meant to represent.  Surely we are not in an actual war, are we? Perhaps you are at war with your past, wanting to move on but haunted by your memories?”

  Mr. Zhongli unfortunately knew the images you were seeing were, in fact, real events he had experienced in his life time and the truth was that lately he had been reminiscing on these events.  Mortal life is kind to humans for them to be blissfully unaware and carefree of these harsh realities, he internally commented.

  He still put your analysis into thought, though.

  “I am haunted, indeed.  I have been attempting to come to terms with my troubled past, just as you advised me only a few weeks ago.  I have tried to follow your guidance, and although they resurface what I have been trying to repress, I believe I am coming to peace with what happened.”

  You grinned.  “That is very good to hear, Mr. Zhongli.  I believe you are currently making good progress when it comes to moving on.  Just remember that it is okay to remember your sorrow.  Let your emotions pass through you instead of repressing them or rushing to move on.  It is okay to take your time and let the thoughts bubble inside of you for awhile.”

  He closed his eyes as you continued, letting your advice seep in.  You continued. “Imagine the stillness of the sea.  Many creatures and lost remnants take their place in the depths of the waters, but on the surface we see constantly moving yet serene waves wash over what is hidden below.  Your memories are there to stay, Mr. Zhongli.  But your present self, the surface of the water, can peacefully coexist with whatever is hiding deep within.  Let these thoughts weigh you down momentarily, but rest assured, you will find balance and acceptance in due time.”

  His eyes fluttered open as he reflected over your words.  You always seemed to know what to say.  “Your words have truly resonated with me, [Y/N].  And you are absolutely correct.  I have been fighting these memories to avoid the pain, but it had not dawned on me that sorrow is... what I am meant to feel, not push away.  I suppose your advice has put my mind at a bit more ease, and I suppose I am focusing too much on when I will be able to move on rather than allowing my thoughts to coexist for a moment.”

  “Now you’re getting it,” you grinned with the relief that washed over his face.

  “Shall we move on?” he offered.

  You got to work on the last segment of the reading.  If manifesting the other images didn’t take long enough, reading one’s future always took the longest.  Interpreting an event that hasn’t happened yet always made you a bit nervous with your words.  You never wanted to let a client down with an inaccurate reading.

  On the contrary, this reading, despite taking quite awhile to appear on the surface on the table, was very clear.

  “That is undoubtedly an image of me,” your eyes glazed over the facial features of the person in the manifestation.  “I apologize for the delay, Mr. Zhongli, I must have accidentally let my thoughts seep into yours–“

  “Do not fret, I believe this is accurate,” he interrupted.  “Keep going.”

  Your perplexed expression remained as you continued the reading.  “I am admittedly stumped.  There is nothing left in this image.  I suppose it is simply me standing in what looks like some ruins.  I am holding a staff, or some kind of long object.”  You paused to think out loud.  “Why am I in your reading?  What could this possibly mean?”

  Mr. Zhongli chuckled as you thought out loud.  “Perhaps this is a good time to tell you why you are in my thoughts.”

  “I’d love to hear it, I have never appeared in someone’s reading in my last decade and a half of experience.  This is quite unique.”

  He folded his hands in his lap, “For some reason, I have had this strange vision of training you.  I’m not sure why, since you don’t seem like the fighting type, but there is some voice inside me that is telling me you are destined for something great and i need to take some part in it.  What do you think, now that you see this vision as well?”

  Your eyebrows rose in shock.  “Training me?  I guess this does relate to something I have been pondering as of late.  I do not want to lay out my troubles on you though, my job is to interpret your life, not mine.”

  “Our lives have clearly intertwined in this vision,” he insisted, “Please do not hold back for my sake. I have the time.”

  You thought for a moment.  How could you form the words without seeming too selfish? How could you maintain professionalism by talking about your personal problems?

  “I am not the fighting type, Mr. Zhongli.  Though, lately I have been quite depressed about the fact that I am not doing as much with my vision as other vision holders are.  My life is uninteresting.  The truth is that I am a simple fortune teller that plays with rocks.  I hope you can understand why I am failing to interpret this reading,” you apologized. “It’s because this doesn’t seem characteristic of me at all.  And with all due respect, after giving you readings for years, I would have never guessed you were versed in combat to train me!”

  He chuckled.  “I respectfully disagree.  To tell you the truth, your talents surpass the abilities of many other vision holders.  Not everyone can read thoughts or tell the future.  Now that I mention it, I know of one talented astrologist in Mondstadt, but think about that.  You are one in hundreds of thousands in Teyvat,” he reassured.  “You did not receive your vision for no reason and I truly believe you are destined for something big.  I regret not being able to realize this before.”

  “How are you so sure of this?  I would love to believe you, but I’m afraid I am not destined for much, really.  Again, I am simply a fortune teller.  What could I possibly do for Liyue other than read some rocks?”

  He sighed and connected his palms with yours, interrupting the reading and wiping the manifestation off the table.  The hovering crystals dropped onto the surface, making you gasp at the sudden sound.

  “I am not who you think I am,” his amber eyes finally met yours for the first time this evening, which sent a chill down your spine.  “Promise me you will not fret, for what I am about to show you may shock you.”

  “What do you mean?  What are you doing, Mr. Zhongli?” you slightly panicked as he firmly grasped your hands.

  Suddenly, the room was engulfed in golden light that emitted from the seat across from you.  Scattered, distorted images of a mystical dragon, a devastating war, and seven seats in Celestia flashed across your eyes as you stared at the beams of light.  Death seemed to swallow you, but not take you.  The baskets of crystals around the room shook with the surge of energy.  The world seemed to destroy itself then remake itself over and over again within fleeting moments.  These thousands of years of memories made your body tremble.  It all happened within fleeting moments, and after a few seconds of your senses being overwhelmed, you finally pulled yourself together and connected the dots.

  His expanded knowledge of Liyue’s history.  The sudden gift of your vision immediately after your aunt passed.  Grieving his losses and having flooded thoughts of war and death.  Offering combat training.  Remembering your favorites the same way he would remember Liyue’s customs and traditions.  His glowing amber eyes alone.

  Mr. Zhongli was the God of Contracts and overseer of Liyue.  Rex Lapis, a being that lived for millennia, sat in the seat across from you. He had been posing as a mere mortal for years, taking readings as if he were any normal customer. The realization shook you to your core as you sat there bewildered, grateful, and horrified at the same time.

  He let go of your hands after seeing that the information successfully processed in your mind.  He saw something in you that was yet to be awakened, where the sky was the limit under your own expectations.  This daydream of his was no simple vision – it was a calling.  Internally, whether you agreed to it or not, he vowed that he would not leave your life until your true destiny was fulfilled.

  He would see this vow fulfilled by offering you a contract that would change the course of your life forever.

[dameronology]

can i request from your agnst song lyrics list 1) "i had all of you, most of you, some and now none of you" - the night we met, lord huron? maybe from nat’s perspective bc she lost reader please? 🥺

of course!! i hope u enjoy <3 this came out in a weird format but ?? we move

natasha romanoff + ""i had all of you, most of you, some and now none of you"

Natasha could count the five occasions on her right hand during which she knew she was going to lose you. As each one passed, she could tell that you were slipping away bit by bit; at first, it was just a little. A tiny bit of distance, but something you could bounce back from. Then it became a deeper and deeper divide, until she'd passed the point of no return and lost you completely. The worst part was that she knew it was happening. She was fully aware that you were slipping through her fingers and she had done nothing to stop. There was only one person to blame, and Nat knew who it was.

The first time she knew was when she'd missed an important dinner date - a cliche, really. It had happened to everyone at some point or another but this one? It had been a particularly important one. A big PR night for the Avengers, where she'd promised to be by your side and help put on a united front. You'd set a reminder on her phone, written it on the calendar in her office, and even sent her a final text on the big day. Then her meeting had overran, and she had a conference call, and four hours later, the realisation hit her like a truck. She'd forgotten. She'd taken on too much work and let you down.

"I am so sorry!" Nat burst in the room, fiery hair all over the place. She had quickly come in a rush, and her less than subtle entrance only brought more embarrassment to the warmth on your cheeks. "I was working, and I lost track of time-"

"- you had one job, Natasha," you hissed. Standing up from the dinner table, you awkwardly moved over to her and shoved a glass of champagne in her hands. "You said you had booked the day off weeks ago."

"There isn't a day off when you're an Avenger," she softly reminded you. But, the presence of Bucky, Steve, Tony, Peter and literally every other fucking super-hero in New York told you other-wise.

"Yeah, I know," you murmured. "C'mon, let's just sit down."

"I really am sorry, honey," Nat pushed.

"I know," you repeated. "Just...be on your best behaviour for the rest of the evening."

You'd written it off as a blip; so what if Natasha had made a mistake? Despite all her prior accomplishments, she was a human being. Work was important to her and you totally got that. It was important to you as well, and you had always supported each other.

More than anything, you were just grateful it had been a work related incident than anything. The first few months of your relationship had been plagued with Nat pushing you away and consistently shutting you out - it had taken a long time for her to open up to you, and even longer for her to trust you. You were glad whatever argument had come her mess-up hadn't been her doing the same all over again.

Or so you'd hoped - because the second time she felt you slipping away? It was a little more serious.

"Natasha," you sighed, "you need to tell me these things."

"It's nothing, I promise," she murmured.

"A gunshot wound isn't nothing!" you countered. "The worst part is that I found out about it from Bucky's Snapchat story."

She frowned. "Bucky has Snapchat?"

"Yeah, he meant to to send it to Steve, but accidentally posted it publicly instead," you gave a derivative snort. "But that aside, you can't keep things like that from me. I thought we didn't have secrets. Nat."

"We don't, sweetheart," Nat replied. "I just didn't want to scare you."

"You scared me more by not telling me," you shot back. "Just...please tell me next time? Don't keep me out the loop."

She forced a smile. "I won't."

But she did.

So much so, in fact, that you found yourself almost losing Natasha completely. She would no longer tell you about where she was going on missions, or when she would be back - it was all just a giant question mark. And not that dissimilar from how it had been at the beginning of your relationship. She'd been secretive, then; keeping you out the loop and not opening up when she clearly experienced something traumatic.

You'd always been there for her, but you didn't want to force it either. You were just hyperaware that you were the only person you spoke too, and if she stopped talking to you? That meant she was bottling it all up. That was never healthy.

"Steve said there were deaths," you called after Natasha, helplessly following her through your shared apartment. "Five men down, Nat, and you don't even want to talk about it a little?"

"I'm not good at talking," Nat muttered. She stalked through to the bedroom, throwing her go-bag into the back of the wardrobe. "Don't force me."

You stopped in your tracks. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just...I don't want you to bottle it up, y'know? That's not good for you. I guess I'm just letting you know that the offer is there."

"Thank you," Nat forced a smile. Again. "I appreciate it."

"I also don't want you to shut me out," you continued. "I've been through that with you before and I don't want to do it again. It almost killed both of us."

"Hey, I'm sorry," her face fell, and she softly reached out, pulling you into a hug. "I won't shut you out. I promise."

Natasha managed to break both of her promises; the one about keeping you in the loop, the one about not shutting you out.

It came naturally to her, you see. She was a solitary person; raised by design to be self-sufficient and to not let anyone in. At the Red Room, finding support in others had been a sign of weakness and try as she might, Natasha couldn't shake the habits that were engrained into her brain. She wanted to - for you, she really did - but it was hard.

It didn't take long for things to come to a head. You weren't an idiot; you knew when Natasha was icing you out. It had hurt too much the first time round and there was no guarantee that you'd have it in you to see it through a second time. You figured that space might be good - not a break up, but just some time apart.

"Natasha, we need to talk."

She hated the words as soon as they left your mouth - so did you. There was never a good conversation that started with we need to talk. It was always either a separation or an ultimatum, and you were too tired for the latter. Proposing a break seemed like the best thing for you both.

Nat frowned. "What's up?"

"I won't beat around the bush," you began. "I think we should take some time apart."

You could see Natasha's face fall instantly, but she couldn't deny it that it hadn't come as a shock. Something - a trial separation, a break-up, an argument - had been brewing for a while. She was just good at dancing around it.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you admitted. "We're both tired and it feels like we're slipping back towards how things used to be."

"You're right," she agreed. "I'm sorry. You know I love you, right?"

You smiled. "I know - I figured you could use the time to work out what you want. See if you wanna talk to someone professionally, or if you just want to...y'know."

"Know what?"

"If you want to break-up permanently," you finished the sentence with a wobble in your voice. "Ball's in your court, Nat."

The ball was in her court - and she basically let it deflate.

Because for Natasha, emotions were scary. You'd left the apartment with a promise between you that she would be the one to make the final call.

A month and I'll call you, is she what she had said.

A month and I'll call you, is she what she had promised.

It was a slow month. You didn't hear from Natasha at all; when you went to collect your mail from the apartment, she was out. She barely showed her face at the office these days and her presence on social media was gone. Her name no longer popped up on the viewers list for your Instagram or Snapchat story. There were no more good morning texts.

Then that slow month turned in a slow five weeks. Then six. Then seven. Then two months had passed, and you hadn't heard a single thing.

Not until a cold Monday evening, when you were holed up in your new apartment watching an old episode of Seinfeld. The presence of your friends, paired with old sitcoms, was the only thing getting you through the Natasha-induced drought. A knock on the door only made it worst.

"One second!" you called.

Throwing your blanket aside, you put down your soup and shuffled over to the front door. Out of habit (one that Nat had taught you), you peered through the peephole - your heart practically stopped when you saw a head of red hair and green eyes. It was unmistakably your Natasha.

