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luxwritesfanfic · 4 years ago

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Don’t Take The Money

Poor reader thought it would end up being a normal Sunday but that must’ve been the mix of bleach and Pinesol fumes getting to their head. Or, the one where reader finds out they have more in common with the other woman in Sherlock’s life than they thought and Sherlock has an aneurysm at the revelation. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were just waking up when Sherlock was moving around the bedroom trying to pack his overnight bag. You groaned at the noise of drawers being opened and hangers jostled and rolled over onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Sherlock? You’re leaving?”

He stopped in his tracks back towards the closet and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. He looked down at you with fondness that so many people thought he was incapable of feeling and as always, it made your heart swell. Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, you relished in his undivided attention.

“A case was brought to my attention. I won’t be gone for long, it’s a few towns over.” He insists, trying to ease your worries before they arise.

Although you’d miss him, it never did anyone any good when Sherlock was bored. He needed something to keep him occupied and you needed time to clean up the drywall shrapnel that constantly covered the couch due to the boredness. It would give you the opportunity to deep clean the flat and the idea wasn’t so bad.

“Is John going too?” Sherlock nodded. You don’t know why you asked, they always worked together.

You turned your head to kiss his palm and sat up to get out of bed. “Okay. I’ll make you breakfast before you guys leave. Nobody likes train food anyway.”

Sherlock moved to help you stand, one of the smiles he reserved just for you gracing his lips. “You take excellent care of me. But you should know, you don’t have to be useful for this to mean something to me.”

He caught you off guard, but he usually did when he read you like a book. Your whole life you’d made yourself useful and you weren’t sure if people liked you for you or for the fact that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them. You would do anything and everything for Sherlock and it didn’t have anything to do with being useful, honestly. You loved him dearly and you couldn’t imagine treating him like you felt anything less than that. You couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Omelettes or pancakes?”

—

Your shirt was soaked from washing the dishes and you smelled like a mixture of bleach and formaldehyde from scrubbing the fridge clean and removing the severed head that took up the space where your coffee creamer should be. You had done more loads of laundry than you could count, bleached the bloodstained tub from Sherlock’s latest pig quest, the entire flat smelled like Bahama breeze and you couldn’t be more content. The boys weren’t due back for a day or two so you figured you’d spend some time with Mrs. Hudson when you were done and see if you could meet up with Bucky and Greg for lunch. When you passed the kitchen on your way to your bedroom to change, you decided that this may be the only chance you ever get to clear off the dining room table. Sherlock’s science equipment had overrun it and you figured it wouldn’t hurt if you straightened it up just a bit.

You were in the midst of cleaning out Sherlock’s beakers when you heard the knock on the door. Figuring that John would have posted on his blog that they weren’t currently taking clients because they were on a case, you expected to see Mrs. Hudson and the mop she was letting you borrow. You cracked the door just enough to see who was on the other side and was surprised to see an older woman holding a plate of baked goods who wasn’t Mrs. Hudson.

“Hi... how can I help you?”

The woman in question’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and you weren’t sure why. She smiled and gestured to the platter in her hands. “Is Sherlock Holmes here?”

She must be a client, you thought. Shaking your head, you responded, “No, sorry! The boys off on a case. I’m a friend of theirs. Is there something I can help you with?”

She was looking past you into the flat and you weren’t sure what she was looking for. “Do you mind if I come in? I could really use a cup of tea. And I wanted to drop these cookies I made for Sherlock off.”

You looked at what she was holding and decided it wouldn’t really hurt to let her in, and the cookies looked amazing. Sherlock must have helped her in some way.

“Sure, come on in. Sorry about my clothes... I’ve been doing some spring cleaning.” You stepped aside and let her in. “So, are you a client of his?”

She went to place the platter on the table and you were excited that it was already worth cleaning off the table. “Not quite. I’ve known him his whole life and have loved him even longer.” She turned and smiled at you, seeing through you in a way that seemed eerily close to Sherlock.

You hummed, taking in her answer. Sherlock didn’t talk much about his friends, so you weren’t surprised that you never heard of her.

“Just a minute, I’m gonna change.”

You excused yourself to the bedroom where your phone was charging on the bed. After sending Sherlock a quick text that someone who wasn’t a client was here for him, you dug around in the closet for something clean and more appropriate.

The lady didn’t really seem like a threat and you were sure if it came down to it, you’d be able to protect yourself. You could chuck the skull on the mantle if need be, it was a hard hitter.

When you returned, she was wandering around the flat and looking at all of the pictures of you, Sherlock, and John that you’d recently framed and put out.

“You and Sherlock, you’re close, yes? Tell me about him. It’s been so long.” She was holding a picture that you took of you two in the back of a taxi. Sherlock was on his phone but you thought his hair looked extra good and the golden hour light made him look like an angel so you had to take the picture.

“Yeah, I mean. He’s a seriously great person. A brilliant detective, he’s so smart. He helps all these people for free, and he never complains if they don’t offer him anything. He hates when I tell him he’s a godsend but who else would do that? Um... he’s really funny, probably one of the funniest people I know. You just have to keep up with his humor. It can be kind of dry, but it’s there. He’s one of the most loyal people there is and he’d do anything for the people he cares about.”

It was so easy for you to speak so highly of him. It was like second nature.

“He can be stubborn sometimes, and he can be a little more blunt than he needs to be but... he’s amazing. There’s no other way to explain him, really. He’s got a light that comes from him that rivals the sun and I don’t think it could ever be dimmed.”

She turned back to you and slowly broke out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen someone wear. “You really love my son.”

“Your son?” You blinked, unsure of what was going on. You really started to look at the woman in front of you and you realized Sherlock had her eyes. A complete copy and paste. “Oh my God, you’re Sherlock’s mom. I never even introduced myself. I’m Y/N, a friend of-”

“You’re not his friend, dear, and I’m not blind. Old age takes a lot from you, but I could never miss the way my son shines. And you... you see it too.” She walked up to you, still holding the picture frame in her hands. “You love my son in a way that no one else has. Let me tell you all about him.”

—

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Sherlock’s mom had brought over tons of scrapbooks and old pictures that she had acquired over the years, and you had a feeling she knew you were here alone before she even knocked on the door. Mycroft, probably. You spent the whole day getting to know each other and taking a stroll down memory lane with her telling you all about Sherlock as a kid and how it was growing up with two geniuses as sons. She even gave you a copy of one of Sherlock’s high school pictures that you were going to cherish forever. She seemed so happy to have someone to talk to and assured you that spending time with you was the closest she had felt to Sherlock in a long time.

You insisted that she stay and let you make dinner, but she was as equally stubborn as Sherlock and ordered you takeaway as her treat. You tried to argue but she was having none of it. “My God, you scrubbed this whole flat clean. I’m not going to let you dirty your dishes. How does Chinese sound?”

—

Sherlock barreled up the steps with all the force he could muster in his legs and rushed in to see you, perfectly fine and all in one piece, having dinner with his mother.

“Sherlock!” You both exclaimed, his mother full of excitement and you full of worry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, standing up from your end of the couch. “I thought you were on a case? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been texting and calling you all day! You’re that daft that you couldn’t text back once all this time?” He’s still out of breath and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His tone is exasperated and you could hear the mix of anxiety and relief in his voice as he’d yet to acknowledge his mother. She seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch the situation unfold, amusement at her son’s unusual outburst gracing her features.

“My phone was dead! And then I put it on the charger and I forgot about it once your mom came, by the way!” You went to the bedroom and retrieved your phone to find a dozen missed texts and calls.

Probably just a client. SH

11:07 AM

Are you sure it’s not a client? SH

11:43 AM

Are they still there? SH

1:00 PM

Missed Call

1:17 PM

Missed Call

2:03 PM

Call me back. SH

3:26 PM

Y/N, I’m on a case. Call me back. SH

3:44 PM

Missed Call

4:13 PM

Is everything alright? SH

4:52 PM

Missed Call

5:08 PM

Missed Call

5:10 PM

Missed Call

5:12 PM

I’m boarding the train now and I’ll be there soon. Don’t worry. SH

5:21 PM

Sherlock followed after you, still without ever acknowledging his mother, and shut the door after himself. With his palms braced against the wooden door, he tried to ease the tension out of his bones through a deep breath as he watched you check your phone. He wasn’t worried about the case at all. It was mostly solved and what little was left John could do with ease. He felt the weight of the missed calls in his stomach like lead and the three hour train ride that he couldn’t curse to defy time any quicker. He had plenty of enemies and you had virtually none, so there would be no reason to think you’d hesitate to assist anyone who came to his door, especially if it was in the name of helping him. He thought he’d walk into a crime scene and he couldn’t shake those images out of his head.

You got up from the bed and walked over to him, reaching to wrap one arm around his neck and to take his hand in yours in the other. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and then to his chin, over his eyelids, his nose, and then lastly you met his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” in between every kiss. He didn’t usually voice it, but you had known him long enough to know when he was upset. He relaxed into your touch as he always did and you pulled away from him long enough to pull on the ends of his scarf. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me help. We got takeaway for your mom and I but we can share mine. I got what you like anyway.”

He let you pull his scarf and jacket off and you were delighted to see he wasn’t really mad with you. You hang his jacket on the closet door and by the time you turn back to face him, he’s already making his way back out to the living room. Following after him, you see his mother gesturing him to come over.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told Mycroft to tell you I was away on business.” He was messing with the cuffs on his sleeves but his question was directed at his mother with unmistakable intent. She tsked at him, and you began to see even more similarities in their mannerisms.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, William. I was spending some time with your darling partner here and I don’t even get a kiss or a hug?” She began gathering her belongings and threw her purse over her shoulder. You weren’t happy to see her go.

You did peak up at the name. “William? Your name is William?”

Sherlock groaned, ignoring you completely. You swore you could see a blush dusting his cheeks. In no time he was at the door, holding it open for his mother. “It’s getting rather late, don’t you agree? Father must be wondering where you are. Be sure to pay Mycroft a visit the next time you’re in town. I assure you, he always has time for family.”

She turned to you and blew you a kiss. “I had a great time with you today, I hope you’ll manage to bring Sherlock home more.”

Walking over to Sherlock, she paused to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “I know you know what you could lose here. So be sure you don’t, Sherlock.”

Before she totally stepped out of the flat, she turned around one last time. “Promise me you’ll come home soon. Your father and I miss you dearly.”

“I heard you the first ten times. Goodnight and safe travels, mother.” Sherlock shut the door before his mother could get another word and your shoulders slumped.

“Hey, that was your mom! She’s really nice. We had a good day.” You started to clean up the coffee table and take the dishes into the kitchen. You couldn’t understand Sherlock’s relationship with his family but you were sure there was a lot of things you didn’t know. Still, it was nice to have a chance to bond with your (maybe one day) future family. It was then that you realized that Sherlock never said anything when his mother mentioned you being his partner. You two never really officially defined what you were, so to see him not object to an actual title made you feel all warm inside.

