#it’ll get easier though just feels like a loss of a friend right now
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mer-se · 2 months ago
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beaut 🐎 🍂
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shadowofahope · 2 years ago
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Tell Me Again
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Warnings: Mentions of sexual relationship and nudity
Pairing: FWB! Jungkook x (f)reader
Premise: You always knew what your relationship was. You always knew he was still in love with his ex. Now she's back, but you won't let him avoid his feelings.
Author’s notes: Hey Babes! I'm sorry I've been gone so long. After a death in the family I found out I was pregnant. So far this pregnancy has been really rough and all I'm really able to do is sleep. I'm hoping now that I'm in my second trimester I'll have more energy and the brain fog will clear. In the mean time here's a little drabble for you! 💜
Word count: 1.4K
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“Tell me again why you’re here right now and not running to her hotel begging her to stay?” You chide him, watching his naked form climb out from under your covers. Gathering them around you, you keep yourself comfy in the after glow. But still manage to eye him curiously as he moves around your space collecting his clothes, searching his face for what should be an obvious answer. 
“It’s not that easy y/n” He groans in annoyance, pulling his jeans over his perk butt. The sounds of the metal of his zipper echo his uneasiness. Even after so many conversations about this topic it never seemed to get easier for him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy our little one on ones.” You throw a pillow at him, shifting his focus back to you. Quick reflexes he catches it before it collides with his still naked back. “But this is the same woman you’ve told me about since we became friends. The one you’ve never been able to forget. Her having to leave the country was the only reason for you breaking up, blah blah blah.” 
“Yes, that one. But…” His fists tighten on the white linen of the pillow. His demeanour morphing into something anxiety ridden. “What about …. This?”
“Jeon, we both agreed what this was, and still is. Nothing has changed on my end, we are still friends.” You smile affectionately at his concern. “Unless you’re inlove with me then i completely get it.”
“HA. HA.” You both burst into laughter. One of the bonus’ of having Jeon as your FWB was that you had agreed right at the beginning to keep an open line of communication. No lines would be crossed behind closed doors, no accidental feelings, no possiblility of heart break or a one-sided loss. And as much fun as you two had together, other than physically you weren’t eachothers type. You fit well in the bedroom, but you regularly annoyed one another. Your personalities were a bit much, so being casual friends that met up only because your friend groups crossed was the best decision to keep you from killing one another. 
“Besides your friend Mingyu looks like he could be fun.”
The smuggness in your voice is not lost on him as you feel the cool thump of a pillow landing on your bare back. “Be nice.”
“Just saying.” You grumble at him, sitting up allowing the sheet to slide off your skin leaving you bare in the chilled air. Neither of you react to it as you gather your hair to put it in a butterfly clip.
“I’ll give him your number then?” His smirk is still there as he rolls his eyes at you.
“You better.” Climbing out of bed you throw on your bra and sweater, sweat pants then glasses.  “Honestly though, if your source is as creditable as you say then not only does she have an 80% chance of staying, but she’s also single. And by what your friend has said, it sounds like she’s still in love with you too.”
He hesitates, “What if I ask her to stay… What if I tell her I still love her and she leaves again?”
“You would have done all you can, it’ll still hurt. But this time you’ll know there was no saving it.” You sigh, you don’t have all the answers he wants to hear. You can’t tell him she’ll stay and they’ll live happily ever after. 
They were both pursuing their careers, and unfortunately that took them away from eachother. But if it has brought her back and she can still grow here, with him…it would be worth the risk, in your opinion. 
You watch him pull his shirt over his head, covering his abs. Standing to the side as he grabs his shoes from where he discarded them on his hasty entrance, he sits on your bed to put them on.
He catches at you staring intently at him. 
“What? You want another round?” His stupid smirk and bunny teeth on full display as he cocks his head towards you. 
“Like you could manage.” You taunt.
“Maybe not after the last two, but I’m sure I could get you there atleast once more before I go.” His cockiness really knows no bounds sometimes. His face may scream innocence, but his sex drive and dirty mouth completely shatter that image. He saunters towards you in an overly sexualized way, making it more comical than if he was actually trying.
“Get out Jeon. We’ve spent too much time together this week, you’re starting to irk me.” You shove him towards your front door, genuine laugh coming from him as he lets you lead him out. 
“Yea yea. Like anyone could stand being with you any longer.” Sarcasm rolling off his lewd tongue, as you reach the door.
“Hey! I am a ball of sunshine. I’ll have you know people love my company!” You play up the hurt in your tone. You both knew you preferred being by yourself then with most company. It was a personality flaw you came to appreciate about yourself.
“Who exactly?” He mocks openly. “Drama characters don’t count.” 
“....…. Go!” You bark. No serious anger in your voice. 
“Bye bye” he scoots out your door, closing it behind him. You lock it, mind already going 100 miles an hour. You’d help him not loose this chance. Not again. 
---------
Heels clacking against the cement slabs beneath you, the fragrant bouquet increasing your determination every step. Dressed presentably in a nice dress, long coat to give an air of ease, you didn’t want to over dress but then again you didn’t want to show up in sweats. Today would be an important day.
The light breeze feels like it’s pushing you forward. You know exactly where to go, you’ve done your sleuthing from his friends. If he thought you would let this go he was sorely mistaken. You’d never let him pass up this opportunity, after all this time. Never forgetting, never willing to let go. 
Regardless, you weren't’ the type of person who sat by idly while your friend didn’t let himself an attempt at true happiness. 
Marching into the hotel lobby, you don’t slow your pace. Heading straight to the elevator and pushing the button for floor 12. You smile to yourself in the reflection of the mirrored walls. You had a good feeling about this. 
The chime brings you back and you step out onto the carpet, down the long hallway and stopping in front of room 1212.
Rolling your shoulders back you reach out and knock on the door. 
“Delivery!” You call pleasantly.
You hear a sweet voice through the door answer back, “coming!”
Shuffling comes through the wood before the door opens, “Yes?” 
“Special delivery from one Euphoria florists.” You hold out the bouquet of specially chosen flowers. You can see the look fash behind her eyes, the recognition of the name. A past she hadn’t forgotten, regret she still felt.
“There all-” Her voice trails off absently as she take them from you, examining each bulb and leaf.
“Your favourites Miss. This is a custom order for you, along with this card.” The astonishment in her eyes is not lost on you. Nonetheless you hold out the envelope patiently waiting for her to be ready to take it. When she comes back to herself she gently but hastily takes it from you.
“Oh, I’m sorry! Thank you Miss-?” An open ended question. One that you deemed unimportant for right now.
“Don’t worry about it.” You smile even brighter at her, taking a step back you take a step to leave, but you can’t help yourself. 
“Yuri?” You say her first name, you can see the surprise ripple through her. “He named it after you, Euphoria.”
“Who are you?” Her gentle voice taken over by a slight tremor. Panic or excitement, you weren’t too sure. 
“A friend.” 
She takes a moment to stare at the bouquet in her hands, slowly a small careful smile appears. That’s the one you were hoping for.
“Thank you.” She offers you a hopeful smile, her eyes now looking watery from the pooling tears.
You wave to her as you retreat down the hallway back towards the elevators. 
He was either going to grovel at your feet in thanks or you were going to get your ass kicked for the rest of eternity. Meh, you could take Jeon if necessary. 
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legaciestold · 6 months ago
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@everythingheard​ (for bruce from rachel)
it had been so much easier to see things in absolutes before aliens rained from the sky and the man she had thought she loved turned upon everything he stood for and been consumed with villainy. locked in a jail cell among the very people he’d put inside. she had been so idealistic and young when bruce had returned, so sure of right and wrong and the need to live in the light. she couldn’t reconcile the boy she’d run around the manor with with the dark knight that had drug his sister into a life in the shadows. (though, even rachel at her core could admit there was no talking kara into anything, she’d made her own choice and that choice just so happened to line up with her brother’s path.) with the man who’d become hardened and brutal in his quest to strike fear into the city’s underbelly. fear. fear couldn’t solve the cities’ problems. but harvey’s quest, standing up to criminals in the light of day, had purpose, had potential. she had immersed herself within it and existed behind a vault of blindness. not that she still did not believe in the quest, but, her eyes had been awoken to a very many shades of grey since those days. 
zod had attacked their world and powered people escaped the shadows. jokers reigned terror and bruce had led gotham through floods. him and kara had become symbols not of fear but of hope and rachel had seen what she had not allowed herself to before. bruce had evolved, grown, but the bruce that tugged on her hair to get her attention when they were young was still a part of him. she could see it in his quest to repair his family’s name. in the way he took dick grayson in as his own. in his conviction to aid in reforms at arkham and help rehabilitate those who resided within it’s walls. yes a part of him could be brutal but he still held hope for those he fought. she could see it in the way that he worried about a sister who proved fully capable of protecting herself. she could see it in the way he had sat at alfred's side in the hospital after the explosion. and now, in the wake of harvey’s trial and superman’s death with forces beyond their comprehension just past the horizon rachel finally comes to him at the manor, sharing a look with alfred before she’s making her way to the room bruce is in. alfred had told her when bruce, dick, and kara had returned from superman’s funeral. 
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this world was not the one they’d grown up in and it’s a wonder how anyone was coping in the wake of what had transpired in metropolis. footfalls echo throughout the room, rachel coming to a stop just inside the doorway before shutting the door. all their moments in recent history have been so fully charged with chaos and tension, with her in danger from an alien battle or flooding waters, with two friends sitting in a hospital with alfred’s life in the balance, with her kidnapped and strapped to a bomb that kara had very nearly failed to protect her from that they’ve never had time to truly sort out where they stood. maybe she hadn’t been ready yet. she was now. yet what that would look like she wasn’t sure. 
“i want you to teach me to fight. self-defense.” she begins, unsure why that’s the first item on the agenda she broches. “not that it’ll help me if we have another alien invasion. god, i still can’t believe i’m even saying that. aliens. metahumans. and now superman’s gone.” there’s a pause as she allows the weight of that statement to linger. she hadn’t known superman but rachel had always been close with kara and she knew the impact his death had on her, and, she knew bruce felt the loss too. 
“--but if i’m going to be the new district attorney and connected to bruce wayne i think i ought to be able to at least prevent my own kidnapping.” she never wants to feel as powerless as she felt when crane had drugged her or when she’d been in that warehouse with bombs around her again. another step is taken forward, followed by another until she’s nearly reached him-- standing just a mere foot away from him. they haven’t spent any significant time together in so long, haven’t been this close to each other even when he’d used his limo to save her from press after harvey’s sentencing because lex had been there with him too. 
a part of her wants to reach out though she doesn’t, not yet. maybe she’s waiting for him to meet her half-way. for them, in the wake of everything, to make this choice together. “of course, that’ll mean i’ll be spending a fair amount of my free time here, with you, when you’re not out there.” she motions outside the window. there’s a weight to what she says, words unspoken between the lines but implication clear. she’s taking the first step, making a choice to accept being in his life again and all that entailed.
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halorocks1214 · 2 years ago
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an uphill climb (i'm feeling sorry)
Fandom: Double Life SMP, set in Hermitcraft
Pairing: Grian and Scar can be seen as either Desert Duo or Scarian
AO3 Link in a self-reblog
Word Count: 4528
“What? What else did I do?” Grian seemed genuinely panicked.
Oi, Scar was starting to see what dealing with himself must be like. Seeing someone disregard their personal safety like an oblivious buffoon was hard to watch, “Dude, you seriously don’t see anything wrong with you using your wings like a disposable shield? How would you feel if Jimmy did something like that, or if Pearl used her moth wings in the same way?”
As per every death game they've been in, bad habits have been formed out of temporary necessity for suvival. It'll be a little tougher to break them when the animosity levels are the highest they've ever been, but at the end of the day, it was the two of them. That had always been more than enough.
Breathing in the air of the Hermitcraft server, Scar felt at home.
He knew there was going to be a lot of work with readjusting from the death game, but after you had already been in two of them, learning the flow recovery gets easier. He had heard Xisuma was in contact with another distant player—Scar thought he heard the name Pixels or something?—alongside Doc to see if they could figure out what kept dragging their poor servermates away from them. No shade to their incredible skills, but it was obvious that they hadn’t found any solution yet.
In due time, though, in due time. Hopefully, “third time’s the charm” would come into play and they wouldn’t awaken in the middle of a random field scared out of their wits again. Man, the bonds of the souls and the Warden guarding the enchantment table… Scar shuddered to think about it. He wasn’t sure if those factors made this go-around better or worse.
But! He was back on a safe server, so for right now, he could chill. He should probably check up on Mumbo. The poor guy had to be freaking out, especially after he personally got to see what the games were like the second time around. Gem had already been chirping up a storm in chat about Impulse and Pearl being back, and he was pretty sure that it was Zed that zoomed through the air above him on his way to Tango’s place a few minutes ago.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps crunching in the grass and zombies being slaughtered was heard in the distance. It sounded like it was coming from Grian’s place even. After a brief moment of his anxiety levels shooting up, Scar had the idea to go say hi to his friend. Sure, they weren’t on the best of terms this time (if they ever were, really), but it wasn’t as bad as the second go around!
It was starting to dawn on Scar that the second game might just hold the title for “Worst Experience One Could Ever Go Through” for a long time.
Walking over to the edge of the hill, Scar opened his mouth to call out to Grian but paused at the sight of something—not horrific exactly, but heartstopping nonetheless.
Grian’s wings were around his body completely and were being clawed at by the zombies. The zombies would get a few swipes in, sometimes even hit Grian, and then Grian would retaliate by opening them up slightly to swipe at the mobs to kill them. Oh jeez, there was even a skeleton in the vicinity! Scar let out a wince as an arrow barely grazed Grian’s fragile limbs.
Pulling out his own bow and rushing over, Scar was at a loss for words. What in the world was Grian doing?! His wings were delicate, even the most minor of injuries could wreck them! The two of them might not be buddy-buddy right now, but Scar knew when to be an upstanding person and do the right thing! Especially when the cause of said thing was being monumentally stupid!
Nailing the skeleton before he stopped running, Scar managed to get right in front of Grian right as the rest of the zombies died. When the noise of violence withered away, Grian brought his wings down and blinked at Scar, “Oh, hey. Didn’t realize you were over here.”
… Really?
Grian was blatantly putting his wings in harm’s way, and that was all he would say about it?
Wait, Scar needed to pause. Grian was a sneaky fellow; if Scar got angry and up in his face, he would definitely and effortlessly find a way to get Scar to drop the subject. Despite what people may say (Grian included), Scar was not one person that owned a silver tongue in their partnership. Scar needed to be careful about how he approached this. Maybe he didn’t even need to raise the alarm bells.
“J-Just dropping by to make sure you’re okay,” Scar semi-bluffed. “It’s always a rough trip getting back, you know? Had to see you were in one piece.”
Grian nodded, depositing his weapon into his inventory, “Fair enough. I’m a little nauseous, but otherwise unharmed. Don’t think any portal complications will arise.”
Ah, so Grian was in a daze of sorts. Not particularly responsible, but not a crime. He probably would be back in tip-top shape after getting a good day’s rest. Scar would write this day off as a fluke, “That’s good to hear! Be sure to be careful, though, would hate for random mobs to get the drop on ya’.”
Grian paused at that like he could smell the suspicion from a mile away, before rolling his eyes and heading back to his base, “Gonna be hard not to be after what just happened.”
Not untrue, Scar thought to himself, “Of course.”
Then he was left alone once more, left to ponder the events he just witnessed. Okay, recap everything in order. They just got back from their latest death game romp, Scar was on his way over to check up on Mumbo, saw Grian out of the corner of his eye in the middle of combat, watched his friend’s wings get injured, and then he helped Grian fight the rest of the mobs and had their little conversation. Grian mentioned being a little tired, which most likely explained the lack of care he normally had around his wings.
Pretty straightforward, Scar surmised. He couldn’t be too mad about their interaction when he originally expected it to be lowkey hostile for other reasons. Worse, he honestly expected to be shunned and disregarded by Grian like he was in the game. With all that out of the way, Scar figured he could let it go and relax a little.
---
Except it happened again.
Scar was out at his farm gathering crops to make into more sustainable food when he saw Grian flying in over ahead. With a hand on his brow, blocking out the rays of the sun, Scar squinted at his buddy as Grian landed outside the giant rock-thing, stretching his wings after what seemed like a long flight. Scar opened his mouth to yell hello but quickly changed his tune at the sight of a skeleton hiding away in an unlit side of the rock. “GRIAN! WATCH OUT!”
Grian jumped at the sudden and panicked voice, the sound of a bowstring being pulled registering in his ears. As he turned, he also noticed the skeleton but knew he would not be fast enough to properly dodge the arrow heading his way. This time, Grian would not be able to get out of there with just a graze.
Scar gasped as Grian brought his wing up again, the limb tanking the projectile without a care in the world. Then, leaping into action, Grian slashed the skeleton, killing the mob in two hits. Scar took this time to run over, and by the time he was next to Grian, Grian was already hastily trying to pull the arrow out.
“Grian, calm down,” Scar soothed, holding his hands up like he was placating a frightened animal. “You know as well as I do that could just make it worse.”
Grumbling, Grian remembered to take a deep breath and to break the arrow into two pieces. Now he was able to slide the stick out without resistance, though, the way he was aggressively biting his lip probably didn’t help his pain levels. Scar couldn’t help but tense in sympathy.
Grian was breathing heavily, one half of the now-broken arrow clenched in his fist as the other half lay on the ground at their feet, “Thank you for your help. I can handle the rest from here.”
“What?” Scar had to be losing his mind. “Don’t you want a little help? Your wing is injured, and you’ve mentioned how it’s a little more difficult to reach hard-to-reach places when you’re by yourself.”
Grian finally dropped the other half, kicking the pieces of the broken projectile away, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve done it plenty of times by myself, both a long time ago and quite recently.”
There was the hostility Scar was worried about last time, “Grian, you just had an arrow sticking out of one of your wings. Maybe we aren’t on the best terms, but I’m right here and have helped before-”
In disagreement with that, Grian actually attempted flying away, to which he only got about a foot off the ground before remembering that he had a giant injury on one of his wings making him cry out in pain. He managed to land on his feet but tripped just enough to almost fall over. Thankfully, Scar was right there to prevent his stumble from becoming that. He then, for some reason, fluttered his wings, wincing at the pain that was still there, somehow perplexed at the fact that his injury didn’t stop hurting just because he wanted it to.
“Grian,” Scar chastised. This was past the point of playing nice; Grian was being actively dangerous about this and Scar would not stand for it. “Can the basic fact that you need to keep your wings intact outweigh your annoyance with our relationship right now for five godsdamn minutes before you ruin the limbs like you did that other thing?”
A brief flash of hurt placed itself on Grian’s face, making Scar pause and let go of his friend in shock at his own words. Before he could rectify what he said, Grian was already skedaddling away into his base to work on his injury the way he wanted to: by himself. Which was the exact opposite of what Scar wanted to achieve.
Well, shit, that went spectacularly. Scar would probably need to apologize at some point, if only to get rid of his guilt, but right now, Scar wanted to do something else first. Namely, put together the last few minutes to figure out what in the world is happening.
Why did Grian react so aggressively to Scar’s presence this time? He had already known Scar was aware of this “habit” of his, he saw Scar after doing it that one day! Unless…
Unless he didn’t actually.
It hit Scar that maybe because Grian’s wings were up and covering his line of sight, Grian couldn’t have seen Scar. That, coupled with the genuine feeling of exhaustion he was having, he could have easily bought Scar’s lie and not thought twice about it. Now that he has concrete proof of Scar’s awareness, he can’t fiddle his way into a convincing excuse.
Oh yes, something was definitely up. But that just brought back Scar’s worry about why he was doing this in the first place. What could convince Grian to casually hurt his wings in such a way? He was still aware that just one meticulously placed injury could ruin his chances of flying forever, correct?
A meow came from his feet, and Scar slightly relaxed at the feeling of fur brushing against his right leg. Bending over, he picked up his beloved cat who must have found her way over here to say hi into his arms, and petted the back of her ears, “Oh man, we’re really in it now, Jellie.”
---
Scar ended up apologizing in a very unconventional way.
Also not intentionally, but hey, two birds and a stone or whatever.
Not that Grian was one of the birds! Quite the opposite, actually. Scar was ironically one of the birds this time.
Scar had been letting a creeper trail after him as part of a prank on Doc when Grian’s voice sounded in the air, making Scar lose focus on the mob so he could physically watch Grian swoop in. Could you blame him? He was thinking he was hallucinating at first.
However, Grian landed close enough so that when the creeper started hissing, both men’s eyes widened at the realization of their combined mistakes. Scar noticed that Grian was lifting his wings to shield like it was second nature to him, and Scar responded by doing something that was very much not second nature to himself: proactively dodging something trying to cause him harm.
Tackling Grian to the ground, the creeper was loud as it exploded against his back, singing his hair and clothing. Thankfully, Scar managed to get enough distance to make it only a light burn of sorts, but that didn’t change the fact that it hurt. Or that it must have looked spooky enough to get Grian into his Mother Hen phase once more.
“Scar!” Grian’s voice was barely heard over the ringing in his ears. “Scar, say something for the love of gods. This isn’t funny, you can’t- I can’t handle doing this to you again, so please-”
Well, some of Scar’s questions were being answered, but not all of them.
Sitting up, Scar firmly but gently shoved a hand over Grian’s mouth, leaving him enough room to breathe through his nose, “Gri, breathe in for four seconds.”
Grian didn’t blink, he was too frazzled for that, but he did freeze before following through on Scar’s demand. Once that step was done, Scar let his face go to let him breathe out through his mouth. Then he was calm enough to finish the breathing practice himself, and once that was done, Grian stood up and offered Scar a hand to use as help. Honestly, Scar only took it because he was so out of the loop of everything that just happened and how quickly it felt like it occurred.
It could also be because the ringing in his ears still had yet to fully go away, but Scar digressed.
Once he was standing up, both Scar and Grian nervously fidgeted in silence, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t too long before they spoke at the same time, perfectly in tandem. Scar was slightly first, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sor- wait, what?” Grian’s brain record scratched in real-time. “Okay, hang on, I think we need to back up a few steps. What are you apologizing for?”
Scar let out a huff, “For what I said that one day about ‘ruining our relationship.’ That was uncalled for. Even if we need to discuss some of our, er, current and previous actions, I don’t need to do it during a distressing moment that was already making you feel bad.”
Grian blinked a few times before shaking his head, “No, you-” Grian took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. “Apology accepted, I guess, but just because your timing was poor doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. I haven’t been the best toward you, this past week and during those death games. I’m just sorry it took me throwing a tantrum to realize it.”
Scar felt a small, sad smile spread on his face, “For what it’s worth, apology accepted too.” A pause for dramatic effect, “But only if you explain exactly what it is you’re apologizing for as well.”
Grian flinched a little, “No, that’s fair. Scar, I’m sorry for leaving you in the dust and brushing you off so much recently. You’ve just been trying to be a good friend and I’ve taken advantage of that, which isn’t fair.”
Er, not what Scar was going for, “Okay, I appreciate you acknowledging that, but that wasn’t what I was necessarily thinking about.”
“What? What else did I do?” Grian seemed genuinely panicked.
Oi, Scar was starting to see what dealing with himself must be like. Seeing someone disregard their personal safety like an oblivious buffoon was hard to watch, “Dude, you seriously don’t see anything wrong with you using your wings like a disposable shield? How would you feel if Jimmy did something like that, or if Pearl used her moth wings in the same way?”
Grian became purely offended by the mere notion of that, “That would be terrible! Pearl especially, if those caught on fire or exploded they might disintegrate complete-”
Scar grabbed his hands to shut him up, “Then what makes you different?”
Grian’s mouth was slightly open in disbelief, his uvula flexing as he struggled to come up with what to say. Eventually, he swallowed the spit in his mouth and downturned his head to stare at their feet, “... I don’t think I’m different. I know it’s not good for me.”
Scar scoffed, “No offense, but it’s hard to think that when you were just about to use them to tank a creeper blast with them.”
“I didn’t have any other choice during the game!” Grian blurted out before yanking his hands back and covering his mouth.
It was too late, though. Scar heard what he said and the emotions it created were not pretty, “What? Grian, did someone force you to injure your wings for something? Who was it? Don’t tell me it was another Hermit, I thought we were all better than that-”
Grian grabbed Scar’s shoulders, making him turn back to give Grian eye contact as Grian explained, “Scar, answer this question: you don’t have wings, right?”
… “I’m pretty sure I don’t?”
“Yes, you don’t, but I do,” Grian continued, squeezing his shoulders for emphasis. “In the last game, we shared our pain. All of our injuries, big and small, transferred to the player we were bonded to.”
Scar still wasn’t sure where this was going, but he nodded instead of verbally responding.
Grian mirrored his nods, “Then think about it this way: what do you think might happen if a limb I had you didn’t have got hurt or injured? Do you think the pain would find a way to transfer itself or would the bond just glitch out and you wouldn’t feel anything? And if the latter were true, then when we were separated a lot, you wouldn’t have to worry about feeling my scrapes all the time, yeah?”
It hit Scar like he flew straight into a brick wall with his elytra.
“Oh gods. Oh gods,” he leaned forward to grip Grian’s shoulders himself, albeit way more tightly. He felt like throwing up. What did he do? Be petty and hurt Grian by standing in snow because he felt neglected while Grian was actively putting one of his most prized possessions in harm's way for Scar’s sake? Seriously, what was Grian achieving for himself by getting his wings scratched and torn? Nothing, and that made Scar the absolute worst-
“-ar, Scar breathe,” Grian’s voice broke through Scar’s haze of panic. A shaky exhale escaped Scar’s lips as he reluctantly found it in himself to come back down to reality. Oh, Grian was still speaking, “Scar, everything I did in that world was by my own choice. You don’t need to feel bad, you shouldn’t feel bad. Like I said, I knew it was bad for them, but I did it anyway, and now I’m reaping the consequences.” Grian brought his hands back to himself to mess with the end of his jumper, “I mentioned that it’s sometimes hard to think we’re really back in our safer servers, so I guess I still feel the need to ‘protect’ y- us the same way I did in the other server.”
Scar caught that stutter, but inferred that he should not say anything about it, “That doesn’t make me feel better. What if something irreversible happened to them? That would have happened because you were doing something for me. We were upset with each other so much that we didn’t want to be near one another and yet you still protected me in your own way.”
Grian grimaced, unsure of how he can make this better before a lightbulb moment hit him, “Well, I haven’t preened them in a long time. And you’re conveniently right next to me.”
Scar took that a little too literally, “I don’t think cleaning them next to a creeper hole is a good idea.”
“No, we’d go to one of our bases first,” Grian laughed, happy to see Scar still being Scar.
Ah, that made way more sense, “Riiight. I’m guessing it’s off to your place?”
Grian hummed, “Actually, I think yours would work better.”
Scar was surprised at that but quickly got over it as the two of them flew to that destination. Grian tended to get his wings preened by just about any of the Hermits, but after their first journey into the death games, he found himself gravitating toward Scar more. He wasn’t sure if it was because of muscle memory or because no one else felt right anymore.
Getting inside Scar’s base, Grian found the nearest rug and flopped onto his knees, moving to sit cross-cross afterward. Scar jumped at the large noise the initial impact made, “Jeez, Gri, calm down a little. We’ve had enough unnecessary injuries on your body recently.”
Scar tossed a pillow at him, nailing him in the back of the head. Grian rubbed the static from his hair, bringing the cushion to hug at his chest, “Well, hurry up, and then we don’t need to worry about it anymore.”
Scar didn’t need to be told twice. Sitting behind Grian, he got to work brushing through the limbs and bringing them back to their clean glory. He flinched a little every time at the sight of a new scar in between all the feathers (he wasn’t there to help he wasn’t there-), but when it got to be too much, he noticed one of Grian’s hands over Grian’s shoulders, waiting for it to be grabbed. Without thinking, Scar did so, bringing back a familiar memory in the process. He let it wash over him when he went back to using both hands to preen Grian.
“Scar, I know you’re in here,” Grian called from the doorway. Scar made sure to stay absolutely still. He was already so big; any movement would probably give away his location.
Which didn’t matter when Grian left the door open as he walked in, offending Scar so much that he just had to shoot up from his hiding spot and yell at him for it, “Grian! What did I say about leaving the doors open? It’ll let all the hot desert… air in…”
Grian’s smug face said he knew exactly that was what would happen. Now he turned back to shut the door, leaving Scar flabbergasted in the middle of the room, “With that out of the way, how’s about we get back to what we were doing?”
Scar gained enough of his bearings to shake his head, “Scott should probably be the one to do it now. Jimmy and I can’t, we’re too…” Dangerous was such an easy word to say, and yet Scar found it hard to do so for some reason.