"Nat," you greeted her with a cold tone as you opened the door. "Fancy you making an appearance."

"I am so sorry," she began. "I just needed time. I needed time to think-"

"- I gave you a month!" you cut her off. "And I would have given you more if...if you had just asked. If you had just spoken to me, or communicated with me."

"I know," she murmured.

"No, Nat," you firmly said. "I don't think you do. I don't think you know at all - about what you're doing or how you're making me feel."

"I..." she trailed off. "I love you."

"You don't fucking act like it," you snorted. "I could deal with at first - all the miscommunications and random disappearances, but I'm done now."

"I just want one more chance - please?"

"No," you snapped. "You've made your bed. Now lie in it."

And she would; she would lie in it alone.

[boimgfrog]

hey @pantoranprincess​ i uh. i wrote it <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139768

full fic under the cut

The two men were seated at a table, enjoying lunch despite the… cozy size of Luke’s office. Conversation flowed easily, albeit mostly one-sided.

               “anyways, that’s when I saw Obi-Wan, my first master-” Luke paused, noticing Din’s helmet tilt slightly at the name, “you do know who Obi-Wan was, right?”

               Din froze, not expecting the Jedi to pick up on his confusion, “the name sounds familiar… Bo-Katan mentioned him once,” he took a sip from his straw, “said he was a sister-seducing- man-whore? Was he some kind of escort?”

               He waited as his words washed over Luke. The jedi blinked twice, a smile flickering past his lips.

               “yes,” Luke nodded, “he was, excellent job,” he spooned more soup into his own bowl, hiding his smile behind its large spoon.

               “and he was your master?” Din asked, tilting his head forward.

               “mhmm,” Luke set the spoon back into the bowl, matching din’s gaze through his lashes, “taught me everything he knew,”

               Din coughed, turning his attention back towards his lunch. he sipped at it, ignoring the blush that crept under his helmet.

The jedi huffed, eyes twinkling. Something told Din that maybe, just maybe, he’d lied about the Obi-wan thing.

                                                          -><-

The back of Luke’s head hit the ground, pulling a wheeze from his body. Above him, Din stood poised, cradling a very fussy green toddler. He extended a hand toward the fallen jedi, but Luke waved him off, leaning up on his elbows.

“’s nothing, no offense but,” he gestured to Grogu, who had calmed down some, “he’s no Vader, I’ll be fine,” this time, he accepted Din’s hand, hardly dwelling on how easily he pulled him up.

“Vader?” Din asked, shifting the baby to his hip, and pocketing the darksaber he’d previously been using.

Luke looked up at the Mandalorian, tilting his head with a smile, “Darth Vader? The emperor’s right-hand man?”

Din’s helmet betrayed to hint of recognition. Unbelievable. No way, there’s no way he was this clueless.

“big cape, scary helmet? Red lightsaber?” Luke tried, wracking his brain.

“oh, you mean like the guy on those old recruitment posters?”

“those- the recruitment posters?”

Din nodded, “I’d see ‘em plastered up in bars and stuff, back before the empire fell,”

Recruitment posters. Din, one of the best bounty hunters Luke had ever met, king of Mandalore himself, had only heard of Darth Vader via recruitment posters. Luke felt his chest flutter. He nodded along with whatever Din said next, mind elsewhere. If he hadn’t heard of Darth Vader… what else had he managed to miss?

                                                         -><-

“Din!” Luke called from down the hallway, footsteps tripping as he ran inside Din’s ship, “Din! My sister’s here,” he said, knocking on the solid metal hull, “She wants to meet you!” his voice made it sound like an important event, though Din could hardly see why exchanging niceties with the sister of a backwater jedi warranted such flare.

“mm,” Din pulled back the door, peering down at Luke who was bouncing on his toes, “why?”

Luke ignored him, grabbing Din by his gloved hand, and dragging him towards his office, “this could be a big opportunity for you,” he rattled on, eyes shining beneath his mess of dust-streaked hair, “it’s good for you to make connections like this, given your newly-found title-”

“connections?” Din interrupted, “what do you mean?”

Luke spared a confused glance back at the Mandalorian, still steadily walking him towards his sister, “my sister? Leia Organa?”

Din offered up no response, but Luke was enamored by it nonetheless. He could understand not knowing much about galactic history, after all, he was under the impression that Din lead a particularly... sheltered childhood. But things that were happening now? The new republic?

“she was the princess of Alderaan? She helps lead the New Republic?”

“Alderaan...” Din paused, “that’s the one that blew up, right?”

“yes,” Luke dropped Din’s hand, unhooking the tarp that shielded his office from view, “yes, it’s the one that blew up,”

“mm,” Din hummed thoughtfully, “is she a jedi too?”

“sort of, I’ve been helping her train,” Luke said, checking his hair in the gleam of Din’s helmet.

“must’ve been why they blew up Alderaan then,” Din held still, “they were trying to kill her before she got too powerful,”

Luke’s hands stilled. He stared up into the Mandalorian’s visor, “huh,” he said, unable to stop his lips from twitching, “maybe so,” Luke turned around, brushing the tarp aside for Din to enter, hiding his smile behind the fabric.

                                                          -><-

It was almost cute, how little Din seemed to know about the galaxy he lived in. it didn’t really matter, of course. Most of it was just history lessons, nothing that would seriously impede him on a mission or in battle. And he wasn’t stupid by any means. He could speak more languages than Luke could count on his hands, flesh and robotic, and had flight skills that could rival even the most trained X-wing pilot. Still, it was hard not to feel fond when the Mandalorian only just now realized that Luke and Leia were twins.

“how was I supposed to know!”

“Din, starlight, our father would’ve been found out the second one of us was born, how exactly did you think he managed to swerve the jedi code to have another baby?”

“listen-” Din huffed, biting back his argument when he saw how ecstatic Luke was over this whole ordeal. Luke only nodded along expectantly, crossing one leg over the other. He was nothing if not encouraging.

“to be fair,” Din started, scowling at Luke’s twinkling smile, “she’s a princess, and you grew up on Tatooine,” he huffed, “and you never mentioned your dad was a jedi,” he added quickly, hoping Luke would miss it in his euphoria. No such luck.

“Din,” Luke stood up, reaching to cradle the Mandalorian’s helmet in his hands, “Anakin Skywalker? Did you think that was a coincidence?”

“it’s a big galaxy, there’s like half a billion ‘Djarin’s out there,” Din answered, but the bite had left his voice. It was hard to be frustrated when Luke was so close, all soft smiles and saying “Din” like it was a prayer.

Din leaned into the jedi’s touch. He’d blame it on the weight of his helmet later, and Luke would play along, teasingly offering to hold the helmet if it ever got too heavy. It was only ever teasing though. Luke never asked for more than Din was willing to give.

                                                         -><-

 They were pressed together, Din’s arm wrapped lazily around Luke’s waist, the jedi’s head leaning against his cold, armored shoulder. The beaches on Luke’s planet were nothing special, but the sunsets, oh the sunsets were spectacular. Grogu had been poking at Luke’s brain all day, playing memories of beach days on coruscant and building sandcastles with the crechemasters, until Luke finally caved and suited the baby up for a day in the water, inviting Din along.

Grogu had the time of his life, taking turns force-throwing sand at his dad and splashing his master until they joined in the fun. After a full day of entertaining the little gremlin, though, the two men had decided to impose Nap Time on the kiddo, sprawling out together on one of the many beach towels Luke had brought. (“you didn’t grow up on Tatooine, Din. Trust me, sand gets everywhere”)

The baby was fast asleep against Din’s armor, wrapped up so his head didn’t get bruised by the beskar.

“this was nice, huh?” Luke asked, shifting to look up at the Mandalorian. His eyes brushed over the thin stripe of exposed facial hair before he pulled his gaze away, embarrassed. Even the smallest of glimpses got his heart racing. Ridiculous, honestly.

“mhmm,” Din absentmindedly rubbed circles on Grogu’s back with his thumb, “could’ve done without all the sand in my armor, though,”

Luke laughed, “ugh I know,” he shifted again, pulling his arms from the poncho he was wearing, “I always get so much sand and dust in my hand, it’s the worst,”

Din tilted his helmet, “in your hand?”

“yeah,” Luke fiddled with his glove, pulling it off before tugging on one of his fingers, revealing the intricate system of wires, “you didn’t know?”

Din knew he was staring, and he knew that wasn’t polite but he just- “you’re… part droid?”

Luke laughed at that, a full, hearty laugh, one that had him gasping for air and rolling on his back. Din reached for his hand, holding it up so that it didn’t hit the sand as Luke fell back.

“yes,” Luke said, catching his breath, “I suppose that’s one way to put it,” he flicked his finger again, closing the wiring hatch. Din hadn’t removed his hand, so Luke twisted their fingers together, “you really didn’t know?”

“how was I supposed to?”

“the lifting things six times my weight didn’t tip you off?”

Din sputtered, “you’re a jedi??? You lift things six times your weight all the time???”

That got Luke laughing again, eyes twinkling in the setting sun. He was teasing Din, yes, but he was also so, so deeply fond of him. This, Luke asking questions, Din answering truthfully even though it made him look silly, this was everything to Luke. Luke trusted the Mandalorian, of course he did, and this made Luke feel like Din trusted him as well. just the thought alone was enough to make the Jedi smile wider, letting his head fall against the Mandalorian’s shoulder once more.

                                                           -><-

Luke paced around Din’s ship. It was bigger than his last one, and somehow even harder to navigate.

“Din, where’s your holoprojector?” Luke had promised to tell Leia when they were getting close, and they’d be closing in on Coruscant within the hour.

“don’t have one,” came the response from the dashboard, stopping Luke in his tracks.

“don’t- do you at least have a data pad?” no holoprojector? Maybe Din was poorer than Luke thought.

“yeah,” Din shuffled around for a moment, before handing Luke a beat-up data pad that was at least a century old.

“Din this thing is ancient,” he said, frowning at the actual layer of crust on the screen, “does it even have holonet?”

“nope,”

“wh-“ Luke was dumbfounded, “how do you get your news? What if something big happens??”

“if I need to know it, someone will tell me,” Din said as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, but the thought left Luke reeling.

“Din, starlight, you didn’t know who Darth Vader was,”

“I did so-”

“yeah, from recruitment posters-”

“it still counts-”

“no it doesn’t-”

They fought like that for a moment, back and forth, until it dawned on Luke.

“holy stars,” he said, cutting Din’s rant short, “Din, is this why you didn’t know about Obi-Wan? And Anakin being my father? And Leia and the new republic?” Luke sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, scooping up Grogu and setting him in his lap.

Din grumbled, turning his attention back to hyperspace, “it wasn’t important,”

“starlight it was Darth Vader-”

The two started arguing again, bickering in that old married couple kind of way. Luke couldn’t help but smile at the situation. All this time, all these silly little accidents and conversations, all because the Mandalorian hadn’t bothered to install a holoprojector in his ship. It was amazing, really.

“I don’t see what the big deal is, you don’t know anything about Mandalorian culture,”

“Din no one knows anything about Mandalorian culture,”

Din slumped in his seat, hands gripping loosely at the steering controls. Luke leaned forward, bumping the Mandalorian’s with his head until Din faced him, pressing their foreheads together softly.

“hey,” Luke said in hushed tones, “for the record, I thought it was kinda hot,”

Din let out a breathy laugh, pulling back slightly to look in the jedi’s eyes.

“that says more about you than it does me, Skywalker,”

Luke matched his laugh, Din joining in before resting his forehead against Luke’s again. They were gonna get an earful from Leia when they landed without a party to welcome them, but for now they would simply rest, all shiny armor and gentle curls, bathed in the glow of hyperspace.

[accioecho]

Lee Da Hee for GQ Korea

"Everything becomes memories in the end. You should always strive to have a positive energy."

Feel free to share this translated interview! Though I would appreciate if you could credit me by linking back to this blog or tagging me on Twitter ^_^

GQ: But... uh, why do you look so happy? You’re looking at me with such a happy expression that I don’t know what to do right now.

LDH: Hahaha. No but if I kept listening with a blank expression, I would come off as cold looking. And you would go: “Are you in a bad mood?” So I try to smile more. Otherwise I would come off as cold looking.

GQ: That’s quite a big difference. I got startled when you pulled a straight face.

LDH: Right, it looks like I’m angry. But I’m not, so this is why I try to smile more. If I don’t smile like this, people tend to think I’m cranky. Of course when I get angry, I have a temper, but I’m not usually like that.

LDH: And it goes both ways, it’s easier for me to open up to someone if that person is smiling instead of sporting an expressionless face.

GQ: You were laughing/smiling so brightly that I was kind of hypnotized.

LDH: Hahaha

GQ: When you appeared in the drama “Beauty Inside”, you weren’t the typical villain wearing a red lipstick but were the kind of villain to wear a new, nude shade.

LDH: Ohh, that’s a very nice way to put it.

GQ: Really?

LDH: A nude tone villain. This is the first time I’m hearing this expression, I like it. Yes, up until then, secondary female characters usually tried to win someone’s heart or because they lacked attention and love, they tended to bother the female lead. But “Beauty Inside” was different. It was a different kind of role. I played a villain but my character wasn’t hateful. She had her own convictions and that’s why she was so interesting.    

GQ: Kang Sara was that kind of character, played by Lee Da Hee.

LDH: This is why I didn’t want to play the typical secondary character, the typical second female lead. Yes she was given a fancy background but I also wanted to try something new, something different. Not something that could be shown through strong makeup, I wanted to add a layer of depth to her style.

GQ: I think we could feel the difference hence why it was so interesting. It was obvious that you studied this role a lot and this perfected style has stuck to you, the actress.