“No, you had a good day. I was trying to work a case and clear a man’s name while trying to figure out if I’d come home to you kidnapped or dead.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, watching you from the doorway. You looked back at him as you dropped the dishes into the sink and let out a sigh. You hated the fact that you let him down.

“I have to go back tomorrow to tie some loose ends with John. If you come with me, I have a feeling I’ll get over it a lot quicker.” His voice was quiet but full of mirth. He won’t hold this over your head, and you both know this, but if it makes him feel better you’ll follow him. You’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and off the edge if he lead you.

Sherlock pushed himself off of the doorway and walked towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

“So, you’re staying home tonight?” You swung around the kitchen doorway and called out to the hall. You hadn’t even thought about Sherlock having to go back, and you couldn’t help but be excited that he would be there for you to fall asleep next to tonight.

“You didn’t expect me to make the trip back at this hour, did you? Besides, I sleep better with you and it’s obvious that I don’t focus well if you’re not around, Which is why I need you to come with me tomorrow. It seems you owe me, anyway.” Sherlock takes a step back so you can see him in the bedroom doorway, and you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s so beautiful, you think, all alabaster skin and lean muscle. He’s pulling a t-shirt over his head and you wonder if you could manifest a photographic memory long enough to commit him to memory. Of course he notices you staring, and you almost want to mention all the times you catch him staring at you but he changes the subject and opens the blankets for you and you shut up and follow him. You follow him and you love him and you wake up in the morning at the crack of dawn to run downstairs and order coffee from the shop next door before your train leaves, being sure to get them to write “William” on the cup. Sherlock doesn’t find this funny at all, but he still lets you fall asleep on his arm on the train ride there and doesn’t complain when his arm falls asleep right along with you.

He thinks that if this is the life his mother wished for him as a child, that would be one thing he could take off of his list of things she eventually needs to answer for. Because mothers know best, and when it came to you, she could have never been more right.

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reidgraygubler · 3 years ago

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Spoonful of Sugar (spencer reid/reader)

Title: spoonful of sugar

Request: yes! (a super fluffy spence x reader one shot in which she's sick with the flu, a high fever or something similiar, so he has to take care of her. Usually i'm not that super whiny and wouldn't request things like that buuut i'm in a desperate need for spence to take care of me while i'm ill and home alone.)

Couple: Spencer Reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, anxiety about an ill partner, none that I can think of. If something does need to be tagged, please message me

Word Count: 1,638

Summary: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu

A/N: sorry this took so long to get posted. i forgot I had it written and it was just sitting in my drafts. it is a little on the shorter side... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The person who usually slept beside me did not sleep last night. I only know that because whenever they tossed and turned, it’d wake me up. But also, they kept stealing all the blankets from me. Whenever I tried to take them back, they’d wake up and steal them again. Or they’d be suddenly up in a coughing fit. And then, they finally fell asleep around the time I had to get out of bed for work. Leaving me with another restless night of sleep. I was used to it at this point, but not because of them.

When I left the bedroom, I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to be the reason why they woke up for the day. Clearly something was on their mind and keeping them up. I also made sure they had all of the blankets on their body. While I did that, I sneakily rested my hand on their forehead, and the back of their neck, just to check their temperature.

They were on fire. I’d never felt someone as hot as that in a very long time. It would explain why they got no sleep and kept waking up, and stealing the blankets. They’d need to get medicine and fluids in them, and quickly. But I’ll do that when I’m finished getting ready. They just fell asleep and I’d rather them sleep off their fever.

So that’s what I did. I quickly got ready for work, doing all the necessary things I had to do. I wanted to make sure my person had everything they needed before I left for work.

Which meant a quick stop at the market down the street. The market had their favorite soup, juice, and snacks. If I was going to go into work today, I needed to make sure they had everything they needed before I left for the day. And if they wanted me to stay, I’d do that for them.

“Hey Emily, I’m going to be late to the office today,” I said into my phone as I grabbed a basket. The store had several people, just enough for me to be cautious of where I was going. And it pressured me to be even quicker inside.

“Oh! Of course! Is everything okay?” Emily asked, the concern in her tone sounding genuine. I sighed before nodding.

“Yeah, just... Just need to take care of someone who’s sick,” I explained as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice.

“Take all the time you need! We got everything covered here.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, call me if you need anything!” She proclaimed before bidding farewell. I sighed deeply before pocketing my phone and headed towards the deli to get some soup. They always gave me chicken noodle, with the good thick egg noodles. Since they also enjoyed White Chicken Chill, I got that for them, too. Anything to make them feel better sooner.

Once I got both soups, enough juice for a small household, and plenty of healthy snacks, I made the trek back home. Whether they enjoyed the things I got them or not, I knew they’d enjoy the thought. Because that’s all that matters, right? The thought?

When I got home, I prepared the chicken noodle in a bowl, and grabbed a bottle of juice with electrolytes, and brought it to the bedroom. They were still asleep, however slightly stirring. Instead of just leaving right away, I waited a moment for them to wake up.

“My head is pounding,” they groaned as they brought a hand to rest on their forehead. “Like I drank a fifth of whiskey,” they added. I held back my chuckle and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re hot.”

“Thanks so are you,” they blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head.

“You have a fever, Dear,” I corrected as I handed them the bottle of juice. “I got you soup, juice, and healthy snacks.”

“You’re too kind, Spencer,” they hummed as they struggled to open the bottle. I watched as they sighed and handed the bottle over to me. I smiled as I cracked the bottle open.

“I have to go in, but if you want me to stay I can.” I handed the bottle back to them. They smiled brightly before taking a big sip of the juice.

“No, no, you’re the breadmaker here. You’d be no use to me here.”

“I can help you,” I breathed out a laugh. They lazily smiled before shrugging. “I’m gonna get you medicine.”

“If you don’t come back with Day and Nyquil, don’t come back at all,” they teased. I laughed as I looked back at them.

“Eat your soup, I’m getting you medicine,” I repeated as I pointed at the bowl of chicken noodle on the nightstand. They glared at me before picking up the bowl. I was quick, grabbing the medicine they asked for and a bottle of Aleve.

“Do you need anything else?” I looked down at them as I placed the bottles on the nightstand. They shook their head as they looked back at me, watching as I sat back down beside them.

“I’m all good here.”

“I can stay if you need me to,” I whispered as I looked over at them. They looked away from the bowl of soup with wide eyes. “Surely Emily won’t care. Family first.”

“As much as I’d love for you to stay, Spence, they need you just as badly there,” my person slurred their words. I could only imagine just how congested their sinuses and how blocked their nasal passages were. Which would only cause a migraine. “Besides, I don’t want to get you sick. You’re a baby when you’re sick.” They smirked at me.

“Am not!” I exclaimed as I looked at them. They shrugged before rubbing the underside of their nose. Should have grabbed them tissues while I was at the store. “Seriously, I’ll stay.”

“Seriously, go to work.”

“If I didn’t know any better it sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“I am,” they mumbled as they blew softly onto their spoonful of soup. I rolled my eyes before standing up off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I lifted my hands as a sign of surrender. They looked up at me with a soft smile. “Good to know you can get rid of me so easily.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything.” They placed the soup back on the nightstand before shifting down the bed.

“And I’ll let Emily know I’ll be on desk duty.”

“Spencer,” they warned.

“I’m going! I’m going! Gone! See! Gone!”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

I should have stayed home.

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, maybe Spencer should have stayed home because… I really miss him. I thought I’d be fine if he went in, and I’d get by… But I really want him. God I’m never whiny and asking for things, and the only thing I want… I sent it away.

I could call him… He’d drop everything and come right over. But… He should work. There is a reason why I sent him to work. That was where he was most needed. What if I was wrong though? What if he was most needed here, with me? No, no he’s the brain of the BAU.

But it’d be really nice if he stayed home with me.

Yeah, I made a mistake sending him to work. I’ve never felt so clingy in my entire life. Damn my stupid clinginess.

Did he know I was thinking about him? I must’ve, because he was calling me. Probably just checking in on me. I could ask him to come home. Unless he’s in the middle of helping a case and can’t come home.

“How are you feeling?” Yep, just calling to see how I was doing. It was probably a good thing that he was calling me. He probably just knew I wasn’t feeling any better.

“Could be better,” I paused as I looked over at his side of the bed. It was made but a little tousled around because of my sleeping. “Kinda wish you stayed here,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Already on the way home,” he stated like it was no big deal.

“Really?” I asked, feeling a little bit of excitement in my tone. Surely it just sounded like I was stuffy to Spencer. He laughed.

“Finished early. And… Emily noticed I was too distracted thinking about you. I’m about halfway there, do you need anything?”

“You… To get here quickly and give me all the cuddles in the world,” I dramatically sighed as I curled in on my side. “But… Safely!” I quickly added.

“I will be there soon, Dear,” Spencer mused before chuckling lightly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“I’ll be home soon."

“Okay, bye,” I whispered before hanging up. I tossed my phone into the empty space beside me before curling back onto my side. Now that I knew Spencer would be home any minute, maybe I could sleep. Or maybe I should stay awake and wait for him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Spencer was crawling into bed beside me and I was slowly waking up.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled the blanket back over me. Although it felt like I was on fire, the blanket felt safe over me. Or maybe that was Spencer’s arms wrapped around me that made me feel safe.

“No, no,” I mumbled as I moved as close as possible to him. Spencer laughed lightly before pressing his lips to my forehead. “Don’t leave me again,” I whispered into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you’re a part of the taglist. it’s so much work tagging everyone.

not able to tag: @isabellasimps

@thebluetint @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @misshale21 @spenciegoob @reidspoet @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins @kuolonsyoja

@broken-stardust @beepbooptoop @ray-lia

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing.

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him. One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

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animefreak1145 · 3 years ago

Text

For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)

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Chapter 3| How Little We Know of What There is To Know

Chapter Summary:

Pretending and being numb is the key.

Yet Adler always manages to bring some emotion out of you.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma

A/N: Where pineapple is the nectar of the gods and scars are lightning.

“Bell”

Second Life

23:09 | February 25, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You rubbed your dry eyes as you stared at your notes all over the desk you’ve chosen as your little corner, the large bulky computer taking up space but you’ve made do by moving the brick that is the keyboard as much as you could off to the side. Your papers held inks of different colors—although they were only red, blue, and black and yellow highlights—and you had a stack of folders behind the computer that were from the CIA and MI6 archives. You had Kraus’ ledger off to your side, headphones on top of it for you to hear the audio of U.S. cities and numbers. Your fourth mug of coffee of the day was already gone and you would grab another just to enjoy the warm liquid to go down your throat instead of the caffeine itself, you were always one of late night’s either way.