They were in the middle of Grian’s weekly preening session. Scar was in charge of helping him out due to their partnership. (It would be rather difficult for Grian to work for Scar when his wings were in disarray after all.) However, that one time, Scar was having an off day—Dogwarts sent a message to him requesting to meet, and he wasn’t sure if it was a trap or a genuine attempt to connect—not focusing all too well. Before he could help it, his (gray and so very large) hands accidentally yanked a few feathers out instead of just readjusting them.
Nothing permanently damaging, but enough to make Grian wince so loud it was almost a cry, sending a pang of regret and guilt through Scar’s chest. He quickly excused himself, ignoring Grian telling him to stop, and went to hide out in their main building. He assumed Grian would just go to someone else to finish the job. He honestly even hoped, Grian keeping his wings clean was important. Clearly, he was wrong about that.
“Scar, do you think you’re the only one that has ever gone a little too hard in cleaning my wings? I’ve almost forced Mumbo to wear oven mitts sometimes, you know,” Grian teased, making Scar turn bashfully away. “Besides, we’ve been putting off preening them this week, so the sooner we get it done the better. Wasting time making it over to Scott would be kind of dumb.”
Darn, he made a fair point. Scar sighed, watching Grian sit on the edge of one of the beds, “Alright, I suppose that’s fair.”
For the rest of the preening session, any time Scar’s hands shook in uncertainty, Grian reached behind him from over his shoulder to let Scar grip that until the shakes went away.
“Scar?” Grian’s voice broke through his memories. “Are you okay?”
Blinking, Scar was abruptly aware of the wetness on his cheeks. Shit, when did he start doing that? He was getting it all over Grian’s feathers too. “I think I got everything.” At least he finished the job before completely losing it. He tried turning away, aggressively wiping his face to get rid of any evidence, but it was futile. Grian was already moving around to be able to drape a wing across his shoulders in silent comfort, Grian’s own eyes misting slightly as well.
Scar sniffled, “How did we let it get so bad between us?”
“I don’t know,” Grian let out a quiet, wet laugh. “I’m pretty sure someone could make an entire theater play based around our relationship, though.”
Scar giggled, his tears finally slowing down, “I’m sure Wels would love to tap into that.” Leaning his head over, Scar rested it against Grian’s shoulder, “Isn’t he into that sort of Greek tragedy-esque-type stuff?”
Grian made no move to push Scar off. In fact, he just wrapped his wing tighter around Scar, taking the opportunity to place his cheek on the top of Scar’s head, “You say that like Joe isn’t right there.”
Scar managed to face palm despite the position he was in making it hard to do so, “Oh man, what am I saying? Thank gods you’re there to keep me on track.”
Grian let a grin tug at his lips, “Thank gods indeed.”
Then it was just them, sitting in the quiet like they did so often on Monopoly Mountain. There was no need to fill the air with mindless talking. They didn’t need to prove anything to each other more than they already had. The only thing that would break it was one of them coming up with an idea, just like Scar had and was going to say right now.
“Hey, Gri?”
A beat of silence, “Yeah?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m kinda pooped. Wanna make a bed and put it next to mine for old time’s sake?”
Another beat of silence, one that was slightly more optimistic, “Yeah, I think I would love that actually. How else can I annoyingly kick you for taking up too much space?”
“Hey, watch it. I can force you to sleep in the cacti again if you’re not careful.”
Scar never actually made Grian follow through with that the first time he threatened it. This time was just as empty. It was obvious that it would stay that way for a long, long time.
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staticscreenwriting · 3 years ago
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HOME // Bucky Barnes
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Request: Could you do a Bucky Barnes imagine where he blips but the reader is pregnant so when he comes back he meets their daughter? If not that’s totally understandable and I hope you have an amazing day/night 💕
A/N: Look, I love writing angsty Bucky. But I also love writing happy Bucky. Hope y’all love reading this ♥  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.
Join my taglist here! [additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]
Thanos being defeated was not the end of it all. It seemed like it. The grand heroic solution to all problems. The ultimate test before things got better. Before they got easier.
That was a lie.
Bucky looks across the vast area of the Stark’s estate as people, all dressed in black, mourn the loss of a dear friend, an idol, a husband, a father.
That word sends a wave of anxiety and fear through him. He knows he can’t run forever and really, he doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t know how to deal with — everything. How to be the man he needs to be. How to step up and not fuck this up.
Sometimes fear makes you do stupid things, really stupid things. Like avoiding the love of your life because you are too afraid of what she might think of you.
His eyes find (Y/N) as she leans against a tree, lips pulled into a sad smile as Sam rambles about one thing or another next to her. This isn’t right. Sam shouldn’t be the one cheering her up and trying to get her to smile. It should be him. If only he wasn’t such a coward.
People don’t talk about these things though. They only talk about those that had been gone now being back again. They talk about the joy of being reunited but not the fears, the sadness, the disappointment — and they sure as hell don’t talk about the guilt.
The guilt of coming back after 5 years to find out you missed so many important moments in the life of a child you never knew you had.
His eyes wander down towards the little girl holding on tightly to her mother’s hand. She has his eyes, his dark hair, his lips. She’s a spitting image of his younger sister. A Barnes through and trough.
Every time he looks at her his heart beats out of his chest in a way he’s never felt before. When they say that the love for your own child is an instant emotion, they are not wrong or exaggerating.
The moment he came back from oblivion and first laid eyes on her, it felt like his heart had known her all his life. He wanted to hold her and shelter her from all the bad things the world might throw her way. Wanted to kiss her little nose and read her stories and sing her silly little songs. He hated singing but for her, he wanted to do it. Just because that’s what dads do.
But fear is one hell of an emotion and above all, it’s terribly convincing.
He’d never had a particularly good example of a father. It was different times then. Different ways of raising your child. Fathers weren’t meant to show affection, they were meant to enforce rules and order. How could he ever be good at this? He doesn’t have a single clue how to do any of this.
And then there’s the fact that he’s left (Y/N) alone to deal with all of this. Every first has been forever taken from him. First breath, first cry, first word, first steps. Every little thing.
Would she resent him for it? For not being there when it mattered?
So he ran. He came back and he ran.
She doesn’t deserve this and neither does (Y/N). They deserve so much better.
“ It’s time Buck. “ Steve speaks up as he leans against the porch railing next to his oldest friend.
“ Are you still sure about this? “ Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off of his girls. His stomach feels like he’s swallowed a bag of bricks. Life was supposed to be easier after Thanos. This isn’t easy. This is just scary. And sad.
“ That, “ Steve says and nods his head towards (Y/N) and the girl “ that’s your second chance. I gotta take mine. “
Bucky turns to look at his friend trying to figure out what to say next but coming up empty. What do you say to that? Steve deserves to be happy. He deserves to be where his heart always has been. Does it mean Bucky thinks it’s the right choice? Not necessarily. But he understands. Had it been him and (Y/N) he would’ve crossed time and space to be with her.
Which is ironic to think because now all he does is avoid her. Because that’s the coward he is.
“ Alright let’s go. I’ll grab Bruce you do — whatever you gotta do. “
He dares to send one last look towards (Y/N) and this time she’s looking back with a soft eye and a timid little smile on her lips. None of which he is deserving of.
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Steve let's go of Sam, parting with one last friendly slap on the back before turning towards Bucky.
Bucky's throat feels dry and rough and while his head is swirling with words he wants to say, none of them really make it past his lips. He's known about Steve's idea for a few days now, has had time to let it settle and come to terms with it. It still breaks his heart but sometimes that's what you do for the people you love. You support them on their path to happiness even if it hurts you in the process.
"I'll miss you," Bucky finally manages to say and he wraps his arm around his friend's shoulder. "You'll always be my brother."
"I know. I'll miss you too. But I know you're in good hands." Steve responds and lets his gaze wander towards the house, no doubt talking about (Y/N) and the kid.
"Promise me something, Buck." He says as he pulls away.
"Anything."
"Talk to (Y/N) and get to know your daughter. She's a Barnes through and through. And she loves you so much, they both do. Let them. Love 'em back."
"Kid doesn't even know me," Bucky murmurs, nervously glancing at the floor.
"What? You really think that? Buck, all we did for the last 5 years was try to keep your memory alive. For us but especially for her. We showed her pictures and videos and (Y/N) told her so many stories. She knows you and she loves you and for the first time in her life, she's living in a world where her dad is alive and present. Go, be with them. You guys need each other."
He's right. Of course, he's right. Steve has this fantastic ability to be right when it matters.
“And don’t do anything stupid until I get back!” Steve adds, making a small smile appear on Bucky’s face.
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you. “
They embrace each other one last time before Bucky whispers another “I’ll miss you” and Steve tells him that “It’ll be okay, Buck”.
And then everything happens so fast. One moment he’s living in a world where his best friend is by his side and a minute later all of that has forever changed.
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Bucky wipes his eyes with the back of his hand one last time before looking at himself in the mirror. He knew this moment was coming, Steve told him. He had time to come to terms with it and yet it’s a completely different situation now that it’s done. Parting with the only family you’ve ever known breaks your heart in ways you’ve never known are possible.
As he steps out of the bathroom something solid crashes against him and as he looks down, a pair of identical blue eyes stare back at him. He’s not been this close to her since he found out about her, keeping her at a distance. To protect her.
His arm was made to kill how could it ever hold a child and keep it safe?
She stares at him for a moment before a small “Hi” falls from her lips. It’s shy and timid and adorable and all Bucky wants to do is cuddle her to his chest and never let her go.
He doesn’t get the chance though as another little girl rushes past them and calls out to his daughter to follow her which she does.
“Who is that?” Bucky hears Morgan question.
“That’s my daddy, but I don’t think he wants to see me. Mommy says he needs time but —“
He doesn’t hear the rest of her words as the girls round the corner and get swallowed by the sounds of the other guests still mulling around sharing stories about their fallen hero.
But it’s enough. He doesn’t need to hear more. Those words are enough to rip his heart out of his rib cage, crush it up into a million little pieces, and spread it in the winds, never to be able to be put together ever again.
“Hey have you seen — oh Bucky are you okay?”
He doesn’t deserve her tenderness, her kindness, and her care, and yet she still exudes the same love she’s always held for him. Love he was never deserving of from the beginning.
It doesn’t matter at that moment though, who deserves what and who doesn’t. He’s too caught up in the breaking of his own heart. So he falls into her arms as silent tears slowly but surely make their way down his cheeks.
“She thinks I don’t want to see her.”
“Who does?” (Y/N) says as she gently combs her fingers through his long hair.
“My own daughter. “
(Y/N) pulls away slightly, holding onto his shoulders and looking deep into his eyes.
“Are you ready to talk about this now? Ready to stop avoiding me ?”
Bucky only nods and lets her lead him outside past the guests and down to the lake where it’s quiet and serene and life seems to slow down a little. She keeps holding on to his hand, his vibranium one, as they settle on a bench facing each other.
“ I missed you, Bucky.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
He’s been told those words so many times and it’s still hard to believe in them. Even when he knows they’re true. There will always be a hint of doubt since him. Always.
“I don’t — I don’t want her to think I don’t love her. Or want to be with her. I do love her very much. More than I have ever loved another person, including you, and you are my everything. I’m just overwhelmed and — and scared.” He admits. It’s the first time he says those words to anyone but himself. It feels good. It feels right. But it doesn’t take the fear away or the guilt.
“James, she knows you love her. Not a day went by that I didn’t tell her how much her daddy loves her and wants to be with us. And it’s okay to be scared. I was scared and I only had to deal with a baby, not an opinionated 4-year-old. It’s okay to be scared but you can’t let the fear hold you back. You’re the bravest man I know. You laugh in the face of danger. What changed?”
“Stakes are higher this time. What’s losing my life compared to ruining my daughter’s?”
“You’re not gonna ruin anyone’s life, Buck.” (Y/N) exclaims and softly pets the side of his face. She’s always been so gentle with him. Such a contrast to the touches he was used to.
“I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. Mine wasn’t a very good example. I have been trained to kill, to cause pain. My arm is a weapon.”
“Your arm has shielded me from bullets and harm so many times. It’s held me close at night and wipes my tears when I was sad. Your arm is only a weapon if you use it like that. And all the other stuff, that’s not you anymore. You know this. “
He can see the treads now welling in her eyes too and it makes his heart twist and constrict in many painful ways.
“And I left you alone during all of it. Missed the last 4 years of her life and the entire pregnancy. How am I gonna make up for that, for leaving you alone?”
It feels like once he’s started talking he can’t stop. All his fears and worries flow from his lips like tidal waves in an ocean. Crashing against the shore of truth.
“You didn’t leave us Bucky. You were taken from us. We never blamed you for that. I know you wanted to be there. I never doubted that for a second. Look, I had 9 months to come to terms with my fears, you didn’t have any time to face them. I get why you are freaking out but uh — it’s time to step up. You know what makes a good dad? Being there when he can be. Showing he cares. Can you do that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I can.” Bucky promises and smiles a smile of content. One of hope. His fears and his guilt aren’t gone. But maybe if she believes in him and Steve does, maybe he can be the man and the father he needs to be.
“Good. We really do love you, Buck.”
“As in present tense?”
“Of course. We never stopped. Now can I ask one more thing of you?”
“What’s that?” In the end, it wouldn’t really matter. Whatever she asks he’ll do it. For her, he’ll do anything.
“Can you kiss me? I’ve been waiting for 5 years to finally kiss you again. I can’t hold out much longer. “
He grants her not one kiss, not two. In fact, he loses count as they get lost in many many loving kisses. Maybe, Bucky thinks, soulmates really are a thing. Maybe there are people on this earth meant to find each other. Meant to go through hardships together and still find their way back to one another in the end.
Whatever one chooses to believe in. Bucky is certain she is his person in this life and the next and through whatever might come their way.
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He’s sitting on the big red couch in (Y/N)’s apartment, nervously fumbling with the tassels on one of the throw pillows as his eyes wander around the room. There are so many pictures, hung on the walls and placed on side tables and shelves. His child’s entire life up to now, caught on film for him to relive if only in his mind.
There are pictures of him too. One of him and Steve in the 40s, laughing and leaning against each other in support. (Y/N) always said it was one of her favorites. “You’re so happy in it. That’s how happy I want you to be all the time.” She’s told him once.
Next to a picture of (Y/N) and their daughter is a picture of him. He’s sure it’s placed there deliberately. To remind everyone he is a part of this family, even when he wasn’t there.
He is here now though. The next picture put up will be one of all three of them.
The front door opens and a melody of voices echoes through the place. (Y/N)’s laughter and the sweet giggle of his little girl. It’s his favorite sound in the world, he decided then and there. Nothing will ever compare.
The girl rushes into the room then comes to an abrupt stop in front of him.
“Hi,” she says in the same small voice as she did at the Stark’s house. Only this time Bucky doesn’t just stand and stare at her, unable to move or speak.
This time he holds out his arms and speaks up.
“Hi, I — I'm sorry it has taken me so long. I don’t know what I was thinking. I love you, Darling. Can I hug you?”
She doesn’t say yes or no, doesn’t glance at his vibranium arm with hesitance of fear. She falls right into him, wrapping her little arms around his neck and cuddling into his chest. It feels like this is where she belongs, like this is where she was always meant to be. Like his arms were made to hold her and never let go. And maybe, Bucky thinks, maybe they were.
“I love you too, daddy.”
He liked being a sergeant. It’s a title that has always filled him with pride. It has nothing on the title of being a dad. That one means so much more. Fills him with a pride and love he’s never previously known.
For the next few moments, he gets lost in the feeling of holding his child. A perfect little girl who is part of him. The good. Only the good. It all comes together in her. No nightmares or guilt or fears. Only love. So much love. He holds her close to his heart, wishing he could’ve done this when she was just a baby. Feel her heart beat in rhythm with his. He places little kisses up and down her small face. On her chubby little cheeks and her cute bottom nose, making her scrunch it up and let out soft giggles.
It’s strange to be the man he is and act so gently with another human being. But it feels so right.
His eyes find (Y/N)’s across the room, filled with tears though this time they are happy ones. With an outreached hand he beckons her over and pulls her onto the couch and into the hug.
This is right. Nothing has ever felt this real. This happy. This perfect.
His girls cuddle into him with nothing but love filling their hearts. This is the life he wants, the one he has always wanted. The life he fought for. The life he will never stop fighting for.
Steve was wrong. They aren’t his second chance.
They’re his only chance.
His destiny.
His family.
His home.
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TAGLIST:  @stayherefor-evermore  - @booksb4looksstuff​ - @captainofallfandoms - @charmed-asylum​
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merakiui · 4 years ago
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Apricity
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yandere!albedo x (gender neutral) reader art credit - miHoYo cw: nsfw elements, yandere, captivity/restraints, unhealthy behaviors note - please come home to me and take care on the journey, albedo! :D also kindly heed the warnings. thank you!
His eyes are unnaturally pretty. Like twin crystals glittering in an expansive, dismal cave, searching for secrets unheard of within Mondstadt. Somehow you’re always in his peripheral, not too close and yet impossibly far at the same time. The distance is harrowing, terribly so, and Albedo knows it should be nothing short of a coincidence. When he shows up at your quaint stall with Sucrose, claiming to be in need of the exact wares you happen to sell, you pay it no mind. After all, you’ve met your fair share of regulars, and their support is what keeps you afloat. 
But there is more to those beautiful irises than he lets on. Whether it’s intentional or not, you can’t exactly say. You suppose you would rather run into someone as well-respected as Albedo as opposed to an unlikable stranger with ill intent. And it’s always great to see a familiar face, especially when he chooses to peruse your stall rather the others around you. It isn’t all that strange; you’ve even become friends with Sucrose during your short interactions. Albedo has indulged in stiff conversations with you before, but most of them were meaningless. Simple throwaway chatter between two acquaintances. 
Oddly enough, Albedo finds himself wanting more. He doesn’t want to talk about the weather or the transitioning seasons; he wants to listen to you explain how your day was and if you made more profit than the day before that. He wants to stand there and immerse himself in your pleasant voice, ignorant to the hustle and bustle of the people around him. And yet he just can’t. For a variety of reasons that pull him out of the haze of intrigue, you’ll always remain in the background. And he simply can’t bear the thought of that.
It’s rude to deteriorate a relationship that’s only just begun to blossom. If your meager acquaintanceship with him were to wither away into dust, he would feel obligated to keep it going—as if he were simply beating a dead cow with a stick. Although your hobbies differ from his, it’s nothing he can’t handle. A genius must familiarize himself with other areas of study if he intends to craft solutions that are outside of the box.
“Albedo?” 
Your tone is meek and small, tinged with the slightest shiver. Part of him feels bad for lying to you, but you were just so trusting. It’s almost comical how easily you fell into his trap. If he gets to see you in such a delicious way all the time, he’s more than willing to forsake the truth to meet his own desires. A selfish wish, yes, but it’s absolutely wonderful.
“What is it?” 
He eyes you from his spot behind the easel, and even though you can’t see him you can feel his piercing gaze. Like the sun shining brightly in a wintry afternoon, his eyes smolder with unbearable heat and yet his expression is cold with brilliant focus. 
“A-Are you almost done? It’s really cold.” Your bare back touches the wall and you flinch, an instinctual response that makes Albedo’s brow quirk. “And this is sort of...weird.”
“How so?” 
He says that in such a dismissive manner, acting as if your current position isn’t compromising. As if this was a normal exchange between friendly strangers. You have trouble finding your voice in this situation, especially since talking seems like such a chore. You’re worried you’ll say the wrong thing and then it’ll leave a false imprint of who you are on Albedo. But you’ve always been nice, unable to refuse those who are kind in return, and so you’re forced to endure the discomfort that comes with modeling nude for this peculiar alchemist. 
“Think about it.” You distract yourself with a ramble of an explanation—certainly more than what’s necessary, but Albedo doesn’t mind. He finds solace in your voice. “You’re looking at me and I’m...n-naked. And we don’t really know each other. I’m not trying to vilify you when I say this, but I don’t want you to do anything bad to me. N-Not that you would! It’s just—this is really weird. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Hm.”
“And do I have to be tied up like this?” You shuffle in your bindings, fingers scrabbling over the cuffs and chains that jingle like horrible sleigh bells. 
“You were moving too much earlier. I won’t be able to get your anatomy right if you’re constantly fidgeting.”
But it’s uncomfortable, you think, chewing on your lip out of habit.
“I guess I understand. It must be an artist thing, right?”
“You could say that.”
His work on the canvas offers a display that’s just as lewd as the real model, down to the way your nipples perk and harden in the cold. He’s not even close to finishing and that’s a blessing in itself. He could stare at your figure for hours on end, committing every inch of your flesh to memory, and he wouldn’t grow weary. 
“Do artists normally blindfold their models? I don’t really know anything about this stuff, but it’s okay if it helps with the process.”
“I find it to be interesting,” he answers, simple and vague as ever. “It adds a mysterious touch to the finished piece.”
“So you draw the model with the blindfold?” You’re used to gazing upon paintings of flowers and portraits of influential historical figures rather than blatant nudity. “Artists are definitely unique.”
Albedo hums in response, secretly reveling in your naïveté. At the end of the day, you’re just a normal citizen of Mondstadt, who stands behind a wooden stall every single day and happily chats with potential customers. You excel in business, but when it comes to the inner workings of art you’re at a loss. And that makes it all the more easier for Albedo to spin all sorts of wild tales. He fears that gullible nature will harm you in the future, yet there isn’t a threat in sight. Not when you’re here in front of him, no longer confined to his peripheral. And you’ll stay there for however long it takes him to finish this painting. 
It’s a twisted infatuation. Albedo knows he shouldn’t take too much of your time or else he’ll become addicted and it will be impossible to focus on his studies. But he can’t stop himself or his wandering gaze, which trails up your midriff. Higher and higher until he’s staring at your face, eyes obscured behind the soft fabric of a blindfold. Your body is a temple he wishes to worship, and perhaps that’s a sacrilegious thought that ought to have him consider the weight of his emotions. 
And yet you’re far too irresistible. His thoughts are dangerously potent, swirling within his brain like a maddening hurricane. Surely your missing presence in the market won’t be questioned if he were to keep you just a little longer. Longer than the boundaries of sanity will allow, that is. There are other vendors who sell the same things you boast; the economy won’t shatter if you’re not there to provide.
The paintbrush moves along the canvas in even strokes and suddenly Albedo’s mind is wandering between subjects. From art to alchemy, love to lust, and the wondrous crevices in your anatomy that call out to him. The brush stills in his hand. If he’s not mistaken, Sucrose will be stopping by to assist him and the last thing he needs is staining his appearance in a suspicious color. 
“Albedo?” His name rolls off of your tongue in such a delectable way; it’s almost sinful how his thoughts race and race in an endless track. “Are you almost done? My back is sore and the floor’s really uncomfortable.”
“Sorry. This will take longer than I thought.” He sets his brush and palette down, and you listen to his footsteps as they draw near. “Something has come up, but I promise I won’t be long.” 
“Wait. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I need to get back to the marketplace!”
Before you know what’s happening, the blindfold is coming off and you’re locking eyes with Albedo, who peers at you with intense scrutiny. Certainly the look of a genius studying a textbook. You grow flustered all at once, just now coming to terms with the fact that he looked at your body for longer than you’d like to admit. Shyly, you shut your legs to obscure your private parts, but it’s not like that will help the embarrassment that claws its way onto your expression like a persistent beast. 
“You’re better off waiting here.” He shrugs off his coat, draping it over your shoulders as if that’ll keep the dreadful chill away. “As much as I would like to finish this now, I have other work that must be taken care of.”
“I get that, but you can’t just leave me here! That’s practically kidnapping!” you protest, hoping he’ll heed the desperation in your trembling vocals. “At least, that’s what this feels like.”
“I wouldn’t kidnap you,” he says, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You’re too funny.”
Yet he isn’t laughing and neither are you as you helplessly watch him depart. The floor is too cold for your liking and the idea of entrapment settles under your skin like a million maggots feasting on a decaying, chilled copse. Devoid of warmth and carrying an air of measured grace, Albedo doesn’t spare you another glance.
He doesn’t need to. He’ll have all the time in the world to study your body like it’s the finest artwork, and you’ll be powerless to object.
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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years ago
Text
Pride
Dear nonnie who requested that I write something for Pride month, I'm so, so sorry! Somehow this got lost in my inbox and I didn't see it until I started working on 'Bargain' this afternoon. Please accept this humble ficlet and my deepest apologies. <3
I'm kind of nervous about this one. I know coming out is a deeply personal experience and I'm not sure I wrote it terribly well. Please know that you are loved, valued, cherished, and accepted just as you are. I know for many people the struggle is so much greater than what I wrote in this ficlet. You are all amazing. <3
cw: Internalized homophobia, homophobic parents (happy ending)
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June 12, 1999
"Hey!" Harry said, bursting into Draco's room like it was his own.
Draco looked up from the essay he was writing, the last one he needed to finish for his eighth year at Hogwarts. "Hi," he replied and he couldn't help but admire the dimple that stood out on Harry's cheek as he smiled at him.
"Some of us are heading down to Hogsmeade for the pride celebration they're having there tonight," Harry said. "Did you want to come?"
His brow furrowed, "Pride? Like house pride?"
Harry laughed but not unkindly like it would have been prior to this year, "No, like gay pride. It's to celebrate people who are lgbtq+, to affirm their dignity and worth as human beings, you know?"
Draco felt his cheeks flushing hot, "I'm not," he managed through the way it felt like someone had closed off his airway, shaking his head, "I'm not gay!"
"Err," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, "Right, I wasn't trying to imply anything. Just," he shrugged, "I think I'm bi, and there's GInny and Luna," he continued, stumbling over his words.
"But I'm not!" he protested
"Right," Harry repeated, brow furrowing, "We just thought..." he trailed off, "Ron, who's like as straight as they come is coming too, to show his support."
"I can't," Draco said. "I've got all this work to do, I just-"
"It's okay," Harry said, shaking his head and holding out a hand, "Totally fine, sorry to have bothered you," he added as he quickly fled the room before Draco could say anything else.
(Continue reading below the cut)
He stared after him, still feeling panicked and full of regret at the same time.
Malfoys aren't gay. Malfoys aren't gay. Malfoys aren't gay.
And in spite of the fact that he'd told Harry he needed to finish his essay, he spent the rest of the night trying to get his heart to slow down, his breathing to come easier, and his mind to stop spinning.
The essay remained untouched.
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June 9, 2000
Draco was having murderous thoughts.
They had a tradition on Fridays that everyone who lived in Grimmauld sat down together for dinner and if you were dating someone, you were allowed to bring them home with you for dinner. Draco never brought anyone home because the women he dated were so unattractive to him that he just couldn't bring himself to see them for more than a date or two.
Harry, on the other hand was always bringing someone home. He had men and women there with him every week. Usually, it was a different person every week and that didn't bother Draco all that much. But he'd been seeing Conor for six weeks now and the way the other man was always clinging to Harry, always laughing and batting his eyelashes at him; it made Draco feel ready to kill him.
"So I was thinking," Harry said when there was a lull in the conversation, "The Leaky is having a Pride Night celebration tomorrow. Maybe we should all go together?" he asked hopefully.
There were murmurs of approval all around the table and Draco dropped his gaze to his plate, his palms started to itch. Malfoys aren't gay. Malfoys aren't gay.
"What about you, Draco?" Conor asked, all toothy smiles as he rested his arm around Harry's shoulders.
He couldn't help but look over at Harry who was suddenly watching him in that way that made him feel like he was being held under a magnifying glass. People thought that Harry was oblivious but Draco knew they were wrong. Harry knew everything about Draco just from watching him.
Draco swallowed, "Yeah," he managed. "Yeah. I can come for a bit."
Harry smiled at him then, soft and sweet, his dimples showing, "Yeah?" he asked.
And Draco was fairly certain there was nothing he could have said no to when Harry asked like that, so he nodded.
"Great!" Conor enthused and the moment dissipated like fog in the sun. "It'll be so fun to have all of your friends there, babe."
"Err," Harry said, looking over at Conor, "Yeah. Totally." Then he turned back to look at Draco once more, "Yeah," he said again.
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June 10, 2000
Draco had made a mistake.
Malfoys aren't gay. Malfoys aren't gay. Malfoys aren't gay.
"Hey!" Harry said, appearing out of nowhere and wrapping an arm around Draco, "I'm so glad you're here."
"Me too," he lied.
"Come on," Harry said, "Let me introduce you to some people."
Draco spent the next hour meeting all sorts of people, he listened to people telling their stories, people who were claiming their own lives and destinies, and all he could feel was loss.
Every person he listened to felt like another stone tied around his neck, their joy and freedom made him feel even more trapped. Harry went to fetch drinks as he listened to a trans woman named Jocelyn talking about how difficult it had been to come out to her family. And it was the final straw, he lost it. Tears slipped from his eyes and before he could do anything, she was hugging him, "We've all been where you are," she whispered.