LDH: Well, first of all, I find it fun to radically search for something new. In a way that doesn’t stand out too much, while still being faithful to the character, I try to bring out the best of what I can do. Back when I was younger, I had no clue about all that so I just did what I was told to do. As I matured, I discovered what were my weaknesses, what to cover/hide etc. For example, you might think that I’m skinny, and that all my clothes fit me well. But I have a big bone structure so clothes don’t fit all that easily. But because I know this about me, I’m able to adapt,  know how to find the right clothes to try to keep looking pretty. Thanks to the GQ photoshoot, I got to try out this colorful mascara for the first time. And it’s so much fun. As I experience new things one by one, I’m able to see what’s right for me and what’s not.

GQ: It might be insensitive/rude to say this to an actress who has a career spanning 20 years, but I feel like the name Lee Da Hee has become clearer to me since “Beauty Inside”.

LDH: No it’s not insensitive. I’m really thankful that you remember me from that role. No matter how recent the drama is, the point is that you remember me because I left you a good impression. I really appreciate it. To be honest, a lot of people remember me from my role in Beauty Inside. People actually think I didn’t play in many projects before that.

GQ: But you did consistently star in various projects.

LDH: Yes, but I guess they weren’t memorable roles. I don’t think I played characters that stayed in people’s minds. Beyond the character and the role in itself. A drama can be loved by a lot of people, but beyond that, when I watch a show as a viewer, there are some actors that leave a deep impression in the way they play their characters. I wonder if I lacked that kind of aspect. I kept thinking to myself that maybe there was something missing in my acting that didn’t leave a memorable impression.

GQ: You left quite a strong impression after playing roles like Kang Sara in Beauty Inside and Cha Hyeon in Search: WWW. But more recently in LUCA: the beginning, I feel like you shed that strong image. If you found a type of role that fit you, you could have just kept on playing the same kind of characters, but it looks like you’re not afraid to radically change your image.

LDH: You’re right, I wanted to do something different. I wanted to show a different side, something that differed from the bright roles I usually played. After Beauty Inside and Search: www, I was afraid of being type casted. I didn’t want people to think I always played the same kind of roles. But I think I was was too confident when I chose to play in LUCA. I thought I could do anything.

GQ: You thought you could do anything but it didn’t turn out this way?

LDH: Even my mom thought the same thing. That it wasn’t a really good fit. In a few words, she thought my acting felt a bit forced. Hahaha. That it didn’t really flow well. The main takeaway is that I tried something different. If it turns out to be a good fit, then it’s good and if it doesn’t, it means I can just find something that does.    

GQ: Your mother sounds like the type of person who doesn’t mince her words.

LDH: My mom is very level headed. Just by looking at my back, she can tell if I was focused or thinking about something else. I spent a lot of time with my mom, even more so than with friends, and I also cried a lot in front of her. If I ask her “Mom, what’s wrong with me”, she’ll tell me not to think these kind of thoughts, that whatever I’m thinking is not true. We had a lot of moments like that.

GQ: You looked so cheerful today that I didn’t think you could also have rough times.

LDH: Why wouldn’t I? I went through times of depression when I would think, “Am I charismatic enough?”, “Do I lack something as an actress?”. There were times when my self-esteem was very low.

Since I’m tall, I used to have Directors who always said “you don’t match, you don’t match” (with fellow actors). Since I couldn’t do anything about my height, I thought that I could at least work on my body, make myself smaller. So I worked really hard on my diet. I used to eat rice cake soup that my mom used to make using beef broth, once every day. My mom followed along and did the diets with me. Every time. You can guess what kind of mom she is, right? I used to say: “Mom, should we at least drink soju since we only had one meal today?” And we’d share a bottle.

GQ: Hahaha, I see that you don’t hide your positive energy.

LDH: Everything becomes memories in the end. You should always strive to have a positive energy. And try not to think negatively. This way, you can find more motivation when an opportunity comes along, and this is also how more opportunities come up. I know that if I don’t love myself, I’ll end up being depressed and have a low self-esteem. So starting with myself, I also try to be nice to everyone, to compliment them. Let’s not be hurtful, and let’s try not to say mean things. I try to tell myself I’m a good person, and I project that to others as well. Let’s be nice to each other. Let’s be someone that gives off a good energy.

GQ: Why did you hurt your knee?

LDH: Ah, this? (Points to her left knee). I rode one of those electric scooters and fell as I tried to avoid an electric pole.

GQ: It must have hurt a lot if you fell while riding it.

LDH: I’m okay now. It was a bit concerning at first, but I’m just glad I didn’t hurt my face. It’s too bad I fell while riding it for the first time, but I wanted to try it so I learned my lesson now. I don’t even look at the scooters now. I know they’re too dangerous for me.

GQ: You made a very decisive conclusion based on your experience.

LDH: Yes, I should never try to ride a scooter again.

GQ: I also see a scar on your neck. Do you fall often?

LDH: Hahaha. No, I was washing a necklace. It’s a necklace made with my grandmother’s ring but the edge is a bit sharp. I got scratched while washing it a bit hastily.

GQ: Did you grow up under your grandmother’s care?

LDH: No I didn’t... actually both of my grandparents died in a car accident. They were so healthy so I thought they would live for a long time, but they suddenly passed away. When I didn’t work for a while, they used to say “When are you going to make money”, or “how long are you planning to live like that, without earning any money for your mom and dad”. It hurt me sometimes. But whenever I appeared on tv, they were the first ones to watch, and they always asked me when I would be on TV, on which channel... and when the time came, they always made sure to turn the tv on and watch my shows, and whenever we met, they told me they were proud of me, holding my hands and hugging me. I always think about these times. I miss them. Very much.

GQ: This is very moving. I believe these emotions and feelings make who you are.

LDH: I might sound like a crazy person, hahahah, but I have a picture of my grandma and grandpa next to my bed, and I always speak to them: “Grandma, I’m back”. If I’m upset about something, I say “Grandma, this thing just happened and this is so hard. I miss you.” - that’s how I cope and move on. This is how I try my best everyday. It makes me focus on what’s important. My family, tomorrow (the future) and all the things I love.

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[undertheknightwing]

Posted by popular demand: all my dad!Dick Grayson headcanons! 

I’m doing the canonverse ones first. My au ones will be in a separate post so this one doesn’t get too long! Enjoy random stuff I’ve thought of!

Important note: when I say ‘canonverse’ I mean I could see it happening in the show’s universe more than an au, I don’t mean everything is going to fit perfectly with the canon storyline we got since there’s not much I can headcanon with the real storyline anyway. Nothing is going on but useless drama and shitty treatment of the main characters. So keep that in mind,,

Dick had a hard time admitting to himself that he cared for Gar and Rach as if they were his kids because of the whole ‘i don’t do family, i work alone’ thing. Tbh the thought of loving someone again, let alone two people, with his luck of family death and misfortune was scary to him and that’s why after Asylum, he left the two in Angela’s care. He knew he was getting too attached to them (that became clear to him when he went dad rage mode on the guards). Then the Trigon thing started and when he realized he led Rachel and Gar into a trap without knowing, he said ‘fuck it they are my kids and they’re in some serious trouble, I’m going to get them out of that trouble even if it kills me’ and that’s why he ran head on into that force field with his only thought being: ‘my kids are in trouble and I will protect them. Nothing can stop me, not even a demonic force field.’

He treats the kids as equally as he can in normal life situations. Like if Rach got to choose dinner the night before, now It’s Gar’s turn to choose. But when it comes to how to comfort them, that’s when he has to change it up because both kids feel comforted in different ways. Both get nightmares and he had to learn how to handle the situation differently for the two. If Rach has a nightmare, he’ll know cause she wakes him up and they’ll talk about it together until she’s calm enough to go back to bed. Now, if Gar has a nightmare, he’ll hear it cause Gar’s usually screaming, which turns into panicking after Dick wakes him up and then him holding onto Dick while crying. Not much talking on Gar’s end, it’s Dick who’ll say a few words. Rachel needs words to feel comforted because her mother hugged and kissed her growing up but they never really talked, so she felt like she never knew her mother while Gar needs physical affection because he grew up without it and got his thoughts and emotions manipulated by words. And throughout the next day, he’ll check on the Gar or Rachel to make sure they’re doing alright.

When Dick went to Doom Manor to get Rachel, that man did not think he’d be leaving Doom Manor with another kid but surprise! he does. Why though? the show never explains why Dick just decided to take a random kid with them. Well in my headcanon it’s because Rachel refused to leave Gar with the Doom Patrol and to help Dick realize that Gar was being treated horribly here, she used her abilities to show him what Gar’s been going through. Dick saw the things Rachel saw like Chief shooting him just because he stood up for himself and the things she didn’t see, like all the times Chief treated Gar like he was worthless trash and the Patrol’s neglect by keeping him down in a basement with nothing to keep him entertained or company. Dick wasn’t going to let a child be treated like that. Since Chief was knocked out, he just talked to the other three and by talk, I mean rip into like an angry momma bear and tell them he’s taking Gar with him. Cliff wasn’t a fan of how Dick came in and acted like he’s entitled to whatever he wants. That ended with Dick and Cliff screaming over each other until Rita allowed Dick to take Gar with them, though Dick wasn’t looking for permission from them, just an agreement from Gar himself. He got that rather quickly. 

He’s never raised his voice at either of the kids in anger. Not even when Gar almost got himself killed by following Jason, he made sure Gar knew he was disappointed and upset with him by calmly explaining; not yelling. No shock to anyone there that Dick has some issues with his anger and he’s afraid one day he’ll take it out the wrong way on the kids and say something he doesn’t mean just because he’s angry/stressed, ultimately harming his relationship with them. I think the only time he’d actually yell at one of them is in serious situations, like if one of them froze up during a mission, making them an easier target, he’d yell their name or something to try to get their attention and snap out of it.

Kind of on the same note, how he manages worry is very different. He will be over the top about it. He’s very dramatic. Rachel got sick and better believe he learned how to make homemade chicken noodle soup because Alfred would do the same with him. Besides that, he’ll hover around her just in case she needs him, which Rach might take advantage of just a little because what kid doesn’t? She’ll have Dick carry her to bed and tuck her in. Gar slipped during a race with Jason up the net wall in the training room and broke his arm since ya know, he fell onto that hard ass mat and since him nor Rachel can go to the hospital because they’re metahumans, Dick had to fix Gar’s arm, which he wasn’t thrilled about since he was afraid he’d make it worse, but Alfred (over the phone) walked him through it and Gar turned out fine, no further injuries. The only thing Gar got was an overprotective bird dad constantly wanting to be around him and Gar was 100% cool with that. They got some well deserved father-son time. I’m also going with Dick feels awful about Gar’s injury because he wasn’t around when it happened so he couldn’t try to catch him and hearing ‘Gar fell from the net wall and he’s not moving’ coming from a panicking Rachel threw him into a completely frantic state of mind. It’s all worry for Dick but Gar helps him feel better with his cheesy jokes and puns.

 I have a feeling after a few months around him, Gar and Rach start adopting Dick’s reactions to certain things and his mannerisms. Dick feels conflicted about the whole thing. There’s a lot about him he’d rather them not replicate. But Rachel doing his pondering face where he puts his hand over his mouth and Gar folding his arms and leaning against whatever he can when people talk to him, like Dick does quite often, is fine with him. If this teaches him anything, it’s to fix his own act and be a good example. 

Dick doesn’t favor either kid, they’re both his favorite but there’s certain things they do that would be considered his favorite things about said kid. Like the way Rachel hums or softly sings her favorite songs while painting/drawing and Gar’s loud bursts of genuine laughter that turn into snorts the longer he laughs. The surprise and love he felt when Rachel gave him a sketch she did of him, he put it on the fridge and probably went to cry in his bedroom so no one saw him. Dick’s not known for his laughter, and most people haven’t even seen him smile, yet Gar seems to get him to do both more than he’s ever in years. The first time Dick has laughed so hard that he started crying was to some sarcastic joke Gar made about a commercial when the living room had been silent for awhile. The day Gar’s favorite show is new is also one of Dick’s favorite days because when the episode is over Gar rushes to him all happy and tells him about it like: “dude, dude you won’t believe it I was so shocked!”. Honestly seeing Gar and Rachel truly happy is his favorite thing in the whole universe.

I feel like there’s been a few times where Dick has been sad that Gar and Rach aren’t really his kids. He wishes he could have given them a happy childhood. Rachel shouldn’t have had to be terrified of her abilities and lied to cause of them and Gar shouldn’t have had to raise himself and be shut away like he was some kind of monster. 

At some point before they all reached the tower or the day after, Dick had to take the kids shopping because where did their outfits come from (and room décor?). This is the first time they’ve all been in a normal situation together and Dick learned a few things. Rachel had no problem being around crowds of people due to her more normal upbringing while Gar stared wide eyed at everyone like he had no idea what to do. Dick assumed since Gar’s been isolated from the world around him for so long mixed with his enhanced senses, he got overwhelmed by all the noises and sights. So Dick told him to focus on him and his voice until his senses get used to the many things happening around him. And that Gar could hold Dick’s hand if he wanted, which he did. He also learned that every piece of clothing Rachel wanted was either black or dark blue, there is no in-between, making Dick jokingly wonder if Rachel is secretly related to Bruce. Then with Gar, all his clothing is bright and busy,, matching his personality. I’m also going with this conversation happened at some point: “Hey, Dick, why don’t you get yourself something while we’re here?” “I don’t have enough money for me, just you two.” “You don’t take whatever you want? I do.” “Umm.. no? That’d be steali-- YOU WHAT.”