The safehouse was quiet outside the hum of the generator and the lights above. Most of the crew gone. Outside of your absent tapping of a pen against your messy notes and the white of a nearby fan for extra circulation, the main open area of the safehouse was a desert.

If you focused deeply, you can hear mumbles and murmurs that you can’t make out coming from the office. Adler has been in there for awhile talking over the phone. To who, you don’t know but you have your suspicions. You just hope the subject is not about you being suspicious—the talk on the roof was a slight on your part earlier.

You truly don’t know what came over you. But you need to watch your mouth and expressions. Adler is perceptive, deadly and ever watchful of a person’s micro expressions and body language.

You can’t mess up.

A shot rings. And a heart splinters.

“It was never personal.”

You really can’t.

Which is why, you have been focused solely on decoding the entire day. Your eyes scanning and assessing the acquired Intel from the Volkov mission for Operation Chaos and Operation Red Circus. You have the knowledge on how to solve them but you are lacking needed Intel to help finish Operation Red Circus.

Operation Chaos was tricky. With two pieces of evidence outside of the newspaper, it being the audio log and the paper that had the coded message. Earlier in the morning, you wrote down all the possible numbers the missing parts of the code be—trying to find the pattern in the set of red and blue numbers. You were writing down the possibilities, your paper looking chaotic with arrows and numbers and cities that could coincide with said numbers.

After the quick checkup of your head with Adler, all firm and gentle touches with you keeping your eyes to the side or down as he fulfilled why he got the alias Doc—treatments of gun wounds and cuts to bayonets, complete trust he’ll take care of you as he would lecture or tighten a bandage a tad too tight in reprimand due to a reckless action—and kept quiet as he did so outside of a soft yes or no when he asked about the pain, you moved to go to work. Ignoring the feel of his gaze on you as you did so. Park coming to your desk after you moved your stuff from the center table to your chosen corner to begin, papers already everywhere and scattered as you tried to organize it in a manner you could only understand, a mug close to her mouth and a cocked brow at the mess.

“There’s a way to keep it a bit more clean and less like a junk pile,” the British woman said, amused as you made a distracted sound, squinting at the coded language in your hand as papers rustled. “And when I gave you my advice, I didn’t think you would take it so seriously. There’s a better desk you could’ve chosen as your own, Bell.”

You blinked, giving Park a confused look.

“Advice?”

Park making an obvious glance to the center table in front of the evidence board, you automatically following it. Only to turn back to your paper once you noticed Adler’s form by the table, cigarette in his hand as he stared down at his own files.

"From one woman to another, give him a wide berth."

“. . . I just needed some space to focus. I’m sure Adler wouldn’t like all my papers everywhere around him either way.” You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your head and your hand. You wanted to erase it. “But I don’t mind staying close just in case. Easier to hand things to you or him whenever I’m done.”

“Someone sounds confident,” Park commented with a sip of her coffee, making your own lips twitch for a moment as you replied that you are the best as you moved some papers around. Than, in a quiet murmur with a quick dart back to Adler’s direction, “Distractions are best to be avoided. . .”

“What was that?” You asked, placing everything in a pile as well trying to keep some of them up by leaning the papers on the computer screen and failing as they slid down. You heard Park release an exasperated humored huff through her nose just as you heard her step away only for you to have a black leather gloved hand in your face with sticky notes. “What is. . .”

“Oh come now. I am sure it’d be easier if you used these. Make sense of this chaos. I guess there is some fact of what people say about geniuses and their rooms,” she motioned the sticky note pad again as you stared at it. The papers were yellow but new. Unused, outside of a crinkle at an edge.

“Where am I?”

“Who am I?”

“What is happening?”

“Why can’t you remember?”

“D o y o u h e a r i t ? ”

“Who is Perseus?”

“Tell me who I am!”

Blood forms the words, as if with a finger.

“They want to kill you.”

“Make it stop.”

“MK”

Words pressed on the page, over and over and over with harsh penmanship and you don’t understand what’s happening. What is this room? And that man. . . Why does it hurt? Is this helping Russell?

Pain

Pain Pain боль

боль

Pain Pain

боль

Pain Pain Pain

боль боль

It hurts.

GlockeGlockeGlockeG̷̟̩͙̏͌ḽ̸̊̿o̵̦̓͝c̵̭̯̊́ḱ̷̛̼͌͊e—

You turned away back to your papers, jaw tight.

“I’m good. Sticky notes can be a pain. Thank you, Park.” Park lowered her hand, giving you a questioning stare in the back of your head. You sighed, turning your head over your lowered shoulders. “I’m going to try to finish this today but I think I’m missing a few pieces of Intel. You can give me other things to decode for MI6 in the meanwhile.”

Park frowned delicately, lowering her mug.

“That sounds like a hefty workload. And I believe it would be best if we put all our focus into Perseus for now.”

No. You have to be useful.

“It’ll be fine,” you say, searching for a paper and giving it to her while Park grabbed it. “I solved that part of the code already. The other intel we got from Kraus, I’m going to need more information in order to figure out who exactly can be Strong Man, Bearded Lady, and the Juggler. I can’t go forward with that so might as well help with other codes you guys may have trouble with. What did you imply?” You ask with faux curiosity, your lips twitching up before falling as you wrote something down. “That I’m a genius?”

“Smartarse.” Park retorted, although she seemed to still hesitate but eventually she gave you three files where they seemed to be having trouble. You getting to work immediately to help as Park walked away and you hearing later on Park and Adler head to the office.

You did your best to not think too much of it. You have to keep at your work and make sure you’re capable and on task. You rather not get jabbed.

“We got a job to do.”

And although it might be inevitable, you would rather not have those words said to you as well. Even if it didn’t seem to have the same affect as before, the feeling and how your thoughts seemed to blur came back. Being aware you moved like a puppet and were one all along is not what you would like to focus on.

After you finished two of MI6’s files—had to do with KGB and how interesting they would use some quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 1984 hidden in the code as if the man was in support of communism with the work—with a hum mixed with impressed and curiosity from Park as she looked at the solved papers, your nose twitched at the scent of smoke and leather as you worked on the last MI6 folder.

“Stealing away my protege, Park?” Your hand around the pen paused before continuing, a plume of grey gathering above you. “And here I thought we have an equal partnership when it comes to this whole Perseus business. At least tell me you’re not wasting her time?”

“I wouldn’t call it stealing if she’s willing,” Park easily replied before handing him the two files to look over that you did, Adler scanning through it as she continued. “And it still has to do with our red friends. You sure are quick with the ball, Bell.”

“It’s nothing,” you say quietly, “Can’t exactly go forward so might as well help you with other codes that others can’t solve. Just send anymore my way. You too, sir.”

Adler made a distant hum, closing the files and handing it back to Park. You felt his stare at the back of your neck as you stared at the paper in front of you that might as well be nonsense since you sensed him.

Look at him, pup.

“If you wanted a more exciting challenge Bell, you could’ve asked. Always the type to leave no stone unturned and show off.”

“‘More exciting challenge’?” Park repeated, “Think MI6 codes are all flowers and rainbows compared to those in the CIA, Adler? I believe I recall that it was only Bell that could be able to solve the dossier instead of anyone else within your organization.”

Yeah, cause you brainwashed me, you thought bitterly but the two kept going as you could only sit in between. Nice to have to be a witness between these two again.

“Bell is the best CIA decoder we have,” you tightened your jaw in surprise instead of to tense when his hand landed on your shoulder, a gentle squeeze—in comfort, in belief, in trust, in camaraderie, in everything but what you wanted and what you needed, in order to control— as you lowered the paper in your hand. “As well as having a wide range of other skills. You think I would just call in any brain dead desk sitter for this operation?”

You could see in your mind’s eye how dizzy you would get before due to all this praise. Now, you just do your best to press your lips as your chest tightened.

You felt Park shift behind you, her looking at you in appraisal.

“You are one of a kind, Bell. Shame you were born in the wrong country. Having to have Adler here as your superior.”

You huffed through your nose in dry amusement at that. Irony not lost on you.

What a curse indeed.

You turned in your chair finally, lips quirked that didn’t quite meet your eyes as you pointed your thumb towards Adler.

“You should’ve seen him in ‘Nam if you think he’s bad now. Always with the lectures.”

You felt Adler release you, watching as he took an inhale as he did a small shrug in disinterest.

“You can be stubborn, Bell. If I couldn’t beat it out of you, I’ll talk it out of you.” You looked up and you could sense his eyes looking down at you behind those shades. “Although I feel like sometimes I’m wasting my breath. Your recklessness borders on insanity.”

“I think I can see why they put the both of you together than,” Park said, brow arched towards Adler and a certain look in her eyes towards him you couldn’t quite read. It looked like a warning. But what could that look be for? “Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

They left you after that, you waving off Adler asking if you need a break. He took that as the okay to bring you CIA files for you to decode. Seems he has no trouble using you dry if you’re going to insist on it. Despite that, you took them and you were able to solve three.

Park came back towards your desk and saying you could have a break, again, you waved her off. As well as her concern you wouldn’t want to read into—is it real for you and your body, or is some sort of guilt that perhaps they gave you a strong dose for the memory exercise and you’re running on steam, is it fake or real, don’t break the puppet- so you didn’t. You telling Lazar the food you wish and him dropping it by your desk with his own comment that your brain might fall out and you saying you’ll be fine, even threw in a small joke that with his food your brain will be well nourished. Outside of your favorite brand of pumpkin seeds of course. Sims only made a stray comment about the stacks on your desk, getting tall as the day went on and turned to night. You don’t recall if you said something back. You probably did, Sims was always distant—you have trauma that’s not even real and have the gall to have some nightmares about it when he actually went through that horrible war and sees a therapist for it, you don’t know the war—so you would take what you would get.

Everyone eventually shuffled out, Park—her brows looking creased and a purse to her lips—back to the side of your desk before she left and saying you should rest and leave the rest tomorrow.

“I’ll finish the rest today,” you replied, resolute and determined as you wrote the next possible code from this possible radio station an ally of Perseus may be using. “No rest for the wicked. As they say,” you threw out additionally, an echo of her words earlier which made Park raise her brows. “It’s fine. Once I start something, I have to see it through. It helps I can be patient when it counts—at least with this.”

“You seem to take it literally. You’ve been at it since early this morning. You only moved I believe when Lazar brought your food and to use the washroom.” Once you shrugged and said that seems normal to do and you’re fine with that, you heard Park’s tone grow stronger in reprimand. “Yes, you’re fine. Tell me, is Adler stopping you from taking breaks?”

You stopped, looking at Park and her irritated expression.

“No. . . No, it’s just me.” So none of you stick me with that dreadful drug and dig around my brain. So I can show all of you I don’t need it—that you don’t need to do that. That I’m useful and more than an asset. Unneeded assets get thrown away. “I just—just don’t want to disappoint.”

"Disappoint? You've exceeded expectations at every turn, Bell. Disappoint who?"