He shook his head and pulled back, "I'm not-" he covered his mouth, he couldn't quite force out the lie.
She nodded knowingly, "We've all been there, too."
"I've got to go," he managed, rising on shaking legs and making his way out of the bar as quickly as he could.
When he got outside he bent over, resting his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.
"Draco!" he heard as the door opened and he wasn't ready for this.
"Don't," he said, standing up and holding out his hands to stop Harry from coming any closer.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern and Draco hated it.
"Malfoys aren't gay!" he exploded.
"What?" Harry asked as though his words hadn't been perfectly clear.
"Malfoys aren't gay," he repeated.
Harry tilted his head at him, "Alright."
"So you can stop this," he said, gesturing at the door. "I don't need help coming out. I'm not gay," he spat.
"I'm not trying to help you come out," Harry said, his voice measured and calm in a way that told Draco just how hard he was working at not getting emotional. "I just wanted to introduce you to-"
"Bull shit," he hissed. "Every person you 'introduced me to' told me about coming out."
"It's Pride, Draco. They're," he stopped and corrected himself, "We're celebrating coming out. We're celebrating not hiding who we are anymore. If you think it's about you, well," he shrugged a shoulder, "You probably have more in common with us than you want to admit."
"I'm not gay!" he shouted, shoving Harry away from him.
There was a flash of hurt across Harry's face before he put his hands on his hips and that fire that Draco so remembered from Hogwarts filled his eyes. "No one said you were!" Harry shouted back. "And if you were so afraid of having people think you are, why did you even come in the first place?"
"I guess I shouldn't have."
Harry took a step back away from him, shaking his head, "I guess not." He turned on his heel and stalked back into the bar, leaving Draco standing on the sidewalk, shaking as the adrenaline flooded through him.
-------------
June 11, 2000
It wasn't quite morning when Draco heard a soft knock at his door.
With no small amount of effort, he reached for his wand and cast a spell to open it. Harry was standing in the doorway and Draco huffed, "I've already packed," he said. "I'll leave in the morning."
"What?" Harry asked, sounding panicked, "No!" he said, stepping across the threshold of Draco's room and moving to the chair across from Draco's bed. "No," he repeated. "Draco, please don't leave. I'm sorry. Alright?" Harry said. "I shouldn't-"
"You're sorry?" Draco asked, sitting up and staring at the other boy, "No, I'm sorry," he said, quickly. "I was awful and I didn't le-"
"No," Harry said, shaking his head, "It's my fault. I shouldn't-"
"I'm gay," Draco blurted and then realized what he'd just admitted. He covered his mouth with his hand and his eyes filled with tears.
"Hey," Harry whispered, climbing onto the bed next to him and pulling Draco into his arms, "It's okay."
Draco shook his head but couldn't manage any words around the sob that was choking him.
"It's okay," Harry soothed, stroking his fingers through Draco's hair and rocking him. "I've got you," he breathed. "You're safe," he said, "You're safe," he repeated. "You're loved and you're accepted," he told him, "I've got you."
Draco sobbed, all of the fear, and the guilt, and the shame was built up high in his chest and he felt like he couldn't breathe around it.
"Okay," Harry soothed, "Slow breaths with me, yeah? Just try to match your breathing to mine," he said, his hand rubbing soothingly over Draco's back.
He sucked in a deep, gasping breath that burned all the way down into his lungs.
"That's it," Harry encouraged, "You're alright."
He continued breathing slowly and Draco tried to mirror it until his sobbing was just the occasional hiccup and the tears were just trickling out of his eyes.
"Okay," Harry breathed. "Better?"
Draco nodded and pulled back, "Sorry," he murmured, then he caught sight of Harry's shirt covered in tears and snot and wished that the earth would open up and swallow him, "Salazar, I'm sorry," he said, reaching for his wand and casting a hasty drying charm followed by a cleaning charm.
"It's fine," Harry said, reaching out to still Draco's motions. "It's fine," he repeated. "Look, I didn't mean to pressure you into coming out," he said. "I won't tell anyone," he added hastily.
He shook his head, "It's eating me up inside." Draco wiped the tears off his face, "I'm going to die alone."
"Don't say that," Harry said.
"Well it's true!" he said, "What am I supposed to tell my parents?"
Harry took his hand, "It's up to you," he said softly. "I won't pretend to understand the challenges you're facing. My parents are dead."
"Oh, thanks. Play the dead parent card."
Harry huffed a laugh, "Shut up. I'm trying to say that I can't imagine how difficult this is for you. It's not an easy decision and I want you to know that I am here for you, that I support you, no matter what."
His eyes filled with tears and he let out a groan, "Stop it."
The other boy wrapped his arms around him, "No."
"What is this?" he asked, from where his face was buried in Harry's neck.
"Affection."
"Disgusting," he murmured.
"Want me to stop?"
He shook his head because when Harry wasn't hugging him everything felt a little too big and a little too close.
And he had no idea what he was going to do but when Harry was holding him it didn't seem quite so scary.
-------------
A few weeks later, he and Harry had started dating in secret. Harry was very sweet, very patient as Draco struggled against years of deeply ingrained negative thoughts. Draco still felt like he was a bit of a burden but Harry always insisted he wasn't.
Just over a month after that, Hermione had figured it out on her own, Pansy had tricked him into confessing, and Ron had walked in on the two of them making out on Harry's bed.
And the world didn't end.
Slowly, over the course of the next seven months, they told all of their friends. Everyone was supportive. Everyone was happy for them, happy for him that he'd decided to walk in the truth.
Truth be told, he was happy too. His anxiety still got the worst of him some days and his fear was sometimes bigger than anything else but he got through those days and those days slowly became fewer and fewer.
He got comfortable with Harry; comfortable holding hands, comfortable with casual kisses, comfortable with bickering that turned into flirting, just comfortable in his skin.
One chilly March morning, he and Harry were out to breakfast and they were laughing and teasing each other, like they always did and Draco was happy all the way down to his toes.
He looked across the table at Harry, "You've got whipped cream on your mouth," he laughed.
Harry stuck his tongue out and missed completely.
"Here," he said with a laugh, "Let me," he added as he grabbed the front of Harry's jumper and pulled him close so he could kiss it off his grinning face.
He was pulling back to check that he'd gotten it all when he heard a gasp that he would have recognized anywhere. Draco would never be quite sure what his face and body language were saying at that moment but Harry was instantly on alert, scanning the room for danger. "Shit," he breathed.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy," his mother hissed. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing."
"Don't make a scene, mother," he said and even he was surprised at how calm the words came out.
"I don't think that I am the one making a scene, Draco."
"Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, "Why don't we go somewhere more private for this conversation."
"Oh no," she said, "I don't think there is any conversation to be had. Draco, we'll be leaving. Right this instant."
Draco looked at her, at the woman who had dried his tears, who had sacrificed for him, who had given him life and his heart yearned for her. He longed to reach out and hold her hand like he had when he was young, to let her reassure him that everything would be alright. And it could be. He knew if he walked away with her today, he'd go back to living the life that had been planned for him.
But then he looked at Harry and all he could see was freedom. His heart expanded as he remembered the late nights talking over a bottle of wine, the early mornings as the sun filtered in through Harry's window and painted him golden. He remembered the cuddles on the couch and the evenings spent cooking dinner together. And he knew that he could never go back. He could never live a life of duty and obligation knowing that this one was possible.
"I love you," he said softly as he stared at Harry.
The other man blinked before his mouth curved up in a grin, his dimples showing, "I love you, too."
He reached for Harry's hand to ground himself as he turned to his mother, "You know that I love you," he said to her, "but I can't live a lie. I can't be the boy that you wanted."
"Draco you are being ridiculous."
"Maybe," he replied. "But I never knew what it was like to be free before these past few months with Harry and I won't give them back."
She cast a belated muffliato. "There are plenty of Purebloods who are gay, Draco," she said, keeping her voice low, "You still have your obligation to have a pureblood heir. Marry a nice girl and take a lover if you must, but you will continue your bloodline."
He laughed, it sounded a bit hysterical even to his own ears. "Do you hear yourself?" he asked. "The Malfoy line can die with me. I'm not marrying some woman just to please you."
"Draco-"
"No," he said sharply. "No. I can't do this, mother. I can't be what you want me to be. I'm done." He shook his head, "You can accept this, accept me or not. Either way I am done."
She straightened her spine and smoothed the emotions from her features and Draco knew the decision she had made before she started speaking. He clasped Harry's hand tighter in his. "Very well, then," she said. "Good day," she murmured before she walked away without a backward glance.
They sat in silence for a moment before Harry asked, "Are you alright?"
"I don't know."
"What can I do?" he murmured, squeezing Draco's hand again.
"Can we go home?"
Harry nodded, "Yeah, love. Of course."
He apparated them back and they spend the afternoon cocooned in Harry's room until their friends came to find them for dinner.
---------------
June 9, 2001
This year it's Draco who asked about going to the bar to celebrate Pride.
Harry smiled and pulled him in for a long kiss before nodding and getting dressed.
When they arrived, Draco slipped his fingers through Harry's holding his hand tightly; proud of Harry, proud of how far they've come, and proud of himself for how much he's grown and how brave he's become.
Several of the people he'd met the year before remembered him and are quick to congratulate him and welcome him again. The night was full of music and dancing, of listening to stories and starting to tell his own, it's everything Harry had made it sound like.
And he thought he might be happy, in spite of that little bit of his heart that always ached for his parents.
They're about to head up for another round of drinks when Harry tugged on his hand. "Look," he murmured, pointing to the door.
Draco followed his pointing and saw that there was a woman standing in the door who looked remarkably like his mother. "What?" he managed.
But Harry was already waving to her and nudging Draco forward.
"What?" he repeated when he was standing in front of her.
Without a word she wrapped her arms around him, enfolding him in the comforting feel and scent of his childhood.
"Mummy?" he whispered.
"Yes, darling," she replied, voice equally thick with tears.
Harry cleared his throat, "I'll fetch us some drinks. What can I get you Narcissa?" he asked.
"Whiskey neat," she replied without releasing her hold on Draco.
He pulled back after one more moment, "What are you doing here?"
"Where else could I be?" she asked. "When we didn't see you for your birthday last week," she shook her head. "Well, I knew that I was making a mistake."
Harry returned handing them their drinks and nodding toward a table nearby.
They headed over and she sat next to Draco, "You're my child, Draco," she said. "And I love you more than you can imagine."
He nodded once but didn't say anything. This sounded too much like the start to one of the 'I love you and if you love me, this is how you should act' talks.
"Fortunately, your Mr. Potter has sent quite regular correspondence."
"What?" Draco said, whipping his head around to look at Harry.
He nodded once but before Draco could question him his mother continued.
"He invited me to come tonight," she continued, "To support you. And I've missed so much already, how could I say no?"
"This isn't a phase," he said. "I'm not going to change my mind or be cured one day."
She nodded, "I know."
"Does father?"
She hummed, "We're getting there." She took his hand in her's, "For now, won't you introduce me to some of your new friends?"
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Two years later, when he and Harry got married, both of his parents were there, sitting right in the front row and cheering them on.
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Thanks for the prompt! I don't quite know what you were hoping for so I hope this is okay! <3
186 notes · View notes
minahoeshi · 3 years ago
Text
you were loved the most the most of all.
Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader | breakup angst
Summary: You should've known that when Ushijima Wakatoshi found it easy to fall in love with you, it might be even easier for him to fall out of it. But who expects the worst when it comes to loving someone as seemingly perfect as him, anyway?
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Chapter 1 of 2
Chapter 2 of 2
Middle schooler Ushijima Wakatoshi was already more special than the kids around him. This, he was made to believe. It’s not exactly like it was wrong either. When a child is raised the way he was, with so much support that it’s suffocating, one can only grow to be good at what they were told they were meant to be doing. Volleyball as a toddler was meant for the happier times, a memory locked away as nothing but a feeling of nostalgia, never to be completely remembered again. Volleyball as a middle school player was an endless beginning, the very first point of a journey with no real possible end. Volleyball as one of the best among kids of his age, proven by the strength his high school team was known for and the fact that he was already on the world stage as well, could only ever spur him on to keep the momentum. Keep climbing, he would be reminded. Never stop. That’s how you reach the peak. Whether he would break after all that or rise to the very top was never even a matter of discussion. The way to the top was the only one there was. Looking back down and allowing himself to just freefall until the top becomes a distance almost crossed but never reached wasn’t ever an option. Wakatoshi could only ever aim for the very peak.
So, Wakatoshi, how’s volleyball as a pro?
The feeling of a dream-come-true that never was a dream, he might say. But him and sentimental descriptions simply didn’t really mix much. You were the one filled to the brim with those kinds of words. Maybe flowers laced the walls of your chest, maybe when God kicked Adam and Eve out of Eden, he left the garden to grow and flourish within your lungs, maybe you unknowingly raised every single Godly creation and so you were blessed with the power to create as well. You were full of flowery words, that’s what he knows. He would listen to every single one of them, count every petal, water every plant, kiss every one of them in their full bloom, and watch as sunlight filtered orange sets on all that you are. He’s always liked plants. But yours were his favourite.
So he wonders why the point where he could no longer listen to your words had to come. Why he looked at you and only felt the kind of fondness that comes with familiarity but not exactly love. Why the way your hands entwined with his no longer fills his chest with warmth. Why the abyss he spent trying to fill before you arrived (and made him realise maybe empty spaces were never meant to be filled to feel full but instead filled to feel warm) now feels extremely cold again. So maybe things like love do end. And maybe he made promises too soon.
So maybe when you told him about your mother and father and about how they made promises too but couldn’t come through, and when Wakatoshi thought you won’t ever be the same, he was wrong. Maybe one of them realised letting go when love no longer feels the same is better than letting their hands stay entwined when there’s only numbing coldness left to be felt. So maybe it’d do you better for him to let things end. From this point onwards, whatever he does will only ever hurt you. Because you crave the kind of affection that won’t ever end, and how he wish he could keep giving that to you, but he just no longer can. And staying with him who, for whatever fucked up reason the cosmos came up with, can no longer find the love he spent years sharing with you, is something he would never wish upon you.
This fucking hurts. How he fucking wants to keep loving you. What the hell happened?
After you left, Wakatoshi skipped training. He felt bad for eating the omelette when you cooked it to wish him luck. But he ate it anyway, wondering if he will ever see you again. And if so, will he feel find himself feeling the way he used to? And if yes, would you want that?
How do feelings work anyway?
--
You get to work right away. Still feeling heavy and hurt, sobbing at times, you keep collecting Wakatoshi’s things from your apartment. There were a lot. You were both comfortable with sharing your spaces with each other anytime you both wanted. Sometimes leaving things behind caused problems like that time Wakatoshi left his jersey in your apartment and only realized on the day of a game. You had to head to the gym earlier than you usually do, thankfully having washed the clothing a few days before. It’s actually there again, you find. His Schweiden Adler jersey in your closet among the pile of his other shirts and pyjamas. You put all that and other things into a box and close it up. For now, you’ll clean your place and get some sleep. You slept late last night and you woke up too early. Dealing with lack of sleep and the taxing feelings of ache after a breakup was too much. You were exhausted.
The moment you lie on your bed, you feel yourself falling asleep. And then you do. World gone.
You wake up at around lunch and take a short shower. You dress up, carry the box of Wakatoshi’s stuff, head out, lock your door, and go on your away to Tendou’s chocolate shop. You weren’t friends with him before you met Wakatoshi. So, you guess, maybe this will be the last you see him too. When people lose others, they either prefer to keep remembering or completely forget. For your sake, you’d rather be the latter.
Tendou’s shop isn’t close enough to the train station. You have to walk a few more minutes before you reach it. The box you’re carrying isn’t exactly heavy but you still feel sluggish even after that nap. You stop by a café to gather your wits and rest a bit. When you meet Tendou, you know he’ll greet you brightly. Toshi wouldn’t have told him that you broke up just yet. You realised long ago that unless asked by people, Toshi would rather not say anything most of the time. His silence was one you grew used to. Now you have to get used to not being around it anymore.
When you enter the chocolate shop, you see his red hair behind the counter right away. Quite the opposite of Wakatoshi, he’s lively and loud when he wants to be. Like right now, as he’s talking to a costumer, excitedly helping them choose one of the products they’re looking for. You wait until he’s done, just sending him a wave when he sees you, smiling. When the costumer leaves, you head for the counter and place the box you’ve been holding on top pf it.
Loudly, as you expected, he says, “hello! What brings you here? Haven’t seen you in like, three days, I think? You need anything? Where’s Wakatoshi-san? He’s not with you? Why?”
His barrage of questions won’t be left unanswered. But first, you nudge the box toward him. “Uhm, yeah, haven’t seen you in days. I… uhm, I’m here to ask you to do something. Related to Toshi-kun, of course, and well, why he’s… not, uhm, here…? With me?”
You stutter a lot mainly because you don’t exactly feel like announcing that Wakatoshi broke up with you. Tendou simply seems extremely excited to see you and even hopeful to see his best friend too but right now, you just feel like crying all over again It’s like you just can’t run out of tears. You just know that after this, you’ll go home and sob the rest of the day away. Breaking up with Wakatoshi hurt you a lot.
The redhead urges you on, concern beginning to appear on his face. What with the way you’re stuttering and fidgeting when you’re usually so comfortable around him and other people, it’s easy to tell that you’re not feeling too well. Clearly, something must have happened between you and Wakatoshi.
“So… we… kind of broke up…?” the lack of certainty in your voice makes it seem as though you’re still unsure if things really did end between you and the pro-athlete you’ve spent years with. But with the way Wakatoshi told you his reasons for breaking up last night, and how he didn’t want to keep hurting you because you’ve already talked to him about two other people who met and fell in love and did many things and yet still fell out of it but tried to hold on for too long that they ended up tearing each other down until even their daughter started to break with them until it’s just one tiny family with sharp shards for hearts, only capable of hurting each other and nothing more (some daughters grow up wanting to be anything but their mothers and fathers). Of course, Wakatoshi never mentioned that story, but you both knew that when he said he knows he can only really hurt you even more if he lets things run as they always did, he meant, we’re not your parents. We won’t tear each other down. If you go now, you’ll be okay enough to not be the person you’ll come to hate.
The only thing you allow Tendou to know is that you and Wakatoshi are no longer dating and that you’re both okay with it. You leave it at that, and when Tendou gives you a hug, the pain in your chest runs up your throat and you start crying again but that’s alright because Tendou reminds you that you’re sad and hurt and crying makes sense and crying helps and crying is fine and maybe crying makes it hurt a little bit less. He pats your back and says nothing after that, simply letting you calm down.
Before you leave, you purchase a few sweets because Tendou told u it’ll help. Chocolates and sadness work too well with each other.
The last time Wakatoshi remembers talking to you was around a year after your breakup. He and his team known to be one of the bests of Japan lost against the bests of Argentina in the Olympics. The world stage wasn't a strange new world to him and neither was loss, but for the first time in many years, the man found himself burdened by the weight of too many regrets.
He knew then that maybe it wasn't exactly losing against Argentina that made him feel this way. Maybe the emptiness he so desperately filled by pouring too much of his days into training and playing was finally there to break him. Maybe the whole time he was thinking he was getting there, not knowing where, only hoping to keep going because he just doesn't know where he can stop to lay his pieces down, he was only distracted enough to not miss the warmth you brought with you which you took with you when he broke your heart. And so when he lost that game, he questioned what could possibly keep him going. When does this journey end? Until when must he keep going? His parents never told him when he was younger. All this time, he only knew to keep forward. Now that he has won one too many games and finally lost one of the most important games he could play, he finds himself wondering if he should stop here now.
And because you knew him too much, you just had to, you know, be that rock that kept him steady even after he hurt you. He went and broke your heart for reasons he himself still cannot really explain, like how the fuck he knew he was no longer in love with you, and why the fuck is he still missing you, and is God playing with him right fucking now? So you just had to call him when he was all alone in his hotel room, mind messed up in so many ways. Your voice just to had to be there. To tell him, you did so well today. To be honest, I haven't watched much of your games recently but I felt like I just had to watch this one. And it was so awesome. It makes me wanna start watching you play again. You're amazing, Wakatoshi-kun. I'm so proud of you.
And then a year later, Wakatoshi finds out that you finally published the novel you’ve been working on since way before he met you. In the first message you sent him, you attached a picture of your book, saying, look at the name on the cover. are you proud of me yet? I am too<3. Better grab yourself a copy before there's none left, right? He couldn't say for sure why you decided to message him about it. It wasn't like you stayed in contact, both of you aware of how much you preferred not facing the past if you had the choice. That time after he lost against Tooru Oikawa's team in the Olympics and you gave him a call was because you're just that kind. You're just that amazing.
But like many things he'll never understand, he just lets this one be. So what if you told him about your book? He should be thankful enough that you even decided to tell him about it. So he goes and buys a copy and reads it as soon as he gets home. It's not like he's big on reading. But he just really likes your words.
Epilogue
...and if someday we find ourselves in a universe where soulmates are filled to the brim with not only stardust but also pure serendipity, I wonder what kind of mark we would have. I kinda wish it'd be that one where ink on my skin gets inked on yours too. Then maybe it'd be so much easier to tell you all the secrets I've been trying to keep. Like how I spent too many years regretting not succumbing in that green lake back home or how sometimes I bleed all over in red angry lines running down like red angry tears, and how much you made me just want to live because you just made me feel loved the most of all. Because maybe you were my finallyfinallyfinallyfinally before you were my whywhywhywhywhywhy.
The End
A/N
Hello. I deeply feel how flawed this fic is but that's fine. I'm still learning how to write stories because I've been writing prose more than anything else. So stories like this do kinda scare me. But I still hope you liked it and thank you so much for reading it!!!!
also, not proofread. it's p hard for me to reread my own works so im v sorry for any mistakes and stuff. if u find any mistakes and whatnot pls pls pls tell me. thats all i hope u enjoyed this v much shouldve stayed in the drafts fic. mwa!
taglist:
@lordmypantsaresocool
@annoyingpessimist
@ushijimacentral
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milliedazzledust · 4 years ago
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Unspoken (Bucky Barnes imagine)
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Request by @screechingdreamercollectorsblog : the reader lost all her family and also a twin sister. She’s in love with Bucky but he doesn't know and no one knows her story except Steve but he never told it as it was her decision. One day Wanda tells her "you don't know what it’s like to lose somebody especially a twin." And Reader said "Actually I do." And then She walks away. Bucky heard It and goes to talk to her and also they confess each other feelings. Also She starts an amazing friend ship with Wanda.
Words: 3183 words
A/N: So many ideas, I feel like this needs to be a several part story. Thanks for the request, this was fun to write -
She thought a lot about her family. The memory of their death, the circumstances that led to it, the guilt. It was all a constant reminder, every day, of what she lost. She often felt like she was walking with a shadow on her back, consuming what was left of light, making her into this gloomy person everyone was so afraid to get close to. In a way, she was glad. Her guilt made her believe living this way was her sentence and she couldn’t allow anybody else to carry her burden. One person knew though, the only hope on her pathway. Steve Rogers. He hadn’t been bold enough to ask her up front but instead waited, close enough so she knew he was there, until she was ready to confide in him. Late one night, he had found her crying on the rooftop of the Avengers tower. Silently, he had put a blanket on her shoulders and had sit next to her. Without looking at him, she had told him everything. There had been no judgment from the Captain, not even a look of pity. He promised he wouldn’t tell a soul and after that, she grew closer from the man she considered now family.
That’s how Steve picked up on what was happening in front of his eyes before anybody else. Everyday, he would catch Bucky’s eyes lingering on her. The Soldier often asked Steve about her, he could guess the sadness behind every broken smile. Behind her cracks, he could almost see his own. She reminded him a lot of what it had mean to become the Winter Soldier, of the pain his mind had endured as Hydra tore it into pieces. While he was curious of her past, he also understood that whatever it was, she hadn’t dealt with it. The grief was evident and he wanted nothing more than to help her anyway he could, but every time he took a step toward her, she took three more backward. Steve assured him it wasn’t his fault. They both could see the internal struggle within her, the raging battle between self-inflicted pain and sheer will to live again. So far, she hadn’t give in and instead opted for an illusion only Steve and Bucky weren’t falling for.
She wasn’t the only one feeling the overbearing weight of grief. That specific day marked the one year anniversary of their battle in Sokovia. There was an eerie, gloomy atmosphere inside the compound. For the Avengers, it was the reminder of a difficult battle, of many lives lost, of victory. For Wanda Maximoff, it was the day she lost her brother. She had barely left her bedroom and no one dared go speak to her. Natasha and Vision had gone to see how she was doing but she had refused the company. They could all hear her crying and had collectively silently agreed that it was better to let her process her feelings alone. Y/N was debating wether she should follow their example. She had been standing close to Wanda’s bedroom door for the past hour when she felt a presence next to her.
“You should go talk to her” She heard someone whisper.
She turned her head, her eyes landing on a pretty concerned Captain.
“Wil it really make a difference ?” She asked.
“She’s hurting” Steve answered. “Just like you”
The woman dropped her head.
“I’m not sure, I .. I won’t know what to say”
“You’ll know exactly what to say, Y/N. You’ve both lost a lot”
“So have you. So have everybody here”
He sadly nodded.
“Why does it have to be me ?”
“Because we’ve all grieved. We made peace with whatever happened to us. We don’t feel sadness, anger or guilt just thinking about whomever we lost.” He explained. “You do. Just like her.”
She pursed her lips.
“I can’t pretend to understand, Y/N, because I don’t. I see the mountain that is your pain everyday when I look into your eyes. And, behind this door is a friend who’s going through the same loss you’ve experienced. Even if you haven’t dealt with the death of your sister, you know what it was like for her to lose Pietro, to live without him, to not be capable to let yourself be alive when half of you isn’t anymore”
Hearing his words was enough to reopen the gigantic wound inside her chest. She knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, encouraging her with a soft smile.
“Alright. I’ll go”
She glanced at Wanda’s bedroom before looking back at Steve and swallowed the lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she closed the distance and knocked. Not waiting for an answer, she walked inside. She knew if she had ask Wanda, the Witch would have let her wait without an answer until she left.
The young woman was sitting on her bed, her gaze drifting into space. Y/N wasn’t sure she had even acknowledge her presence. All she could see was her soul bleeding an ocean through her eyes. When she sat next to her on the bed, Wanda tried to brush the tears away but it was useless. She couldn’t stop crying.
“I’m sorry you lost him” Y/N whispered.
She cursed under her breath, knowing those were in no way comforting words.
“If you came to tell me you understand, you can leave” She replied with a thick accent.
For a moment, Y/N did not say a word. She was thinking hard of something that could appease her friend, but her mind was blank.
“Are you also going to ask me if I’m okay” She heard Wanda say.
“What is the point ? I know you’re not”
She sighed.
“I’ve always hated that question. How are you suppose to know how you are if all you can feel is emptiness… It’s easier to say yes, put on a smile and turn your head”
“Is that why you’re here ? Are you expecting a yes or the truth ?”
“I already know the truth”
Wanda humorlessly chuckle.
“Are you going to pretend you know what I’m feeling ?” She told her with irony
“That’s the thing. I don’t need to pretend”
She felt her friend tense beside her.
“You should leave”
“Wanda…”
“No!” She shouted, getting up to put a distance between them. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m gonna be alright! I don’t need to hear it will hurt less with time, that I will forget ! Because I won’t, okay, I won’t!”
She started sobbing. For a split second, Y/N thought about hugging her, but she knew that this wouldn’t be a good idea. When her sister died, she couldn’t bear the hugs. They were so full of light and hope, such a bright contrast to the dark that was surrounding her. So she stayed on the bed, and watched her friend break down. Wanda needed the pain, she needed the anger, because they would inevitably lead to the last stage of grief. To life.
“Stop pretending to get this … this torture, because I can assure you, you don’t” Wanda vehemently told her, pacing around the room. “My heart is broken, okay ? It’s … It’s shattered. Not even in pieces, because he took those with him when he died.”
“Wanda …”
“No! You don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody !” Wanda yelled back. “Especially a twin!”
“Actually, I do”
Wanda instantly stopped walking and turned back to her friend, surprised. She watched Y/N playing with her hands, trying to keep the tears at bay, her eyes fixed on her lap, refusing to catch a glimpse of pity when she’ll start talking.
“It.. It doesn’t stop. The pain, I mean. It’s like this overbearing weight that crushes you every single minute of every single day. And when you get a moment to breath, a moment where you don’t feel your heart might explode of sadness, you feel guilty. So all that’s left of you now is pain and guilt. I can’t tell you it’ll get better, because it never did for me.”