On the note of clothes, both of the kids absolutely wear Dick’s clothes. If he can’t find one of his shirts or hoodies, he’s pretty sure one of the kids took it and it’ll be obvious it’s his even if it’s plain cause his clothes are huge on them. He never asked them why they steal his clothes but goes with it comforts them in some way.

One night when Rachel couldn’t sleep, she wandered out to the living room where Dick was still awake and watching tv. She tells him she couldn’t fall asleep so he gives her permission to stay up with him. Dick’s tv show quickly turned into a disney movie after that decision was made and Dick’s not the kind of person who has an easy time sitting through all the marshmallowy stories and singing of those movies but they make Rachel happy so he’ll sit through one for her. He’d rather Rachel watch a kid’s movie than his true crime shows anyway. Rach falls asleep cuddling Dick before the movie ends and instead of taking her back to her room, he lets her stay asleep there and goes to sleep himself because she’s comfy and he’s not going to disturb her. 

Gar expends so much energy during the day that when he goes to his room to chill before bed, he usually falls asleep with everything on in his room and without being covered up because he just passes out. Knowing that fact, Dick finishes the rest for him. Go in Gar’s room, take the ps4 controller out of his hand (cause he normally streams his shows on his ps4), turn everything off besides the green night light, cover Gar up and just because, place one of Gar’s tiger plushies with him, which leads to Gar the next day being like: “really dude? The tiger again. You’re not funny.” and Dick answering: “I’ll stop when you fall asleep correctly.”

Dick now knows how to braid hair multiple ways thanks to Rachel. When the original Titans returned, Dawn said how beautiful Rachel’s hair was, asking if she did it herself and when Rachel said “No, I wish I could. Dick did it for me, he’s great!” Dawn just stood there, not knowing how to respond because the Dick Grayson she remembered would chuckle and act like she didn’t even speak when she’d ask him to do her hair in the past. Gar’s s2 hair was done by Dick as well. The kids said “our hair is boring, can you fix it” and Dick’s inner Wayne surfaced.  

At some point the kids are going to call Dick their dad and he’ll cry, no doubt about that. By the nature of the show, I’d imagine it’d happen during or after some serious thing. For Rachel, it’d be during the s2 premiere. After Trigon is defeated and they’re all settling into Titans Tower, Dick goes to check on Rachel. The day was pretty rough for her. At first Rachel tries to act cool, like nothing is bothering her, but Dick can see through that and she knows. Eventually they get into a deep conversation about Rachel’s destiny, her father, and her feelings about it all. At some point Dick says something on the line of “I'm sorry you never had a real father” after Rachel compares her upbringing to Dick’s. Rachel smiles and tells him she has a real father, it’s him. Sure he’s a little late to the party, but he showed up when she needed him the most and stayed. This will be the first time Rachel will see Dick cry. For Gar, it’ll be after he gets over some sickness his powers gave him since they’re connected to his system and didn’t get finished by the Chief to be properly balanced, they can get out of line. He gets weak and loses his bright green hair/eyes, turning them a dull forest green. It’s not deadly, it’s just his version of the flu. When he’s finally over it and turns back to his normal self, Dick is all overly worried parent to him and Gar, being Gar, has to joke with him first: “jeez man, you are such a parent! All that worrying and pacing you were doing yikes! I think my legs would have fallen off haha!” before going into the soft stuff: “but, it shows that you’re a good one. better than my folks.. thanks, dad-- for, like, everything you did these few days.” then cue Dick pulling Gar into a hug and crying like ‘my purest angel son too precious for this world’.

Early on, Dick kind of sucked at being affectionate through words because Bruce was never with him, so he really didn’t know how to. Instead, he’d buy the kids things they’ve always wanted or things that reminded him of them, like a wooden pencil case carved in the shape of a raven’s feather for Rach and a tropical jurassic park themed backpack for Gar. The ‘hey I saw this and it reminded me of you so I bought it’ gifts are the kids’ favorites.

Ya know that cauliflower pizza Dick makes in s2? Yeah better believe I have a headcanon for why he makes that type of pizza specifically. Dick was having a hard time forgiving himself for killing Gar even if it was Trigon controlling him and this was when he didn’t know how to talk about his feelings, so instead of trying to have a conversation with Gar about it, he decided to do something else to say ‘I’m sorry’. He’s pretty good at cooking (thanks Alfred!) and knows Gar’s favorite food is pizza and that he’s vegan, there’s got to be something he can do with that and as we know, there is. A knock on his bedroom door made Gar remove himself from a video game and see what’s up. On the floor sat a pizza box with a note typed on that read: “I know this is stupid and I need to work on my communication skills, but I’m so sorry for what happened. I hope someday you can forgive me.” now my reasoning for why Gar jokes about said pizza with Rachel is because he and Dick don’t really have a lot that’s just theirs. Dick and Rachel have a lot they share together and Gar kind of wants something he can share with his new dad. So joking about it is his way of covering up his real feelings and no offence to his sister, but he knows how she gets when she feels left out of something so it’s best if he keeps this one thing between him and Dick.

On the weekends aka no training days, Dick normally takes Rach and Gar out so they can do normal kid things. He refuses to be like Bruce and keep the kids shut in the tower all day to ‘keep them safe’ like he did with Dick in the Manor. They need fresh air, sunshine, and fun. Plus he’s with them so if trouble shows up whether by one of their powers or something else, he’ll take care of it. Day activities will be: going to places like the park or the mall, get lunch somewhere, go to the store cause grocery shopping day is Saturday, make dinner at home, then finish the day with a movie. If the daytime is busy with over-do chores and a long time at the store, then night activities will be: going to dinner, either going on a relaxing drive while the kids play their favorite songs over the radio or going on a walk. Both include slushies and snacks for Gar and Rach and coffee for Dick. The last thing of the day is still a movie but more than likely the kids will be asleep before it’s even halfway done and Dick has to carry them to bed. But that’s okay with him, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

There used to be a lot more for the canonverse but I added them into my Rewrite au cause they were already leaning towards au territory,, you’ll see them in my next post

I’ll probably turn some of these into a short fic at some point, but if you see one you’d like to write about, go for it! I’d love to read it!

tagging @not-so-mundane-after-all-97​ real quick cause I know she wants to see this post,,

[fxcking-anon]

hi! request, spencer xfem!reader? reader works at the bau but spencer isn’t there (mutual crush or beginning of relationship) so she swings by his apartment to see he has a stomach flue so she helps and takes care of him? fluff?

Chicken Soup

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: None :)

Word Count: 1,925

A/N: I’m so so very sorry for how long this took. I ruptured my appendix right after I got this request then started classes again and all of a sudden it was October! But it’s done now and we are on the road to being on top of our shit again! Woo! (I may or may not have posted this during math class too oops)

----------

Spencer had given you a key to his apartment a few months ago. After Penelope was shot, you really struggled being alone in your apartment. So, you found yourself knocking on Spencer’s door after a long case. More often than not, you stayed the night. Over time, you’d brought a few things to keep there for when you did sleep over. While Spencer was no Derek Morgan, protector-of-all, kicking-doors-in-and-taking-names, he knew how to distract you from the darkness you both saw on a daily basis. And on the worst nights, he held you after your nightmares.

You had tried to return the key once you could finally be alone again. Spencer refused, insisting you were welcome to come and go as you pleased. So you did, often bearing gifts as you walked through the door. Sometimes coffee, a home cooked meal, or maybe a movie. 

The two of you had always been close. You had a habit of befriending the misfits and bringing them out of their shells. It also helped that people seemed to find you easy to talk to. You can’t name how many times an acquaintance has spilled their soul to you just because you “seem really approachable”. 

And yet, after months of spending most of your days off together and you having a key to his apartment, it took nearly the entire BAU team, excluding Hotch, holding an intervention of sorts to force you two to address the fact that you clearly liked each other and what you were currently doing, was dating.

That led to an awkward evening back at his apartment, trying to talk things through. You knew Spencer didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with relationships and honestly, you didn’t have a lot of experience with healthy ones. After an excruciating half hour of awkward silence and “well, what do you think?” back and forth, Spencer just took your face in his hands and kissed you. 

You’d been officially together since then. Over the past few weeks, the two of you had established a little routine at work. He usually beat you there on nights you didn’t stay with him. He’d grab you both coffee and leave yours at your desk with a little drawing on a sticky note. The little creatures he drew were odd looking and sometimes a bit scary, but you still found yourself storing the sticky notes away in one of the drawers in your desk. 

Today, you were running late after an accident on the freeway put you much further behind schedule than you would’ve liked. As you stepped out of the elevator on the sixth floor, you scanned the room for his mop of curly hair, coming up empty.

“Spence isn’t with you?” JJ asked, looking concerned as she hoisted the case files she was carrying higher into her arms. 

“No, I stayed home last night because I had to finish some laundry I was putting off. Is he not here?” you tried to ignore the surge of panic that began to flow through you. While it was highly unlikely anything had happened to him, he’d been held captive before. In your line of work, it wasn’t completely off the table. You and JJ locked eyes, slight worry laced in both of your eyes. 

“Hotch hasn’t heard from him, I just figured you had,” she said. 

“No, I’ll call him now.”

You beelined for the empty conference room before calling your boyfriend. “Y/N?” Spencer croaked, picking up on the fourth ring. 

You quickly realized he was sick. After hanging up and reassuring Spencer you’d be there as fast as you could, ignoring his protests that you need to be at work, you found yourself in Hotch’s office.

“Look, we don’t have a case and if we get one, I can be back here, ready to go in twenty minutes flat. It’s just, he doesn’t take care of himself as it is and he’s likely downplaying how sick he really is-” you started off, rambling off excuses.

“Y/L/N,” Hotch said, cutting you off. “It’s fine. Just take your paperwork with you. I’ll have Garcia call you if we get a case, okay?”

“Thank you so much, Sir,” you said, heading back to your desk to grab your things. You didn’t need to take the day off to go take care of your sick boyfriend. However, your boyfriend was rarely sick. In the time that you’ve known him, you’d never seen him sick. Ever. You attributed it to his heightened awareness of the spread of germs and his commitment to handwashing. 

----------

On your way back to Spencer’s apartment, you made a quick pit stop at the local grocery store, picking up a few ingredients for your normal go to comfort foods. 

You set the bags down when you reached his apartment door, fishing your key out of your bag. You opened the door to find a full sink and no sign of Spencer. You set the groceries on the counter before peeking into his bedroom. 

Spencer was dead asleep, curled into the fetal position under his comforter and an additional three throw blankets. His hair was damp and matted on his forehead. There was a tense look on his sleeping face, brows furrowed and frowning. You stepped into the room, moving to situate yourself next to him on the bed. Gently, you brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead. “Y/N?” Spencer mumbled out, not yet opening his eyes. You leaned down to place a soft peck on his forehead, causing him to open his eyes. “I told you not to come,” he said sleepily, trying his best to sound stern. 

“As if I wouldn’t. How are you feeling, baby?” you asked, voice still hushed. 

“I have a fever. It’s probably the flu. Which means you’re going to get sick too,” he started, propping himself up on his elbows and pulling himself out of your gentle grasp.

You rolled your eyes before climbing all the way onto the bed and guiding him to rest back on your chest. “If I can handle kicking ass on a daily basis, I can handle a measly little cold. Now shut up and let me take care of you.”

Spencer huffed under his breath before settling his head on your chest, right over your heart. You could feel him relax as he listened to the steady pace of your heartbeat, drifting off to a more peaceful sleep. His eyebrows relaxed as you stroked his hair. 

----------

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep when you woke up, checking Spencer’s bedside clock to see it had only been about two hours. Instinctively, you checked your phone, making sure you hadn’t missed any calls from Hotch. By some miracle, you had no new notifications. Maybe just this once, the universe would give you a day to take care of your sick boyfriend without having to race off to play hero. 

Spencer was fast asleep, his breathing even and slow. You smiled to yourself before slipping out of his bed and resting his hand back against the pillows. You could lay there all day as he slept, but you knew you needed to start cooking now so he’d have something to eat when he finally emerged from his slumber. 

Your mother had always made homemade soup when you were sick. It was cheesy as hell, but it was what you knew. So you got to work cutting up the vegetables you brought from the store as you popped the chicken in the over. You hummed to yourself as you cooked, dancing around aimlessly and singing into the butcher knife in your hand. 

“Should I be concerned that you use knives as microphones?” Spencer asked, shuffling from his room, wrapped in a blanket. You froze, striking an Elvis pose with your knife as you smiled at him. His voice was less groggy now and he seemed to be a little more awake.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” you imitated Elvis, giggling a bit as you returned to chopping vegetables. “And listen, a girl has to make do with whatever makeshift mic she can find,” you teased, “Are you hungry?”

Spencer scrunched his face just enough for you to sense he still didn’t have an appetite. Regardless, he needed to eat. “I don’t need to be a genius to tell you how important it is that you get nutrients into your body-”

“Yeah, yeah” he grumbled, making his way to a cabinet behind you. He grabbed a sleeve of saltines from the middle shelf before hoisting himself onto the counter next to where you were slicing. “What are you making? It smells good.”

“Chicken soup,”

He hummed in acknowledgement, placing a cracker in his mouth. You smiled to yourself as the two of you sat in silence, you cutting up some celery and him munching on a cracker. You didn’t often get much domestic time together. With your work schedules, you didn’t have a lot of free time to begin with. Mostly, you’d do something quiet and low energy. It was hard to remember the last time you got to just be in each other’s presence while you did normal people things.

“What are you smiling around?” Spencer asked, looking at you inquisitively. 