You didn’t answer, only turned back around and continued with your pen. You heard Park mutter a curse before walking out, giving you a pat to your back and tell you you’re driving back with Adler than since he’s determined to work as well before leaving. Your eyes round down to your desk.

You’ll be alone together with him again.

You took a shaky breath, focusing on the paper in front of you.

You’ll be fine. Just keep what you’ve been doing. Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend his concern—the touch on your shoulders burned as he shook you, as if to erase your dark thoughts out of you, lifting you up with his hand easily with words of a concerned reliable friend commanding officer—is real. And his kindness—why did they save you, you’re useless, what use is an untrained dog—is real too.

Just don’t question it. You’ll go mad.

Mind your tongue as well—control yourself. You used to tease before with faux confidence when the both of you bantered, but you have to watch your spiteful and petty comments. You really don’t want him to give you a dose.

But if you feel like the path is leading you there, you have a way to get at least a semblance of control back.

Puppets don’t control the puppeteer.

“Bell.” You turned in attention, Adler by the center table as he motioned his head towards the garage door, cigarette in hand. “Time to go.”

You nodded once, getting up after fixing up your desk a bit. Grabbing your beanie turned ski mask and placing it back on your head instead of your face and walked over obediently as the both of you walked out through the side door.

Good dogs come when they listen.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Come on, you know I hate fruit cake! Just give me your pears, Singer!”

“Sorry, Bell,” Singer grinned, taking a big purposeful spoonful of pears from the can, teeth flashing. “Guess you have to deal with all of that yourself. Too bad you don’t have a connection to those who pass the MCI’s, huh?”

You quietly glared at him with no heat, the act almost making Singer choke on his precious pears that he could’ve given you. The choking action making him spit out some and towards you, you making a noise of disgust as you punched the laughing man harshly to his shoulder as vengeance. It made him wince as the others around the campsite laughed at the two of you—the sun still above and the Vietnam jungle loud with birds and the trees moving against the wind. Although not really a campsite you would say since there no fire. Can’t have any eyes on them to go towards smoke.

‘They know these jungles better than us’ as Adler says.

Speaking of Adler, you turned towards him where he leaned against a thick great Banyan tree local to this country—the trunk thick just like the branches that spiral even to the floor. They were all actually hidden in the alcove of this tree, the space enough for them until they kept going to their destination. A beautiful yet haunting tree with its dark and smooth bark all around. You overheard once by Lee and other South Vietnam soldiers in base that these trees can have spirits inside. Dangerous they said for some of them. You don’t think these ‘spirits’ ever met Adler.

You could see Adler’s lips were up in amusement due to your predicament despite his war paint, raising his brow over his black shades when he noticed your gaze.

Before you even fully lifted your hand with the can of horrendous fruit cake, he shook his head at you, lips going even more into a smile.

“Don’t even try, kid. I fucking hate fruit cake myself,” he adjusted himself against the tree and the gun in his lap. The food of his MCI basically gone outside the crackers and canned pineapple. “Disgusting things. I don’t know who’s bright idea was it to have hard pieces of fruit and dry raisins in cake.”

That’s what you’re saying!

“Please, Adler. I gave you my cigs already, at least give me some of your pineapple?”

Sims laughed beside you, nudging your shoulder with his and shaking his head in disbelief.

“You think Doc is gonna give you some of his golden nectar away? Might as well have asked him to give his cigs along with his lighter.”

“Not happening, Bell.” Adler answered casually, finishing up his crackers and swiping his hands against his pants before moving to the can. “Besides, not like you smoke anyways. The cigs would just sit there pretty in the box if you don’t hand it to me. Unless you want to try to smoke again. It went well last time.”

“Didn’t she choke?” Singer teased around a mocking grin. It made his youthful face boyish and eyes bright. “Almost hacked out a lung didn’t you?”

Larson, who was quiet between Singer and Adler, spoke up. Already finished with his food since he’s been mostly keeping to himself. This is the first official mission he’s had since he got the news. Poor guy.

“I remember that,” Larson said softly, looking towards you and you just took all their teases. You blame Adler. “It was after the drinking game between Butcher and Hamilton. You wanted to see the big deal about why everyone liked the nicotine.”

“Only for Doc to come to the rescue after Bell took one of his cigs,” Sims ended with a shit eating grin. You’ll kill him. “Surprised you’re still here and alive. Not from just avoiding choking on nothing either, but that you took a cig from him.”

“You guys bet that I couldn’t. . .” You muttered with narrowed eyes towards Sims who shushed you.

“What was that?” Adler asked, cocking his head only for Sims and Singer to shake their heads animatedly. Adler hummed doubtfully but dropped it.

“Never mind that! Just—“ You groaned, putting your head on your hands as you still held the can of fruit cake. “You think I can eat this shitty cake? The ��raisins’,” you said the word doubtfully, “could be actual pieces of shit for all I know. It could explain the taste. And how hard it can be.”

Singer and Sims snorted next to you, on both sides while Larson actually cracked a grin as you raised your head and told them strongly to think about it! Adler shook his head, watching the jungle periodically in the open spaces of the alcove which all of you did to be cautious but the fruit cake debacle must be solved.

You turned your eyes towards Sims, spotting his fruit cocktail. Only for his hand to block it.

“Nope.”

“Come on!” Sims shook his head, opening the can and eating the fruit cocktail and you scowled. “All of you are shitheads. Now I’m gonna have to eat this.”

“Damn straight you do,” Adler reaffirmed, stern yet you could spot he found your curse to all of them, him included, funny based on his arched brows. “No wasting MCI’s. You know the drill, Bell.”

You grunted unhappily at Adler, but you knew he was right. Which is why you wanted to trade in the first place. Food shouldn’t be wasted, no matter how heinous.

You took a spoonful after managing to cut into the hard cake, Sims laughing in your face and you could spot Larson keeping his smile at your disgruntled expression only for it to deepen when you took a bite.

You tried to distract yourself through bites by asking Adler how far away they were from their destination. Adler answering after they reach the next nearest foxhole which is two hours away, it will be another six till they reach where they need to be.

“Hue is a mess right now. With us additional reinforcements, we’re going to aim for stealth and go around and take out as much as we can.” Adler explained as they all attentively listened. They can’t mess up. “We’ve been able to give them a lot of damage last I heard, with one final push of us taking out some of them when they’re scrambling—we’ll consider the Battle of Hue a win. Of course, if there’s more than we can handle, we’ll stick to recon and head back around to tell command at the Hue MACV compound we have there.”

“And the civvies?” Larson asked.

“Don’t shoot ‘em.” Was all Adler said before they all moved to clean up and move on after you and Sims finished up.

You having to force to swallow and chew the cake and packing up the trash. They can’t leave anything else it can be used to track or find them.

Larson, Sims, and Singer were outside the alcove—waiting for you to finish as you smacked your lips as if that could take away the taste in your mouth as you grumbled. You moved to go out where Adler was as he stood by the opening to head out. You spotted something on the ground where he previously sat.

“You left something, sir,” you say, growing near to pick up the can. Huh, it’s not empty.

Adler turned his head over his shoulder, expression questioning.

“Whatcha mean, kid? That’s yours isn’t it?” You frowned, looking down at the can only for your eyes to widen. There was some pieces of pineapple left, a little less than half of the can gone but it’s something. He turned his head back as he muttered. “Don’t expect this to happen again. Not here to spoil you, Bell.”

“Don’t expect you to, sir.”

“Just pick up the trash and move it, kid.”

You grinned, knocking back the can and easily and quickly eating it. The juices spilling down your chin and neck but you didn’t care as you licked your lips. The taste of disgusting shit cake gone.

You packed the can quickly, swiping your chin with the back of your hand as the both of you walked to where the others were.

“Thanks,” you said to him softly.

“For telling you to pick up your trash?” Adler answered easily and you smiled knowingly but let it go.

Such a hard ass.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

The car ride was silent, passing street lights and empty cafe’s whizzing by and enlightening the car for a mere moment before it would be enveloped in darkness once more until the next light comes. You were staring out the window as they passed the streets of Berlin, the sounds of the wiper periodically occurring due to the light rain occurring. Not many people out at this time of night, nearing midnight unless you were a working girl or at the local bar. Some wisps of smoke remained in the car despite Adler on his side having his window slightly open. Your eyes watching as it moved lazily and glancing towards the quiet, relaxed man next to you before you would turn to look back out. Curious to see more of the city besides in the backstreets and being stealthy.

You didn’t see much last night after Volkov, you falling asleep in the car as Park drove you. You were too out of it when they arrived at the hotel, just absentmindedly listening and nodding along to Park’s directions and promptly knocking out once you reached your room on the bed. Only to awake once more at the alarm you or someone else must’ve set early in the morning.

You were focusing on that instead of the last time you were in the car with Adler.

“You’ll like where we’re going. Trust me.”

You took a sneaky glance towards the man once more, just as the man exhaled out a cloud of smoke that you watched. Enraptured in how it moved to and fro lithely, easily as your nose took in the smell before you glanced back at Adler, the side facing you being his ‘good’ side.

You wonder once more of his scar that accentuated this man’s beauty—all harsh lines that created a map that even now you wish to trace. For someone like this to earn the title America’s Monster, all styled wheat hair, suede shades, and an easy, wry tone—it should at least match the title.

Than again, you thought with faltering wax wings and of another—the fall of a devil with none. It was never about his looks was it?

“It’s a small price to pay.”

What does that make you?

“Alright, kid,” he says, taking out of your stupor as you stared fully at the man now. Smoke releasing out his mouth as he spoke, making you lower your gaze to it. “I’ll bite. What do you want to ask me? Must be a juicy question since you keep burning holes to the side of my face.”

Embarrassment colored your face, caught, as you quickly adjusted your gaze to straight ahead and instead watching raindrops going down the windshield.

“It’s nothing.”

“Mmm. For some reason, I can’t believe that. What did I say before?”

You said a lot of things before, you thought with a sad frown. But you knew what he was referring to. Always wants to be the one you tell all your worries and concerns to. Before, you thought it was genuine. Now, you just see it as how it was—a cloak to observe and make sure if your true real memories came or if they needed to give you a dose.

“Your scar,” you began as he tilted his head towards you, hair moving as he did so as he kept his one hand casually to the wheel while the other was leaning against his door. You didn’t get distracted by it. “How’d you get it? There’s a story there.”

“Scar?” He asked in false confusion, still stoic outside of a cocked brow and making your lips twitch up despite yourself. Before motioning with his cigarette hand towards his face. “You mean this? Is it noticeable?” At your unamused huff though your nose, he continued. “Back in ‘73, I was nearly killed by a tiger while on a mission in Malaysia. But human ingenuity still runs the animal kingdom.” He turned his head towards you when they reached a light, his brows rising above his glasses. “You ever been attacked by a tiger, Bell?”

You stared at him in disbelief before releasing a surprised snort. The nerve of this man.