She brushed the tears on her cheek as Wanda slowly sat back next to her.
“The world stopped when I lost her, my twin I mean” She continued, starring into space. “And I try, I swear I try to make it work again, but to this day all I keep asking myself is why her … why her and not…me. She was so much stronger than me, she deserved …”
A sob escaped her lips, preventing her from speaking.
“Steve told me I would be able to help you, because I understand your pain. But I can’t. What good would it do to you if I told you I feel like dying every time I think about my memories of her ?”
She humorlessly laughed.
“What good would it do if I confess I don’t want to live because I’m scarred of forgetting ? That I can’t breathe because each breath feels like I’ve cheated death ? That I’m becoming a void of darkness silently sinking ?”
They stayed silence before Wanda’s hand slowly came to hold hers. They spent a short moment without talking. Two woman with broken soul that understood each other on a level no one else’s could.
“You know ..” The Witch started to mutter. “Vis’ told me something once, and it stuck up on me ever since.”
“What was it ?”
“What is grief, if not love persevering”
A tear roll down Y/N’s cheeks, the words stabbing her right through the chest. Suddenly, she was up on her feet, alert and disoriented. This was sheer pain like she had rarely known, wide open scars bleeding through her soul.
“I can’t” She breathlessly told her friend. “I … I’m … I’m sorry Wanda I ca..”
And she fled the room. As soon as she stepped outside of it, she bumped into a muscular chest. Stopping in her tracks, she looked up. That’s when she saw it, what she dreaded the most. A look of pity. Bucky was standing in front of her, searching her eyes, his mouth open like the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he couldn’t voice any of them. He raised an arm toward her, a reflex to comfort the woman he cared the most about, but she was gone in a second. He turned back to glance at Wanda. The woman sadly smile and shook her head.
“Go get her” She simply told him.
And just like that, he was gone. He started by her bedroom, but she wasn’t there. He went to the lab, asked Tony and Bruce if they had seen her, but she wasn’t there. He passed by the gym, than their living room, but again, she was not there. He was almost running inside the building, going anywhere he could think of, but there was no sign of her. He was very frustrated when he crossed path with his best friend.
“Wha …” Steve started to ask.
“Y/N” Barnes only answered, almost out of breath.
The Captain hummed, watching his distress, knowing it was a bad time to ask him about it.
“She’s on the roof”
Bucky didn’t wait, not even hearing what Steve said next, and fled. He didn’t take the elevator and rushed up the stairs. It was a long way up but he did not care. All his mind was focused on was closing the distance between them. Finally, she was there. Sitting on the edge of the building, the sun shining so bright above their head.
“Please tell me you were not thinking of jumping” He said, half joking.
She didn’t turn around to look at him. She had felt his presence before he was even near her.
“The thought crossed my mind” She admitted.
He didn’t want to know if she was joking. Quietly, he stepped next to her and sat on the border, his legs dangling in the air.
“What happened ?” He inquired.
“I just … I thought I could help Wanda and…”
“That’s not what I’m asking” He cut her. “What happened to you Y/N ?”
She pursed her lips, turning for the first time to look back at him. She was almost expecting to see the pity in his eyes, but instead it had been replaced by worry.
“I had a family before the Avengers”
“A family you’ve lost” He guessed.
“…Yes. I couldn’t save them”
He raised his head toward her. She could see the millions of questions he had behind his stare. He was too polite to ask her but she knew he wanted to know. So she turned back to look at the garden in front of the compound, focused on the daisies Tony had insisted to have, and started to tell him her story.
“My parents were … scientists. Experts in genome manipulation. They were working for the government, for Shield. They discovered something important, something they wouldn’t tell us anything about. They started to get edgy, paranoiac, always looking over their shoulder. Whatever it was they found, they were scared. We fled America at the time. My sister and I, we didn’t understand what was happening, we didn’t get that … that they knew they were gonna die. That they were trying to keep us alive”
“What did they find ?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here”
“I don’t understand”
She closed her eyes, remembering them.
“They experimented it on me”
“What ?”
He was shocked.
“We were in Stockholm at the time. One night, they took me to their lab, they said they needed me to work. I was seventeen, just so happy to be with them, so I said yes. Four days later, I woke up alone, surrounded by ashes and no memories. I found …” She stopped for a second, her lips quivering. “I found what was left of their bodies. My sister was there too. All of them, dead.”
Tears started to roll down her cheeks.
“I was convinced I killed them, I couldn’t move, I was just … stuck. So I stayed there, laying on the ground, next to their bodies, until Tony found me.”
“That’s how you came to live with Stark”
“Yes. He took me in, changed my name and my story, made me swear to never talk about this”
“Why ?”
“He helped me figure out what happened that night. My parents did succeed in their experiment. They made me … enhanced. That’s what they called it anyway”
“They gave you your powers” He guessed.
“Yes. The same day, Shield found them. While I was under, they put a bullet in their head. My sister was supposed to be sick, at home. But she sneaked out and hid in the lab. She just wanted to be with us. Shield tried to make it seen like it was an accident, a malfunction”
“An explosion”
She nodded.
“Yes. They blew up the lab, with all of us in there”
“But you didn’t die”
“I absorbed the blast”
“Oh…”
She brushed the tears off her face, looking at her trembling hands. It was useless to try to make them stop.
“I never found out who was behind their assassination, or what I am suppose to be”
“What you’re suppose to be ?” He repeated, surprised.
“They put their secret inside me, that’s how I came to be. But what is it, and what am I?”
He frowned, his mind working a thousand miles an hour.
“Do you really think this changes who you are ?” He asked her.
“I lost my identity, Bucky. I lost the person I was. Those powers, they turn me into something I’m not”
“Are you saying I’m the Winter Soldier? That I’m … not a person anymore but a program design to kill ?”
He knew the answer to that question, but he needed her to understand.
“Of course not!” She vehemently answered.
“This is the same fight, Y/N. Hydra might have wiped out my memories, but Bucky Barnes reappeared each time they tried to erase him, because this is who I am. My strength, my arm, my alter-ego, they don’t define who Bucky is. The kid that grew up in Brooklyn does”
“Do you really believe that ?”
“I believe we’ve been broken. But it doesn’t mean we can’t be fix”
His metal arm moved to hold her hand. When she turns around to look at him, he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with his human hand before brushing his fingertips on her cheek, wiping her tears away.
“I don’t know how many times you’ll need to hear this, Y/N, but we’re not beyond repair” He whispered.
A shiver ran up her spine at his whole demeanor. His shoulders held high, his eyes boring into hers, all she could see was his rage to live, his will to rebuilt stronger foundations around their broken pieces. No it was not pity anymore, nor was it worry. All she saw now was admiration.
“You and I, we are survivors” He said with force.
He was a warm light she had yearn to feel, fresh air she thought would never touch her skin again. Wordlessly, she laid her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes. She didn’t want this feeling to go away and wished to hard she could bottle up this moment with him forever. They stayed like this, her body against his, his hand entangled in her hair, his chin resting above her head, and for a moment none of them spoke.
“Why do I feel so guilty to have you” She muttered so low he almost didn’t hear her.
“Because you know I can bring you peace” He honestly answered next to her ear.
“If I let you in, if I take the risk to be hurt again and I lose you…”
“You won’t”
“You don’t know that for sure”
“I know I’ve got strong feelings for you, and they won’t go away”
“And I feel the same, but we’re gonna get hurt”
“Isn’t that what love is about ? Navigating between feelings so loud they can’t be shut down, even after death. Stop being so afraid to keep on living, Y/N.”
“Bucky …” She called, slowly raising her head to look at him.
“I’m not giving you a choice, doll.”
Before she could talk herself out of this, he closed the short distance between them and laid his lips on hers. Suddenly, what was a flame became a raging fire in the pit of her stomach. She could feel her heart pumping all the way to her ears, feel the tingling sensation of his fingertips against her skin, a sense of peace finally. This was raw emotions they were sharing, sparks of electricity they were making as their lips were moving. Their own world they were creating. A promise they were sealing.
“You’re gonna be okay” He assured her, kissing her forehead.
“Promise me you’ll stay, Bucky”
“For as long as you’ll let me” He finished.
She looked up at him with hope.
“I promise”
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datawyrms · 4 years ago
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Ghostly Mystery Tour
For Phic Fight 2021! dey’s lovely prompt c:
On Ao3
Maddie and Jack had fully prepared for their adventure into the Ghost Zone—or so they thought. The fuel on Specter Speeder had fizzled out about a mile in. They're stuck. At least, until Phantom comes by, offering help.
“I just don’t understand it Maddie, I swear I charged it just this morning!” Jack’s voice managed to be louder than his frantic jabbing at the fuel gauge in the enclosed space, the sickly green glow outside making him look ill instead of agitated.
“I’m sure you did honey, but we need to think of a plan.” Maddie was already trying to think of what they could use. They weren’t too far away from the portal home, with how quickly the Speeder ran out of power. They had plenty of gear and weaponry packed in for their research trip, but the Specter Speeder wasn’t powered with something they could just toss in a gas can and bring along. “Maybe we can hook some of the ropes to the floating land masses and tow it?”
“Oh! Great idea!” Jack brightened, shoving the previous problem aside, hands now occupied with measuring the distance of the nearby rocks. “The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get back to work!”
The problem about how safe it actually was to breathe in the air when in the realm of the dead had been accounted for, but if they had to waste the air tanks just to get back- well they wouldn’t get to have nearly the amount of time to actually explore on foot, let alone gathering samples. They could learn so much about the ectoplasmic terrors from the world they clawed out of, weaknesses they didn’t need to fear on Earth even! So to have their expedition, a trip that had been months in the making derailed like this in mere moments hurt. At least Jack could keep his eyes forward, his positive attitude the only thing keeping her from screaming from the absolute unfairness of it all. “Just run the best options past me before you open the hatch, okay darling?”
“You betcha!”
She was still going to enable the Fenton Child Safety Lock as a precaution, he could get a little over eager when he saw an opportunity. It was just a matter of what tools could be repurposed into a makeshift claw or skewer to actually keep hold of the rocks. What would be the smallest loss?
The sound of something hitting the roof of the speeder halted her thoughts, turning to look out of the windows, drawing up her hood in case they’d be fighting so soon. Even Jack had stopped with his mental calculations, pulling a weapon from under the seat. “Company already? Guess we’ll show em what for, eh honey?”
“Well it is the Ghost Zone, they’re probably braver here. Not that it’ll be any problem.” A little boasting could help keep morale up, even if the situation was less than ideal. Stranded with a ghost already trying to take advantage, typical.
“Well one little zap with this baby and it’ll scoot right on back!”
If the ghost could hear them, maybe it would be frightened off just by their voices. Whatever had hit them hadn’t shown itself near the window, or hit their vehicle again. It didn’t feel right. There might be no evidence for whatever it was lurking around, but sometimes you had to follow your intuition. Jack was inquisitive, but didn’t ask out loud as his wife stood to knock the ceiling herself.
“Sooo are we doing knock knock jokes, or do you need a tow?”
She should have known. Of all the ghosts, it would have to be the one that always managed to get her hackles up, pretending to be helpful so people trusted him. A ghost that even tried to have a human name to fit in, not that she’d ever call this thing ‘Danny’. It was an insult to her baby boy, quite frankly. “What are you up to now?”
“Asking you if you need this thing moved. Duh,” the ghost snorted, the metal clanking as he knocked it again. “Talking at you from the roof feels dumb, you gonna shoot if I go to the front?”
“Depends on what you do, ghost scum!” Jack had looked pensive for a moment, but spoke up quickly on spotting Maddie reaching for a notebook. He just had to give her time to think it over, and he was great at distractions.
“Is scum what you call all people who help you out, or am I just your favourite?” A white haired head appeared at the top of their window, looking down with an amused smirk at the pair. Still playing innocent when they were at a disadvantage.
“You’re a ghost ‘claiming’ to want to help.”
That earned a frown, though the ghost stopped half hiding to float in front of their stranded speeder. “Riiiight. Put it that way, whatever,” he paused, as if studying their faces. His green eyes lingered on the weapon, notably so even as he went back to jabbering. “I’ve got some stuff to do, but I can drag the s-that thing back to the portal. So?”
The hunters shared a glance, unsure how to handle it. Phantom liked to claim he liked humans and protecting them, but he was a ghost. There had to be something he wanted out of them in return. Or might get violent if refused in the wrong way. At least he shouldn’t be able to see the quickly scrawled message to Jack. ‘You play the doubtful one, I’ll pretend to trust him- it’ll underestimate us’
“As if, spooky! Jack Fenton doesn’t need any ghost’s help!”
The ghost bought the open hostility without a second thought, eyes rolling to a sky that wasn’t here. “Really? I heard tow trucks were expensive out of state! Can’t imagine the out of dimension costs.”
It was going to be difficult to stay civil when it would be so much easier to just demand the ghost stop playing around. “We’re listening. So what do you want?”
“Awwww Mads, we don’t need this punk’s help! He doesn’t even have toes!”
The passion Jack had put into his moping managed to baffle the ghost. “Wait, what? Of course I do! No, stop, why does that matter? I know tows and toes are different things! I’m not that bad of a student, sheesh.” He seemed quite thrown, which was good. If the ghost forgot what the plan had been he might just get lost.
“Yeah, and you don’t have either Phantom!” Her husband managed to keep from laughing, but the shake in his shoulders showed it was a near thing.
Phantom glanced down at the black wispy tail that made up his legs, muttering something. “Well okay I don’t right now, but I normally do!”
It was a bit fascinating that Jack had distracted the ghost from his goal so completely. They’d have to think about an invention that could replicate the effect. “Can we focus please? I already said I’d listen to what you wanted.”
“Oh! Right, sorry,” he coughed, a strangely human expression of embarrassment. “I don’t actually need anything? I just have some stuff to do so you’d need to wait a bit.”
Oh right. Sure, the most dangerous ghost in town wanted to help the ghost hunters that wanted to destroy him ‘just because’. Just wait here while he goes to get some friends to attack them! Honestly, did ghosts think they were stupid? “Then why not tell us when you’re done? We’re not moving very quickly.”
“Cus he wants to make us think we’re safe before WHAM! Outnumbered by cowardly ghosts!” Jack expressed her true feelings effortlessly. “Not that it’d help em!”
“No way, you think I’d leave you guys here where anyone can try something?” The ghost still seemed confused, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. “You guys are here to study or whatever anyway, right? So you can look around while I get my errands done. And you know, you don’t get attacked. Most of the little guys leave me alone.”
As if that was a surprise! A ghost of Phantom’s strength could destroy smaller and weaker entities without effort. Perhaps it was a subtle threat slipping through his mask of ‘helpful child’. The idea of going deeper into the Ghost Zone, completely at his mercy was...well absolutely idiotic. Even if they could probably overcome him...being able to still get some studies done would make it not a complete waste of a trip. “So you think it’s likely we’ll be attacked here, so close to the portal?”
“Yeah, by him!” Jack looked tempted to grab his weapon, but refrained. “So what if we say no, huh?”
“Then I guess you can float here? Up to you, I guess.”
It was strange, to see the cocky ghost a bit hesitant. Even if there was an obvious threat he wasn’t mentioning. “Well if you could pull the Speeder, you could take it even if we don’t want you to.”
“I think that’s called kidnapping.” Phantom’s cocky smirk returned “Which is weird, you’re not kids! Adultnapping? Nah, that sounds dumb.”
“Ah cut the innocent act, we’re not falling for it!”
“Hey, I said it’s up to you! Either you agree to come along and I get you back home, or I just leave you guys to do whatever you plan to do. Even if yes, I could totally just drag the ship anyway. I’m not, because I’m trying to help, remember?” A hint of frustration slid past the confidence at ‘remember’, but the ghost folding his arms behind his head as if kicking back to relax did defang most of the threat. “I don’t have all day here.”
“We don’t have all day either Phantom. We have family to get back to, and no idea how long you plan to be ‘on errands’.” Maddie pointed out, still unsure what they should do. Trusting him was stupid, but he had showed his hand. Refusal might be met with the same result anyway, but ‘agreeing’ might trick the ghost into thinking they fell for his ‘trustworthy’ act.
“Like an hour or two? Not too long.”
“Well I’d use my Fenton Stopwatch! So don’t think you can pretend it’s a shorter time than it is, ghost!”
“Yeah yeah, you do that D-Jack,” he stumbled over the ghost hunter’s name, but otherwise didn’t move from relaxing. “It’s not gonna kill you to trust me for a bit.”
Even though it very much could kill them. He really was a smug bit of ectoplasm, thinking he blended in with humans well enough to be considered one. “So only a few hours, and you won’t stop us from researching or taking samples? Or lead us to a trap?��
“If I wanted people to get threatened by ghosts, I could just take some days off. No trouble, cross my heart. I’d swear to die but I got the jump on that bit,” he snorted at his own joke, but otherwise left the family to consider.
It was just safer to say ‘yes’ so the ghost thought they were fools. It had nothing to do with wanting to salvage something out of this disaster of an expedition. “Yes. We’ll accept your help, this time.”
“And you aren’t getting any thanks until we’re home, got it?” Good, ghost hunter, bad ghost hunter. An easy enough trick. Even if she wished Jack was the ‘trusting’ one. Yelling would feel nice.
“Yeeeah, kinda expected that too. Rude.” The ghost only shrugged before flying up and out of sight. She half expected to hear the ghost grab the Speeder, but they only really noticed when they started moving. Moving very, very quickly.
She couldn’t help it, her curiosity tamped down some of the fear she should be feeling, pointing out interesting landmasses as they passed, Jack just as enthusiastic to discuss what caused them, if the ghost built them or they were simply generated when a ghost squirmed into existence. A great castle that seemed familiar, an island with some sort of skull as a decoration and thousands of doors. Most ghosts they only could get sparing glimpses at, even when carrying an entire vehicle the ghost boy was fast. Ridiculously so. She thought it was his small figure that contributed to how quickly the pest could move- how the ghost could just vanish out of range in moments. That most of the power behind his physical attacks came from the speed they were delivered with instead of raw strength. Clearly that was an incorrect hypothesis, moving this quickly and carrying so much extra weight without any real difficulty. They slowed near what seemed to be another castle, though it was much less foreboding looking then the other one.
That sinking dread returned after they landed. She had some landmarks, but this much distance would be a big ask to get back. That, and this castle seemed more...occupied, judging by some humanoid ghosts loitering near the gates. One even waved. To them, or the ghost carrying them?
“Okayyy so. Ground rules? Don’t shoot anyone. None of these guys even go through the portal, they’re not the fighting type. Other than that? Have fun, I guess?” He’d stopped floating, standing on the ground beside their stalled craft. He didn’t look as if preparing to fight, which is what she’d assumed the ghost meant by ‘errands’. So what was he up to?
“We won’t do anything if they don’t.” A lie, honestly, but the ghost nodded.
“Wait, what’s that stuff for?” White gloves pointed at the masks the ghost hunters were pulling from under the seats. “Like you can hear me, there’s air out here.”
“It might be safe for ghosts, but we aren’t ghosts.”
Phantom opened his mouth as if to protest before shutting it with a frown. Strange, it was hard to get him to shut up most of the time.
“Nice try, we’re not gonna choke on ghost air today, Phantom!” Jack chuckled, adjusting his mask before popping open the hatch.
“I wasn’t expecting you to- oh whatever. Just don’t embarrass me,” he sounded like a sulking kid, only glancing at them for a moment before kicking off the ground to fly closer to the castle. Off to fight whoever ‘owned’ this area, perhaps?
“Well look at that! Regular plants!” Jack shook her from her pondering, crouched over what looked like a tended to flower bed near the walls. “Well, ghost plants that aren’t trying to attack. Think we should sketch em for the kids?”
“Well Jazz has been more interested in ghosts lately, I suppose.” It was interesting, but she was more curious about the ghost meandering past the walls. They seemed docile, almost like people just walking and apparently talking with one another. Not attempting to fight for territory or resources. Perhaps they were just repeating the memories of their lives over and over? Yet none of them had reacted badly to Phantom zipping past either. A different breed of ghost, perhaps? Or ghosts often had ‘kings’ that kept the lesser ones from squabbling. The large brute of a ghost that stole the town had claimed to be a king of sorts, and this was another castle...but she didn’t want to test anything by getting their attention. They might only act savagely towards humans, being jealous of those still alive after all.
“Yeah, she has! Danno might not like em, but that goth chick he’s eyeing might like em too!” He was already sketching away, quickly getting the basics. He’d fill in the details from memory back home. “You want to try seeing if those ones talk? Not sure how the ghost kid thinks we could embarrass him, ha!”
“Oh he was probably just trying to insult us. He likes to pretend to be a teenager,” she waved that question away, double checking her weapon was easy to reach in case of an emergency. No reason to make their predicament worse by being unprepared. While still considering to go near those ghosts instead of safely observing from a distance. Jack’s enthusiasm was too infectious, really, but that’s how they made so many discoveries!
The ghosts didn’t object to her moving closer, but she kept off the busier paths to be safe. So many stalls of what seemed to be goods, clothing and paintings, rugs and nick knacks. Well, the ghosts didn’t need anything to live, so it would make sense for them to prioritize other items first, but the art was strange. What did the dead know of creativity? Were these all recreations of something found in life? No, some of the paintings had the green skies of the Ghost Zone, implying at least some ‘new’ thought. They were strange, very unlike the wild animals that often attacked the town, or the showy inhuman mimics that tried to claim world domination. They just looked like greener, more transparent people. Barely any of them even floated much. They’d need new categories, they broke too many rules that stayed true on Earth.
“Oh that’s a lovely shade of blue! I wish I could make something like it.” The voice echoed, but it wasn’t growling or mocking. In fact, the ghost woman who had paused beside the hunter was smiling warmly, despite the dead red eyes. “Are you just visiting for a bit?”
“We’re mostly stuck going wherever the ghost boy is taking us, our ship broke down,” Maddie struggled not to frown, her natural inclination to get away from the still potentially dangerous ghost strong with so many fights. She could tell it the truth, in a sense. Phantom was far more likely to be dangerous then this waif of a woman. How she could move in so many ruffles was baffling.
“Oh dear! Well if he’s any trouble you can let Dorthea know, she’s a caring ruler. A human helped her get her rightful throne back, so I’m sure she’d be happy to help!” The ghost tittered a little, as if expecting that to be obvious.
So the ghost did know she was human? Far more alarming was the idea some other human had been dragged this far from home, possibly trapped. Maybe this would turn into a rescue mission. Unless it was too late for them, a distinct possibility. “Oh really? How did that happen?”
“Oh I don’t really know the details, but it was a human that inspired our good Queen that she didn’t need to fear that tyrant and she could fight back. I wish I’d seen it!”
It was disquieting how human the ghost sounded, a friendly sort of gossip. If only she had a way to record it. “The human got back home after helping, right?”
“Well I assume so, she had no intentions of staying here very long, that’s for sure!” She laughed easily, apparently blind to Maddie’s confusion and apprehension, or just unable to see it past the mask and goggles. “I’m fairly sure Sir Phantom took her back, you could ask him.”
Sir? That town terrorizing scoundrel was respected around here? And had been taking humans out of the ghost zone? Probably because he made whoever it was get here in the first place, just to rescue them. Was that why he was here? To stage some new act with this ghost queen? “Right, I might do that.” Would she? This morning she hadn’t expected to talk to ghosts, let alone multiple.
“Oh! If you see any of those angry blobs you can just run back towards the guards and they’ll deal with it. It’s their job, and they’re quite good at it. I actually considered doing that job for a bit, but I like looking after the plants more. Maybe I’ll switch in a decade or two!” The ghost kept talking, apparently taking Maddie’s lack of further questions as permission to keep chattering.
“Can’t you deal with them yourself?” Attacking ghost blobs was something she knew about, and if this ghost was strong enough to mimic humans, shouldn’t it be able to deal with the much less sophisticated tactics of blobs?
“Me? Oh no, I’m not not trained. Do you still have lions on the other side? It would be like trying to fight one of those with a stick!” She laughed, but not unkindly.
“You’re both ghosts though, aren’t you?” Perhaps they differentiated themselves by name in the Ghost Zone? It would lend some evidence to the ‘different breeds’ of ghost hypothesis she was rapidly stringing together.
She tapped at her chin for a moment at the question. “I suppose we are, but they’re more like animals. They might have always been animals, or never alive at all! It’s perfectly safe here though, they usually fight more among themselves.”
Well that was fascinating. Some ghosts didn’t instinctively know how to fight and had to be taught? Yet didn’t consider themselves completely separated from the more animalistic ectoplasmic terrors. Perhaps the more ‘domestic’ setting here made the ghosts less feral and more reliant on their previous memories. Well, the ghost could be lying, but she couldn’t see the benefit she’d gain from deception here. “So you’re kind of stuck here then? We saw a lot of those outside of this place.”
“No no, we’ve got safer ways to travel than just flying around! Not all of us are that brave, dear. Though I don’t think I’d want to stay somewhere else very long anyway. Here it’s safe, all my friends are here and we have one of the largest markets in the whole Ghost Zone. Other ghosts come to us!” There was a hint of pride as she spoke about her ‘home’, gesturing over to some of the stalls Maddie hadn't had time to look at before getting interrupted. “I was really hoping to get something from the seven armed bloke over there, but he’s not very interested in my clothing. Maybe next time.”
Said ‘bloke’ had far too many eyes to go with the arms, and a collection of honestly terrifying little statues with strange designs that made her head hurt if she looked at it too long. A clear outsider to the more human ones, but not causing a stir. So much for constantly fighting out groups, but they barely had anything in common either! Not to mention engaging in some kind of simplistic trading. “So this happens often?”
“Pretty much. It’s fun to make new things, but you get bored of just your own stuff after a few centuries you know? So we swap and find new things.”
Well of course, it’s not like the ghosts needed to trade for something vital to existence. Swapping ‘things’ made more sense in that context. So why weren’t any trying to trade strength or favours? Or simply taking what they wanted? Was it related to having a queen? She had so many questions that knowing what ones needed to be asked was next to impossible. “I suppose you would. How can you tell if a ghost that comes is peaceful?”
“Asking!” She laughed again, apparently finding the question funny. So they didn’t deal with constant attacks from spectres like Phantom trying to ‘take over?’ Why?
“Oh geeze, I’m so sorry if she said anything about trying to-” Phantom’s voice interrupted her thoughts, the ghost suddenly floating beside the other ghost and sputtering.
“Sorry? She’s been perfectly lovely! Haven’t you- oh I’m so rude, I didn’t even get your name!” the ghost tisked at herself, once again strangely apologetic.
“Wait, she has?” His doubtful tone made the ghost hunter scowl. As if he had any room to judge them.
“We’re scientists, not uncontrollable monsters.” Like him. She was fairly sure he caught the implication when the boy muttered something she couldn’t hear.
“Cool. Anyway, got another stop, then I’ll get you two back home.” He still hovered, glancing between the two of them a few times. “Oh. Maddie, that’s her name.”
“Lovely speaking with you Maddie! Had a good trip back, I’m Guenivier if you’re ever in the area again,” she smiled and gave another wave before somehow drifting back into the crowd without displacing even a bit of that dress.
“Who said you can give out my name?” Maddie hissed, once certain the other ghost was out of earshot.
He leaned back on teenager mannerisms, scoffing and heading away. “Because she wanted to know and thinks you aren’t a total ghost hater? It’s not gonna hurt anything.”
“How can I know you don’t have a way to locate people by name?”
He was rolling his eyes again as if she was being ridiculous. “You live in a house with a giant glowing sign. Not exactly subtle.”
“That isn’t in the ghost zone.”
“It’s attached to the ghost zone, it totally counts.”
It really was like arguing with a teenager when he bantered on like this. “Just don’t do it again.”
“Yes ma’am. Sheesh.” He hopped on top of the speeder, kicking his heels against the side. “Hey Jack, you coming?”
“Coming!” he bellowed back, jogging over from the patch of plants she’d left him at. However, he wasn’t just carrying his notebook, but a folded glowing bit of cloth. Some sort of tapestry judging by all the stitching? “Just wanted to get a few more lines done-” he broke off after spotting his wife, apparently reminded that he shouldn’t be so chummy with the ghost. “I mean I leave when I want to, you can’t boss Fentons around!”
“Oh come onnn, can you pretend you don’t hate me for like five minutes? I’m not even doing anything!” Phantom complained, flopping backwards onto the Speeder. “You were totally having a good time”.
“How did you get that, dear?” Maddie chose to ignore their sulking captor and instead look at what Jack managed to gather besides sketches.
“Oh, one of the ghosties liked my pictures and asked to trade for one! So I gave em a page for this! We can study how they made it back home, neat huh?”
Apparently he hadn’t been too worried about it being a trap, but a picture he’d just sketched wasn’t a big ask for something that could teach them a lot about the ghosts in here, so it was a good trade nonetheless. “You did great sweetie. Just make sure to store it safely, just in case.”