You looked up at him, breaking into a bigger smile. “It’s nice, getting to just be with you on a weekday, making lunch. I’d rather you weren’t sick, of course, but we haven’t had a day off in forever.”

He grinned back at you, taking a moment to brush a strand of hair that escaped your bun behind your ear. “I love you,” he said plainly, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

You’d both said I love you before, but you still felt the same butterflies as the first time he said it. You could’ve stayed like that for the rest of time, reveling in his gaze. However, the oven beeped, letting you know the chicken was done. 

“I have to get that,” you whispered out, hating to remove your face from his light touch. 

You pulled the chicken from the oven before shooing Spencer out of the kitchen and back into bed, convincing him to get some more rest as you finished the soup.

----------

As you lounged on the sofa with Spencer’s head in your lap later that evening, it dawned on you that Hotch never texted. You actually got a real day off. You stroked Spencer’s hair softly, twirling some of his little curls between your fingers. “What’s that song?” Spencer asked, shifting to look up at you. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, clearly confused. “You’ve been humming something, I don’t recognize it,” he said.

You stopped for a moment, realizing it was the same song your mom used to sing you when you were sick. “I’m not actually sure what it’s called,” you admitted, “My mom used to sing it to me when I was sick. I don’t remember the words anymore, just the melody.”

Spencer nodded in agreement, still staring up at you. 

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing, I just love you, that’s all.”

“I love you more.”

He leaned up to give you a quick kiss, his lips far less chapped after you spent the day pumping him full of liquids and hot soup. He laid back on your lap, tuning back into the silly cartoon on the television screen. Your hands found their way back into his hair again, sighing contently.

[zishustits]

oooooh ship bingo! i recently heard about these two concepts and would love to hear your take: ye baiyi and lan xichen, and xie'er and lan xichen <3

Oohhh okay, first I have to say I'm not actually into crossovers BUT let's forget about that for a little bit, these concepts are interesting.

First, Ye Baiyi and Lan Xichen. Let's see what they have in common.

They are both high skilled cultivators, very relevant figures in their respective societies.

They share common values such as righteousness, compassion, honor, service without waiting for anything in return, even kindness (more explicit in Lan Xichen).

They are not rigid in their principles though. Both acknowledge that most of the times you cannot judge a person as bad or good, nor a situation as black or white. They have struggled with it sometimes (i.e. Ye Baiyi considering whether he should kill Wen Kexing or not after knowing he's the chief of Ghost Valley, while also being aware of the difficult circumstances that led him to become that evil figure, which are indirectly related to YBY as Rong Xuan was his disciple. Also Lan Xichen caught between the evidence that Meng Yao has committed very wrong deeds and the kindness he has known from him)

Both have lost their loved ones forever.

Both have a tendency for retirement and solitude.

Apart from that, LXC has this noble and respectable aura that makes people feel calm and reassured when he's around, like if there's any problem it's okay, LXC probably knows how to solve it, he's diplomatic, also he will protect his people from danger, always keeping that composed calmness that's inherent to him (even if there's inner turmoil).

Now I consider, Ye Baiyi is very similar too, think of those scenes in the first episodes of WoH, when he gave Gao Chong the token of honor, then at the second Heroes Conference when everyone turned to him as a guide for what to do with the Ghost Valley issue, and also when WKX and ZZS fell from the bridge Cheng Ling felt reassured having YBY to help him. People feel relieved when he's around to lead them and solve problems.

So now, if LXC and YBY met I think they'd be a good match, like they would sense the similarities of their souls, especially the influence they have on others, now I can't find the words, but it's related to the righteousness and the high moral values and elevated cultivation they have achieved. Also they would perceive the isolation that comes with being far from the mortal realm for so long (for Ye Baiyi) and with being an important figure of the cultivation society that also has lost someone who was very important to him (in the case of LXC).

I believe they'd connect easily, like oh I recognize you, you are similar to me. And also they would enjoy learning from each other, YBY has reached the most elaborated martial arts skills and LXC is outstanding in musical cultivation (or whatever name it is). They see each other as equals and no one feels less than the other.

However, I think Ye Baiyi would break all of the Lan rules XD and be upset all the time, like why can't I just sit on the roofs at night to watch the stars while drinking alcohol? But as LXC is the Gusu leader (I think? Can't remember what he was at the end of The Untamed) and he is far from strict as LQR was, he would ignore it. In fact, I think he knows most of the rules are outdated and unnecessary, so they just keep following the rules that are actually related to master one's discipline, being righteous, respecting your elders and seniors and being kind to your sworn brothers and so on.

They might cultivate together. Keep each other company even as they are just sitting there in meditative contemplation or just enjoying the silence. Talk about ancient knowledge.

As for the type of relationship, I don't actually think it would be of romantic or sexual nature, like they were devoted to one partner in the past (probably more platonically than anything, at least on YBY part) and seem to me the kind of people that does not engage with anyone else after his companion has died, at least in the same way, like sometimes it's hard to reach the same level of deep connection with someone else. That doesn't mean they could not forge a close relationship, but to me it's not the same vibe as xiyao or rongye (or whatever the name of this ship is).

Following the bingo classification, I'd say Best friends, or Qplatonic at most. Also I'm intrigued to know what other kind of relationship people think they could develop. If you want to share with me, I'd love to know your ideas!!

Okay, probably for the next one I'll try to write less because I realized how long this is getting (it's just a bingo, please brain!!!), and I should finish some college stuff buut it's not less interesting to me I swear!!

So Xie'er and LXC. First, I think LXC would be aware of the good that's in Xie'er and his potential, mostly his inexhaustible willpower and determination, which have been until now directed towards, let's say, flawed goals? All that energy and intelligence wasted on another man's dream. It's unacceptable!!

The principal thing that comes to my mind and that struck me since Xie'er first appeared was the he seems to know who is everyone, like he saw ZZS and WKX together for the first time and he thought, why are the former leader of the Window of Heaven and the chief of Ghost Valley together wtf? While everyone else was like oh, two righteous wanderers, never heard of them before. Xie'er clearly knows how to obtain the right information, he has the mind of a researcher, and that could be put to good use.

Also Xie'er knows a lot about venoms and their antidotes, is that not another relevant and useful skill he has??? Again here, he is a researcher, as for instance he discovered the cure to the Meng Po soup was Drunk like a dream. Furthermore, he probably knows a lot about survival, hiding, disguising himself, being a shadow amongst shadows, fighting (especially dirty tricks), and leadership skills. He also has some knowledge on magic tricks (with the Drug men) that could be the simile to demonic cultivation.

All this knowledge and abilities could be put to good use, not to achieve other's goals, but to help people, for example, finding a cure to their poisoning or demonic possession (or whatever), instructing others on different facts that could be useful if they need to hide from a threat, survive in the wild for some time, coming alive from a fight with a nasty opponent an so on.

I mean, I haven't mentioned LXC until now but let's assume he is aware of everything about Xie'er's skills that I have described. Also, he realizes Xie'er has a good soul, it's something you can see right away if you spend a minimum of time with him. He has shown it with actions too, for instance, when he released Liu Qian Qiao and his lover, also that scene after the battle at mount Qingya (I'm still crying about Cao Wei Ning and Gu Xiang, my poor babies ;~;) when he left WKX and ZZS go (although he had a sword to his neck gssbsbsbsb), and of course everything he did for Zhao Jing, out of his love and affection for him.

Okay, he has done bad deeds, but he has kindness in him. A kindness that has not actually been nurtured but has developed there anyways. He has a tendency to serve others, that we see mostly with his yifu. Those are important values that might be developed and focused to actions that make an improvement on people's lives, and probably on Xie'er's own.

And LXC is determined to do that. Like he sees Xie'er's efforts to serve others because it's something that comes naturally out of him, but realizes it needs to be properly acknowledged as no one has done that before (we only got to see him do things for his yifu, who rarely showed any gratefulness for it, and only this time with Qian Qiao she almost got to say something nice to him, but Xie'er turned away swiftly, like he is not used to receive positive feedback on his good actions at all, so probably it's not something that he feels comfortable with).

I believe LXC would nurture this good side of Xie'er, praising those little (and bigger) services he does for others, which would act as a positive reinforcement. Also he would show interest in Xie'er's skills, and what he does in his free time (like no one has shown some interest in this before?), as well as his emotional state and stuff. Showing that he genuinely cares about him. That he appreciates Xie'er for who he is.

Also he would encourage him to persevere on those abilities he has and teach others, maybe the Lan disciples. So Xie'er would see that his skills can be used for some other things that are not killing or trying to become the king of the world.

As for Xie'er, he would grow to like LXC, finally finding someone who really cares about him, knowing for the first time in his life what it is to be seen and appreciated by someone who does not expect nothing from him in return. Learning that he deserves to be loved that way (and I don't necessarily mean romantically).

And that he does not need to kill for others anymore. He can become the person he wants to be, not what others want to get from him. LXC would show him he can do good deeds and they will be appreciated, even if he's doing it for others is something he inherently has done before, it nurtures his soul. He needs to experience more of that. And LXC would encourage it. He is patient, he is kind, he rarely lashes out, he has predictable reactions unlike his yifu (I mean, when Xie'er did something to please him but sometimes he would react nicely and many others he wouldn't, let's ignore if his actions were morally correct or not, the fact is Zhao Jing would respond differently to similar things).

Also Xie'er is able to discern what's good and what's harmful, and I believe that given he could choose freely, without thinking is this what my Yifu would do, he would be inclined to do the good thing. LXC encourages that.

Okay, I will not elaborate more, probably I've even been redundant several times. This relationship would definitely be great for Xie'er, for him to learn what is a healthy bond and to grow as a person.

But I don't think it would develop into a romantic or sexual kind of relationship. It just don't give me those vibes. LXC and Xie'er have different backgrounds, LXC is a sect leader and devoted to cultivation, Xie'er is the leader of a shady assassin organization and has developed other kinds of abilities.

Dunno, I don't feel them like equals, as it feels with YBY and LXC, for them the cultivation/martial arts skills are one of the main pillars of their lives and it's something they can share together, LXC and Xie'er are way too different. There might be some power imbalance too, and LXC would be somewhat taking care of Xie'er and not quite the opposite? (save from those little services Xie'er would do for him). Well, this is not probably a good reason because I like some ships with power imbalances too.

But I mean, they just don't click to me as a couple at least. More like a teacher/student relationship perhaps, or a friendship at most. Perhaps I just can't ship it any other way because of my strugglr with crossovers, but with YBY and LXC it was clearer to me that, well, it could be possible.

I'd love to know your takes on these two concepts too, whether you talk to me directly or in a post!!

@goldensprite

[tanoraqui]

follow-up to this, and still working off inspiration in @robininthelabyrinth​‘s “Helping Yourself”. Fair warning, this text post is about 4k

Edit: now on AO3!

It turned out that the man in purple and the man in white were waging a whole war against the people in red and white, which was fantastic, because it meant Wei Wuxian could help the people he loved by slaughtering the people he hated. Total win-win! 

Before they took him to a battlefield, though, they took him to a camp - within walking distance unfortunately, no chance at all to be held by the beautiful man in white while flying on a sword through the chill air, clinging close for balance, warmth, and simply to cling...

But no sooner had they arrived than a woman in lilac rushed up to greet them - and when she saw Wei Wuxian, she picked up her skirts and positively sprinted, calling, “A-Xian! A-Xian! Oh.....you found him!”

On sheer reflex, Wei Wuxian dropped the sword he’d been carrying and caught her, and spun her into the air. She laughed and so did he.

She hugged him fiercely when her feet were back on the ground, and while he hugged her back (of course), over her shoulder, the man in purple made an impossibly hopeful face. 

So Wei Wuxian tried, he really did. The dead started to hiss with fury, but they eased when he just thought about his feelings in the moment. 

The same sort of warm relief, obviously, as at seeing the other two - even lighter, in fact. Nothing messy at all, except a dash of guilt that transmuted easily to more hatred for the people in red and white. This maiden was a precious gift and wise sage, and he was the one who could lift her into the air and spin, but his instinct was to curl up and let her hold him, whereupon everything would be okay in the world again.

Cultivators could look much younger than they were. She pulled back to look him over much like he’d once looked over the man in purple, and Wei Wuxian guessed, “Mother?”

Her face slid into uncertainty. The man in purple’s fell like a sword abruptly running out of spiritual energy midflight.

“A-Xian?” She pressed a hand to his forehead, then two fingers to the pulse point on his wrist. She looked back at the men in purple and white in alarm.

“Oh, good, I wasn’t imagining it,” the purple one said hollowly. “I don’t know..... He was in the Burial Mounds, he doesn’t remember anyone, and he doesn’t have his golden core.”

-

They asked him about it, as days turned into weeks, but of course, he couldn’t remember. They asked him why he couldn’t remember, and Wei Wuxian laughed, “I don’t recall!” They all seemed to agree that it must be a curse, but none of these learned cultivators could tell what it might be, particularly with all the resentful energy flowing about him (and he couldn’t give that up, wouldn’t give that up, because how else could he protect them? How else could he kill everyone who needed killing, and win the war? (And he couldn’t leave the dead behind anyway, but he didn’t say that - it would only worry the few he liked.))

They said that he should try to solve it himself, that he was clever and brilliant and if anyone could fix this, he could. Wei Wuxian laughed some more in delight, and if it was the man in purple, teased him until the tears disappeared from his furious eyes. If it was the beautiful man in white, he teased him, too, but the goal was more to incite a reaction than to diminish it.

The lady in lilac didn’t push, just looked at him sadly sometimes when she thought he wouldn’t notice. That made him feel a little bad, but...he really just couldn’t think of any reason to “fix” anything. So his memory was bad. So what? He knew what was important. Who was important. He only forgot again (they told him) if he didn’t see them for a few days, and he always recognized them anyway, by feeling if not face.