“You’re lying. That’s not from a tiger, it would be worse than that. You and your need to tell stories. . .” You mumbled the last part, you don’t think he heard that.

“Didn’t know you were an expert on tigers, Bell. Got a degree in zoology under your belt that I don’t know about? What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Because—“ That’s not what you said last time. You stopped, a realization going through you. Because of course he’ll lie to you about this too. Worse kind of crowd, your ass. “If you got that from a tiger than I must be a distant cousin of Joseph Stalin.”

“That unbelievable, huh?” He said more than asked, amused at your sarcasm as you looked at him with crossed arms as the car moved once more. “Fine. I’ll give. I jumped on a roof in Calcutta back in ‘75 while chasing a Soviet agent. The jump was successful . . . the landing not so much. Advice: always know where the utility poles are.” At your deadpanned look when he glanced at you, his lips quirked into a humored smirk. “That one didn’t hit the mark for you either? Was it the jump?”

You shook your head, a small groan leaving your lips as you leaned your head against the dashboard.

“Anybody who’s anybody can jump from roof to roof,” you replied, staring at your leather boots—forehead pressed against the dashboard and maintains it there even as they turned or there was a bump. “You know that. Just like you know a utility pole would’ve either choked you or electrocuted you. At least with electrocution it’d be more scars throughout instead of that part of your face.”

“Watch the cockiness, kid.” He reprimanded but than, “You’re right though. Roof jumps the standard when it comes to our work. But you’re really confident that I don’t have any other scars throughout the rest of me. Know something I don’t?” Your eyes darted towards him, wide and as they passed a street light, you noticed he was peering down at you in turn. Your skin burned as you looked away and mumbled no while staring at your very interesting shoes. The man hummed. “How about this. You know what they say about kids falling in with a bad crowd? Let’s just say I fell in with the worst part of a bad crowd. The girl wasn’t worth it, believe me.”

At your silence, he glanced at you.

“What? That’s the one you believe?” You gave a small shrug. When he first told you that, you didn’t ask any more questions. It sounded personal the way he said it. Truthful. Adler always lies. “What makes this one believable? The lack of a specific date or are you a sucker for romance, Bell?”

You threw him a meaningful look up at him. Not feeling the need to say anything. At his arched brow though, you opened your mouth.

“Your ex-wife.” His brow flattened at that. Something shifting in the air. “Was she worth it?”

A beat. A passing of street lights. The pitter patter of rain against the car.

“A romantic than. . .Never saw you as the type.” At your probing stare and his silence, you turned away. Seeing he won’t answer—too private. You’re a fool to even think he will say the truth at all. “Once.” You blinked, turning your eyes back up and lifting your head in attention as America’s Monster—a secret, a peek through the shades, a hint of something real besides the cold, black abyss, what are you Russell Adler—spoke ever so softly. A sardonic turn of chapped lips. “You can say we had a difference of opinion. Not much to it.”

There was more but you will take what you can get.

You thought of the memories you had, of friends you once believed were your own. Of little moments in beaches and camps and villages when all was calm and not chaotic with smell of burnt bodies or blood or how it feels to stab a bayonet through someone’s chest in defense. You could see them as clearly as any other memory you had. And feel it.

You thought of the poor soldier leaving a war only to get into another one in his home country.

“Larson. . .” you murmured, Adler hearing as he released a dry chuckle.

“Sort of like Larson. The poor bastard.” You watched him take a deep inhale, the cigarette almost a near stub. And you realize when that happens, he’s stressed. As stressed as a man like him could be. You’ve seen him in many moments in Vietnam. Not always the best. You wonder if that was another reason for your death. Adler exhaled a puff before having to throw the cigarette out the window with a flick, putting the window all the way up. “I don’t see why you’re so interested either way. Scars aren’t that impressive. Unless you always had a habit about asking for one’s ugly mug.”

You darted up at his eyes, shaded as they were, trying to sense if he was being serious.

Because he couldn’t be.

Not this man, with strikes of lightning upon his face as if Zeus did it himself. All power. Grace. Strength. Different from your barely functioning wax wings as you struggle to fly. Only able to watch and hope a falling demon crashes to its death—all harsh and slow.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Perhaps he is Zeus himself.

Perhaps how Adler got his scar was harsh retribution to control lightning, his scars even mimic those powerful strikes across his face. All strength. And all beauty. Those who survived struck by lightning always have the most beautiful marks upon their skin indicating their survival—you are selfishly bias though. Even now, you admit with self-loathing. The rougher marks on his face is all grace and you could wonder how he truly got it instead of fantasizing him as a God Of Lightning who mistook his own power upon his face.

It would only make sense. Both beautiful men, although you’ve never met the Greek God.

They both also have a habit of hurting women.

He’s all of that, while you could only hope with your squeaky levers and ropes and feathered wax can go up to said Mount Olympus where he was. A naïveté where you think you’re close with tired and sore arms only to be burnt away. A free fall down to the abyss.

Good pups stay in their place.

“You’re joking.” You accuse seriously as you stared up at him, your head against the dashboard but tilted slightly in his direction.

Adler tilted his head down slightly to stare down at you, a brow arched at your look.

“About?”

You didn’t say anything.

Just meaningfully looked up at him through your lashes, staring at his jaw that was strong as if Michaelengelo carefully carved it himself with minute details with his trusted mallet and chisel until dawn with a candle on his head due to determined ingenuity. Observing how the collar of his shirt did not do a good job in hiding his neck, his favorite jacket failing in that too so you could take it in. Not one strand was mussed or out of place on his head, all volume and thickness as your gloved hand twitched by your knee.

You than met the shades, in turn meeting his eyes as your heart seemed to pound as he stared down at you back. A look passing through his eyes too quick for you to catch, besides what you saw in your peripherals. The hand on the wheel tightening an iota as the air shifted to something heavier, blood pumping as your mind thought of reasons as to why which you pushed away. Impossible.

You licked your dry lips nervously, Adler’s expression seeming to tense when his eyes followed the action. You turned away, looking back down except to play with the ends of your gloves, neck hot and spreading.

You still felt his stare before he focused back onto the road.

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride.

Foolish dog should mind their eyes.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You couldn’t sleep much when you reached your room, another floor to Adler’s and near Park’s, and not just due to how you were more one with the night.

You opened Pandora’s Box—something forbidden coming out into the world as you thought back to the meaningful stare between you and Adler in the car. That even the thought makes your heart pound once more. Your brain further muddling and melting away the more you spend time alone with that man. Whether in being caught in his pace or just the mere thought of what he’s done.

Although, you suppose you already opened a Pandora’s Box. Possibly even darker than the one you discovered.

If the monster in man’s skin was Zeus—he created the box in the first place. Except he wished to hide it from you and keep you willfully ignorant instead of tease you to release envy and greed and disease out in the world. You managed to open it—and it was none of those things, it was cruel and inhumane to you all the same.

Take this needle and follow the story, do the trick.

If only that box stayed close.

Zeus always did like to confuse.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You let out a heavy sigh, hand mussing your hair harshly as you chewed your lips, staring at the paper on the center table of the safehouse.

“Having trouble?”

You slightly jumped as Adler, who was quiet in the seat across and to the side of you, spoke. Looking mildly curious at all the papers on your side of the table before taking a small puff. You sighed, looking back down at the paper in slight frustration.

“Just a little. Whoever made this code created a difficult to encrypt language. I have some of the numbers though already, it’s just the rest. I’ve never seen such an elaborate one before. . .” You said in thought as you tapped your pen against the paper. “I have to say, it’s impressive.”

Adler hummed idly, taking note of your words.

“Perhaps you need a sort of incentive.”

You moved your eyes up in confusion, wondering what that could mean. Only to stop once you noticed what was in his opposite hand not holding his precious cigarette.

It was a picture—a polaroid specifically. But not just any one. You stared at your oldest friend in the picture, taken on the rooftops in East Berlin, his face tilted down and a level of focus and calm as he stared down below in his crouched position. The lights behind him giving him an ethereal glow, a mix of white, red, and blue as those shades on his face gave a little glint due to it.

You reached a hand to see it better only for Adler to click his tongue, taking the picture back closer to him with a shake of his head.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t exactly be incentive if I gave it to you easily like that. You seem eager though.” Adler arched a brow at you. “Any reason as to why?”

Your cheeks prickle as you cursed in your mind. Why didn’t you get the film from the red room or Park yourself? You thought of a T.V. turning on it’s own, flashbacks to what happened in Vietnam on the screen, the memory sobering you up. You still. . .haven’t told Adler about that. He’ll call you soft and put you solely in the safehouse with no more field missions. You hate his disappointment. Still though, you recall you were determined to get it. A quick in and out but than. . . something? Something. . . happened?

At your brows furrowing deeply, Adler’s own brows furrowed and you answered his silent question as you touched your head.

“Sorry. . . That coma I woke up from still has done a number on me.”

“You did get shot twice, Bell. You have issues with always trying to push me out the way, even back in ‘Nam.” You smiled at his tease. You did have a protective streak. But only for certain people—even if you knew Adler could handle himself, you would do what you must for him if he told you an order. Or even go against it if it involved him doing something stupid like a sacrificial mission. You’d follow him anywhere. “Don’t think too much on it. I’m sure the rest of your memories will come back soon enough. Just remember in the end that mission was a success.”

“Whatever it takes, sir.” You said, a phrase that he spoke often back in the war. Which you would repeat. You would always do what you must.

Adler’s expression shadowed as he nodded once.

“Whatever it takes,” he glanced at the polaroid in his hand, it facing him as he seemed to stare in thought before turning his gaze towards you. Your expression curious as you wondered what he was thinking before he turned the picture back towards you, brow up inquisitively. “Well, Bell? Don’t think you’re going to dodge the question as to why you want this? I went through a bit of trouble to let Park let me have it. She’s stubborn when she wants to be.”

You slightly scowled at him, feeling the blush once more.

You hated when he did that blasted rhyme!

You also had a sense there was more to him asking Park but you were too busy trying to defend yourself. Not think about their daily quiet pissing match.

“I like taking pictures. It’s an art form. Every artist would like to have their own paintings,” you said, tone even and you wanted to pat yourself in the back for that.

Adler rose both his brows now.

“Really?” The way he said it made it seem he doubted you. “Not a photographer. Was never really interested in art either so maybe that’s why I can’t relate. Still. It’s a good picture, my good side and all. Can see why you would want it.”

You restrained yourself from saying what you wanted like last time. That basically you would want that picture even if it was on his scarred side.

“It had good lighting.” You added as Adler stared at his picture, cigarette being held in his lips. He turned back towards you, glasses slightly falling from his nose and you could see a hint of his eyes. A tease. You stared. His lips curved around the cigarrette, amused and indulging. You panicked. “I-It does!”