“Already on it sweet cheeks!” He was indeed, already pulling out a large sample bag to store their find before opening the hatch again.
“Ew. I changed my mind, go back to threatening me. Sappy is worse.”
Well, at least the ghost regretted his actions a bit. He’d be more sorry if he tried anything, but this did just seem to be something to sooth that hero complex it had. So far, anyway. She was tempted to ask the ghost what it had been up to at the castle, but it didn’t really matter. He’d just lie anyway, he clearly wasn’t the same sort of ghost as the weaker ones back there.
“Ha, he crumples in the face of our love Madds!” Jack laughed, hugging his wife and they got comfortable back in the speeder. “You think he’d take us back home if I said how much I love ya?”
“I so don’t need to hear this.” He was muffled, apparently still flopped on the speeder. He didn’t add anything before the Speeder lifted from the ground and resumed speeding through the strange green expanse.
“Clearly he buys his own teenager delusion.” Maddie mused, content to rest against Jack and look through his sketches. “Did they seem strangely lifelike to you too?”
“Oh sure! They just talked and didn’t even seem interested in going to the human world! Even though one was very jealous of how bright my jumpsuit is.” He leaned a bit to flick a few pages forward. “I sketched a couple and got their names, so we can see if we can look em up. See if they’re similar to their old selves according to history and all.”
“That’s a good idea. I didn’t get a complete name, but apparently they have jobs? Not like the wilder ghosts, and they do have a queen…” she paused, remembering the ‘human’ Phantom apparently ‘helped home. “Hey! You did help someone home from the ghost zone before, did you?”
“Huh? Oh! Yeah, she’s back safe. Wasn’t even a whole day.” He sounded distracted, or at least surprised by the question.
It could be a valuable lead. That, and the human might need help after such an experience. Who knew how ecto contaminated they might be! “Who was it?”
“How should I know? Just because I’m in town a lot doesn’t mean I know everyone’s name.”
She frowned, glancing at Jack who only shrugged. So he hadn’t heard that story, only her. “You know ours.”
“Because you shout them at me and shoot at me a lot? Pretty easy to remember!”
“Ghost kid’s got a point.” Jack admitted, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll just find who it is ourselves! Just an extra project.”
“What, and just make their life weird again by bringing up ghost stuff? Leave em alone.”
Well now they absolutely had to look into it, if Phantom wasn’t keen on the idea. Better to let him think they agreed though. “True, it could just lead you back to them.”
“Hey! This is all you, not me!”
Jack chuckled. “You’re really good at riling him up. Almost sounds like our Danny like that, getting all touchy about fun family activities!”
“Well he probably copies behaviour from local teenagers,” she didn't like that comparison though. Their children were nothing like life destroying ghosts. It was better to turn her attention to the passing green and how the amount of doors seemed to dwindle as masses of ice started to become the most prominent detail. That made more sense, actually. Phantom had started using ice in addition to ectoblasts, if he came from somewhere with this sort of climate it seemed less out of place with his other abilities. Even if he was otherwise ill suited to snow and ice with how he insisted on looking like a kid.
The next stop felt more like a mistake, with only hills of untouched white powder and ice to see, but the crunch of snow below confirmed they were no longer moving. Good thing they came prepared with heated coats!
“Not a whole lot around here! If it wasn’t for all the green we could pretend we were in Alaska.” Jack chattered as he shrugged a coat on, still apparently too excited to look around to keep his suspicion up. “They don’t all like castles, or maybe it’s a hidden one!”
He better not be thinking Santa had an ice castle. That was probably what he was thinking of, but she didn’t really want to bring up their annual argument at the moment. He could be wrong today, there were more important things to do. “You do realize it’s a frozen wasteland you’ve stranded us on?”
“It’s not that cold.” Phantom objected, circling the Speeder idly.
“Easy for a ghost to say, you’re always cold ghost kid!”
He stopped at that, glancing back at Jack. “It's not that bad, is it?”
“Only because we brought warm clothing. Jumpsuits aren’t enough for the living.” Maddie huffed, looking at the snowfields to find anything worth looking at. The structures of ice were somewhat interesting, but not inherently ghostly.
“Well you guys can stay here, I guess.” The ghost bit at his lip, playing up the concern now that they pointed out a frozen wasteland was cold. Honestly, how did anyone fall for Phantom’s act if he made mistakes like this? “I don’t think Frostbite’s people come out this far…”
“Oh, are they dangerous? We can take any of your little ghostly pals!”
Phantom looked as if Jack suggested exploding a building. “No! Don’t fight any of them! They just look scary, okay? Just ignore them, if any show up.” He didn’t wait for a response before flying off this time, apparently in much more of a hurry this time.
“Sounds like he’s worried about what we can do to his little pals, huh?” Jack elbowed his wife with a grin. “Well, maybe we can find something weird about the ice here!”
It was better to try getting some of the ghost ice instead of doing nothing, though she doubted it would be very different from regular ice, beyond the ectocontamination. Now what would a ghost think is ‘scary looking’? He hadn’t given such a warning when close to all of the other ghosts, after all. It was a bit of a mystery, and none of the ice here had any identifying marks or hints of another odd little ghost ‘civilization’. ‘Frostbite’ wasn’t much of a name either, perhaps they were more like the wild sort that came to Amity?
“Oh hoh! Look at this!” Jack yelled out, pointing to something below him as he waved her over.
A large, clawed footprint left in the snow, and fairly deep. So something monstrous after all, as expected. “Maybe we can get a cast of it?” They had supplies for it, but she wasn’t certain if it would work in the ice correctly. The tracks didn’t go for long, but following them wasn’t a very tantalizing idea. Better to keep a distance and be well armed if they wanted to tangle with whatever left this. It wasn’t as distracting as the previous stop, but the sound of crunches increasing in volume had the couple back on edge and wary.
“Seriously, we should just go-”
It sounded like the ghost boy was near wherever the crunches were coming from, which didn’t improve her mood one iota.
“Nonsense! I have been asking to meet them for how long?” A deep, growling and carrying voice came in response as Maddie readied a weapon.
“Yeah, that’s the problem. You don’t want to, trust me.”
“Seems he doesn’t have a very high opinion of ghost hunters, eh Mads?” Jack was less noticeably readied, still half crouched near the footprint, but his hand hovered where a weapon was concealed. She focused on her breathing as the sound grew louder, eyes narrowed as she spotted a large figure cresting the nearby hill. With the little white haired ghost boy completely at ease near it. Nothing like his regular behaviour, let alone the talking. Why would this huge beast know of them?
“What did I say about not shooting people?” Phantom actually seemed to blush on seeing her holding the weapon, smacking his face. “Okay, you saw them, bye now!”
The large furred creature ignored how the smaller ghost pushed at their shoulder, instead waving with a horrific ice claw, bones gleaming from within as it seemed to rip at the very air. “Well our first meeting was hardly perfect either, I can manage.”
“Yeah but I can’t just pull a ‘won’t shoot a big yeti’ icicle out of their jumpsuits!”
For a human loving ghost, Phantom was certainly very concerned about this giant horned monster being harmed by ‘mere humans’. More proof of his act, at least. Though the large creature did have a cloak of some sort and clothing. He spoke well, if you ignored the fanged mouth and growls. A strange contradiction of appearance and intent. That wasn’t a normal thing for ghosts either, you could gather a decent amount about one by how they looked. So why was this one chatting and apparently interested in seeing two humans? “So, you’re the ‘Frostbite’ he mentioned?” She hazarded a guess, but wasn’t going to put the gun away.
It showed its fangs, maw wide and unnerving. “Yes, I am! It is an honour to meet you” The furry head bowed slightly, as if trying a sort of nod of respect. “Your work assisted the Great One in vanquishing Pariah Dark, we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“Please don’t call me that. Especially in front of them!” the green eyed ghost practically squawked, somehow flushing even harder when he didn’t even have blood.
Maddie’s mind almost flipped over from the sheer confusion of what this terrifying ghost said. They had ‘helped’ vanquish something? More likely, Phantom had stolen something. So why did this ghost still give them credit? That wasn’t even starting to touch why the ghost boy would be considered great in any aspect. “Assisted him? Do you mean with that ghost who took our town into the Ghost Zone?” She wasn’t sure if that was what the ‘king’ ghost was called, but it made more sense than anything else she could think of.
“Indeed. The King of All Ghosts would have sent the infinite realms into chaos and conflict. Of course we are grateful for your help in preventing that.”
“That’s when you stole the Ecto Skeleton!” Jack spoke up, no longer tense. “You never brought it back.”
“That’s not my fault, that thing almost wasted me! It was gone once I woke up!” The boy objected, but seemed to settle down when the larger ghost ruffled his hair. “I wanted to bring it back.”
“I’m sure now they understand how vitally important that technology was, for your world and ours.” The ghost’s yellow eyes watched them expectantly, the unnerving void of pointed daggers thankfully closed now.
“Well it did get Amity back where it belonged.” Losing the Ecto Skeleton had been a blow, but an acceptable one to get back to normal. The fact that more ghosts seemed to know and care about their part of it was somewhat unnerving. She very much doubted Phantom just ‘lost’ it either. Jack suffered from the demands of the suit, but the ghost was just ectoplasm and electricity. Quite unlikely he could be drained that much, it wasn’t meant for ghosts to use in the first place.
“Your world? Doesn’t the kid live here?” Jack asked, making his wife blink. She hadn’t noticed that odd phrasing.
“No, no. The Great One prefers the human world and his friends. How are they doing?”
He froze up, eyes flicking to the hunters and back to the yeti. “Fine. They’re great.” He darted closer to the two hunters, gesturing at them to move. “Okay let’s go.”
How much interacting was this ghost doing with humans to have ‘friends’ it told other ghosts about? They could be in danger, or used as targets! “No no, we’d love to hear about your friends.”
“Nope, you don’t, gotta get home right? Big hurry, don’t trust me, remember?” He was practically pleading with them.
Frostbite’s ears twitched as he tilted his head. “Don’t trust you? Surely they’re the ones who taught your friends how to drive that craft of yours?”
Phantom had the gall to turn invisible.
“We were unaware anyone other than us was using it, actually.” Maddie didn’t bother to keep the frost from her voice.
“Ah, well at least the good news is I already knew how to make a replacement battery for it when the Great One came asking for help.” His tail twitched, as one of the great claws scratched at his furry chest. “It should be good as new once you can install it.”
So not only was this ghost stealing technology and bringing humans to the ghost zone, it was teaching other ghosts how it worked! The second that ghost was in their grasp, he’d have some serious answering to do. “Do all of you call him that?” It was the only question she could ask without wishing to spit acid, quite frankly.
“All of the Far Frozen recognize him as such, but not all ghosts are the same. He should be proud of the title, a savour of two worlds.”
“Frostbite I’m begging you, stop! It’s embarrassing!” The ghost dropped his invisibility, still looking more like a flustered kid instead of the heroics seeking fame junkie he was.
“Well if it helps your relationship with these ghost hunters, I think it is important that they know.”
“Yeah no. Let’s not.”
It felt like there was something the two ghosts weren’t saying. That, and the fact Phantom didn’t seem to like being hailed as a hero here in the Ghost Zone didn’t make sense. Why all the grandstanding in Amity then?
“Well we’ll be glad for the lift home. You shouldn’t steal from us, kid.” Jack tried a stern approach, and the ghost actually flinched from the rebuke.
“You’re not the only ones who want to map this place out, that’s all,” he didn’t really seem to be answering them, more talking to himself before launching himself at the Speeder again. “You can shoot at me about it back home or whatever.”
“Travel safely! Do try and explore your other half more often, Great one. You’re always welcome here.” His great furry head watched them all easily, seeking out the ghost hunters eyes as well. "I understand you are less interested, but you are welcome to see the realities of my home as well. It may surprise you, in a good way."
She desperately wanted to ask what that monster of a ghost meant by that, but managed to hold her tongue. If all the ghosts here saw Phantom as some sort of godlike hero, chewing him out here wasn’t safe. Jack’s small nod of agreement and warm hug helped, but it couldn’t stop her mind churning. They’d seen and hurt so much, and none of it made any sense! This Frostbite just threw in several more wrenches in the works with only a few sentences, but with how agitated Phantom was getting now wasn’t the time to push their luck. Perhaps when the shoe was on the other foot, and the boy needed their assistance.
He didn’t speak up or grumble this time as they left the frozen land behind. Though that might be them as well,m sitting close together and considering the notes and samples they had taken. That and the huge list of questions Jack had scrawled down in the margins of a sketch of Frostbite. How could a ghost like Phantom truly manage to stay in the human world most of the time? Did it have to do with this ‘other half’ that ghost had mentioned? Would knowing what it was reveal a weakness in the ghost? So many questions, but no answers. Why had Phantom even let them speak to any ghosts, considering how badly he’d reacted to some of the information given? He couldn’t genuinely be wanting to help.
The inviting glow of the portal appeared sooner than either of them could expect, the ghost dropping the ship on the lab floor with a loud clunk.
“See? Home. No ‘evil plan’” he floated into view, and she was fairly sure he only did so to make those air quotes with his hands.
“So you say, ghost kid. Don’t think we won’t be checking for tricks!”
“Yeah sure,” he shrugged, grinning after a moment. “Oh hey, by the way, you do know what the Speeder is powered with, right?”
Maddie didn’t actually know how to take that question. “Of course we do, we built it!”
“Uh huh.” His grin widened as he kicked back, legs vanishing into that strange tail. “All you had to do was take the cover off. It’s the Ghost Zone! There’s ectoplasm everywhere! I just had Frostbite make a backup.”
...Had they really- They had. They’d been dragged around by a ghost for no reason at all! “Why you little-”
He kept laughing before turning and getting out of the way. “Thanks for flying with Phantom Zone Tours! I’m out.” A jaunty wave and he was gone, leaving two baffled ghost hunters behind.
“I think some fudge is in order after that!”
She couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe fudge could make sense of that whole affair. All that for a prank? It didn’t add up. They’d have a lot of work to do.
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Future
A/N: Yikes. I cried several times writing this. I'm very proud of how it turned out - I think it's one of my strongest pieces on the entire blog - but be warned: bring tissues. Also, Mozzie's quote is originally from Abraham Lincoln. Requested by @ladykeqing
Summary: In the wake of Neal's death, a regret haunts you.
Word Count: 1,964
Peter sat you down and told you in his home. Well… just June’s home, now. The way Mozzie had trailed behind him, for once wordless… His face looking ashen… A part of you had known even before Peter asked you to sit down.
“He told me to say he’s sorry,” Peter said, barely more than a whisper that somehow felt deafening to your brain. “And that he loves you more than you know.”
The room was suddenly stifling. It was more than just the emotions in the air, layering over each other into a thick, caustic fog. It was the darkening of shadows that stretched in from the glass doors, and the silence of the record player that drove deep into their eardrums to muffle the little sounds of life coming from each other. The penthouse was, in an instant, so tiny and deathly empty, and you wished so dearly that you’d been at your own apartment. Staying the weekend had seemed like such a great idea before you abruptly became the only resident.
For a few seconds, you had a mind to just stay put and let the shadows come and take over. To let the agonizing ache of loss engulf your entire heart and continue expanding until it was bigger than your body and you disappeared forever. All so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the records Neal would never again play and the table he would never again sit at. So you would never have to spend a last moment in the home of your lover before turning your back on it and, by extension, him.
Without him, there was nowhere to turn. The prospect of your remaining lifetime without your partner made your chest and throat tighten with another round of sobs. It all felt so dim. You tried to hold it back, but couldn’t last long before your hands were to your mouth and a strangled whimper was breaking from your lips.
Mozzie could have fooled you into thinking he hadn’t heard, so resolute he was in boring a hole into the rug with his stare. Peter looked towards you with deep brown eyes, solicitous and pleading at the same time. He was as stunned as you were – but where you were being crushed under the weight of isolation, at least Peter got to go home to El. You didn’t have anyone to go home to anymore. Hell, without Neal, did you even have a home at all?
You envied Mozzie. Really, you did. His Buddhist leanings might be a comfort to him, able to think of Neal’s absence as temporary, or his spirit as remaining around them in some way or form. But when you tried to imagine you could feel him still there, the encroaching shadows and silent record player and empty bed all drew together at once until you were drowning in the lack. It was as if your haywire senses were punishing you for thinking even for a moment that you could feel your loss as anything less than absolute. He was gone and the world was permanently less wonderful.
A gunshot. Neal hated guns so much. Maybe this was why.
Wait. No. Time didn’t work like that. Right? He couldn’t hate something for a reason that hadn’t happened yet.
Laughter that bordered on hysterical bubbled out of your throat as you anxiously covered your face, waiting for the mania to pass. Laughter was easier than sobs. It physically hurt less. Emotionally it was so much worse. You could feel the concerned eyes on you while you waited until your desperate giggles died, just like your partner.
“I never said,” you said, wresting the words out before cries – or worse, more laughs – forced themselves out instead. You looked down with shame and guilt. His last words to you were almost cruel. Tender in their meaning, but cruel in consequence – he would never know how deeply you cared for him. You hoped he did. Didn’t you show it all the time? But that was different from hearing the words out loud, and now not only were you going on without Neal, but you were going on carrying the burden of knowing you hadn’t been able to offer him the comfort of certainty in knowing he had been loved in life and would be grieved in death. “I never got to tell him I love him.”
The mere look that Peter gave you in response would have broken your heart if it hadn’t already been lying shattered somewhere between your stomach and the floor. It was as if he were imagining for himself not getting to tell Elizabeth how he felt, or worse, imagining how alone or afraid she might feel if she didn’t know there were somebody fighting for her and remembering her every day.
Sobs would come any moment now. Your throat was tighter than a string on a violin, and any minute you’d stop being able to breathe. In, out, you reminded yourself. Keep it together just a moment more. And then another moment after that. You couldn’t break down until you were alone. You didn’t know why you couldn’t break in front of Neal’s family, but didn’t have the energy to question it, either, not when you barely had the energy not to scream and weep into your hands.
“He knew.” Mozzie’s words were quiet but startling and said with all the confidence of Neal himself. “You didn’t have to say it.”
“But he deserved to hear.” Knowing it and hearing it were different games and Neal, for all his faults, deserved to hear it, too. “He deserved to come home. I don’t…” You lost your train of thought. Why were you talking about yourself when you weren’t the one whose brilliant life had been stolen? After a small shake of your head, you sniffed and shakily breathed out. “We had an entire future. And now there’s nothing left.”
You could see it passing in your imagination, all the little milestones that you’d come to anticipate. Content days at home, interspersed with adventures to his favorite places around the world, marked by marriage and birthdays and achievements and anniversaries. You’d never articulated them out loud, never even realized fully that you’d started to await those days, but now you saw them vanishing and you realized not only were you having to grieve for the best man you’d ever known, but you’d also have to grieve for the missed experiences and joys that he had lost, and the shared life that you had to give up on, as well.
Mozzie finally looked up to you and you noticed that his eyes were puffy and red behind his glasses. You didn’t even know someone could cry that silently. “The best thing about the future,” he quoted, slow and weighty, probably to keep his own voice level. “Is that it comes one day at a time.”
The comfort was meaningless to you. One day at a time was worthwhile when it was endless days of love and companionship. When that was gone, it was just day after day of being adrift with nothing to hold onto.
You sniffed again and replied in a surprisingly even voice, “My future is laying in the morgue.”
~Future~
Leaving Y/N was one of the hardest things Mozzie had ever done, and he had a lot of challenges and dubious decisions in his past. Leaving her to wallow and suffer rubbed him in every wrong way possible, except for the one where it meant – at least for now – that she would be safe. He didn’t think, if he stayed, that he would be able to hold back from blurting out the truth. He couldn’t even look at her for fear of spilling. Not once her tears started. He couldn’t watch his friend, and his best friend’s love at that, weep with agony she didn’t need to feel.
Neal begged to differ, though Mozzie knew that it tore his heart in two to hear her voice over the long-distance connection. When Mozzie was sure the suit was out of earshot, and that Y/N and June had both stayed inside, he lifted his phone from his pocket and breathed heavily in the cold December air that seemed to burn his lungs.
“Did you hear all that?” He asked, impressively steady and managing to get his criticism and support across with his tone simultaneously.
He took off his glasses, thankful Neal couldn’t see that he, too, needed to wipe his eyes dry. Alive was good. Alive but far away and unreachable – at least for the foreseeable future – was still painful.
“I did,” Neal confirmed, voice and heart both heavy somewhere at least a thousand miles away. “I wish…” Neal trailed off, and Mozzie wholly believed that he also needed a moment to compose himself. Why either of them bothered pretending not to cry, he didn’t understand, but they had already dedicated themselves to the farce. “She’s safer this way. If she looks for me, we’re all in danger.”
“If you let this go on, she will never forgive you.” Mozzie warned, thinking about the broken look on your face. It had been like watching a dropped plate shatter in slow motion to see the cracks begin to appear before your very spirit seemed to splinter. Then he thought about how desperately you wished Neal knew you loved him, and he thought maybe there was a chance that desperate love would override the anger. He amended, “Or, if she does, it’ll never be the same.”
“I know.” Neal agreed readily but with a quiver to his voice. “I want to come home, but not if it means visiting her grave.”
“The cautious way it is.” Mozzie put his glasses back on his face, bravely shoring up his willpower. “I can’t know where you are, and she can’t know you’re out there.”
“Keep an eye on her for me.”His voice was full of sorrow and longing.
“Of course.” Neal didn’t even need to ask. If there came a time when the Panthers were dealt with and Neal could – well, if not return home, at least be reunited with Y/N somewhere without an extradition treaty, Mozzie would be the first to set it in motion. “Be well, mon frére.”
“You, too, Moz.”
The line went dead.
~Future~
Approximately four thousand miles away, on a windy beach, Neal stood barefoot in the dark, watching the light from the moon reflect off the choppy, shallow surf. The breeze drifted through his hair and bit across his face with the sting of northern weather.
He looked down at the open phone in his hand, fighting every feeling in him to turn it back on and beg Mozzie to take the phone back up to his former penthouse. Or, worse, to turn his whole body around and get on a ferry to the mainland, and fly back to New York as fast as possible to hold you in his arms. The heartbreak in your voice had been almost too much for him to bear. It would have been, if not for his terror of being reckless and selfish and letting you pay the price.
He had known you loved him, and because he loved you so unbelievably much in return, he couldn’t go home. Not yet. He would work on it from afar, where no one knew he was breathing, much less could trace him back to his darling. One day, if he were incredibly lucky, he could come home and you would still have space for him in your heart and mind. For now, he would have to settle on replaying your words in his head.
I love you, too.
Neal hurled the phone out into the ocean.
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rocorambles · 4 years ago
Text
It's Always Been You
Pairing: Semi x Reader
Genre: SFW, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff (I swear it’s more fluff than hurt/comfort), Getting together
Summary: You’ve always known Semi was your first choice. Now you just need to convince HIM that it’s true. Easier said than done.
Prompt: “When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when?”
A/N: This is my contribution for the HQHQ SFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Also this is an AU where the boy’s and girl’s volleyball teams practice in the same gym. Just go with it. LOL Please and thank you.) Thank you for beta-ing @sawamooora~
There’s a certain sense of pride and anxiety that comes from being accepted to Shiratorizawa as a student athlete. Pride from knowing your athletic prowess has been recognized as being at least notable. Anxiety from not knowing if that’s all it’ll amount to, talent that’s forced to remain seated on a bench as other, even more capable athletes surpass and outrank you. But as wide-eyed first years, Semi and you don’t feel that full weight yet, not as you watch and learn from your senpais in awe, and it’s that curiosity, that love for the sport that brings you two together.
Semi’s always been on the quieter side, but when he sees you in the corner of the girl’s side of the gym all by yourself, practicing setting a volleyball against the wall, recognizing you as a fellow newbie from his class, he takes his chance. It’s an easy friendship, one that easily crosses from the court, to the classroom, to after school study sessions and hangouts. And even though it sucks to still be set aside on the bench, left to cheer on your upperclassmen while the both of you hone your skills, it brings both of you comfort that you’re not alone, that you have someone else cheering you on, growing and improving right alongside you.
It’s hard work trying to stand out among all the hopeful first years at Shiratorizawa, but the endless hours of hard work and encouragement you give each other, the shouts to keep on going, the careful bandaging of each other’s fingers before and after grueling practices, it all pays off. The two of you proudly stand side by side in your second year as your parents snap a photo of both of you donning your brand new team uniforms, marking you as starting players.
The adrenaline of the cheering audience, the exhilaration of being in a real game, it’s everything both of you have wished for and more. But through the excitement, a nagging worry tugs at Semi as he watches the new rookie setter, Shirabu Kenjirou, from afar.
There’s nothing wrong with Shirabu. He’s a smart kid, albeit a little short tempered and rude at times, but aren’t they all in high school? But it’s not his attitude, not even his shitty haircut that bothers Semi. It’s the ease with which he connects with the rest of the team, the natural skill and talent he possesses, the way Coach Washijou stares at the younger male with interest, that has Semi striving harder, his desire to stand out and prove himself only hindering him and the team more.
And reality comes crashing down around him one day as a shrill whistle jars him from his razor sharp focus, the paddle with his number being held up by Shirabu making his heart drop to his stomach as he’s subbed out, face heating with humiliation and embarrassment as his teammates eagerly high five and clap the younger setter on the court, welcoming him into the game.
Just like that, he’s been replaced.
It hurts, but he knows it’s to be expected. He had seen it coming, and acknowledges that it’s the better decision for the team. But that doesn’t make it sting any less. And he watches with steely eyes at how effortlessly Shirabu melds in with the team, the ball easily and smoothly connecting.
He thinks this is the worst of the heartache, vowing that he’ll just work harder, at least be a useful pinch server. He’ll be the best setter he can when he’s needed. But what he isn’t expecting is the lancing stab to his heart when he sees you rush over to Shirabu after the match is over, the way you’re practically bouncing on the soles of your feet as you fawn over the younger setter, congratulating him on his first game, complimenting him on a job well done, not even sparing a glance in his direction. In your defense, you do make your way towards him eventually, but he can feel the pity in your eyes, the way you approach him as if he’s a wounded animal, and he slaps your hand away before it can come in contact with his arms, storming off, leaving you gaping in his wake.
The situation was poorly handled and he knows he owes an apology at minimum, but those words get stuck in his throat when he spies you chatting one-on-one with Shirabu at practice the next day while the boy’s and girl’s teams share the same gym. It’s vaguely reminiscent of watching a horror film and despite the way he freezes, heart clenching, Semi can’t tear his eyes away as you demonstrate some setting techniques and drills to Shirabu. And when your bandaged fingers carefully wrap around the younger male’s forearms to adjust his posture, Semi rushes off, unable to bear watching how once again, he’s become irrelevant.
He wonders— hopes that it’s just a one off thing, that things will return to how they once were. But they don’t, and he watches as Shirabu and you laugh and joke, high fiving and cheering each other on as you help one another practice, time and time again. He tries his best to ignore it, gritting his teeth and using more strength than necessary in his practice serves, brushing off the concerned questions from even usually stoic Ushijima. But it all comes to a head when Shirabu is absent from practice one day and you cheerfully walk up to him like no time has passed, like you hadn’t turned around and instantly betrayed him for a better version of himself, grinning as you ask him to practice with you.
There’s a sick satisfaction in how quickly your smile disappears, the flash of hurt in your eyes when he sneers at you, thanking you for “gracing him with your presence”.
“Glad you could find it in yourself to make some time for me. Thought you’d skip out on practice to take care of your little boyfriend.”
“What-”
The whole gym stares at both of you as his harsh voice echoes throughout the area.
“When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when?!”
Semi and you don’t talk to each other for the rest of that year, although not for quite the same reasons.
For Semi, it’s a completely burned bridge and, as good as seeing you feel some of the same pain he feels is, there’s an emptiness inside of him as he goes home that night. The belief that he’s ruined everything between the two of you heavily weighs inside of him.
For you, it’s a medley of hurt, shock, and confusion. You give Semi the time he needs to cool off, give yourself the time and space to ponder and think into the late and early hours of each night, wondering where everything went wrong.
Shirabu? Boyfriend? How could Semi possibly even believe that?
Being an upperclassman means mentorship and guidance. So when Shirabu had come up to you one day after he became the boy’s team’s starting setter, you had graciously offered up some tips, let him know that you’d practice with him if you were free, encouraged him. You had missed your easy banters with Semi, missed how in sync and in tune with each other you were. But how could you turn away an underclassman in need?
Yet, the more you think about it, the more you really try and understand Semi’s perspective, guilt gnaws at you, clawing at your heart.
Had you meant to neglect your closest friend? An emphatic no.