The few he especially liked made it easy. Wei Wuxian wasn’t stupid - he noticed that they set up a rotation, so he was always with the scowling man in purple, the beautiful man in white, or the kind lady in lilac. They weren’t that subtle about delivering him between themselves. He didn’t mind - he really liked them, after all, and he did often get lost, otherwise. There were plenty of other people in the camp to talk to - many clad in cheaper purple robes, or a scrap of purple tied around an arm, or an aspiring maroon or indigo embroidered with lotuses, all of which filled him with pride, protectiveness, and more guilt-hatred. But so many of them flinched when he approached them, or spoke with condescending pity, or asked too many questions about his flute and ghosts, ghouls, the way his shadow twisted sometimes with the restless resentment of the dead...all of which made Wei Wuxian’s temper rise, and the dead coil more restlessly yet... And that was just the people in purple. Very few of them showed him open hostility.

But the man in purple always shouted both him and anyone else apart before Wei Wuxian could snap, scowling in public even if ten minutes ago he’d been hugging Wei Wuxian in the tent they shared and telling him again to fix this. The beautiful man in white glared away anyone who offended him, even when sometimes they didn’t offend Wei Wuxian himself! And nobody quite dared be rude in front of the lady in lilac. She was too sweet. And often in charge of their food.

(Something tickled his mind, sometimes, when he ate her pork and lotus soup...but the dead hissed their complaints until the soup turned to ashes in his mouth, and he lost the thought again.)

He started to recognize a few others, by seeing them over and over in the same circumstances. Mostly in meetings. There were, it turned out, a stupid number of meetings involved in waging a war, and Wei Wuxian went to many of them - partly because the man in purple and the beautiful man in white both went to almost all of them, and partly because he actually did remember how to strategize about a battlefield, and he was the only one who really knew how he could direct the dead. So he had to attend meetings and, ugh, make plans, instead of just going out and killing as many people in red and white as he saw, then setting the new corpses against the next ones he saw, and so on.

The meetings - and apparently the whole army? - were directed by an impressively tall man, and every time they met, Wei Wuxian concluded that he might like this one. He didn’t seem to approve of the things Wei Wuxian did with the dead, but nor did he hesitate to work them into his battle plans. Another, to Wei Wuxian’s ongoing delight, was a second beautiful man in white, who looked almost exactly like Wei Wuxian’s beautiful man in white except this one made facial expressions that were more than a twitch. Which diminished much of the fun, really - what worth was a whole smile given away freely, as opposed to a sliver of an upturned lip that Wei Wuxian had to work for hours to earn, alternating teasing, cheer, and gentle affection? 

Still, it was such a joy to learn that such a person existed that Wei Wuxian did his best to hurry up and forget him after every meeting, so he could learn it again the next time.

There were always other people at the meetings, too, of course. People in gold who made Wei Wuxian’s teeth clench. Lesser commanders in grey and green, blue and white, the satisfyingly growing proportion of purple. Assortments of other colors. Once, one of the blue and white people got irritated at how he kept speaking out of turn (he might’ve remembered the rules of the meeting if he’d cared), and how every time he did, he leaned close over the beautiful still-faced one (he had to move the pieces on the map!) With a sharp gesture, she made his lips snap shut halfway through a word.

Wei Wuxian tore them open again as he sprang to his feet - they hurt and bled, but what didn’t? - and whistled sharply. The note wasn’t even done before a ghost rose through the table and sliced rage-sharpened claws through her throat. Without a thought, Wei Wuxian raised his flute and caught her body before it could fall. He might need it - everyone in the room was staring at him, now, and none looked happy. The dead hissed and roiled with anticipation.

Into the silence, the man in purple, on Wei Wuxian’s right, said tightly, “Obviously.....was disproportionate in his response, but equally obviously.....provoked him. Nonetheless, he and.....will be humbled to make any apologies and, indeed, pay recompense to.....and.....family in particular.”

He nodded formally to the beautiful man who made expressions (dismay and horror, just now), and at the same time reached over and shoved Wei Wuxian sideways towards the beautiful still-faced man. He was standing, too, now. He took Wei Wuxian by the elbow and dragged him protesting from the room as shouting erupted behind them. The ghost followed loyally; the corpse, raised but not yet given any other orders, stayed; the rest of the dead muttered in disappointment.

Oh, and there was one more person he liked! Not nearly as much as the others, but he was familiarly comfortable and fun to spend time with. Whenever Wei Wuxian got too bored in a meeting, he’d go find this one in whatever corner he’d claimed, with whatever book or card game he’d brought this time. Sometimes, he’d even find Wei Wuxian on other days and strike up a game himself. Best of all, every time they met, he’d smile coyly from behind his fan and introduce himself with a new (he said proudly) ridiculous fake name. Wei Wuxian actually managed to hold on to most of them for a few minutes. It was great - nobody else here seemed to know how to have fun.

-

Sometimes, eventually, all the meetings added up to battles. They were glorious. 

Wei Wuxian was always taken to battles by either the beautiful man in white or the man in purple - often smaller, quieter missions with the former, and louder, more dramatic things with the latter. He liked them both. Liked pressing up against trees together as they snuck up on enemies in the woods (you’d think all white wouldn’t be good for that, be he was surprisingly sneaky!) and watching up close and personal as the people in red and white realized they were about to die. Maybe picking them off one by one first, with corpses in the shadows, if there were more than a few...and then sending the new corpses after their former fellows. Making the enemy dance to his tune always prompted an extra bit of jig in the music, for the sheer giddy pleasure of it.

And the big battles! He’d go with the scowling man in purple and an assortment of others in purple, and he’d usually stay on a ridge with some of the others while his favorite went off to the front lines, along with the beautiful man in white. That was okay - it meant Wei Wuxian got to watch them fight while he played. And while Wei Wuxian played, nobody stopped fighting until Wei Wuxian decided they did. The slain on both sides rose again, and the living fought tirelessly if they didn’t want to join those dread ranks. 

Not that he ever forgot which people he was supposed to be killing! He didn’t hate the rank and file of the enemy the way he hated their red and white commanders, and he didn’t care that much about most of the people on “his” side, either. But the people he did care about were sometimes very emphatic about it, particularly before a big battle, and he got to do plenty enough. The screams and the scent of blood drifted up to his ridge and he played and played and played, until even the dead in his shadow were glutted. Even the hollow in his soul started to fill.

(And if sometimes when the battle raged highest, terrible enough to distract but simple enough to not need much care, he stole a moment to remember... That lightning whip flashing below - a cold-faced woman used to wield it. All the fighters in purple...he’d trained them. With them? No - they’re new and that was why he had to kill everyone in red and white. And the crashing chords of the guqin...no, the song he was still trying to remember was soft, a little shaky, by voice, and it‘d been dark...

He generally forgot again; something caught his eye on the battlefield and he trilled his corpse soldiers towards it, crying in triumph with the dead. But sometimes a scrap remained - a sliver of sunlight on water; another note of his song.)

-

One day, he accompanied the lady in lilac to bring soup to a sneering man in gold. This one always set Wei Wuxian’s teeth clenching particularly hard, and he would’ve been happier to just kill him and be done with it if everyone he actually liked didn’t pull his hand away from his flute every time.

But then he started shouting as well as sneering, slapped the soup to the ground and made the lady cry, and Wei Wuxian didn’t even bother to summon anything, he just bore the man to the ground with his own hands on the bastard’s throat. His pretty manicured fingers scrabbled against Wei Wuxian’s and around them people shouted, but the triumphant roar of the dead drowned them out. The man’s face turned purple as he choked and Wei Wuxian squeezed tighter, dug his nails into the pale flesh just to make a mark -

“Wei Wuxian! Wei Wuxian!” He became aware of a woman’s desperate cries, and her hands yanking fruitlessly on his arm. He snarled at her - who was she, to get in the way of him adding to the ranks of the dead?

Then he recognized his kind lady in lilac and hesitated, thumbs still pressed into the golden bastard’s airway.

“Sorry, did you want to finish him yourself?” he asked uncertainly.

“No!” she shouted, still pulling on his arm. “A-Xian, please get off of him! Let him breathe!”

Around them, people watched, held back by a circle of snarling ghosts and shadows. Corpses might be cleared away but this was a war camp; there were always ghosts. And where there weren’t, Wei Wuxian brought his own. Some of the darkness even pooled around the lady’s waist, drawing her back; she was leaning forward to reach him.

“But...he made you cry?” He remembered that easily, it was less than a minute ago. Tears still ran down her cheeks.

“You’re making me cry, now!” She pulled on his arm again. “Please!”

He loosened his grip on the man in gold and looked down at him. The man gasped in a few deep breaths, but as soon as they steadied, he started mouthing something toward the lady. He made a feeble shooing motion, even though his other hand kept prying at Wei Wuxian’s.

He didn’t look angry or scornful anymore. He looked...scared?

His gaze came back to Wei Wuxian and some of the anger returned, with a proud jut of his chin.

“Let.....go, Wei Wuxian,” he said, like it was a demand instead of a rasping plea. “I’ll fight you man on man, you and all your demons at once, but only if she and everyone else are safe.”

Wei Wuxian did let him go, because he was laughing too hard to stay focused, and he needed a hand free to slap him upside the head for sheer stupidity. As though this petty little peacock of a man could stand against Wei Wuxian and “all his demons.” And as though Wei Wuxian would hurt the kind lady in lilac, whom he liked - as though she was safest any place but at his side!

(Though...for a moment he’d forgotten her, hadn’t he? ...Hadn’t he? And now she was crying...no. He wouldn’t. She’d been here the whole time and he didn’t forget people who were here, didn’t forget who he liked and who he didn’t. Never killed anyone he didn’t want to.)

He slapped the man in gold again for good measure, then clambered off his chest and drew his flute. Everyone in the crowd flinched, especially those being held back by ghostly hands on their flesh or shadows twined around throats. Wei Wuxian smirked, and played a few notes to disperse or call back the dead, as they pleased. 

Then he helped the lady to her feet, tucking her hand into his elbow.

“Come on, miss,” he said as he tugged her away. “We can get our own soup, now, right? Ooh, we can add all the spices to it that these losers can’t handle!” He smiled, trying to make her smile back. Nobody used as much spice in their food as the people who wore purple, and nobody used as much as Wei Wuxian. “Ooh, I saw some peppers...somewhere. Do you think we could make more chili sauce?”

(And if, behind her back, a last trailing shadow snapped someone’s neck...well, Wei Wuxian really wanted to kill someone in gold. It was mercifully fast, it satisfied both himself and the dead, and the kind lady didn’t have to see it, even if she did turn around at the cries and ended up scolding him anyway.)

That night, he slipped out of the tent he shared with the man in purple and snuck to the edge of camp - far enough to not be disturbed, but close enough to not be accused of wandering dangerously off. He settled himself against a tree and slip one arm open elbow to wrist - shallow and singular enough to not kill him, but deep enough to risk it.

Bleeding, he fell unconscious quickly.

(He dreamed. He lay on hard grave dirt, broken, starving. He drifted with ghosts, helpless, lost. He was surrounded by the dead, their resentment and their wrath. 

“Let me have something,” he begged. “One person, one thing to hold on to.”

You promised, Wei Wuxian, they hissed, murmured, roared. You live only for the dead. Remember us, not them. Bear us, heed us, swell our number.

“And recognize friend from foe!” he shouted back. “You promised, too!”

The living are all foes, they snarled, whispered, snapped. They forget, they despise, they send you away in scorn. No reason to care for them at all.

He clenched his fists, if he had fists. “One thing. One steady fact to hold on to, about one person, or I’ll...”

You’ll what? they muttered, jeered. Oathbreaker. Heartbeater. Living soul.

Light flared out from him, or rather, sharper-edged darkness, because he, too, was strong. But he was also surrounded and outnumbered. He bowed his head.

“I’ll stop fighting. Give me one thing to hold on to, and I’ll- I’ll stop fighting on everything else.”

The dead grew restless with excitement. The shadows that were all there was grew even longer. Only one? Only one little thing?

“Along with everything else I have,” he said sharply. “I recognize everyone I care about, even if I don’t remember them, and remember them for three days. We only kill when I say. I know my own self. But I’ll stop- I’ll stop trying otherwise. No more sneaking memories during battle, or playing identity games with...that one, or...” He nearly faltered. “Or trying to remember that song.”

They didn’t speak any agreement. They simply conjured for figures - twisted, grotesque, and rotting, but it was far too late for Wei Wuxian to be put off by such petty attempts to turn him off. They demanded, Choose.

He dismissed the shade of himself almost instantly (broken-boned, tearing slowly to pieces in the tender, wisp-like hands of the dead.) He chose this; he clearly had no sense.

He turned away from the man in purple nearly as quickly (bare-chested to show a gaping, bleeding scar; colored now with deep bruises, whip-marks, a strangled face with a lightning-burned collar.) Wei Wuxian would literally, willingly, die rather than hurt him, but they still shared too much vengeance. He wouldn’t be enough.

He hesitated for so long before the beautiful man in white. His face was unharmed, because anything else would’ve hurt less; it bore only the slightest grimace of pain, because nothing else would’ve seemed real. Below, he’d been struck so many times that his robes were blood-red.

But...there was still that wariness. He was impeccably honorable, and let Wei Wuxian press him against trees, all but sit in his lap, listen to him play guqin for hours while trying, quietly, to remember his own song...but he never made his own moves. When would he, inevitably, call a stop? Or, worse, would he never?