“I didn’t say anything. But say, the sooner you finish that code, the sooner you can have this—“ he paused, waving the hand with the polaroid”—piece of art of yours. Never thought I would say that but I guess there’s a first for everything.” He pocketed the picture back in his jacket, blowing his smoke away from you before he stood up and headed towards Sims only to add over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it. I know you got this.”

You stared as he walked over, the belief he had in you with those words moving around in your brain. You moved back to work, pointedly ignoring Lazar’s whistle—him able to hear some of what occurred no doubt. You threw him an impolite gesture that only made the man laugh as you focused on the code. It took you three tiring and near sleepless nights, but you finished. Adler handing you the photo in between his fingers as you took it gently, trying not to crinkle the photo further as Adler watched you behind his shades as you held the photo, taking a thoughtful inhale of his cigarette before looking away. Looking around their surroundings outside the safehouse. Their break time spot.

“You sure got talent, kid.”

“You should know by now to not doubt me, Russ,” you replied, your eyes still on the photo between your gloved hands. “Only the best of the best with you. Just took me longer than I thought.”

“Watch that confidence doesn’t blind you one day, Bell.”

“You first.”

He chuckled at that, breathless and surprised making you stare up with wide eyes. The sound rare. Adler tapped the end of his cigarette, ash going on the ground as he stared towards the doors of the safehouse, an echo of a smile on his face. Barely there. Others wouldn’t see it, but you’ve known Adler for years.

“You got guts. And spunk. Met my match with you it seems, kid. You know me too well. . .” Adler took a puff, deep as he trailed off, shades dark.

“That’s not a bad thing,” you say, lowering the photo in your hand. “Sims does too. Can’t exactly get rid of us that easy.”

“Sims has been through many missions with me, but not as much as you.” Adler explained calmly. “Some of those, I’m taking to my grave. If I breathe a word about it, I’ll have a bunch of people up my ass.”

You sense as if this was like a conversation from years ago, on a beach. Quiet and away from everyone in the camp, just the two of you talking about realities and soldiers. You think about that memory a lot.

You recall some of the memories he’s referring to.

You half shrugged, pocketing the photo in your bomber jacket as you leaned against the wall of the safehouse.

“What can you do? It was necessary. Besides, I can’t exactly tell anyone else either, Adler. Brutality is sometimes necessary. That’s all I know.” You paused, tilting your head and throwing a teasing smirk his way to get him out this weird mood. “Don’t tell me America’s Monster actually cares what other people say?”

Adler deeply exhaled in exasperation, smoke coming out his nose.

“Don’t tease me, Bell. You know I can’t give a shit.”

“Than what’s the problem? You do what needs to be done. Make the tough calls. You know. . . you know I understand right?” You asked carefully. “I’m with you when it comes to doing what we must. To protect what we need to.”

Adler was silent. He never answered.

You didn’t push him. Didn’t feel the need.

You understood him the best.

Only monsters can see one another, after all.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Monsters, you’ve come to know, are also a certain kind of creature that takes what they need.

To want. Selfish and uncaring and you should be concerned at how easily you take in those traits.

Too busy to worry about regular people—the mundane. There are bigger things to be focused on than other’s opinions on what actions are necessary.

You and Adler can give not one fuck about others. They know what they are and will accept the titles from others with a nod.

What you’re coming to find however, that even with monsters, there’s different breeds.

You basically reiterated to him that what he did with you was necessary. Needed. Sound brutality at its finest. You feel like you can’t even argue.

What is better—loyalty to a country or to people?

You’re trapped.

I have a problem. This story is going to be long when it was supposed to be short. Oh well.

Also, hot take maybe, I love both Soft!Adler and Dark!Adler so let’s just have both sides of him shall we? Wait…is Adler truly soft here? Who knows.

DM me if you wish to be tagged please. ^////^

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years ago

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun

Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran

He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.

Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.

It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--

The barrier of the ghost world was broken.

At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.

Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.

The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.

When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.

There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.

Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.

The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.

Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.

Half fear, half. . . excitement.

His Shizun.

Chu Wanning.

This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.

It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.

Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.

The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.

However, that doesn't seem to be the case.

After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.

Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.

He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.

When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.

Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.

Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.

To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.

That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.

At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.

Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?

Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.

His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.

However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!

So ferocious.

How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?

This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.

It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.

"Causing trouble again?"

Mo Ran sucked in a breath.

Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.

Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Xue Meng: ". . ."

Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?

However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!

Drops of blood splashed everywhere!

The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.

Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.

In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.

It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".

It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.

The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"

If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.

But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name

"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"

". . ."

Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"

Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"

Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"

"Never."

". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."

Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"

Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.

This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"

Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.

Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"

Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.

This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.

Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.

In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.

That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.

"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."

The pain abruptly disappeared.

Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.

"Did you commit debauchery?"

Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"

Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."

No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.

A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!

Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.

"Xue Meng."

Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."

"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."

Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"

Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.

Utterly shameful.

It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.

But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.

Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.

He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

How great and selfless his Shizun was.

Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.

But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.

And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.

Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.

Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .

He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.

He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fuck!

Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!

Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——

"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"

No one made a sound.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."

Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.

Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:

"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."

Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.

Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"

Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.

Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.

What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.

But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!

Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.

Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#the husky and his white cat shizun #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #2ha #2ha translation #2ha novel #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #mo ran #chu wanning #yaoi novel

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fictionfeast · 3 years ago

Text

Sasuke kind of loves where Naruto lives, though he isn’t quite sure why.

He likes the smell of salt by the sea when they open the window, and he likes how Naruto looks outside on the shoreline, wind in his hair and water at his feet. He likes how Naruto looks at home, even when a storm rages, he’s always right where he belongs. He likes the cozy feeling of the Uzumaki household, it’s just a house on a small island, where Naruto knows all the local shop owner’s, wearing them down with barter, but they still always smile at him when he walks through the door.

Sasuke desperately wants to kiss him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Naruto jumps onto his bed, where Sasuke is half-laying against his headboard, schoolwork open on his lap.

Sasuke raises his eyebrows, as if he would reveal that information out loud in actual words. He and Naruto were currently caught in something. It felt inevitable, like they’d been caught in things before.

“If you purposely have terrible perminship to cover up your logs,” Sasuke proposes instead.

Naruto squints at him, clearly not buying it.

“I’m not gonna get caught.” Something a little mischievous appears in those ocean blue eyes. “Sweet of you though, to worry about me.”

His gaze turns a little more searching, and Sasuke always feels a particular way, when Naruto looks like that. Sasuke doesn’t personally think his thoughts are all that different from anyone else’s, but sometimes, it feels like Naruto wants to know every single one, like he’s never had access before, like he has to soak up everything he can, before it’s gone. It makes Sasuke’s chest hurt, and if anyone were to ask, he could never justify why.

Naruto asks again. “What were you really thinking about?”

It’s a nudge. Sasuke doesn’t know why Naruto does that — uses that careful, more gentle tone — except that maybe he worries about overstepping. Maybe he’s worried that Sasuke was thinking about his father’s recent death, and just hadn’t wanted to say so out loud.

“I like where you live,” Sasuke gives.

There’s a small release of tension in Naruto, and Sasuke watches it fall away under that hideously patterned orange shirt. Naruto has an attachment to a specific color scheme that must go back lifetimes for how stubbornly he clings to it. Sasuke has tried to sway him from it to no avail, and it’s easier to think about that, rather than what if he gives the answer Naruto is so scared of. He’s not quite sure what it is, or how to prevent it; he’s not sure he could guess it, even if he tried.

“Guess it can be hard, moving around so much,” Naruto offers, by leeway of giving room for Sasuke to expand.

“I don’t mind it,” Sasuke says and he means it. Though, he hesitates, gaze lifting. “I just... like it a little more here.”

It costs him to say these things, sometimes, like a lump caught in his throat, but it’s always worth it when he can manage.

Naruto’s smile is immediate, small and knowing. “Are you trying to say something, Uchiha?”

Sasuke can’t run from that challenge. Naruto is already moving in any case, there’s no time to even consider running, as he shifts over Sasuke to lean down, as Sasuke’s arms curl up and around—

Sasuke freezes. “Naruto,” he says.

Kushina looms over them, tapping a frying pan against her hand like a baseball bat. Naruto pauses at Sasuke’s pause, catching on and following where Sasuke’s eyes are looking, and turns to—

Scramble for his life.

He makes it to the edge of the bed, before Kushina has pulled off his jacket, which Naruto quickly twists and sheds, but unfortunately, not everyone is blessed with grace, as Kushina yanks on the sleeve just in time to offset his balance, sending him to the floor with a yelp. Flat on his back, Naruto holds his hands up in surrender, and laughs the most sheepish, red-handed laugh that Sasuke has ever heard. It threatens a small smile at his lips, but Sasuke isn’t idiotic enough to piss off Naruto’s mother.

“Naruto!” Kushina raises her voice, standing over him. “What did I say about leaving the door open when Sasuke is over!”

“It’s not like that, Ma, really—”

“It’s a little like that,” Sasuke corrects, because what? He values honesty. His job is to make Naruto’s parents like him, not to take the heat.

Naruto throws him a look of betrayal, and his eyes narrow even further when they notice the tiny quirk in Sasuke’s mouth. Sasuke refuses to take the bait, raising his eyebrows with false innocence. Naruto needs to get in trouble once in a while. Otherwise, he’ll get caught for the things he should actually get in trouble for.

“Door open,” Kushina growls. “I won’t allow my son to be a delinquent, yanno!”

Naruto nods with such enthusiastic agreement, a bobblehead would be jealous. Satisfied, she turns to Sasuke and smiles. “Nice to see you again, Sasuke. Say hi to your mom for me when you go home before your curfew. No more sneaking through my obedient’s son’s window, okay?”

Saskue nods, politely. He likes Naruto’s mother. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and all that.

Though, he does appreciate her for what she did for his mom. Since Kushina suggested she come back to her hometown after the funeral, his mom has been doing better. It’s been strange, to see his mom function in a completely different element, where the shopkeepers talk about her and Kushina getting in trouble together as little girls. Before coming to the island, he didn’t even know his mother had friends.

It’s been... nice.

Kushina takes her frying pan and her leave. Naruto groans, sitting back up.

“I hadn’t even kissed you yet,” he complains. “She has some freakish sixth sense.”

“Well, you are a delinquent.” Sasuke plays devil’s advocate. “And I did crawl through your window.”

It’s difficult to find alone time on a small island, especially on a small island where the guy you keep trying to make out with knows everyone, and while his own mom is a little more... laid back than Naruto’s, at least in terms of open doors, Sasuke doesn’t want to cause her any trouble right now. He thinks Naruto inherently understands this, because he never suggests his house.

“Who’s side are you on?” Naruto huffs. “And I dunno what you think you’ve pieced together, but I’m not a delinquent.”