Could you see why he had felt abandoned? ...A begrudging maybe laced with remorse.
Do you want him back in your life? A resounding yes.
You know it’ll be hard work to regain Semi’s trust, know he has a stubbornness that’s hard to crack — especially when it’s been hot glued together by seeming betrayal. But you’re just as determined, just as headstrong, and to both the dismay and amusement of both your teams and classmates, you twirl together in a chaotic dance.
To say he’s caught off guard when you knock on his door one morning to walk with him to school is an understatement, but when realization comes crashing down on him, he scowls, and his parents watch while shaking their heads and hiding a laugh as you scramble to keep up with him while he pointedly ignores you and speed walks a few steps ahead of you.
His mom points out to his father the way their son slows down just the tiniest bit when you stumble in your haste to catch up.
Ushijima watches in uncomfortable confusion as you sit with them at lunch, plopping down in the empty seat beside Semi, chatting away at your old friend despite the way Semi resolutely stays silent, not even sparing you a glance.
But if the ace notices the way Semi doesn’t snap at you or pull his bento box from you as you grab a piece of fish Semi’s mom had cooked, he doesn’t say anything.
Shirabu pouts when you completely bypass him, fondly ruffling his hair as you stride towards Semi, volleyball in hand at practice. And both your teams watch in exasperation and fascination at the unintentional comedy show the two of you provide as you waddle after Semi like a baby duck following its mother, quacking your head off and never giving up even though Semi pretends he doesn’t see you in the corner of his eyes, mimicking every drill he does.
Coach Washijo and your coach wonder if they should slap both of you on the heads for this madness, but when they observe the way Semi painstakingly slows down and exaggerates his form when you struggle with an exercise, they roll their eyes, turning their attention to the other players lounging around.
Yet as amusing as it is, all shows must come to an end and your grand finale arrives with the devastating loss against Karasuno, the chances of going to Nationals again ruined just like that for the third-years.
Even for you, a bystander in the audience, just another spectator in the crowd, it’s a hard pill to swallow. Unshed tears glisten in your eyes when you see the years of hard work they’ve all put into the sport go down the drain, the slump of Semi’s shoulders as they walk off the court. You can’t even begin to imagine how the players themselves are feeling, don’t know a single word you could say to make this alright. Yet your legs are sprinting, wobbling and shaking in their frantic need to comfort your long-time friend, to try and soothe him, to tell him how proud you are of him, how this doesn’t change how you think and feel about him.
It’s more than a little awkward, panting to catch your breath as the entire dejected team stares at your sudden appearance in confusion. But Tendou’s always been a little quicker, a little sharper than the rest, and he grins, practically shoving Semi in your direction, playfully waving farewell at both of you before slamming the locker room doors shut before Semi can process what’s happened.
There’s a tense silence as you try and wrap your suddenly dry mouth around words.
“I’m sorry for your loss-”
You jolt at the cold scoff, the way Semi quickly spins on his heel, set on re-entering the locker rooms, turning his back on you.
“I don’t want to hear that from you. Go comfort your little boyfriend. I’m sure our star setter would eat those sweet words right up-”
“SHUT UP!”
This time it’s Semi’s turn to clamp his mouth shut in shock, hesitantly turning around, eyes wide as you storm towards him, jabbing your index finger into his chest.
“I swear to God, if you mention Shirabu’s name one more time while I’m talking to you, I’m going to muzzle you until you can’t say ANYTHING.”
(If either of you hear Tendou’s giggle from behind the closed doors, neither of you mention it.)
“I came to talk to YOU because I miss YOU. I like YOU. And if you could take just a minute to get your head out of your ass, you’d know that you’ve always been and always will be my first choice.”
Your chest is heaving, blood rushing in your ears from the exertion of your passion. But the reality of your accidental confession comes crashing down around you and your face heats in embarrassment, heart plummeting at the way Semi just gapes at you, speechless. You turn to rush away, mortification triggering your flight response. But a gentle, but firm tug on the hem of your shirt keeps you still.
You brace yourself for the rejection you know is coming, nervously turning around, slowly lifting your head to meet Semi’s gaze. But your heart flutters at the hope and disbelief in his eyes.
“But I thought...You and Shirabu- OW!”
You roll your eyes, a satisfied smirk on your face at the way he gingerly rubs his head, shooting you an accusing look.
“I did warn you about mentioning him, didn’t I?”
But before he can open his mouth to retort, you gently peck him on the cheek, giggling at the flabbergasted and stunned expression on his face, cooing at the faint blush that radiates across his skin.
“Hurry up and get your things. You owe me a popsicle for being such an ass this past year.”
There’s a lot more cheering and celebration in the locker room than there should be for a team that’s just lost their shot at Nationals as Semi re-enters the space, his already packed bag (courtesy of Ushijima) shoved into his arms by a gleeful red-head.
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mollymauktealeef · 3 years ago
Note
uhm, for your prompts: geraskier, with jaskier hiding geralt (and maybe ciri) from nilfgaard in plain sight, like. without magic, he manages to make the soldiers go away with empty hands? thank you!
sorry this took longer than expected! i haven’t been feeling very well recently so it got left alone for a while. hope you like it though!
warning/s: none
(ao3)
“You there!”
“Oh fuck,” Jaskier mutters sharply recognising the no nonsense tone of a solider and feeling the dread settle in his gut like a block of ice. 
Geralt’s fingers twitch at his side, his swords are sadly tucked away under Roach’s blanket just under Ciri’s leg for safekeeping as she sits astride the saddle. 
They’d been reluctantly placed there - at Jaskier’s suggestion - so they could move through town unhindered by locals looking for a Witcher’s aid or at least so the trio could draw a little less attention than they normally would. Something they might have gotten away with if Geralt hadn’t been sour about hiding his swords so much he’d childishly left down his hood. Revealing his rather distinctive and famous white hair for all the land to see.  
And now there are soldiers.
So the idea of going incognito had clearly failed in it’s execution and now Geralt is without his weapons in easy reach as the squelch of many heavy boots marching through the mud approach them from behind. 
Jaskier watches out of the corner of his eye as Geralt’s hand releases the reins for Roach’s bridle and skims along her flank to the hidden pommel slowly. Jaskier shakes his head in warning and thankfully the Witcher listens, stilling his hand. 
The last thing they need is more attention and Geralt beheading the local guardsmen would be like sending up a flare for Nilfgaard. 
Jaskier chews on his lip, racking his brain for a way out of their predicament. He see’s Geralt’s hand move again, not for the swords this time but to rest on Ciri’s shaking knee in comfort. The princess huddles under her cloak, shrinking away from the danger approaching them and Jaskier’s heart aches for her. The lingering trauma of being hunted has left a stain on the once happy princess that Jaskier and Geralt have tried their best to erase. But situations like these always undo that hard work in moments.  
Jaskier sighs at the loss of progress shrinking deeper into the folds of her cloak and decides on a course of action, one that might just avoid darkening that stain on Ciri’s heart. 
“Oi! You deaf?” Another voice yells and Jaskier straightens his spine and prepares to dazzle his audience into submission. 
He spins round dramatically, plastering a wide happy grin across his face. It’s not his most eye-catching outfit but he should be able to draw attention away from the Witcher and his child surprise well enough. Presentation is key for misdirection after all. 
Jaskier glances over the small patrol quickly, filing away the small details that he can use to his advantage. Just like any other ballroom or tavern he’s stepped foot in. Reading the room is how you own it and Jaskier wouldn’t be a famous bard if he couldn’t quickly and effectively discern the lay of the land. A loud tavern full of boisterous laughter needs dance music and bawdy songs, a noble wedding with dignified guests needs jaunty jigs with easy beats to dance to and when enough wine has been drunk, a few romantic epics to get everyone in the mood. The stage is a little different but the details are the same. 
He silently curses as he recognises the dark armour and golden sun stretching across it and prays to whatever deity likes Geralt in one piece in the vain hope that things will go smoothly. But for now, it's up to him and every skill he’s honed at every banquet and party he’s ever been to, to get them through this peacefully. 
“Fine gentlemen, what can I aid such noble soldiers with today?” he greets loudly as he skips forward putting himself between the approaching soldiers and Geralt. A few of the men flinch at his volume. Jaskier notes the overly red cheeks and bloodshot eyes, the slight sway in their stance. Too much patrolling the tavern rather than the streets and very recently too.  
He has to play this right. Be loud and obnoxious and they’ll want to get rid of him quickly to ease their aching heads. Too much though and he runs the risk of raising questions. It’ll be a fine line to tread, a thin tightrope between freedom and a noose but it’s something he’s managed before and for far lesser stakes. 
“Your friend, where does he hail from?” The Captain asks shrewdly, eyeing Geralt’s exposed white hair with narrowed eyes. Jaskier rocks on his heels full of nervous energy. 
“My cousin you mean? Well he and his daughter come from Lettenhove of course! As do I,” Jaskier bows deeply, throwing as much theatricality into his performance as possible, “Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. A pleasure to meet you, good sir!”
He doesn’t often drag out his nobility but the situation calls for it. Perhaps enough for the men to back off, in fear of upsetting nobility. 
“And your...cousin’s white hair? A familial trait?” The captain asks skeptically. His title isn’t enough to brush away their questions but there is a touch more hesitancy than before so Jaskier counts it in his favour.  He still grimaces a little and racks his brain for a plausible lie to help them escape the situation with as little screaming and entrails as possible. Tiny streams in deep forests are not ideal for removing Nilfgaardian guts from a Witcher’s hair after all and after this fiasco getting Geralt to agree to enter any form of civilisation will be a nightmare. 
So Jaskier does what he does best. 
He tells a story. 
He lets his face drop into a more serious expression and sidles up closer, a little too close for comfort, for a not so much conspiratorial whisper, “No, no, my good sir. Not at all. You see, it's such a terrible thing. Truly terrible. A curse.”
At least two of the men take an involuntary step back as though such a thing could be catching. Good, Jaskier thinks snidely, superstitious morons swallow a lie father easier than a wise man. 
“Twas laid upon him by a spiteful sorceress. He’s quite sensitive over the whole thing as I’m sure you can imagine,” Jaskier placed a hand over his heart as he hammed up the performance a degree or two, “My poor dear sweet cousin spurned the witches advances you see, his heart already belonged to another. Fiona’s mother, she hailed from Nilfgaard, such a sweet woman. Not that it mattered to the spiteful witch! The sorceress was quite enraged by it all and so cursed my poor cousin to bear the likeness of the ugliest creature she knew, a Witcher.”
Jaskier winces internally and sends a silent apology to Geralt and hopes the man won’t take too much offence but there’s no other option for them. 
“How unfortunate,” one of the men comments in a heartfelt manner and Jaskier dabs at his dry eye in agreement.
“Yes it is and such happenstance that we should be looking for a Witcher,” the Captain says, unconvinced. But Jaskier has the rest of his audience on tenterhooks and a crowd can sway a single mind.
He scoff’s loudly and slams his hands onto his hips. 
“Nothing but trouble I say, for we’ve been stopped by every knight and good soldier from here to the Pontar! It’s made our journey to Oxenfurt doubly long and I’m due to begin teaching next week! The delay!” Jaskier wails dramatically and the men collectively wince at his volume and shrillness, “Thankfully with my tenured position the faculty will be most forgiving of my lateness! But truly it has been nothing but trouble!”
“Hmm,” the Captain wavers and Jaskier pushes his advantage, leaning in a touch too far again. 
“I shall tell you good sir the best way to tell a Witcher from my unfortunate cousin is the swords, for Witcher’s carry two on their backs and my dear sweet cousin can only swing a pitchfork!”
“Viscount’s right Captain, no swords,” one of the men speaks up and they all turn to look at Geralt’s back, covered in a muddy cape but bereft of the notable twin swords. 
“He could have thrown them,” the Captain suggests but quietly, not fully believing his own words and Jaskier tries not to let his relief show. 
“Thrown them?! Why my dear Captain, that would be a waste of fine silver and steel! Who in their right mind would throw away a silver sword! Pah! A fool, that’s who!” 
The Captain ruminates for a few moments and then nods, “Right you are, carry on m’lord.”
Jaskier’s knees feel a little weak as the men shuffle round and begin their march back up the street they came. He waves them off jauntily despite the nausea swirling in his gut. 
“Many blessings to you and safe journey my good men!”
As soon as the men are out of sight Jaskier stumbles as the relief falls on him like a ton of bricks. Geralt grips his bicep, pulling him back up as he stares down the street after the patrol. 
“Gone?” Jaskier asks and Geralt nods. 
“Thank Melitele,” Jaskier exhales and drops his head against Geralt’s shoulder heavily. 
“Ugliest creatures?” Geralt asks and Jaskier groans.
“Darling I apologise wholeheartedly for such a lie but how else was I to excuse your appearance?”
Geralt snorts, thankfully with more amusement than anger, “Good thinking.”
“Thank you love but might I suggest putting several fields between us and them before more questions are asked?” Jaskier points out and Geralt wraps an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, squeezing him close for a moment before letting him stand on his own steadying legs. 
Geralt takes Roach’s reins once more as Jaskier falls into step next to him, he spares a glance over his shoulder at the near empty street behind them and hopes they can put enough road between the patrol and them before nightfall to breathe a little easier. 
“Are you really a viscount Jaskier?” Ciri questions quietly, hunched over under her heavy cape atop Roach. Jaskier startles at the sudden question but settles into a sardonic smile.
“Unfortunately so my darling, though the title does have its uses here and there.”
Ciri thankfully doesn’t press the issue as she flicks her gaze over her shoulder worridily. More concerned with the soldiers than his checkered past. 
“I didn’t think they’d leave so easily,” she mumbles and Jaskier reaches over to pat her leg softly. 
“Fear not my dear, they were easy to fool and won’t be following us anytime soon.”
“How can you be so sure?” Ciri asks, her tone skeptical and a little sharp. A princess on the run yes, but still a princess and one growing from a child into a woman and not shy about demanding she be treated as such. Jaskier chuckles. 
“Simple. I saw all I needed to, to lead them astray. I’ll teach you how to read men like open books soon enough darling,” Jaskier winks and Ciri worried at her bottom lip for a few quiet moments.
“Teach me now?” 
Jaskier shares a glance with Geralt, raising an eyebrow up in question and Geralt simply nods his permission. Well if his Witcher is okay with it then who is he to argue giving the young exiled princess another knife in her growing arsenal. 
“Very well, what did you notice about them?” 
She ponders for a moment, “There weren’t that many?” Ciri offers hesitantly. Jaskier beams encouragingly. 
“Well spotted! A small patrol left in an unremarkable town. Tells us quite a bit. These fools aren’t high on the pecking order. They aren’t given more responsibility or better yet aren’t trusted with more,” Jaskier explains and Ciri leans forward in rapt attention. “What else could you see?” 
“They hesitated,” Geralt says and Jaskier turns his attention on the Witcher’s soft smile. 
“Very good my love,” Jaskier pecks Geralt’s cheek in reward, earning a giggle from Ciri. 
“That matters?” she asks. 
“Indeed, a lack of confidence speaks to their inexperience or perhaps they’ve acted hastily in the past and been reprimanded making them hesitant to act similarly again,” Jaskier explains, falling into his old teaching habits easily. 
“What else did you see,” Ciri questions curiously and Jaskier hums thoughtfully. 
“Dented armour that hasn’t yet been fixed, means coin is tight or flowing elsewhere. Mud caked into clothes and bulging chest plates. These men have become lazy and spend more nights in a tavern than marching around town. Ruddy cheeks and bloodshot eyes tell me they enjoy their drink, a bit too much most likely. Given the hour it was either a heavy night of drinking with a spectacular hangover or they’ve just come from the tavern. Whichever it is, their minds and body long for beds not battle and that my fair girl is where you can take advantage,” Jaskier lists and Ciri looks suitably impressed with his observations. 
“Enough to confuse them?”
“Perhaps enough to lose them in a winding tale with dramatic flair,” Jaskier shrugs, remembering many a glazed drunken gaze and how he used it to his advantage in the past. 
“The loudness helped too,” Geralt offers slyly and Ciri laughs as Jaskier pretends to take offence though he preens at the small but fond smile on his Witcher’s face and the ease settling around Ciri’s shoulders once more. 
“Nothing makes a drunken soldier recoil quicker than a loud bright bard,” Jaskier winks.
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osakaso5 · 3 years ago
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Haruka Isumi Twelve Hits! Rabbit TV Part 1: Twelve Hits!
Part 2 | Part 3 
Haruka Isumi: "RADIO STATION Twelve Hits"?
Torao Mido: Ah... Isn't that the radio show IDOLiSH7 was on last year?
Minami Natsume: TRIGGER and Re:vale also participated in it.
Toma Inumaru: That's right! And we're gonna be on Twelve Hits! this year!
Torao Mido: Hmm.
Toma Inumaru: Why dont you look more interested!?
Torao Mido: It's not like we haven't done a bunch of radio shows before, right? If anything, you're a little too excited.
Toma Inumaru: Hold on... This is Twelve Hits! we're talking about! The famous radio show practically everyone in Japan’s heard of!
Toma Inumaru: It's been on air ever since we were kids, so you've got to have listened to it at least once, right?
Haruka Isumi: Nope. I like RabbiTube better, anyway.
Torao Mido: Haha, you're such a modern kid. Not that I've listened to it, either.
Toma Inumaru: You've gotta be kidding me!
Minami Natsume: I've listened to it. It's a monthly broadcast that has a new host each time.
Minami Natsume: I even appeared in it once when I was still a child actor.
Toma Inumaru: Seriously, Mina..!? That's awesome..!
Toma Inumaru: I've sent a couple messages to it, but they never got read on air. ...So you've already been on it, huh..!
Minami Natsume: Oh dear. If you open your eyes so wide, they'll fall out.
Minami Natsume: Though I must say, I like being gazed at so intensely that it might result in your loss of sight.
Haruka Isumi: Eek... Don't say scary stuff like that..!
Torao Mido: I see. In other words, this radio show is amazing enough that some people would even sacrifice their precious eyes for it.
Toma Inumaru: ...Ahem. In any case, we've got a really cool job ahead of us!
Toma Inumaru: The shows from last year were a lot of fun, too!
Torao Mido: You listened to them?
Minami Natsume: So, you listened to them.
Haruka Isumi: You did?
Toma Inumaru: S-should I not have..? Why are you all looking at me like that!?
Torao Mido: No reason.
Haruka Isumi: No reason?
Minami Natsume: No reason in particular.
Toma Inumaru: You three always work together perfectly at times like these...
Minami Natsume: I was simply commending you for having a genuine interest in even the hosts   who weren't your friend, Nanase-san, without so much as gathering intel on them.
Torao Mido: Hmph. Nothing we could've done about that. Toma wants to be friends with those guys. Probably because he's not satisfied with us.
Haruka Isumi: Torao, stop sulking like a little kid. He's not gonna understand that you want him to pay more attention to you unless you tell him.
Torao Mido: I'm not sulking. I was just pointing out that he goes on and on about people other than us.
Toma Inumaru: ...I just thought it looked fun, the way they were giving each other requests for the show... I kinda wanted to try it, too...
Toma Inumaru: Listening to them made me think about how fun it'd be to do that with you guys!
Torao Mido: Oh..?
Haruka Isumi: Hmm..?
Minami Natsume: So, you want us to complete requests for you.
Toma Inumaru: That's right! Some of them could get pretty crazy and extreme, but it just seemed like something members of the same group do together!
Haruka Isumi: Yeah... I guess Tenn Kujo seemed pretty happy when he got a request from his little brother.
Toma Inumaru: Yep. So you did listen to it, after all!
Haruka Isumi: Huh? Ah..!
Haruka Isumi: N-no I didn't! I just happened to hear it from a car radio on my way somehwere.
Toma Inumaru: If you already know what the show's like, then that makes things easier! Apparently we'll also get requests from the listeners.
Toma Inumaru: Make sure to come up with good ones!
Minami Natsume: Very well. You'll answer anything, won't you?
Torao Mido: Feels nice to be on the asking end of a relationship for once.
Haruka Isumi: Let's rebel like we always do, even on radio! 
- - - -
Toma Inumaru: Alright, everyone's here. Time to start brainstorming requests for Haru!
Minami Natsume: Yes indeed. I've come up with a request that should fit Isumi-san quite well.
Torao Mido: That's one hell of a smile, Minami. Is your idea really that good?
Minami Natsume: I certainly think so.
Toma Inumaru: I dunno why, but your smile's giving me the heebie-jeebies... You sure it's something that can be broadcasted on radio..?
Minami Natsume: Yes, of course. I'm sure it'll liven up his variety segment nicely.
Haruka Isumi: Variety... Ugh...
Toma Inumaru: Haha, what's with the long face, Haru?
Torao Mido: I know what his problem is. He's clearly feeling lonely because we can't be on the show with him.
Torao Mido: I guess even you've got a cute side, Haruka.
Toma Inumaru: Seriously..!? I guess that makes sense... Haru might work hard as our center, but he's still only a high schooler...
Toma Inumaru: Sorry for not noticing..! Next time, just let us know. We're a team, so we've gotta help each other out!
Haruka Isumi: ...Huh!? I'm NOT feeling lonely! Stop being weird!
Minami Natsume: Is there another reason why you looked so depressed, then?
Haruka Isumi: ...Twelve Hits! is a variety talk show, right? I just don't know what I should talk about.
Minami Natsume: You don't?
Haruka Isumi: Yeah, Tenn Kujo called me the "honor student of variety shows" once, and I don't really get what that means yet.
Haruka Isumi: I guess TV and radio aren't the same thing, but still. I'm the  last member of ŹOOĻ to go, anyway.
Haruka Isumi: Since I'm doing this, I might as well do it right!
Toma Inumaru: Haru..! I didn't think you'd take this so seriously..!
Toma Inumaru: That's great!
Haruka Isumi: Hey..! Quit patting me on the head..!
Torao Mido: Don't think too hard on it. You're the host, so can't you just talk about whatever you like?
Minami Natsume: Agreed. The listeners will be there for you, Isumi-san.
Haruka Isumi: You think so..?
Toma Inumaru: That's right, Haru! Take it easy, pretend you're talking to your friends if you have to.
Toma Inumaru: Like Izumi and Yotsuba! Or... Uh, did you have any other friends, again?
Haruka Isumi: I-I've got plenty! Just the other day, I swapped RabbitChat IDs with a couple of my classmates!
Minami Natsume: Oh my, congratulations.
Haruka Isumi: ...It was mainly so we could stay in touch for our group project, though...
Toma Inumaru: ...Wait, we're getting off topic! Back to the requests!
Toma Inumaru: We can help Haru out, too. Help him practice for variety shows!
Torao Mido: Like how?
Toma Inumaru: Well...
Toma Inumaru: Ah! Ask him to do a little improv skit!
Haruka Isumi: That's too hard! I've never done comedy before!
Toma Inumaru: That's exactly why. Can't give you too low of a hurdle! Besides, a real man can overcome anything!
Minami Natsume: Or a real man can trip over the hurdle and never overcome  his failure, let alone anything else.
Torao Mido: Hmph, don't you worry, someone will pick you right back up. Toma, that is.
Haruka Isumi: If you guys are joking, it's not very funny...
Toma Inumaru: You're not chickening out, are you?
Haruka Isumi: N-no way! ...I could totally do improv!
Toma Inumaru: I believe in you, buddy! You'll get your prompt on the day of the show.
Torao Mido: Haha, you've got guts, kid. In that case, I'll give you a hosting related request, too.
Torao Mido: Why don't you do a bit of bold self-promotion for your audience, and try to pitch ŹOOĻ to them?
Haruka Isumi: What, like a sales pitch for some product..? I've seen those on TV at night...
Toma Inumaru: Yeah, like one of the infomercials for those really sharp knives that can even slice a pumpkin to ribbons!
Haruka Isumi: What!? Knives can do that!?
Toma Inumaru: Pineapples, too.
Haruka Isumi: Holy crap..!
Minami Natsume: Oh my. Perhaps your skit should be about TV shopping?
Torao Mido: ŹOOĻ is a product of sorts, too. And it'll be your job to sell us to the listeners, Haruka.
Torao Mido: Captivate your audience so well that no amount of money will be enough for them to get enough of us. Your words will decide our value.
Torao Mido: What do you think? It's a pretty good talk show excercise.
Haruka Isumi: It's a pain in the ass... All I'd need to do is play them one of our shows. Can I just sing or something?
Torao Mido: If that's what you'd rather practice, then sure, whatever.
Haruka Isumi: ...Fine. I'll try.
Torao Mido: Haha, you're actually being obedient for once.
Haruka Isumi: I'm plenty obedient. And I don't really wanna do it, but we agreed on the "no takebacks" rule, remember?
Haruka Isumi: Plus, I get that you guys are just trying to help me out...
Minami Natsume: Hee hee. In that case, I suppose my request will be something sweet, to reward you for being good.
Haruka Isumi: Sweet?
Minami Natsume: Think of it as the carrot to their stick.
Minami Natsume: You may make a request for the three of us. Us older members should do our duty and spoil you every now and then, especially seeing as how your birthday is coming up.
Haruka Isumi: Huh!? I get to ask you guys for something!? ...Like, anything!?
Minami Natsume: Yes, anything. After all, we have a young heir in our midst.
Torao Mido: Since when am I an heir? Oh, well.
Toma Inumaru: ...So Mina's request was perfectly normal and radio approriate. I dunno why I was so worried...
Minami Natsume: Hee hee. I said it would fit him nicely, did I not?
Haruka Isumi: ...Feels weird. I know the skit and stuff sounded hard, but even they'd be for my own self improvement...
Minami Natsume: I only felt like going easier on you today.
Torao Mido: You'd better be grateful.
Toma Inumaru: Come on, guys..! You could at least admit how much you care about Haru!
Haruka Isumi: Hmm? ...Ehehe!
Haruka Isumi: This feels kinda nice! But still, I can't let you go too easy on me.
Haruka Isumi: I'll shock you with how good my radio hosting will be! 
End of Part 1.
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Text
Wrong End of the Ithilien Stick (Legolas x Reader)
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Requested by: @elvish-sky
could i request a legolas x reader with angst- like she misheard something he said and they have a falling out- but with a happy ending?
A/N: Here you are!! Hope you enjoy :) bon appetit ☀️
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They were hopeless – completely, and utterly hopeless. Most who wished to court did so at the first few stolen glances, but not Y/n and Legolas.
Apparently, a year’s worth of peril on the road did nothing to invoke revelations. The Fellowship journey may have introduced them to one another, but it did nothing to bring them together. No, that was entirely up to them – the worst two to be left in charge of their own romantic fates.
Although, that’s not to say they entirely went their separate ways in the aftermath. Y/n had stayed behind with Legolas, in Ithilien, where they sought to restore the trees.
The whole process was full of cleared throats, deep blushes and shy smiles. Gimli, on the occasions he would visit, rolled his eyes, and groaned aloud.
“Ye still on yer dove dancing, are ye?” he taunted one day.
However, all the pair could do, was look away from one another. Y/n simply felt herself too inferior to his royal status, as to make the first move. Legolas, on the other hand, felt himself too high maintenance to even begin asking her if she minded his princely upbringing.
It was a vicious cycle, but one the four Hobbits sought to destroy, following their next visit.
“So, we are all aware of our roles?” Frodo asked, as the four friends strolled across a wooden bridge, and into the Ithilien forest.
Frodo had enjoyed the distraction, and appreciated the time away from his cooped-up desk greatly. Any chance to rid himself of the journey’s memories, was a chance he’d take.
“Aye!” Pippin confirmed. “Merry and I are tackling Y/n, and you and Sam will handle Legolas.”
“By nightfall, those two will be married!” Merry agreed, nodding resolutely.
However, stifling the Hobbits’ laughter, Y/n and Legolas appeared from nowhere – greeting them by the creek’s bank.
“Who’s getting married by nightfall?” Y/n sweetly asked, squinting under the bright morning sun.
“I don’t mind a wedding,” Legolas added on, smiling down at Y/n. “If it’s someone we know, perhaps we ought to go. Could borrow some cake?”
“I don’t think they’ll be wanting it back, somehow,” Y/n laughed, sharing the Elf’s smile.
Watching as they grinned brightly, and laughed together, the four Hobbits nervously looked at one another.
Oh, how desperately they needed their plan to work. Y/n would shrivel from mortality, before they even had a chance to marry themselves!
“Alas, we’re being rude,” Y/n dismissed, immediately moving forwards to hug all her friends. “It’s been so long since our last visit to the Shire! We’ve missed you all so much!”
“Likewise,” Sam warmly replied, hugging her tight. “We quite enjoyed the trek on over here too.”