There’d really only ever been one option, with all the wisdom and mercy the rest of them lacked (her face, too, was bruised and broken; her limbs, mangled; victim of violence she never should’ve been party to.) He pointed, and remembered what he chose as he did it.)

He woke to soft sheets and warm spiritual energy flowing into one arm, while the other felt heavy under bandages. 

He turned to the former and smiled lazily at a beautiful man in white. The sight of him made his heart speeded up in anticipation and slow down in reassurance at once.

“Hey,” he said, and winked as the beautiful man focused on him with a gaze like worried sunlight. “I’m kinda tired now, but d’you wanna wake up together tomorrow, too?”

“Wei Wuxian!” a vaguely familiar voice cried, joy fading instantly to disgust. “You do some stupid fucking thing, get blood all over, and the first thing you say is that?”

“.....shush.” A maiden in pale purple clutched the hand below his bandaged arm with a watery laugh. “Be happy that A-Xian is back with us.”

“Of course I’m here, shijie. I’m sorry to have worried you.” He reached up to wipe away her tears. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to distress her, wasn’t sure why his arm was bandaged and only an infusion of spiritual energy was bringing him to wakefulness, but he knew those tears couldn’t stay. He joked, “You’d have to kick me out yourself to get rid of me, you know?”

“I know,” she said, and held his hand against her cheek. “But A-Xian - ” 

She froze, gripping his hand so hard her nails dug in, her eyes wide. “What did you say? What did you call me?” 

He wracked his mind in confusion, but his memory wasn’t that bad. “Shijie?”

She was, after all. His sister in all but blood, for as long as and in any way that she’d have him. That had never been in dispute.

...Right?

The harsh speaking man in purple all but crashed onto the end of the bed, gripped Wei Wuxian’s ankles like either he or the man was going to fly off any second.

“What else do you remember?” he demanded, very similar eyes wide and slightly wild. “Do you know her name? Do you know who I am?”

Not off the top of his head - but he’d tear his heart out for this one, he knew that much, so he tried. Something about tearing out - 

The dead bellowed their rage, hard enough to shake the windows; to shake the very earth. But it was all within Wei Wuxian’s mind, or what remained of his soul. The force of it scoured clean whatever thought he’d been chasing.

A man in purple robes slumped on the end of his bed with a dejected sob. Wei Wuxian pushed off a (very beautiful) man in white in his rush to sit up and pull him closer, hug him tight around the shoulders and run soothing fingers through his hair.

“Hey, hey,” he said, searching for soothing words. “I’m here. I’m alive, and so are you. No one’s going anywhere.”

Help, he mouthed over the man’s shoulder to his sister, who knelt beside the bed. Come to think of it, she wore purple, too... 

He paused his hair-stroking for a moment to point at the man and mouth, Is he yours?

He was willing to help anyway, of course. He quite liked this man, he knew it, even as he pulled away from the hug and messed with his hair like Wei Wuxian had ruined it, snapping, “Of course no one’s going anywhere. You think I’m letting you out of my sight, after...whatever that stunt was?”

Wei Wuxian grinned, comforted by the growling care. And doubly comforted when the beautiful man in white finished politely looking away and laid a hand on his chest to push him back down to the pillow.

“Wei Ying still needs rest,” he said firmly, and picked up his wrist to resume transferring spiritual energy. “Wei Ying lost a dangerous amount of blood, with no golden core to heal him.”

Wei Ying was...Wei Wuxian? Yeah, that sounded right. He was starting to wonder what he’d done to get everyone so worried, but (the dead whispered) it probably wasn’t important. Hell, knowing him, he’d probably do something worse tomorrow.

And he was tired.

“I’ll rest if shijie tell me a story,” he announced as he tugged the blanket back up to his chest, and wiggled himself into a more comfortable position on the mattress.

“What are you, three?” she said. More tears ran down her cheeks.

Wei Wuxian nearly sat up in protest (against the tears, not the accusation), but she, too, pushed him down. 

“No, no, you’re resting,” she said. “.....you too. You were up half the night. And of course.....is welcome to listen.” She pushed the man in purple down to lean against the bed, took his old spot by Wei Wuxian’s feet and started unfastening the ornament in his hair. 

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess with two strong.....”

(It was a lovely story, even if Wei Wuxian fell asleep halfway through and the dead kept chattering over a third of what came before. But he was sure it was a lovely story. It gave him pleasant, empty dreams.)

[lalahbug]

Guidance - Zuko x Reader Chapter 1

Fandom: Avatar the Last Air bender Word Count: 3,819 My Masterlist Warnings/disclaim: General In this fic, characters are aged up, to what I see fit for my story, but will stay roughly on the same timeline This takes place on the timeline after the North Pole and Zuko and his Uncle go their separate ways for a bit. If you’ve never seen ATLA, the story may be confusing and vague/give spoilers.   Author’s Note: under the story ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting.  Story under cut, 1 of 8: Guidance Masterlist

Limply riding along on his ostrich-horse Zuko clung to his stomach as a waft of food hit him. It was coming from a nearby forest, he turned the animal into the trees a bit before demounting and tying the reins to a trunk near some water. Zuko quietly walked, following the smell of food, the closer he got he could tell it was fish. 

A woman came into view, she looked around his age, but was alone, with many basins of salt, which he amused was for curing some type of meat. He kept low and quiet, waiting for the perfect moment to steal some food. 

Watching the girl intently, Zuko gripped the hilts of his double swords when she sat down a couple of leaves on the ground. She took the fish, which she had been roasting and rotating above a flame, gently pushed it off the stick it was cooking onto the leaf. She repeated the movements until 3 fish were on each leaf, she picked up one and sat down. 

After sipping her tea, she sat another cup across from her, with the other pile of cooked fish. This confused Zuko, because she seemed alone, yet was setting a place across from her, repeating with some rice in small bowls. 

“You are very stealthy but I apologize, not good enough to evade me.” The lady spoke softly, after a bite of rice. “Please come join me, you’re hungry, I could hear your stomach.” 

Zuko froze, it seemed like a trick, yet his need for food drove his feet forward slowly. 

“Would you like some water along with your tea and food?” She gave him a gentle smile as he emerged from the forest into her clearing. 

“Why?” Zuko demand. 

“Why not?” She retorted, pouring him a cup of water and setting it near the food. 

Zuko glared at her, he didn’t want to just take food given, yet it was technically better than trying to steal it when it was clearly free. 

He gingerly sat down in front of her, eyeing her. 

She chuckled a bit then sighed, “are you going to let that food go to waste?” 

“Answer my question, why?” 

“Technically I did, you didn’t answer mine. Why not?” Zuko glanced down at the food before glaring at her again, causing her to sigh again. “Let’s just chalk it up to me not wanting to fight today. I’ve had a very nice day, and I have enough food and supplies to share with someone who does not. Is that a good enough answer for you?” 

“So, you’re only giving it to me because you’re in a good mood?” He sneered. 

“No,” she stated calmly, taking a piece of fish and eating it. “I’m doing it because I know what it's like to travel and have almost nothing. It’s not pleasant. It’s not something I would even wish upon my enemy; hunger is the cruelest torture of life.” 

Zuko looked at the food again, before picking up the fish and starting to eat it. 

 Zuko kept eyeing her as they ate in silence, she didn’t bother to start conversation nor stared at him, her calm composure was throwing him off, but it also calmed him as it reminded him of Uncle Iroh. 

When Zuko was done eating, she handed him a water bladder, it was bigger than the empty one upon his person. 

“Trade me, I need a smaller one for watering plants.” Zuko glanced over at her makeshift home and saw a couple of pots with flowers near her makeshift wall. 

Zuko traded with her, without any words then he stood up to leave, as he turned, he glanced at her over his shoulder, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” she paused as he started to walk away. “Would you like some feed for your ostrich-horse?” 

Zuko paused at the line of the clearing, mulling it over, she was frustrating him. 

“Why? Because you think I need handouts from a homeless person?!” He shouted at her. 

“I may be homeless, but at least I am not lost. I see the hurt and loss within you, I’ve been there, it’s easier to get through when you’re not alone and not wondering when you’ll eat again.” 

“So, you pity me? There is no way you could know what I’m going through! What I’ve lost!” 

She opened a piece of parchment with his face on it, his wanted poster. 

“Prince Zuko, I may not know what you’re going through exactly but I know what you’ve lost.” 

“If you know who I am then why would you feed me? Give me water? Offer me feed?” 

The woman stood and walked towards him, with an open hand, offering it to him.  “Because I know what it's like to be not wanted by anyone, not even my home.” 

Zuko could see her eyes water a bit before quickly blinking them away, he could see the truth behind her words, and the sorrow within her eyes. 

Zuko looked down at her hand, “so what are you offering?” He asked softly. 

“To teach you how to live on your own, and possibly guide you to yourself.” 

Her words struck him the way his Uncle’s do, but this time, he knew that the one behind the words had been in his place before. But was she was so lucky to have someone to help her, would he choose his self-isolation or take the chance to learn? He furrowed his brow not knowing any of the answers. He looked up into her eyes then gently shook her hand. 

“Okay.” 

A few weeks had passed with Zuko and ___, he learned her name and told her his fake name, Lee, in case anyone came around. He found out she was 20, 2 years older than him, yet she seemed so much more knowledgeable on just about everything he had questions on. 

“And that is how to make a basket,” she said calmly, giving her basket to him. 

Zuko grunted and started to weave the pieces together, getting more and getting frustrated as the pieces wouldn’t stay together. 

“Here,” ___ sat closely next to him, moving his hands into a different position. “You can’t use so much force, you’re simply weaving pieces together, keeping composure and being firm, with your hands further apart and it should be easier. It’ll still take practice, but you’ll get it.” 

___ gently patted his shoulder before standing up and moving over to the fire, where she was cooking soup. 

“Why would I need a basket anyways?” Zuko grumbled as he took the process a bit slower and more seriously. 

“If you become good at it, you can make more watertight ones, so you can brine or soak meats before curing them, so you have more food while traveling. A couple of good baskets with salt in them, on the side saddle of your animal, you’ll just have to start a fire to cook, then you could eat and rest. Or knowing you, cook then continue.” She laughed slightly at her comment as she stirred the soup. 

Zuko put down his in-process basket, which was holding its shape thankfully and not coming undone the moment it wasn’t being held together. 

“How long have you been on your own?” Zuko asked before drinking some water. 

“I guess about 8 years now, soon to be 9. I left home right before my 12th birthday.” 

Zuko sat down to eat as she handed him a bowl of soup. Scooping soup for herself then sitting next to him. “What happened?” 

___ ate some of her soup before looking at the flames flicker. “Where I’m from,” she started hesitantly, “as a girl, you get married at 16, have a child, but you can’t fight, only can you learn how to aid and heal others. 

“My mother didn’t follow that path, she had me, outside of wedlock and kept me secret from everyone but our maid and my nanny. My mom was higher up in politics, working long hours, but when she came home, she’d send home my nanny and the maid, and it would be just us. She doted on me, loved me, but above all, I was still a secret, no one outside of our home knew I existed, not even my father. 

“I was about 8 or so when I begged and cried for her to take me shopping with her. I hadn’t been allowed outside of the house and I was tired of being a good girl and staying all cooped up. After what seemed like days, she finally agreed. Everyone stared at me as I clung to her, I was so excited but scared of everyone eyeing me. 

“While we were at a store, getting me some new clothes, a man ran up to my mother. Panting as if he ran with all his force, my mother hid me behind her. They argued quietly for a bit before my mom let me come out and introduced me to the man. Saying he was my father. The man broke down crying then hugged me like I’d disappear if he let go. 

“Once we were home, my mom explained to me that she never told my father about me, and when the town saw me, someone told him that his ex was walking around with a child that looked like him. She explained to me that to get where she was in her career, she couldn’t let a scandal like me out. She told me that if I wanted, I could go to school with other kids and see my father more to get to know him. 

“At the time I was just happy to have the opportunity to finally make friends and have a dad. A few years passed and my parents eventually got married and we lived like a true family.” 

___ had a smile the whole story until now, her face fell a bit. 

“My parents, being important members of our nation, were sent on a mission. They never returned. I don’t really know what happened to them, but it’s one of two things. Either Fire Nation got them, or nature did. I think it was nature, we had a very harsh winter that year and I never saw any soot in the sky, my mom and dad were supposed to stay close to home. 

“So, I was an orphan, but more than that I was angry at nature, the world. I wanted to learn how to fight and get strong. I begged the master and our council and even attempted to fight the master. 

“Of course, having no training nor good stamina, I got beat down again and again, over a week. One day, an elder came to me, telling me I’d taunted and tainted our traditions. If I was willing to let go of my anger I could stay home, but if I continued to be brash and try to fight, I would need to leave as my anger and thoughts were not welcome there. 

“So, I left, with very little, and all the money my mother and father had.” 

___ stopped, getting herself and Zuko more soup. After a few moments, she sighed softly as she could feel Zuko’s eyes on her, silently asking her to continue. 

“I went back a couple of years after I left and they could tell I had become a fighter, on my own. Because of that, I was forbidden to come home, to even enter the walls. I was sent away and I haven’t looked back.” 

“Where are you from?” Zuko asked softly, but she didn’t answer, she simply added some wood to the fire. “You know where I’m from, tell me.” Zuko tried to persuade her. 

“The North Pole,” she spat the words while poking the fire. 

“Are you a waterbender?” 

She chuckled dryly, “not a very good one. But I can fight, I know chi blocking, heal a bit, and I have very good senses, they are heightened. Which is how I heard you coming before.” 

“I didn’t know the North Pole was like that, it seems, so sexist,” he whispered while glancing at her before handing her a cup of water. 