It’s almost a mutter, and Sauke gets the impression that he’s not a delinquent, but he is something. Sasuke watches Naruto stand back up, eyeing the door where his mom left, like he’s seriously considering bolting it shut, while Sasuke contemplates on revealing what he has pieced together. It just seems pointless when he’s relatively certain Naruto won’t tell him the rest, if not to protect whatever he’s involved in, then to protect Sasuke’s deniability if he ever does get caught.

“Smuggling—” That’s all Sasuke gets out before Naruto is tackling him and clamping a hand over his mouth.

The clock ticks as Naruto watches the door like prey waiting in the brush, holding its final breaths. When there’s no sign of either of his parents, he turns back to Sasuke with a firm look of warning, before removing his hand.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Is that it?” Naruto asks. “A stroke, an aneurysm?”

“I was aiming for brain aneurysm, actually, until I remembered you need a brain for that,” Sasuke points out with a smug smirk that he knows will drive Naruto up the wall.

He enjoys watching Naruto’s hackles rise.

“Just because you—Ugh,” Naruto eloquently voices, like he might start pulling on his hair. Sasuke quirks an eyebrow in encouragement, that may or may not be a trap. He wants to know the truth. If he’s reached the correct conclusion about Naruto’s spare time activity. “It’s not something you want to be involved in, okay? Why can’t you just drop it already?”

There’s a desperate note in Naruto’s voice, an askance for Sasuke to stop. Out of worry. Out of concern. But that’s why he can’t drop it. Why the hell does Naruto always sound like that?

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” Sasuke finds himself asking, and the backlash is immediate. Not from Naruto. Naruto just blinks at him, looking vaguely startled at Sasuke’s flinch, and then just confused. The internal backlash strikes with enough ferocity for everyone involved. He’s showing too many cards. He knows he is, and he can see the rigidity of his father’s face, too soft, those eyes said, too emotional, and Itachi’s quiet agreeance, it’s better this way.

Sasuke pushes at Naruto’s chest, telling him to get off without words. “Curfew is in a few—”

“No, Sasuke.” Naruto grabs his wrist, halting movement. Sasuke refuses to look at him, too open, too exposed. “No.”

Words can’t find their way out of his mouth, so he stays silent. The salt in the air suddenly feels far too thick.

“It’s not like that,” Naruto reassures, quickly. He lets go of Sasuke’s wrist, leaning back onto his own thighs to give them room. Sasuke studies a spot on the wall, until Naruto’s apparent distress draws his eyes back over, watching him push a hand through blond hair. Those frustrated blue eyes have taken partial to the wall too. “It’s... complicated.”

Sasuke observes the frown in his mouth. He’s already shown his cards. It’s too late to take it back.

Maybe it’s an argument worth committing to. It’s a foreign concept to Sasuke outside of his family. He hasn’t had many friends in his life, and even those he would consider friends, he’s never found much of a point in fighting. If they want to be stupid, then they can be stupid. Sasuke is hardly domestic enough to start little arguments. He can remove himself if he doesn’t want to be involved. Until now, apparently.

He cares if Naruto is stupid.

“Complicated sounds dangerous,” Sasuke tests. “You’re not denying it’s dangerous.”

Naruto’s mouth thins. His eyes refuse to come back to Sasuke, and Sasuke knows what it means. Naruto isn’t willing to argue.

He’s not willing to talk about it.

Sasuke waits, carefully, for what feels like several stabbing heartbeats. Naruto probably regrets it — the first time he took Sasuke out on his boat, gifted to him on his sixteenth birthday, two years ago. Traveling by boat was the only way to get to the mainland, and Kushina made Naruto his official guide when he and his mom first arrived, to both of their horrors.

He and Naruto incidentally met the day before at school, eleven kids to a grade. It would be hard to miss each other.

Naruto took him out anyway, and they grumbled and bickered for a majority of it, and they’d ended the night with Choji’s famous Kraken Skewers. Sasuke isn’t the biggest fan of squid, but he ate it anyway, after being convinced by Naruto that it was a crime against humanity not to try it.

On their way back, growing comfortable around Naruto at an unusual rate, he started poking around and noticed the logs. His memory has always been pristine, and he knew there were more crates underneath the deck than what it said on his logs. Naruto played it off, I crate over extra goods sometimes, Naruto admitted, caught and rubbing the back of his neck, there’s this girl...

Sasuke completely bought it, he didn’t even question it, in fact he immediately told Naruto he didn’t need to hear it. He’d been around enough guys his own age to know they were annoyingly obsessed with girls and Sasuke had no shared interest.

In hindsight, there’s a good chance Naruto had a hunch and wielded it as a weapon of redirection.

Given, the illusion was shattered when Naruto kissed him.

He probably wasn’t sneaking extra goods to a mainland girl, but it was a decent cover. Especially when the maritime patrol were mostly older men, who liked to reminisce in their testosterone riddled days as a teenager, or whatever the fuck. Sasuke wonders how many times that story worked, and how many different ones Naruto has told.

Sasuke began to notice more, how easily Naruto crawled in and out of his bedroom window, like he’d done it a thousand times, the bags under his eyes, the way he could anchor his boat in the dark, not a single light needed. Sasuke can tell apart Naruto’s real smiles and ones that meant something different, like he was sad, or just a little too tired of something heavier than this island could hold.

But Naruto thinks he can hold it. And he thinks he can do it alone.

Sasuke collects his study books and shoves them into his bag, sliding out from underneath Naruto and off the bed. Naruto still won’t look at him, hands resting on his knees, and mouth pinched.

“You know I’ll figure it out,” Sasuke says. It’s not a threat. It’s just the truth.

He pauses in Naruto’s doorway before leaving. He hesitates. He can’t help that he notices these things. One day, the pieces will fall into place, and it will all click together, whether he or Naruto wants it to or not.

“You should decide how you want that to happen.”

He doesn’t notice Naruto frown at the door when he walks out.

#SNStober2021 #Domestic #Domestic Supernatural Island AU?#Where Naruto smuggles demons and spirits over seas back into their realm #It's dangerous tho!#Doesn't want Sasuke to get hurt #SNS #SasuNaru #NaruSasu #Excited to participate in SNStober #!

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patchofsunlight · 4 years ago

Text

Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.

It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.

He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.

Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.

Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.

But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.

But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.

“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”

The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”

Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”

The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”

“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”

Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”

“Please, I—”

“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.”

“Y/N—”

“Leave, Zuko.”

With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.

-----

“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”

“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”

“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”

Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted.

They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.

“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”

“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”

“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”

“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”

He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.

Maybe he had a crush on her, too.

-----

Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.

“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we’d never have made it past the courtyard.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”

“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.

“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”

“Think about our place in the universe?”

Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.

She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.

They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power.

The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too.

-----

“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”

“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”

“Y/N!”

The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”

“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”

They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”

She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”

“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”

“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”

She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”

“Yeah.”

The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”

Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.

They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.

They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.

“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”

He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.

He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.

But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.

“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”

He turned his head to look at her, “really?”

She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”

“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”

Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.

Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”

“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.

“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.

In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.

It was nice to dodge the nightmares.

-----

“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”

“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”

“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”

“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”

“I am always full of surprises.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”

“But you do like him, right?.”

“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”

Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”

“So you admit you like him!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”

“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”

“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”

“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?”

Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.

“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”

He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”

She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.

“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.

“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”

“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.

“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”

“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”

“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”

He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.

Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”

She only smirked in response.

-----

The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.

“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”

He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”

Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”

He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”

They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My love, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.

“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”

“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”

“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”

Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.

“Zuko, wait!�� she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”

“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”

“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”

“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”

He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.

She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth.

She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.

Spirits, she really loved him.

“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”

is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao

taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece

thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

#zuko x reader #zuko x fem!reader #zuko x f!reader #sokka x reader #atla x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender x reader #zuko #sokka #avatar #avatar!reader #avatar reader #ember island #the ember island players #requested

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e-milieeee · 4 years ago

Text

the enemy of my enemy (must be my ally)

Summary: When one of his akumas attacks Adrien and one of his classmates, Gabriel Agreste discovers that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would prove a very useful ally against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

How had he not discovered sooner? But oh well—better late than never. Ladybug will never know what’s coming.

Notes: from this post because everyone wanted me to write it. i warned y’all. feat. gabriel’s 2 functional brain cells.

AO3 | Kofi

Gabriel Agreste isn’t past admitting his mistakes.

Most of them have involved Adrien, so he supposes that it’s time to pay attention to the trend. And all of those mistakes have involved his growing career as Hawkmoth—and, more specifically, the choices he makes for whom he akumatizes.

Lila Rossi, now known as Princess Perfect—seriously, what the hell was wrong with this girl? He’d given her the liberty of choosing her akuma name, but such a godawful name is a bad reflection on him as well—kicks down the door of the classroom.

He sees it all through Lila’s eyes, like he does with all the akumas. Doesn’t mean he’s particularly happy about the turnout of this particular akumatization.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demands to her. “I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous! You’re going the wrong way.”

Relax. Lila’s voice drifts into his head. I need to take a little detour.

“What detour—” Oh. Oh, shit.

In the classroom, packing their bags, is his son and that Chinese girl with pigtails—Marinette. The one that Gabriel knows Lila Rossi intensely hates. The one that he doesn’t like either, because for some reason, his son is infatuated with her. It’s Marinette-this, Marinette-that these days, and Adrien just won’t stop gushing about her. Father, look at these designs! They’re Marinette’s. Father, look who’s on the news—it’s Marinette! Father, can you hire Marinette to work at Gabriel Brand?

Marinette, a real headache. Gabriel rubs his temples. Maybe it’s a good thing that Lila’s after her. Better to nip it in the bud before Adrien’s attachment becomes a real problem.

“Fine,” he grounds out to Lila. “But leave Ad—leave the blonde boy alone.”

Already ahead of you, Hawkie.

“Don’t call me that!”

She ignores him in favour of turning to the two victims. Adrien is standing in front of Marinette, arms spread in a protective stance, glaring at the akuma. For a couple moments, nobody speaks.

Then, Marinette, eyebrows furrowing, says, “You’re Lila, aren’t you. Seriously? What is this—your third akumatization? Fourth?”

“My name is Princess Perfect now,” Lila growls back. “Get out of my way, Adrien.”

Marinette literally gags. “Did Hawkmoth choose that name for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Gabriel seethes. Unfortunately, none of them can hear him.

“Yes, he did,” Lila lies breezily. “But that’s not important. You think you’re such a hot shot, Marinette? You think you can take the spotlight from me without repercussions? I’m going to make sure everyone hates you and loves me, and you’ll learn your lesson for trying to cross me. After all, who can say no to Princess Perfect?”

Gabriel sighs through his nose. Are all teens this dramatic?

Apparently, they are. Betrayal comes from those closest to home, because it’s Adrien that holds up his arms even higher, still staring Lila down. “You’re going to have to go through me if you want to hurt her,” he promises. “Marinette, get out of here! Run!”