“Oh, really?” Y/n excitedly asked, pulling back. “Legolas and I have been working on the trail leading in all year! We finally managed to grow the petunias you sent over as well.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Frodo smiled, now walking in tow with the girl and Elf, as they led them away. “So…speaking of news, has anything as of late occurred in Ithilien? Any news of courtship, perhaps?”
“From whom?” Legolas tightly asked, not at all liking Frodo’s sly connotation.
“Oh, no one in particular,” he lied, sharing a smile with the other Hobbits.
“Of course…” Legolas dismissed, nonetheless answering, as he walked through the botanical gardens. “Well, not to our knowledge, no…oh, but a wonderful pair of deer mated recently! We are expecting fawns any season now.”
“So are we,” Merry grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Having heard, with his Elven hearing, what the Hobbit said, Legolas confusedly glanced over his shoulder. Nonetheless, he merely only creased his features, before stealing a glance at Y/n. He then looked back up front, as they pressed on walking.
“Well, there is much ground to cover,” Legolas changed the topic, glancing up at the glittering trees. “We ought to start here first, so that we can make it back in time to-“
“Actually, Legolas,” Frodo interjected, coming to a halt, and causing the others to do the same, “we were thinking, on the way over here, that we ought to maybe split the group in half, so that we might finish earlier this time?”
Blinking down at the Hobbit, Y/n and Legolas knitted their brows. They then unsteadily looked between one another, before Y/n herself piped up again.
“Uh, sure…we can do that,” she said. “Any reason why, though?”
“Well, we do want to see your restoration project, and permaculture,” Merry began answering, chewing on the end of his pipe, “but, we’d prefer to spend some time with just you two as well. You know, at dinner and such. Don’t forget, we need supper as well.”
Looking between one another once more, and silently communicating, the two taller friends discreetly shrugged.
“Very well,” Legolas sighed, returning his attention to the Hobbits. “Frodo and Sam, you two can come with me. Merry and Pippin, you join Y/n. Oh, and Merry? Discard the pipe – there’s no smoking in Ithilien.”
Upholding both palms in surrender, Merry tucked the pipe away. As he and Pippin began following after Y/n, they both shared a sneaky grin with Frodo and Sam. They each all resolutely nodded at one another, before turning around to face back up front.
~
“Oh! Oh! Look!” Y/n excitedly pointed out.
Looking upwards, both Merry and Pippin observed a courting pair of bluebirds. They flew around one another, and landed in a little brown nest, high up in a tree.
Grinning brightly, Y/n breathed in the soft spring air.
“Oh, don’t you just love this time of year?” she wistfully sighed. “The courting animals, the romantic lighting, the little boats on the lake-“
“THAT’S IT! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” Merry exclaimed. He clamped his ears tight, with both hands, and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Merry?” Y/n asked in concern, swiftly turning around to observe him. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? What’s WRONG?” Merry seethed, finally re-meeting her eyes. “YOU ARE, Y/N, THAT’S WHAT!”
“I beg your pardon?” Y/n bit back, looking him up and down with narrowed eyes. “What did I do?”
“It’s more like what you haven’t done,” Pippin elaborated, ever-so-casually. “Actually, both you and Legolas, to be perfectly candid.”
Feeling heat rise to her cheeks, Y/n stammered over her words.
“I-I don’t understand-“ she tried to say.
“Yes, you do,” Merry interjected, using a series of hand gestures to further his point. “You like him. He likes you. It’s been like this since Rivendell – BEFORE we all set out for Mordor, mind you! Somehow, destroying that little ring was easier than getting you two to admit your feelings!”
Y/n was at a loss for words. Had it all really been that obvious?
“Yes, it really has been that obvious,” Merry piped up again, apparently having read her mind.
Slumping her shoulders, Y/n ran a hand along her face, and complained.
“This is really humiliating…” she said. “Do you think Legolas knows too?”
“Y/n, not to alarm you, but I’m pretty sure all of Arda knows,” Pippin winced.
Finding a park bench, Y/n sat herself down in a flush, and groaned.
“Well, whatever am I to do?” she asked, as her two friends each took a seat beside her. “I ought to tell him, I know that much, but I just simply cannot muster the courage.”
“Y/n, I’ve seen you slowly decapitate an orc’s head with a picnic knife,” Merry deadpanned, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I think you can handle telling your one true love how you really feel.”
Rolling her eyes at his choice of cheesy words, Y/n soon reeled them into her lap, where she picked at her thumbnail.
“Aye, that is true, but…” she pressed on, “well, look at me, guys. I’m a commoner, and no amount of true love is going to change that. He’s a prince, at the end of the day…what would everyone think?”
“What does it matter what everyone thinks?” Pippin encouraged, holding her other shoulder. “We, the Fellowship survivors, know above all else just how short life is. You can’t spend it worrying about what others will make of your happiness.”
Seeing the cogs turn in her mind, Merry squeezed her shoulder harder, and urged her to look at him.
“You love him, Y/n…you can’t delay any longer,” he said.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Y/n creased her brows. It was true, she loved him, more than anything else. Why should she deny herself that, based purely on what others would think?
“You know something? You’re right!” she resolutely declared. She stood upwards quickly, and squared her shoulders. “I love him, and I shouldn’t care what anyone thinks of my status! I’m going to tell him – today!”
Whooping and hollering, Merry and Pippin also both jumped to their feet. They pushed her along, as she began jogging away, to where she knew Legolas would be.
“That’s the spirit, friend!” Pippin cheered. “Go and tell him! And please make the cake red velvet at the wedding!”
Waving over her shoulder with a grin, Y/n pushed her legs faster, as to find Legolas, and finally reveal her heart to him.
~ In the botanical greenhouse, Legolas, Sam and Frodo all stood around – inspecting the many different pot plants.
“And this one is a young fern,” Legolas explained, holding a tiny plant up high. “I grew it myself from a seedling. I’m hoping it’ll soon have sprouts of its own, and raise a family, and-“
“Oh my goodness…” Sam sighed, folding his arms, and shaking his head. “You really are hopeless, you know that, right?”
“Pardon?” Legolas confusedly asked, lifting his eyes from the fern. “My apologies…if you do not like ferns, I could show you the-“
“Legolas…I think you ought to sit down for a moment,” Frodo interjected, gesturing to a wooden chair in the middle of the greenhouse.
Furrowing his brows, Legolas warily glanced between the two Hobbits. They stood in front of the chair, and folded their arms – very serious, indeed.
Slowly, Legolas made his way on over towards the chair, and sat down.
Instantly, the two Hobbits closed the greenhouse curtains all around, save for one. The only window left open served one ray of sun, which purely basked Legolas, and Legolas only, as if he were under an interrogation spotlight.
Squinting his eyes, and craning his head to move out of the light, Legolas spoke.
“Is the chair really necessary-“ he tried to say.
“Right, let’s cut to the chase,” Sam interjected, standing in front of Legolas with Frodo. “Y/n. You like her. She likes you. Now, why haven’t you courted her, and made beautiful children yet?”
Staring wide-eyed for a moment, Legolas parted his lips. However, swift in his archer’s mind, he soon sighed. Next, slumping his shoulders, Legolas responded.
“I suppose I haven’t been as discreet in my fondness as previously thought…” he mused.
“Not in the slightest,” Sam and Frodo said at once.
Twitching his lips to one side, Frodo softly stared down at his friend, and pressed on.
“Legolas…why haven’t you told her of how you feel yet?” he asked.
Lifting his eyes, and wincing them, Legolas considered his thoughts. He knew how much Y/n enjoyed her freedom, and he knew how restricting a royal life could be. He loved Y/n enough to not impose such a confining lifestyle on her – that was why he held back.
Exhaling again, Legolas knew he could no longer hide his feelings from his friends, and responded.
At the same time, just outside of the greenhouse, Y/n ran up to the door. Stumped for a moment, as to why the curtains were all drawn back, she nonetheless moved closer. However, upon hearing muffled voices on the other side, speaking of her in particular, she halted, and listened in.
“Are you jesting, Frodo? She’s a commoner,” Legolas said in frustration, shocking the girl outside. “Y/n and formalities simply do not mix. How could anyone ever love someone so different from themselves? Nay…I wouldn’t brew that situation.”
Having stumbled backwards in hurt, Y/n felt tears prick at her eyes. She raised both hands, and held them over her chest.
Before she could freely cry, she turned on her heel, and ran away. However, as she did so, she failed to hear the end of Legolas’ sentence, which defined the entire context.
“That’s why I can’t marry Y/n…she deserves better than what I could give her,” he said. “I wouldn’t wish for someone so free to be tied down to someone like me...I’m far too different from her.”
“Does Y/n not also get a say in the matter?” Frodo sincerely asked, studying his friend apologetically. “Y/n loves you, Legolas…you ought to at least give your courtship a chance, regardless of formalities.”
“Aye, Frodo is right,” Sam added on, nodding at his raven-haired friend. “You ought to at least speak to her. It can’t hurt…well, it can, but you’ll never know until you try.”
Sucking on his lower lip, Legolas knitted his brows. He considered his friends’ words, and mulled them over. It was true, he loved Y/n, and he was almost certain she him. Perhaps Frodo and Sam were right – simply talking couldn’t do much harm, could it?
Nodding his head, Legolas met the Hobbits’ eyes again.
“Aye,” he agreed at last. “You’re right, I ought to at least ask her!”
Swiftly standing, Legolas moved out from the chair, and headed towards the greenhouse door.
“We’re proud of you!” Sam cheered, giving a mighty few claps of his hands.
“Good luck,” Frodo smiled, nodding at his friend.
Nodding back once, Legolas beamed bright, and headed outside.
~
Having run away far enough, Y/n now trekked angrily through the forest. Her jaw was set, and her eyes burning. How could he be so nice to her face, only to say such horrible things behind her back? She cared not, for she would maintain the entire other side of Ithilien, from now on.
She, a commoner, would not dare stay with someone who cares so little for her. However, she soon heard a bright voice calling from behind. Turning around, she spotted Legolas swiftly jogging towards her.
“Y/n!” he called, wearing an excited smile.
The moment he jogged up to her, Y/n grew cold in her stance. She revered him with distrust, and anger.
This did not go unnoticed by Legolas, whose features dropped, and his mind wiped. He now sought to ensure she herself was okay.
“Are you alright?” he sincerely asked, brimming with concern.
Laughable, Y/n thought. How dare he pretend to care – right to her face as well!
“Never been better,” Y/n seethed, turning on her heel.
Stammering over his words for a minute, Legolas shook the odd mood in the air away. He followed after her, and shyly spoke – though, his words were hasty.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” he began. However, Y/n wanted none of it.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, your highness!” Y/n snapped, turning around once more, and angrily pointing at him. “I heard enough earlier.”
“You heard what I said?” Legolas repeated in horror, suddenly feeling his palms grow clammy – for more than one reason.
“Every last word,” Y/n replied, glaring across at the Elf.
Shocked by her attitude, Legolas was simply at a loss. He shook his head at the ground in confusion, and spoke.
“I-I thought you would have understood?” he said, lifting his puzzled eyes once more.
“Oh, I understand!” Y/n sarcastically started, rolling her eyes. “Just like you said yourself; how could anyone love someone so different?”
Truly hurt by her words, Legolas parted his lips. His eyes brimmed in anguish, as all his hopes were suddenly stomped on, and buried beneath the dirt.
“But…I thought that wouldn’t matter to you?” he said in a small voice.
“Yeah, well…I guess you thought wrong,” Y/n replied, scrunching her nose in disdain.
Turning on her heels, Y/n stalked away. Where she was heading? She didn’t know – all she knew, is that she could find some better and more loyal company, with just herself.
Left alone, Legolas stood in silence. What had just happened? She truly did not wish to court him, purely because of his royal status? Very well, then – he could do just as fine by himself.
Matching her anger, Legolas too stalked away, but in the opposite direction.
~
Sat down in the grass, and enjoying a picnic by the lake, Frodo and Sam basked in each other’s company. Merry and Pippin were off who knows where, and doing God knows what. However, all tranquillity soon came to an end, the moment a furious Y/n stomped past.
Staring between one another, and blinking in confusion, the two Hobbits quickly dropped their sandwiches. They rose swiftly, and chased after her.
“Hey! Hey, Y/n!” Frodo called, jogging to meet with her. “Have you found Legolas yet? There’s something you need to know. We spoke earlier, and-“
“Yes, I know you all talked earlier,” Y/n snapped, now recalling exactly whom Legolas spoke with before. She halted, and glared down at the two friends. “You’re all very good comrades, aren’t you? Well, if you are all such good brothers in arms, how about you go find him instead, and leave me alone?”
Noticing that she made a move to stalk away again, along the edge of the glistening lake, both Frodo and Sam confusedly looked between one another once more.
“I beg your pardon, Y/n,” Sam tentatively spoke up, watching her leave, “but I think you may have the wrong end of the stick here?”
“Oh, no, I think I have the exact right idea,” Y/n seethed, rolling her eyes. “I hope you all had a lovely time, speaking about me behind my back – and just a commoner? Really? We can’t all be from Bag End, Frodo.”
Confused, but only for a moment, the context suddenly clicked in Frodo’s mind. Racing forwards, he held Y/n’s hand, and kept her in place.
“Wait! You DEFINITELY have the wrong idea!” he exclaimed. “I know what you’re angry about, but you have to listen! He wasn’t talking about you in that regard – he was referencing his distress over taking you from your farming life, and placing you in royal formalities!”
“What are you talking about-“ Y/n had gone to say, with a yank of her hand out of his. However, Frodo’s words quickly met her mind, and ceased her tongue.
Oh.
Oh.
Well, now that made more sense.
Feeling a wave of shame wash over her, Y/n bared her teeth in cringe, and winced her features.
“Oh my…” was all she could say.
~
A little further off, but still heading towards the lake, and Legolas could be found in the same situation – however, only a few steps behind.
“You all come into our home, and plant ideas in our heads,” Legolas seethed, striding away from Merry and Pippin, “only to leave poisonous weeds instead! I don’t know what you’ve all done behind the scenes, but you’ve certainly made nothing better since your arrival!”
“Please, Legolas! Just tell us what happened!” Merry begged, struggling to keep up.
“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it? I don’t know!” Legolas exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “One minute, the last time I was with Y/n, mind you, and we were happy! But the second I see her again, after she spent her morning with you two, and she turns like the tide on a wintery day!”
“That just doesn’t make any sense…” Pippin whispered, creasing his brows. “When she left us, she was on her way to tell you all about how much she wished to court you, and-“
Halting in his tracks, Legolas paused. Snapping his head over his shoulder, the Elf questioned the Hobbit, who quickly clamped his mouth shut.
“What?” he pressed. “What do you mean she was coming to tell me of courting?”
Looking between one another, Merry and Pippin sheepishly bared their teeth. Figuring the cat was already out of the bag, Merry turned back first, and revealed their agenda.
“Well, we somewhat…nudged…Y/n, to tell you of her love for you,” he said. “Last time we saw her, like I said, she went to find you in the greenhouse.”
Knitting his brows, and mulling the new bouts of information over, Legolas responded through a confused shake of his head.
“But that just doesn’t make any sense,” Legolas continued. “What could have soured her perception, from her journey between you, and the greenhouse-“
The greenhouse.
Oh.
Oh.
Having caught his own words, Legolas immediately knew what went wrong. She had thought him to be insulting her status, and he thought her to be rejecting his.
Running a hand over his face, Legolas growled in frustration. Why must love be so hard? Surely, beyond courting, marriage and children, things would be easier, would they not? Well, Legolas wasn’t so certain he’d find out now – not unless he tracked down Y/n in time, before their rift planted roots too deep.
“I need to find her,�� Legolas frantically began, looking all around himself. “I have no idea where she’d be – she could be on the other side of the forest, for all I know!”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” Merry interjected, staring behind Legolas with Pippin.
“How would you know?” Legolas confusedly asked, though, his frustration edged his tone.
“Just a hunch,” Merry said again, pointing behind the prince.
Looking over his shoulder, Legolas’ formerly hardened features softened. Y/n stood in the near distance behind him, and anxiously stared in his direction – like a deer caught in the headlights. She chewed on her lower lip nervously, and waited by the lapping water’s edge.
Catching both Frodo and Sam’s eye, Merry and Pippin each awkwardly began stepping away, as did the other two Hobbits.
“Okay, we’re just, uh…gonna go now, yeah…good luck,” Merry said, dragging his younger cousin away.
Swallowing his nerves, Legolas suddenly felt his knees buckle, and his palms grow clammy. Nonetheless, if he was old enough to court, then he was old enough to resolve relationship issues.
Breathing in a shaky breath, and releasing it through pursed lips, Legolas forced his feet across the grass, to where Y/n stood.
Feeling her own heart hammer, and sweat cling to her temples, Y/n shifted on her feet. She frequently looked between an approaching Legolas, and the lake beside her. Was love meant to be this scary? Would it always be like this? Or was this the end?
She figured she would soon find out, for the prince now stood before her.
Both said nothing. Instead, they merely stole glances, like so many times before, and looked at the rippling lake.
The sun basked them in a warm glow, and the wind blowing through the leaves nearby met their ears. Soon, however, a chilly afternoon breeze rolled through, and darkened the sky overhead.
With a shiver, Y/n wrapped her arms around her form. She rubbed up and down, as to bring the warmth back. She hadn’t been wearing a cloak that day, for she figured she needed none. This was, of course, against Legolas’ advisement earlier that morning.
Sensing her cold, Legolas finally studied her again. With a sigh past his nose, he shed his own cloak. Next, stepping forwards, and accelerating both her heartrate and his, he wrapped the green material around her shoulders.
Immediately, the cold of the world was blocked out. It even appeared as though the sun above had made a comeback – breaking through the otherwise grey clouds.
He held her shoulders, as he adjusted the cloak, and secured it over her form. Y/n watched his features, as they creased in both concentration, and consideration.
“Why would you do that?” Y/n asked, after a moment of quiet study – breaking the silence finally. “Won’t you now be cold?”
Although he did not feel the cold the same way she did, Legolas used the moment as an advantage – a hoist to deliver his most inner thoughts, in a way.
“Perhaps, but…I’d prefer you to be warm,” he said, having initially jolted at her sudden words.
“Why?” Y/n tightly asked. She knew why, but she wanted to hear him say it.
Swallowing down his nerves, Legolas slowly met her eyes. They brimmed with nerves, but also adoration – a combination of which Y/n shared. However, hers also bore eagerness, and anticipation.
“Because…” he began in a small voice, swallowing once more. “I…I, uh-“
“Yes?” Y/n whispered, leaning in closer.
Sighing, Legolas buried his nerves away, and did the most un-Elven thing possible. He swept Y/n into a tight embrace, and hugged her warmly.
Shocked for a minute, Y/n widened her eyes. However, she soon melted into his touch, and hugged him back.
“Because, I believe a partner should ensure theirs is okay,” Legolas finally revealed.
“Partner?” Y/n repeated, in a very small voice. “And by partner…you mean?”
“Someone I love dearly, and care about most ardently,” he softly replied, kissing the top of her head.
Stunned by his small gesture for a moment, butterflies fluttered in Y/n’s stomach. She then hid said nerves with humour.
“Well…that is definitely hard to misinterpret,” Y/n attempted to joke. However, her joy overwhelmed her, and she squeezed the prince harder. “If it’s any consolation, I love you too…and I’m sorry for my brash behaviour earlier.”
“Aye, I am as well,” Legolas grinned, swaying her in the sun. “So…this may perhaps be an ambitious request, but…will you court me? Royal status and all?”
“Of course,” Y/n grinned back. “But, will you court me, commoner status and all?”
Smiling brighter, and closing his eyes contently, Legolas continued on hugging the girl by the shore. He then softly answered, whilst the sun basked them both in a placid glow – perhaps a tell-tale of the many good days to come.
“Without question,” he said at last.
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edenmemes · 4 years ago
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hades sentence starters
❝ somebody else came through earlier. you should have seen the look on my face when it wasn’t you! ❞ ❝ let’s forgive each other and forget, go back to how things used to be? ❞ ❝ right now i wouldn’t talk to me if i were you. ❞ ❝ i’ll have to pick up the pieces somehow, and figure out how to get on with my existence. ❞ ❝ we have caused such violence in the intervening time, that we must take this as a real victory. ❞ ❝ i’ll wait for you however long it takes. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. but this is something i have to do. you wouldn’t understand. ❞ ❝ the only one responsible for all of this is you. and i thought even you would have understood that by now. ❞ ❝ i don’t like it when you’re quiet for too long, what’s on your mind? ❞ ❝ what is it with you gods talking behind the backs of all your friends? ❞ ❝ the world you seek out there...it’s even crueler than the one you know. ❞ ❝ look, i don’t hold grudges, you know that. ❞ ❝ i’m worried you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing yourself past your limits. ❞ ❝ your lapse in judgement here is not so easy to forgive, yet easily punished. ❞ ❝ i didn’t mean to lose my temper with you. ❞ ❝ the fates are pretty mean to keep on doing this to you. ❞ ❝ i hardly think this is the time or place to indulge your overwrought imagination. ❞ ❝ for our sparring practice, there's no teacher than the real thing. ❞ ❝ they say a lot of things about me; and they’ll tell you, ample caution is in order. ❞ ❝ either your limitless power has considerably waned, are you are up to something. ❞ ❝ i risked everything by helping you out there. ❞ ❝ my voice is nothing but the crunch of gravel underfoot compared to yours, which soars as though on wings. ❞ ❝ to doubt is an important instinct. without it, we could not conceive of better circumstances than the ones we know. ❞ ❝ let’s not set a bad example for the family. we’re better than all that, they’ve many bad examples as it is. ❞ ❝ you are persuasive like your mother, and determined like your father. ❞ ❝ if you think for an instant that i shall go easier on you, you’ll soon learn otherwise. ❞ ❝ is clinging to a memory what keeps the soul from fading? ❞ ❝ don’t know what it is about you, but i feel like i can be me with you, you know? ❞ ❝ war, much like the heavens and the sea, can be considered as a force of nature. ❞ ❝ if you know that you could only see me for but a moment’s time...would you still make the journey for me? ❞ ❝ i, too, wish for a lot of things. unfortunately there’s no unraveling the fates’ patterns. ❞ ❝ i left when it was necessary. i thought of you and hoped you’d understand. ❞ ❝ all of which you think you have achieved was merely handed to you. ❞     ❝ the past me, it’s as though...it wasn’t even me. this is me, now. ❞ ❝ in war, one must take sides, and you had best choose mine. ❞ ❝ i do not act by whim or by mistake. ❞ ❝ i just don’t understand. why keep on being nice to me, like this? ❞ ❝ you’re so much more than what you said. i wish you could see that. ❞ ❝ it’s really nice, sometimes...knowing somebody really cares about me. ❞ ❝ my father? he’d not a one redeeming quality. ❞ ❝ we can learn from our mistakes or we can keep repeating them. ❞     ❝ there’s nothing you can do to hurt me. ❞     ❝ soon doubtless it’ll be your portrait hanging on that wall back there. ❞ ❝ just don’t go starting any wars you don’t intend to finish. ❞ ❝ you do something for me, in the meantime: don’t give in to what you’re feeling now. ❞ ❝ it is not often i attempt to kill someone and they survive. bravo! ❞ ❝ why does the soul remain, after the body bleeds, and dies, and turns to ash? ❞ ❝ all gods and goddesses are to be feared. ❞ ❝ what more could i have even done? could i have swayed you, in any other way? ❞ ❝ i tried, with all my might, with all my heart, you must know that, and still, it never was enough. ❞ ❝ i’m pleased to see your father’s stubbornness is manifest in you as such determination. ❞ ❝ i’m really starting to hate you. you know that? ❞ ❝ know that i am grateful for the outcome. even if i fail to act like it ❞ ❝ i’m with you every step. then i will probably ignore you like the rest. just warning you ahead of time. ❞ ❝ i only wish we met sooner, though i’m grateful to have met you at all. ❞ ❝ you work too hard. live a little. ❞ ❝ i warn you: i shall hold nothing back. ❞ ❝ that’s something very private that you’re asking... ❞ ❝ use caution with the tone you take with me. ❞ ❝ if you have any sense remaining in that head of yours, i caution you not to discuss this here and now. ❞ ❝ you saw something in me i never knew was there. in turn, with you, i felt....calm. whole. ❞ ❝ i only know that i was filled with rage. ❞ ❝ the fates decided this for us, i guess, and so...who are we to complain? ❞ ❝ i pray the fates not ruin all your dreams as they did mine. ❞ ❝ what’s the worst that could happen? ❞ ❝ they left their mark upon the world. shall you? ❞ ❝ your mockery of me may temporarily embolden you, but achieves nothing useful in the end. ❞ ❝ what exactly is it that makes you feel entitled to show me such disrespect? ❞ ❝ i’ve got to admit, you are really frustrating, you know? ❞ ❝ i seem to have this whole ‘easy-to-underestimate’ thing about me. ❞ ❝ you seem a little quieter than usual. dare i even say a little somber and remorseful, for some reason? ❞ ❝ it’s because i like you. in case you still have some misgivings about that. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. it’s good enough a guide, believe me. ❞ ❝ you always seem in good spirits, though. ❞ ❝ i cannot change the past. and there is only so much i can do about the future. ❞ ❝ a loving heart is a forgiving heart. ❞ ❝ just in case it hasn’t been made clear as crystal lately, let me tell you: when presented with the opportunity, don’t ever reject me. ❞ ❝ you know, i got to say i had a few concerns when we first met, your father being who he is and all. ❞ ❝ i like it when my prey bites back. ❞ ❝ my attempts at making peace are going to be rather subtle for your tastes. ❞ ❝ you'd best not take for granted my affection yes, i’ve lots of it to go around; but i can just as easily rescind such privileges. ❞ ❝ don't be messing with my feelings. my loyalty's hard-won and quickly lost. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ if i may say? you’re a hell of a guy. ❞ ❝ you truly take me to the best of places. ❞ ❝ death shall come. either to your enemies, or you. ❞ ❝ a mortal’s life is short, and fraught with pain; is that truly the life you yearn for? ❞ ❝ you think you are superior to me? you are a fool. ❞ ❝ even i have doubts, from time to time. ❞ ❝ i wasn’t expecting to make any new friends here anytime soon. ❞ ❝ i grow angry merely thinking of your situation. ❞ ❝ i wanted to apologize for when i pried about your past. ❞ ❝ nobody gets out of here, whether alive or dead. you think i jest? you think i haven’t tried? ❞ ❝ they got me, finally, of course. but not before i broke them first. ❞ ❝ you are immortal, but in a manner, you can die. ❞ ❝ you have a lot of nerve --- but little else. ❞ ❝ oh, you look terrible, if i may say. ❞ ❝ you’re either naive or you’re much too kind, or both. ❞ ❝ despite whatever difficulties you’ve encountered, again and again, you have never yielded. ❞ ❝ though, that war? don’t ask me about it again. all right? ❞ ❝ you may not make your father very proud, but it is just the opposite with me. ❞ ❝ even i’m beginning to fear you, i think. seems i don’t know you as well as i thought. ❞ ❝ you have a worried look about you. spare me your thoughts? ❞ ❝ names are there to be forgotten. ❞ ❝ it’s not your fault. you couldn’t have known. ❞ ❝ i know it’s not been easy for you. ❞ ❝ you honor me...i have done nothing to deserve this. ❞ ❝ oh, how i hate to fight with you like this! ❞ ❝ follow your heart? that’s odd advice, especially from you. ❞ ❝ the fear of death keeps mortals well in check. you’d best learn to fear something yourself. ❞ ❝ you are going to get me in a heap of trouble before all is said and done. ❞ ❝ i'll hear no more such wicked lies, half-truths, or quarter-truths. ❞ ❝ well, if you won’t say it, i’ll say it. good-bye. ❞ ❝ i know of no one, nothing stronger, other than the love we share. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on, yet. ❞ ❝ you seem less warlike than the rest. ❞ ❝ can’t always trust what feelings say. ❞ ❝ my temper i shall keep in check, but only barely so. ❞ ❝ i am unmade, unwhole, here in this place, alone. ❞ ❝ my past is not really worth mentioning. ❞ ❝ you may not really need me, but i will take these opportunities to help. ❞ ❝ you sound a little tongue-tied. just like you always used to around me. ❞     ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ this look like a shoulder to cry on to you? ❞ ❝ ...you know who you sound like right now, don’t you? i can’t believe this. ❞     ❝ i think, deep down, you are still that inexperienced little godling that you used to be. ❞ ❝ i always had doubts the gods were listening. that they could even hear. ❞ ❝ i was just checking up on you, just...let me know if you wanted to talk, for any reason. ❞ ❝ if there’s one thing i know, it’s that the three fates always get their way. ❞ ❝ hey, you’re not alone. you’re not alone, ok? ❞ ❝ you're not exactly easy to approach, you know. ❞          ❝ i grieve for you, my friend. ❞ ❝ are you lecturing me about healthy relationships with family? your family is the most broken and corrupted in the history of the entire concept. ❞ ❝ you think you can just walk away from me? ❞ ❝ how about it, then? care for a drink, with me? ❞     ❝ you are entirely too young to have had meaningful experience with loss. ❞ ❝ something the matter, there? or have you come to torment me some more with idle chat? ❞ ❝ you will find me waiting for you once you get here. every single time. ❞ ❝ men worship ares willingly; they are so much like him. ❞ ❝ while love’s the force that brought me and countless other’s low in life, it also brought me and countless others strength. ❞ ❝ others shall always doubt me. you may doubt me. ❞ ❝ beware the narrow distance between hastiness and swiftness. ❞ ❝ a crashing wave or thundering tempest are nothing to a broken heart. ❞ ❝ think back on when you started all of this. you now know so much more. are capable of so much more. ❞ ❝ as ever, you think only of yourself. ❞ ❝ this is where you belong. you feel out of place? where would you even go? your place is here. ❞ ❝ your path is yours to shape as you see fit, regardless of the fates’ design. ❞ ❝ you’re no god! you’re nothing but a piece of trash, born into all of this. ❞ ❝ you seem to have me all figured out. and here i thought we were still getting to know each other. ❞ ❝ are there truly no depths to which you would not stoop? ❞ ❝ leave me be, and don’t think you’re going to be so lucky next time we meet out there. ❞ ❝ you have the tendency to ask too many questions. ❞ ❝ i smell the blood on you. you are severely wounded. ❞ ❝ don’t be messing with my feelings there. my trust is hard-won and quickly lost. ❞ ❝ if you wish to test the fine relationship we’ve built, why then, i can confirm you’re testing it, all right. ❞ ❝ don’t ever take me for some thoughtless nymph to be manipulated. ❞ ❝ don’t get on my father’s bad side like that and you’re going to be fine. ❞ ❝ how’s your endless toil treating you? ❞ ❝ i’d never trade my bow for all that pomp and armor. but, to each their own. ❞ ❝ let me see you now for what you truly are. ❞ ❝ was i deceived, in thinking this of you, of us? ❞ ❝ i get what i want around here. ❞ ❝ don’t you understand i’m trying to fix the problems you caused? ❞ ❝ the gods are on my side, not yours. ❞ ❝ don’t you dare look at me like that. ❞ ❝ life isn’t particularly fair. i’d have expected you to know as much. ❞ ❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ you have no concept of which impulses to act upon, and which to keep in check. ❞ ❝ when i inevitably, inadvertently trample all over your feelings at some point, please tell me, all right? ❞ ❝ you don’t even know who i am. who i was. ❞ ❝ won’t you come back to me? when you are able, please. come back. i shall be waiting here, however long it takes. ❞ ❝ never met a god that bleeds like you. red. like a worthless mortal. ❞ ❝ i got to hanf it to you. you don’t back down. you don’t ever back down. ❞ ❝ i’ve a tip for you: don’t be slow! ❞ ❝ you can’t escape your problems. you have no choice but to confront them, and work through it, sooner or later, one way or another. ❞ ❝ i knew you had a more sinister trick at play, because your fighting style certainly is of no concern just on its own. ❞ ❝ i...feel awful. i...i have to go. ❞ ❝ once people set their minds to certain things, it can be difficult to show them other possibilites exist. ❞ ❝ there’s something that i’ve wished to tell you: there’s no shame in your upbringing. ❞ ❝ i have known too many far too proud to accept help, even when it was sorely needed. ❞ ❝ may you yet come to your senses. ❞ ❝ i have virtually done everything within my powers to prevent this. all of it...for nothing. ❞ ❝ you can’t be serious. you’re going to pretend as though it never happened? ❞ ❝ seems i’m left to thanking myself, since you’re too proud to do it. ❞ ❝ fight like i’d fight out there. ❞ ❝ what have i done to deserve such scorn? ❞ ❝ you left, without so much as telling me good-bye. ❞ ❝ you’ve such weak blood, and such a temperament... ❞ ❝ i am very, very sure i haven’t murdered anyone. ❞ ❝ i am truly blessed simply to have made your acquantince. ❞ ❝ you wish to take advantage of my pity? ❞ ❝ it comforts me to see how far you’ve come. ❞ ❝ i’ve always wanted to kill a god. you’ll have to do. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to give me something in return, it was a gift! ❞ ❝ you know i’d take you if i could. ❞ ❝ you shut your mouth right now, with that. ❞ ❝ it’s never been an easy time for me. ❞ ❝ why do you think i keep on showing up? ❞ ❝ who might you be, wandering all the way out here? you’re trespassing on private property, you know. ❞ ❝ i’d rather have you as a friiend than as a foe. ❞ ❝ really, you’re kicking me out? why? ❞ ❝ you’re funny, but you’ll break. they always do. ❞ ❝ you must think that i abandoned you. you think i had a choice?❞ ❝ you’re stuck with me forever. remember that. ❞ ❝ you know these heroes by their deeds, not by their character. ❞ ❝ some would question the destruction which you sow, but i shall never do so. i fully understand your impulses. ❞ ❝ you’re quite effective at locating me, but not so good at leaving me in peace. ❞ ❝ you don’t need me & i don’t need you. ❞ ❝ you lived through all that? ❞ ❝ my heart soars, knowing you live. then it breaks, that our time together was so brief. ❞ ❝ you’ve only me. and i have only you. ❞ ❝ sulk in your chambers all you like, for i care not. ❞ ❝ where did you go...? what did you do...? ❞ ❝ monster! you have no bearing, grace or courage! ❞ ❝ you’re beneath the notice of the gods. i have earned their favor. ❞ ❝ your youth provides you with a certain mindless strength. ❞ ❝ wait. i don’t think i owe you any favors, here. ❞ ❝ you appear to have grown stronger since when last we interacted. ❞ ❝ please...it was never my wish to hurt you. ❞ ❝ death is your only family. ❞ ❝ i too was born of darkness, but i chose the path of light. ❞ ❝ don’t know how come everybody doesn’t sing. lightens the mood, passes the time. what’s not to like? ❞ ❝ you come from the bowels of hell. this is not your place. ❞ ❝ heroes? mere mortals, same as all the rest. ❞ ❝ offend me, and i’ll drain the last traces of colour from your cheeks. ❞ ❝ punishment is not the path to rehabilitation. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing like your father. i mean that as a compliment. ❞ ❝ i just hope that their intentions are as pure as they appear. ❞ ❝ don’t be sad, pretty much everybody dies sometime. ❞ ❝ i’ve done some things that maybe aren’t great. ❞ ❝ actions beat intentions. ❞ ❝ look! i’m grinning ear to ear! ❞ ❝ my fits of anger come and go just like the tides. ❞ ❝ you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞    ❝ you will need to face your fears someday. ❞ ❝ true wisdom only comes with age. ❞ ❝ something has stirred within your heart. i can always tell. ❞ ❝ or...wait...what is this, did you just ask me out? ❞ ❝ i’m getting awful sick of seeing your smug face, time, after time, after time. ❞ ❝ your humility is matched only by your perseverance in the face of adversity. ❞ ❝ your stubborness shall only bring you pain. ❞ ❝ sometimes, our hearts become so full that they could burst. if only you could see how much i care. ❞ ❝ let’s see if you’re as skillful as you think. ❞ ❝ wait, you’re not serious. that famous sense of humor shining through. ❞ ❝ i’m surrounded by my family, but i always feel alone. ❞ ❝ i shall make myself quite clear in one respect: i fear i have a lack of patience for discussion. ❞ ❝ thought i might find you all the way out here. although, quite frankly, i’m surprised you’re still alive. ❞ ❝ absolute silence is my general preference. it may not be yours. ❞ ❝ i just like to see you menacingly smile. ❞ ❝ don’t tell anyone about this, understand? ❞ ❝ i told you i don’t need your help. ❞ ❝ you’re much too modest for someone with such a number of heroic deeds to their name. ❞ ❝ if anybody asks, we’re even. ❞ ❝ we had a lovely time getting to know each other. we laughed, we cried! ❞ ❝ what’s the matter, you gone soft or something? ❞ ❝ be sure to add those to the list of words you’ll eat someday. ❞ ❝ you know i’d do just about anything to aid you. ❞ ❝ you again. i told you to stay clear of me. ❞ ❝ in spite of all your efforts, it is probably the case that you still have a long and painful road ahead. ❞ ❝ you’ve always cared for me. i can’t ever repay you for that. ❞ ❝ i just thought i’d say, that was well fought back there. ❞ ❝ hush, it’s the god of trash, come once again to filthy up this place. ❞ ❝ changed your mind yet, or looking for more pain and suffering? ❞ ❝ maybe get some sleep or something? you look pretty beat. ❞ ❝ look, i’ve got a reputation to uphold. ❞ ❝ your father’s quite the big shot around here, but that means nothing to me, understand? ❞ ❝ you don’t have what it takes. nobody does. ❞ ❝ there’s no returning to the way things used to be. ❞ ❝ can i offer you some words of advice? get over yourself. ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ you now what i like about you? the way you bleed. ❞ ❝ may all the death you bring become the stuff of legends told in fearful mortal whisperings around the world. ❞ ❝ i just happen to think you deserve better than you’ve got. ❞ ❝ no love without pain. ❞ ❝ failure is the greatest instructor of all. ❞ ❝ i think you feel like you have some sort of fearsome reputation to uphold. ❞ ❝ you know what? i think we’re finished here. ❞ ❝ i know you’re not in a good spot right now. ❞ ❝ what you’re attempting is impossible. ❞ ❝ i’m not your practice partner, fool. ❞ ❝ i know you don’t mean any harm, but it just isn’t something i discuss with anyone, ok? ❞ ❝ first you defy me openly, and now you lie. ❞ ❝ admit it. you can’t stop thinking about me. ❞ ❝ i’d like to be alone again, so you go on ahead. ❞ ❝ maybe this might numb the pain a bit. ❞ ❝ something’s troubled me a little, about you. ❞ ❝ your failure is quite easily imagined. how often it recurs! ❞ ❝ found this, thought of you and all that, so...here. ❞ ❝ how i love these unexpected little run-ins with you. ❞ ❝ what brings you back around this way again? ❞ ❝ now what’s the matter? it’s like you’ve been up feasting day and night, you’re barely standing, everything ok? ❞ ❝ first i found you, i was certain that you had no chance at all. ❞ ❝ if it wasn’t you proposing it, i’d like to call it madness. ❞ ❝ i'll sleep when i’m dead. ❞ ❝ thank you for not forgetting about me. ❞ ❝ you must see plainly, then, what your birthright amounts to: you’re no better off than any of us here. ❞ ❝ i’ll do my best. for both our sakes. ❞ ❝ the world is not all lies and deceit as you make it out to be. ❞ ❝ you fight so desperately. at first i thought you simply lacked in patience. but now i see it’s urgency that drives you. ❞ ❝ you don’t know who or what you’re dealing with. ❞ ❝ who are you to judge, you misbegotten, shameful, unfilial maggot? ❞ ❝ you’re getting real predictable, you know. ❞ ❝ no one can avoid taking sides forever. but you can take the more sensible side, at least. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ thank you for making me feel welcome in your pleasant home. can’t say the same for most places i’ve been lately. ❞   ❝ i would very much prefer to think we both know better than to let old grudges stew forever. ❞ ❝ nothing is ever perfect, right? no matter how hard you try. ❞ ❝ while i know what you meant, i don’t want you to say such things again. ❞ ❝ look at you, you’re hurt there pretty bad. ❞     ❝ i can’t be completely sure but, what you said just now i think contained some of the component pieces of a compliment? ❞ ❝ don’t fall for mortals. use them if you must, but do not waste your love on those who waste away. ❞ ❝ you’re stubborn. however, so am i. ❞ ❝ you think me cruel, yet know nothing of cruelty. ❞ ❝ you just stick with me, i’ve always time for you. ❞ ❝ you look a little down and so i was just wondering, would you perchance fancy a song right now? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling we’re starting off on the wrong foot. ❞ ❝ a harsh winter is coming for you. and i’m afraid you’ve brought it on yourself. ❞ ❝ i was unkind last time. forgive my indiscretions there...or don’t. but i wished to apologize. ❞ ❝ don’t suppose i can talk you into fighting back this time? ❞ ❝ go occupy yourself someplace else. ❞ ❝ don’t feel bad! it had to happen! but if it’s any consolation, it’ll probably happen again! ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. ❞ ❝ wine does have a rather special way of making everybody look even more beautiful than ever. ❞ ❝ i am not interested in having company, especially from you. ❞ ❝ my faith is prone to shakiness sometimes. ❞ ❝ you’re not your father, thank the gods. ❞ ❝ i’d ask you to join me for a drink, but i know you’ve a task ahead of you, and liquor dulls the senses. ❞ ❝ you’re more stubborn than your father. i never thought that such a thing was possible. ❞ ❝ remember, next time, that on my whim i can take everything from you. ❞ ❝ haven’t we had more than enough of each other by now? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling i’m being watched. ❞ ❝ you’ve berated me repeatedly and often. ❞ ❝ you ever lose somebody dear to you? ❞ ❝ as you grow long in years, perhaps you shall learn better judgement as to whom to trust, and whom to never, ever disrespect. ❞ ❝ sometimes things weigh heavily on me, but then i hear from you, and it’s like i don’t have a care in the world. ❞ ❝ stay focused on the hunt, and it’ll help keep the pain at bay. ❞ ❝ you are just so spontaneous, and i’ve a liking for that sort of thing! ❞ ❝ no one gets out of here, whether dead or alive. ❞ ❝ what is it that you’re after, really...? ❞ ❝ don’t take my silence the wrong way, all right? ❞ ❝ that’s terrible...wish there was something i could do to help. ❞ ❝ your unpredictability is one of your assets. ❞ ❝ do not throw away your life as i did mine. ❞ ❝ you do not take all your defeats to heart, do you? that’s good. ❞ ❝ the fates can twist intentions. i don’t want to take the risk. ❞ ❝ sometimes you make me feel alive again. ❞ ❝ why...i was much stronger once, than this... ❞ ❝ sometimes i wish i knew more about your past. ❞ ❝ you shall not goad me into anger with a petty insult such as that. ❞ ❝ we’ve been through a lot, and i think we’ll be going through a lot more yet. ❞ ❝ feelings we shared...they faded, with time. ❞ ❝ learn well to shut that foolish mouth of yours, or i shall shut it for you. ❞ ❝ i knew so many warriors who would throw away their lives for glory, believing that the gods were on their side; refusing to consider that their opponents felt the very same. ❞ ❝ you didn’t need to vent all that inner turmoil onto me throughout my life. ❞ ❝ swear to me that you shall never repeat what you are about to hear. swear it! ❞ ❝ sometimes i wonder what’s going through your head. ❞ ❝ i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. ❞ ❝ i heard you got yourself into another mess that needed cleaning up. ❞ ❝ you have a good heart. keep listening to it. ❞ ❝ you picked sides, and things are not the same. ❞ ❝ all the terrible choices i’ve made. by the time you have existed for as long as i have, pray youo will have made fewer. ❞ ❝ i must admit i have grown fond of you. ❞ ❝ please open your mind to the fact that there are those who care about your wellbeing. ❞ ❝ i know you mean well. from the bottom of my heart, i thank you truly for the thought. ❞ ❝ how can somebody be so brash yet hate to take unnecessary risks? ❞ ❝ i know we can’t exactly change the past, but we can try to move forward. ❞ ❝ you didn’t answer my question. though, you know something? forget i asked. ❞ ❝ just checking in on you, but i’ll be on my way again shortly. ❞ ❝ you would speak to me of foolish mistakes? ❞ ❝ do not question my power. ❞ ❝ there is no point in doing it but pride. and pride is dangerous. ❞ ❝ i must admit, your strength of will is quite inspiring. ❞ ❝ i don’t hate you. i don’t think i can ever hate you. ❞ ❝ i've decided not to kill you. no sport in cornered prey. ❞ ❝ i never thought i’d hear you talking about looking forward to working. you feeling alright? ❞ ❝ it has been far too long. although, the passing of the time was very kind. ❞ ❝ i have been thinking on this for some time, and i’ve a declaration i must make: i shall hear no more of your silver-tongued lies. ❞ ❝ oh good, somebody’s here to save me from myself. ❞ ❝ i wonder how much more insulting you could be. ❞ ❝ may i have this dance for old time’s sake? ❞ ❝ no matter how far you run, it doesn’t make your problems go away. ❞ ❝ i ever tell you you’re a real sweetheart? because, if not, i’m telling you right now. ❞ ❝ oh don’t worry, i’ll be back in fighting shape in no time. ❞ ❝ it’s not that i’m upset or anything. you know i’m not, but truthfully i’m a bit annoyed. ❞ ❝ you’ve got quite the fighting spirit in there, i have to say. ❞ ❝ ...answer me something. what am i to you, exactly, as of late? ❞ ❝ if you’ve not anger enough for it yet, you’ll learn, i promise you. ❞ ❝ i shall bring desolation upon those who wrong you. ❞ ❝ you know nothing of tempers if mine is your frame of reference. ❞ ❝ let me save you lots of future suffering: i happen to be the jealous type. ❞ ❝ i was really hoping we could change the subject. please? ❞ ❝ finally you cleared the mess you caused. ❞ ❝ i never grew accustomed to the air, up here. it gusts senselessly whichever way it pleases. ❞ ❝ i need your help with something. as i’m about to risk it all. ❞ ❝ love tends to blossom in the strangest places at the strangest times. ❞ ❝ normally they grovel, then they scream. they shut up eventually, but not you. at least, not yet. ❞ ❝ you know, you ain’t near as bad as i’d heard! ❞ ❝ so now you know. but, only half the truth. ❞ ❝ you are and always will be an insufferable brat. ❞ ❝ they say both gods and mortals are notoriously poor at estimating how long it takes to get anything done. ❞ ❝ flattery never got me anywhere with you to begin with. doesn’t mean i won’t keep trying. ❞ ❝ i’m warning you, i’m not susceptible to bribes. many have tried. ❞ ❝ by my estimation, you have slain at least a thousand souls. ❞ ❝ everyone’s saying i went easy on you. ❞ ❝ no, on quite the contrary i’ve been under no impression that avoiding conflict is an option here. ❞ ❝ you really won’t tell me anything about you? you’re just going to leave me to speculate, forever? ❞ ❝ fears, i think, are born of ignorance. ❞ ❝ i don’t exactly know the ways of mortals. ❞ ❝ it’s not just you swept up in all this nonsense now. you didn’t ask for me to get involved but what did you expect? ❞ ❝ if only i had wisdom such as yours, so that i was more capable of picking up on subtle jabs and insults such as that. ❞ ❝ did i detect some hesitance on your part just then? perhaps you knew that you were making a mistake. ❞ ❝ i need you in my life! how can you just...turn me away like this? ❞ ❝ no. no mournful speeches. now get out of my way. ❞ ❝ you needn’t lavish me with your faint praise. ❞ ❝ our memories are warnings. when you have lived as long as i have, you come to understand your weaknesses. ❞ ❝ you speak none of this, to anyone! ❞ ❝ it seems to me your strength outweighs your smarts ❞ ❝ you’re really too much for me sometimes, you know that? ❞ ❝ you speak as one who’s not experienced war. ❞      ❝ you’re looking kind of down. normally you’re all smiles, for whatever reason. ❞ ❝ your heart shall never carry you astray. ❞ ❝ it almost sounds as though you’ve broken up with me. ❞ ❝ come now, i don’t think that’s anything to be concerned about. ❞ ❝ where did you steal that kingly blade you’re brandishing about? it seems ill-fitting for one such as you. ❞ ❝ you overstep your bounds with me. but i shall make you fall right back in line. ❞ ❝ if there’s one thing i’ve learned since we met, it’s that the trust we share is at the very foundation of our relationships. ❞ ❝ it is woefully infrequent that i’ve cause for this, but i do have to thank you. ❞ ❝ so you’re realizing now that your entire image of me came from your imagination, is that it? ❞ ❝ sorry, my lips are sealed. how about we change the subject? ❞ ❝ you mistook me for someone who blindly follows orders without considering the implications. ❞ ❝ you, in a healthy relationship? why yes, that i have to see. ❞ ❝ you won’t tell me anything about you? you’re just going to leave me to speculate, forever? ❞ ❝ oh, would you look at whom i found, all by their lonely self. ❞ ❝ sometimes our tempers get the best of all of us. you’re fortunate mine didn’t get the best of you back there. ❞ ❝ you really need to learn to stop meddling in others’ affairs. ❞ ❝ was just thinking about you. ❞ ❝ the mortal concept of what constitutes as a hero is absurd. ❞ ❝ i may not be the one to kill you. but i’ll soften you up for whoever does. ❞ ❝ i have been waiting for a special moment to confess my great appreciation for your deeds. this moment’s special enough, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ all mortal life is fragile; it simply is a struggle to survive. ❞ ❝ it wasn’t any of my business to pry into your personal life. i should have asked. ❞ ❝ what do you say we deal some death together? ❞ ❝ the more you step away from your responsibilites, the less you shall want anything to do with them. ❞ ❝ what we were once, i wonder if it’s but a falsely ringing memory of mine... ❞ ❝ in all your boundless intellect, i’d have expected you would know i see through your intentions, plan as day. ❞ ❝ ii shall not lie to you again. that much, i swear. ❞ ❝ oh, i don’t have the heart to keep exacting vengeance on you. ❞ ❝ privileges are earned, not begged for. ❞ ❝ i thought we had an understanding. but, this wouldn’t be the first time i was wrong about someone. ❞ ❝ i have every confidence you’ll someday clamber from the shadows into the light. ❞ ❝ no paradise awaits you. ❞ ❝ did you miss me? i thought i’d steal away a bit and that together we might make up for lost time. ❞ ❝ when blood is spilled and death is dealt, i simply cannot remain discontented for too long. ❞ ❝ unlike my present company, i do not ask too many questions. ❞ ❝ what’s life without a little pain. ❞ ❝ i would do anything that you would ask of me. ❞ ❝ such a waste, all for your foolish pride, that you should care more to be remembered by those you shall never know than to be loved... ❞ ❝ look, if you don’t feel the same way about me at this point, i would rather know. ❞ ❝ you chose to die in glory, not to live in peace...and all for what? ❞ ❝ what’s the matter there? gone awful quiet. did i hurt your feelings? ❞ ❝ please, if not for your sake, then for mine...do not return. ❞ ❝ you blame your ancestors for your own weakness? ❞ ❝ i still grow frustrated with myself quite often and don’t always know whom to turn to. ❞ ❝ i’ll just remain here, comfortably at rest, for some untold millenia. ❞ ❝ the world has a limitless capacity for pain. ❞ ❝ well, if you do require some emotional support, know that i likely shall be standing over here. ❞ ❝ you’re not fooling anybody with your feigned benevolence, you know. ❞ ❝ i'm just an old killer, yet you treat me like i’m the one who’s royalty around here. ❞ ❝ life and death are inextricable, and war is often what connects the two. ❞ ❝ someday or night you shall look back on this, and thank me. ❞ ❝ i can no longer tolerate my life here in this place. ❞ ❝ they said you were headed this way. i said i’d stop you. ❞ ❝ if you were being too pushy, you better believe i would have put you back in your place, royalty or not. ❞ ❝ i am leaving, even if it kills me. ❞ ❝ hey, can’t ever be too careful when it comes to people’s past and feelings and stuff, right? ❞ ❝ should you ever go to war...do look me up. i imagine i would take your side. ❞ ❝ have you given any thought to just...leaving me alone, and going back to wherever it is you came from? ❞ ❝ and here i was beginning to think we had something special going. ❞ ❝ i’m worried you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing yourself past your limits. ❞ ❝ whoever it was you used to be, i believe you’ve changed. ❞ ❝ i’m no mere mortal. ❞ ❝ i suppose this must be what it’s like to be a god. being shown affection such as this. ❞ ❝ admittedly i was quite good at it, but i was nothing other than a killer. ❞ ❝ no need to get emotional, is there? i’m not the sentimental type. ❞ ❝ all that pent-up rage behind your smiling words... ❞ ❝ don’t ever fall for mortals. use them if you must, but do not waste your love on those who waste away. ❞ ❝ i was never terribly fearful of gods. they seem to have their struggles much like mortals do. ❞ ❝ i would ask you to think of your well-being for the time, not mine. ❞ ❝ must say you’re very good at hiding your worries. ❞  ❝ anger fades. anger burns hot, then burns out. what’s left is a dull ache. ❞ ❝ you have much to be proud of. you’re a great warrior. a great instructor. a great friend. ❞ ❝ you must know the seven types of love by now, don’t you? why, i have several types of love for you! ❞ ❝ sometimes i fear i shall develop some sort of grudging respect for you. ❞   ❝ as you grow long in years, you gain more burdens and responsibilities, until they bind you. ❞ ❝ you’re being very nice to me, and that makes me suspicious, understand? ❞ ❝ you like me? i never thought, i...don’t know why that sounds so strange, coming from you. ❞ ❝ just know that...if you feel the way i do...you know where to find me. ❞ ❝ i still have feelings for you, i think. ❞ ❝ you’re a god. i’m telling you to learn to act like one. ❞ ❝ we were invincible together, weren’t we? though, i have never missed those days... ❞ ❝ i like being on my own and all, but it’s been nice, talking to you like this. ❞ ❝ you’ve done more for me than i’ve any right to expect, from anyone. ❞ ❝ the heart can make us do the strangest things, can’t it? ❞ ❝ i would never have been remotely prepared for everything i’ve had to face, if not for all your guidance. and i don’t just mean the violent stuff. ❞ ❝ you’re not so bad, you know that? careful with that, or you’ll undermine the ruthless reputation you have. ❞ ❝ well, for all his failings, i’m thankful that he did not teach you how to hate. ❞ ❝ i don’t know that i hate anybody, really. ❞ ❝ why am i never proud of you? don’t take it personally. i’m never proud of anything. ❞ ❝ there are a myriad of tales to be told, of both great deeds and of vainglorious defeats, and this has been a tale that falls somewhere in the middle. ❞ ❝ why your path keeps on crossing mine, i’ve not the slightest clue. ❞ ❝ there is no replacing your presence. i felt that before we ever met, and now i know for sure. ❞ ❝ mortals are so bent on clinging to their lives, that many among them would gladly kill for it. ❞ ❝ listen to me. i don’t know how else to put this, but, i want you to come home. ❞ ❝ i think we understand something of loss, now, don’t we? ❞ ❝ hey, look, i can tell you’re struggling right now... ❞ ❝ you must know i often hunger for destruction, almost uncontrollably at that. ❞ ❝ you still have no idea how to be up front with me, do you. why don’t you tell me why you’re here, and what you want. ❞ ❝ the destruction you have sown, the sheer carnage...nothing can surpass that. ❞ ❝ i do not think i ever would have asked for help, at any point, because...i don’t entirely know how. ❞ ❝ but hope alone is worthless without action, is it not? ❞ ❝ as bloodshed has become somewhat of a necessity in my situation, i am very grateful that you’re with me in this. ❞ ❝ many mortals strive for greatness all their lives, never quite realizing there is no existing formula for it. not even a specific definition for it. ❞     ❝ there are aspects of my country that i miss, from time to time. the stark, bright beauty of that strange, wondrous land. ❞     ❝ pride is perhaps our family’s worst trait. ❞ ❝ i think for many of us, it can come as a surprise to learn that love and war often go hand in hand. ❞ ❝ you don’t have what it takes. ❞ ❝ had a feeling i would find you all alone out here. ❞ ❝ quit messing with my heart. ❞ ❝ swear something to me. that you’ll discard your fears about our bond. ❞ ❝ each time we fight...i think i learn a little more. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing to me anymore. ❞ ❝ say, you must know a lot of big shots, don’t you? other gods and all that? ❞ ❝ i trust, from time to time, you stop to ask yourself how come you choose to fight. ❞ ❝ you cannot change the course that has been set. try all you like. ❞      ❝ we don’t all share the same demeanor, nor see eye to eye. though all of us, i think, wish you the best. ❞ ❝ i’ve known great men throughout my life, and i can always tell when someone’s better than their circumstances. ❞ ❝ i am quite capable of making your life plenty difficult. ❞ ❝ i bet whoever it is that loves you...it’s because of who you are. ❞ ❝ i lay the blame entirely upon you, yes. who else? ❞ ❝ i think, deep down, you are not the heartless harbinger of retribution that you want everyone to think you are. ❞     ❝ in my domain, you either find your place, or you learn your place. ❞ ❝ you have no idea how good you’ve had it here. maybe someday you’ll come to understand. ❞ ❝ do not mess with me right now. ❞
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