“I didn’t have the happiest childhood, but not the worst, the war didn’t affect me until I left home. I’ve seen the devastation, so I made it my will to help everyone I can.” 

“But why would you help me, I’m Fire Nation, I’m the prince.” 

“You are as affected by the Fire Nation as the rest of the world. You were a child speaking with worry about your citizens with care and goodwill. For it, you were burned and banished for showing weakness, for showing loyalty and love to your father. At least when you were a kid, you were banished for trying to be good. I was banished for following my anger.” ___ gave him a soft smile, and it made his heart hammer. 

“No one has ever said I was good,” he murmured. 

“You have a dysfunctional family, the only good one is your uncle. It took him a while and pain to find his way. I know you’ll find your way.” 

“I just want my throne, my home, my country, my honor.” 

“I’m going to say something and I suggest you think about it.” 

“Just spit it out already, oh wise one,” Zuko said sarcastically. 

“No one can take your honor. No one can take your birthright from you. You need to take it back; you don’t have to earn and prove yourself to anyone. Who are you? Who do you want to be? What do you want out of life, for yourself? Look inside yourself and ask yourself the hard questions. Stop living up to the person someone wants you to be, be yourself, the best version of you. Because no one can take that from you, no one can be you, but you.” 

Zuko glared at the fire internalizing her words. “You sound like my uncle,” he said bitterly. “But with less nonsense and straight to the point.” 

“Still I guess my words can sound like nonsense if I’m not careful,” she laughed softly. “Come one, it’s time for bed.” 

Zuko sighed softly before helping ___ pick up the campsite and put out the fire. She cleaned up the dishes and put them away, going into the tent. 

“Hey, Zuko, it’s getting colder outside. Would you like to sleep inside or at least have a sleeping bag?” She asked while putting a blanket on to the ostrich-horse who was lying down next to the tent. 

Zuko stared at the ground for a moment, it was colder last night, and although the sleeping bag would be nice, the shelter would be better. 

“You’re furrowing your brow, thinking about it so much,” she laughed slightly before poking the bunched-up skin in-between his eyebrows. He glared at her slightly, “Since your debating, let me throw in another option. You can do both, have a sleeping bag, and come inside.” ___ gave him a soft smile; his heart did an odd twist at her smile. 

“Okay,” he looked away from her and walked into the tent. It was definitely warmer inside, probably because of the foliage she had around it. 

He saw her cot in the back and near one of the walls, she’d already laid out the bag for him nearby. ___ came in and started tidying up a bit more, putting some more things into a large backpack. 

“What’s the backpack for?” He’d seen it here and there; within the days he’d been there. 

“Oh, this is my necessities bag, so if I’m attacked or something happens, I can grab this bag and run. I’d have the most important things so I can start over.” 

“That’s a very good idea,” he mumbled softly before sitting down on the sleeping bag. “So, what are you teaching me tomorrow? I’ve learned fishing, gutting and deboning the fish, brine and curing, identifying good and bad berries and herbs, and today the baskets.” 

“I actually need to go into town tomorrow,” she said while taking off her heavier clothes. “I haven’t been in a couple of months. I’m a bit low on rice and potatoes. The blacksmith was supposed to make me a heavy-duty pan like the one I make soup in. Plus, I need to sell some things. Like baskets, cured meats and fish, I made some jewelry last month, I should sell that too.” ___ continued, but it seemed more so like she was rambling to herself. 

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Zuko groaned. 

“Come with me, I usually stay there for a week or so when I go. I do things around town, helping people, earning money. I’ll teach you some labor stuff, so when you leave and are on the road again. You’ll know how to look for things to fix, to get a free meal, supplies, or even money; if they have it.” 

“How long have you been doing this?” 

“Well, I’ve been here in this spot for about 2 years, I will probably be leaving soon, but there are two good towns here. I’ve been helping towns for about 4 years. I was wandering and learning to fight for about 2 years before settling down. You know, learning about plants and stuff too.” 

“So, you’ll just leave this place for a week and come back.” 

“Yeah I usually go every month into town, but,” she trailed off while getting into bed. 

“But?” 

“So, there's this guy, he’s nice and all, but he’s not my type, just a little too,” she paused for a moment before getting the right wording. "Complacent. I want to travel again someday, move around as I wish. He wants to just stay in one place his whole life. He’s been very flirty lately and I just don’t want him to bother me. Nor do I want to nicely put him down and give him any hope. He’s kinda too confident for his own good, which can also be annoying.” 

“Oh,” Zuko mumbled. ___ is attractive, even to him, and her kind heart is very enduring. “How often does that happen to you?” 

“Not much. I try not to let anyone be too friendly, because I won’t be around long. Nor do I want to make a good friend and feel conflicted about exploring my life.” 

“What if you loved them?” 

“I don’t know. You can’t plan who you love. But I would hope they would want to travel with me, or at least be willing to in the future, once the war ends.” 

“You seem so sure the war will end.” 

“I am,” she stated calmly. 

“How?” Zuko asked. 

___ yawned, “it’s a story to tell another day.” She rolled over facing away from him. 

Zuko groaned and lied down annoyed. 

“Goodnight Zuko,” she mumbled softly. 

“Night ___,” he grumbled. 

Wind was whipping at the tent, waking Zuko, he sat up to look over at ___ to see how she could sleep through this noise. But he was shocked to see her cot empty. He gently lit a flame in his hand and called out her name, but got no reply. He got out of the sleeping bag and went outside to look for her. 

He looked about the general area of the campsite, but couldn’t see her. Eventually, he wandered towards the nearby river and froze when he saw ___ standing in the middle of it.  

___ was elegantly moving water, wearing a beautiful white dress that flowed and moved with her. Pushing, pulling, and swirling the water all around her, polished and gentle. There was no strength, just graceful movements. Zuko had only fought waterbenders, he never saw the beauty in it as he did now.  

As she slowed her movements she looked up at the full moon, with her face in the luminescence he could see tears streaming down her face. His heart tightened at the sight, he could almost feel how much pain and desolation she felt even with the distance between them.  

___ slowly sat down in the water, curling her knees into her chest, resting her head on the tops of her knees. A few moments passed when the water started to glow around her, illuminating all the water around her. The glowing water slowly consumed her; ___ lifted her head as the water reached her neck. Zuko could see her taking a deep breath, preparing for the void. 

The sight was unsettling as she was engulfed, vanishing along with the glow of water. Zuko wanted to jump in after her but his confusion as to why she would let it happen kept him in place. He came back to his senses realizing he could barely hear with the wind because the sound of his blood was pounding within his body.  

Zuko slowly sat down on the ground trying to calm down, as his heart calmed, he could hear the wind did too. He could only think of Zhao, who had been taken by the ocean spirit. What spirit wanted ___ and why? 

While contemplating, the river started to glow again. Zuko watched intently as he could start to make out ___’s body within the water, pushing her gently up onto the riverbank. She was motionless, Zuko scrambled to his feet and ran to her side. Being closer he could see she was breathing slowly. She was dry, the water didn’t drown her, it simply took her and returned her. But why? 

___ took a deep breath while exhaling her eyes opened and the same glow as the water was there, briefly. Zuko was lost for words, as their eyes locked. 

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was soft but raspy as if she’d been sleeping. 

“You weren’t in bed, so I came looking for you. What happened to you?” 

___ sat up slowly looking away from him, clearly debating on what to say, depending on how much he saw, “how long have you been here?” 

“A while,” Zuko answered a bit curt, he wanted answers, not more questions. 

She stood up slowly, Zuko mirrored her warily and cautious as she looked weak. She wobbled a bit, Zuko quickly wrapped his arms around her. 

“Are you okay?” Even though he was annoyed and curious, he was also concerned. 

“I’m vastly drained,” she rested her head against his shoulder. Although he stiffened a bit, it was pleasant to him, he welcomed the feeling while tightening his arms around her. Something about this just felt so accurate, he rested his cheek on top of her head. Soon her weight started to drift onto him more and her breathing slowed. 

“___?” Zuko called her gently, but when she didn’t answer. He gingerly scooped her up into his arms, carrying her back to her bed. 

Author’s Note: I haven’t wrote a story with intent to make it visible in a long time. So new work 2020, I refell in love with Zuko, like a lot of people did with the resurface of Avatar being on Netflix, I’ve watched it three times now, aha. Fanfiction wasn’t a part of my life/world when it first came out when I watched it. But Avatar did launch me into my love of anime, and from there I eventually found fanfics, then started writing them. I feel very late to post a Zuko fic, but this story has been in my head ever since I rewatched it, the first time. So, hopefully, someone is craving more Zuko fics like me and they’ll enjoy this with me <3

[crossdressingdeath]

You are being a bit too hard on JYL. While she wasn't a perfect sister, she was also a victim to her parents dysfunctional relationship and she was only 2 years older than the boys. She was a poor cultivator and had a very weak constitution. She also had no political power despite her high birth. I'm pretty sure she never got any apologies for any of the slights against her character and on the pheonix mountain scene doesn't Jin Zixun storm off and then madam jin completely dismisses the situation as JYL being silly? Madam Jin loves JYL but I would say she doesn't respect her. JGS doesn't respect Madam Jin either so even if JYL went to her, nothing would be done. However JZXuan does invite WWX genuinely so I would say JYL was trying to improve WWX's situation as much as she could. As for not giving any financial support, she was completely dependent on JC and then the Jins, so I dont see how she could have helped there. Also I could totally see JC selling JYL to the Jins to appease JGS so she could be used as a political hostage against WWX.

Some points, in no particular order: First off, Madam Jin for sure respects JYL. Yeah, she dismisses JZXun insulting WWX (that’s important; he’s insulting WWX, a glorified servant, not JYL) because WWX is just a servant, but when JYL says that this isn’t a minor thing to her Madam Jin orders JZXun to apologise. To a servant. To appease JYL. That suggests the opposite of what you’re saying; it suggests that Madam Jin adores and respects JYL enough that she’ll force her family to lower themselves to the level of a man viewed by the Jins as a servant for her sake. And if she’s prepared to do that, maybe she could be convinced to do other things! Like... I don’t know, send servants to buy some food at market that can then be sent to Yiling? Or, alternately, JYL could ask the adoring husband who will give her anything she wants for money which she could then send to Yiling. And if she doesn’t trust anyone from Lanling (or Yunmeng; if she can ask JC to bring her to Yiling she can ask him to deliver some money) enough to think they could be persuaded to help her out with this, including the brother who she knows knows the Wens and WWX are innocent, then that raises a whole bunch of other questions about things like why the fuck she trusted anything the Jiangs and Jins said about WWX.

In fact, that’s kind of the issue here. Everything about her being dependant on JC and then the Jins raises an important question: if she, as she seems to, doesn’t doubt that JC and the Jins are being honest in their dealings with WWX... then why doesn’t she ask them to help him? Why doesn’t she even try? She goes to the Burial Mounds with JC and sees how badly things are going for WWX... and doesn’t feel the need to question whatever story JC gave her about what WWX was doing?

See, that’s the problem at the end of the day. It’s not about whether JYL could have done anything (although I’d say she could’ve done more than she did), it’s about whether or not she tried. Which... there’s no evidence she did. She brings WWX soup one time, but there’s no evidence that she tried to send him and his people actual supplies, or the means to acquire those supplies on their own. She convinces JZX to invite WWX to JL’s one month anniversary, but JZX is still assuming that WWX is the aggressor even though at least in CQL JYL knows for a fact he’s not and should have told him that. She shows up in her fucking wedding dress talking about her approaching marriage to the son of the man who’s in the process of ruining WWX’s life and there isn’t a single word that implies she’s at all unhappy with this situation; while I did say that JC could have forced her to marry JZX against her will there is no evidence that that was in fact the case and it looks more like he was just doing what she wanted him to. (Honestly the wedding dress thing in general is like... on the surface it’s a sweet gesture, and I’m sure that’s what she meant it as, but if you think about it her showing up in the dress WWX won’t be able to see her get married in to give him enough soup to keep a couple people fed for maybe a day when he’s got fifty starving civilians up that mountain and let him name the nephew he’s never going to get to meet and talk about her marriage into the family that’s currently running a massive smear campaign to get WWX killed and then leaving and as far as we see never trying to help him after that beyond wrangling him an invite to an event that clearly no one wants him at besides her is such a slap in the face whether that was intentional on her part or not that I’m surprised it doesn’t get talked about more.)

Look, JYL may be a woman in a patriarchal society and a weak cultivator, but it does not follow that she has no power. Or that no one respects her or is willing to apologise to her for slights against her, for that matter. She’s the sister of a sect leader. The wife of a sect heir. Even if she failed to actually achieve anything, the fact is that her lack of suspicion towards her family (by birth and marriage) and their actions in regards to WWX’s situation makes it pretty obvious to me that either she asked them to help or look further into the matter and didn’t feel the need to question why the only person willing to so much as make an attempt was her husband... or she didn’t ask at all. And the latter seems more likely, given how we see her react to conflict between her brothers; it’s “boys will be boys” and “they’re just teasing, they’re as bad as each other” all the way down, even when JC is threatening WWX with his literal worst fear or telling him that the children of servants will never amount to anything. JYL will defend WWX from outsiders, but the second he’s being targeted by JC she just decides everything’s fine. Maybe she really couldn’t have helped him! Maybe bringing him a bowl of soup and pretending everything was fine really was all she could do! But given there’s no mention either from her or from the narration itself that she so much as tried to do more... Well, it raises questions, and the fact that those questions are never brought up in this fandom means that I perhaps feel the need to be a little firmer on this point than I might be otherwise.