Oh, for heaven’s sake—

Two things happen at once. Lila darts towards them, her whip lashing out directly at Adrien. Gabriel swears under his breath—why isn’t Adrien moving out of the way? Why is he so intent on protecting that useless girl? “Lila!” he barks through the bond, but the akumatized girl is too far gone. “Touch him and I’ll make sure—”

Gabriel trails into dumbfounded silence when Marinette shoves Adrien aside, grabs the end of Lila’s whip, and tugs the weapon straight out of the girl’s hands.

“You’ve gone too far,” she growls in a tone so chilly that it even reaches him. “Adrien, get out of here! I can handle her.”

Lila’s own shock lasts for a couple of times before she regains some of her composure. “You?” she sneers. “Handle me? Why, you pathetic—”

Adrien chucks a pencil case at Lila. It hits her cheek, and she whirls on him, enraged. At the same time, Marinette darts away from the window and slides behind the large wooden desk at the front. Gabriel, still watching the scene unfold, scoffs. So for all her big talk, she’s still nothing but a coward.

“Stand down,” he commands Lila once more. “Don’t you dare touch Adrien—what the hell?”

Lila seems to have noticed the source of his bewilderment as well, but it’s far too late. From underneath the desk, Marinette has lifted the thing—the giant, wooden desk—onto her shoulders.

Gabriel’s positive he stops breathing.

“Wait—” Lila begins. He sees it all through her eyes: Marinette braces herself for a moment and then throws it—throws the desk that a grown man shouldn’t be able to lift—right at Lila.

She doesn’t stand a chance. Lila goes down in a crash, pinned under the weight of Ms. Bustier’s desk that this small, petite girl had somehow bench-pressed and then chucked.

As much as Lila struggles, she is unable to remove the desk from on top of her. Given that his akumas have enhanced strength and she’s still incapable of lifting it, just how strong is Marinette?

Said girl in question stalks over to Lila. She plants a foot firmly against the overturned side of the desk and looks down at the girl trapped underneath.

Gabriel is certain that somehow, impossible as it sounds, Marinette is staring right through Lila’s eyes, through their connection, and into his own. His body freezes. His jaw locks. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Gabriel Agreste is absolutely terrified.

“Next time you try something like this,” Marinette growls, leaning in, “I won’t let you off so easily.”

With that ominous note, she snatches the necklace off Lila’s neck and marches right out of the classroom.

Gabriel remains frozen for a couple more moments. He isn’t certain if he still remembers how to breathe.

It wasn’t Ladybug nor Chat Noir that had foiled this plan. No, it was Adrien Agreste’s classmate, a girl who had previously annoyed him, that had single handedly defeated an akuma and scared him absolutely shitless.

What. The. Fuck.

***

“Adrien,” Gabriel says over dinner. “You know that girl you always talk about? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

His son looks up from his meal with a bright look on his face. Once upon a time, Gabriel would’ve been annoyed. Now, after reevaluating the girl, he comes to the conclusion that it’s best Adrien stays on Marinette’s good side. She’s probably more than capable of beating his son up.

“Yeah, Marinette?” Adrien echoes. “You know how there was an akuma attack today? Well, Marinette was actually there in the classroom with me when the akuma came for us.”

Gabriel is forced to play ignorant. “Oh? What happened?”

“Well, the akuma tried to attack us, and Marinette picked up a desk—you might find it hard to believe, and honestly I would’ve too if I hadn’t seen her do it—and threw it at the akuma. When Ladybug and Chat Noir finally showed up, there wasn’t even anything for them to do.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat. “That is… rather unbelievable."

Except he swears he can still feel the heat of Marinette’s glare, and is forced to accept that this is the reality he’s living in.

“Why did you ask about her, though, father?”

He snaps back into the present. “Huh?”

“Marinette—why did you ask about her? Wait, father, are you reconsidering hiring her? Did you finally look at the designs I sent you? This is amazing. I’m sure she’ll do amazing. Your stocks will rise. You’ll get more customers. Marinette’s basically a walking lucky charm—this will be the best decision you’ve ever made, father. I promise.”

He frowns at Adrien. “Don’t make preposterous suggestions. But yes— I am considering giving Marinette Dupain-Cheng a job at the company, perhaps an internship one of the senior designers. She’s very… talented.”

He thinks of the way she’d lifted the desk and flung it at Lila. Talented, indeed.

Perhaps talented enough to finally give him an edge against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

***

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than eager to come in for a so-called interview. Nathalie has done her digging on the girl: she’s made it pretty big quite a couple times already, in the fashion industry and has quite a few connections. Even if Gabriel’s motivations aren’t technically for the company, he has to admit that she has much future potential to tap into in the future. But for now, that’s not his goal.

She’s impeccably dressed when Nathalie leads her inside his study. Her eyes are positively shining when she beams at Gabriel. “Mr. Agreste!” Marinette chirps. “I’m so happy to be here. When Adrien told me you wanted to interview me for the job…this is such an amazing opportunity to be presented with, and I am so honoured.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with Nathalie. She nods subtly.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” He rises from his desk and holds out his hand for her to shake. She does so.

It takes all of Gabriel’s self-control not to show the pain on his face when she grips his hand.

How the fuck is this girl so strong?

Thankfully, Marinette doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong. Gabriel draws back his hand and tucks it behind his back. It’s throbbing.

“So, Marinette.” He sits back down at his desk. Marinette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. If she were any normal person, Gabriel might’ve snapped at her to settle down, but after that show with Lila yesterday, he decides that it’s for his own good not to get on her bad side. He’ll just have to channel all his patience—for self-preservation, really. “I understand that you’re interested in interning at my company?”

She nods excitedly. “I’ve been designing for years, Mr. Agreste—I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on—”

“What I have in mind for you—” Gabriel pauses, realizing that he’d interrupted her. Hurriedly, he gulps. “Never mind. Continue.”

“I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on but I’m a very quick learner! I promise I’ll do my very best to help you and your company.”

He nods. “That’s good to hear. For now, I’ll… I’ll arrange with Nathalie what we can assign you to do in the company. And I have another favour to ask of you, if it’s not too much.”

Marinette smiles. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help you!”

Nathalie had warned him to be careful with Marinette—one wrong move and he could be ousted as Hawkmoth. He takes a deep breath. “I have become aware that there are some bad influences around my son in school. You are friends with Adrien, yes?”

“Yes, and… bad influences?” Marinette frowns, shifting her weight. “Oh, yeah, there’s one in particular. Actually, I’m not sure if you’re aware, Mr. Agreste, but I’m glad you brought it up. You know that akuma yesterday? That girl’s name was Lila Rossi. She’s been hanging around Adrien quite a bit these days, and ‘bad influence’ barely covers what she does. And—oh! When I confronted her once about making Adrien uncomfortable, she told me she had a ‘friend in a high place’ that was backing her up. I think you might want to look into that too, Mr. Agreste. It was pretty worrisome, to be honest.”

Gabriel’s mouth has gone dry. “I… yes. Yes, I shall look into that too.”

Marinette rolls her shoulders. “God, if I knew who they were, I’d throw them into the Seine. How dare they.” Then her eyes widen. “Sorry, Mr. Agreste! I was just… um, I was just talking to myself. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Gabriel reassures immediately, although it doesn’t do much to ease the chill that is travelling up his spine. “Then it’s decided? Nathalie will give you her contact information—you can send her your resume just for formalities, and she will organize the rest. And… be sure to keep an eye on my son at school.”

“I will!” Marinette chirps, ever so chipper. Behind that attitude lies the strength to lift the desk he’s currently sitting and crush him. And much, much more.

Nathalie guides the girl away. Gabriel is unable to breathe fully until she leaves.

He has to calculate this well, because he can’t afford to lose a potential ally like Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He’s already thinking—perhaps she would do well with the Peacock Miraculous, or the Bee Miraculous, if he can get his hands on it again. If—if he can somehow convince Marinette to help him with his cause, all of his other plans don’t even need to go into action. Ladybug and Chat Noir will never see this coming.

Nathalie returns. “Sir, your face is rather pale,” she notes. “But may I ask what that was about? You were… unusually lenient today.”

Gabriel clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “Never mind me,” he dismisses. “But first, I need to contact Lila Rossi as soon as possible to cut off all ties. Let her know she’s fired.”

“Is this because…?”

He allows himself a small smile. “You’ll see soon, Nathalie,” he reassures. “We’ve finally got the upperhand in this fight.”

Notes: i lost brain cells writing it, and i’m sure y’all have lost brain cells reading it.

Fics masterlist here!

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #bamf marinette #gabriel is TERRIFIED of marinette #as he should be #crack #humour #yall asked for this its not my fault #ml #mlb fic #my writing #that being said if you tag this gabrinette i will hunt you down

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sesamestreep · 3 years ago

Note

Merrick/Raphael, "cricket"

okay, in case anyone wants context, this is set in that AU I keep meaning to write where instead of Merrick going to Peru with Clem, he becomes a parson or whatever, like his brother wanted, and Clem returns from Peru with Raphael in tow. The how and why are not important (mostly because I don't know them myself, hence why I haven't written it yet) so this is just an excuse for me to write a tender victorian romance novel, basically...

After church services were over, Raphael had somehow gotten invited by the village children to play something called "cricket" with them. He doesn't know the first thing about the game, but, as Merrick is still at the front of the church, talking seriously with a group of his parishioners and as Raphael is more or less stuck here until he's finished, he agrees. It immediately becomes apparent to him that the Sunday game of cricket is a weekly and sacred tradition amongst the children and, thus, he must do his best to take it just as seriously.

He gets so absorbed in the task of learning the rules and keeping up with the kids that he has no idea how much time has passed when Mr. Cole interrupts them by calling for his four children to accompany him home. The Cole children must be the informal leaders of the group because, once they are gone, the whole match seems to lose its structural integrity and more or less devolves into a wrestling match between whoever is left. Raphael decides it's probably not his place to worry about whether other people's children come home with muddy clothes or bruised elbows, and turns back towards the church, realizing just a little too late that he's being watched.

"How long have you been there?" He asks.

Merrick lifts his shoulders in a shrug at the exact same moment that Gulliver, sitting prettily at his feet, tips her head to the side as if in question. It'd be a cute trick if he thought for a second it was intentional, but as well behaved as Merrick's dog is, she's not one to show off like that. Merrick's free hand—the one not occupied by his cane—rests on top of her head, his fingers scratching idly behind her ears.

"It was sweet," Merrick says, which is not an answer to his question, Raphael would like to point out. "Don't act all tough now just because I caught you doing something nice."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Raphael replies, even though he certainly does.

Merrick laughs, then, at the same moment the afternoon sun emerges from behind the clouds, bathing him in a warm, amber glow. Raphael watches as he brings a hand up to shield his eyes from the light and thinks about how it had never occurred to him until he came to England that different places in the world had different light. He thought, logically, that if the sun and moon were the same everywhere, then the light must be too, but the sunlight in England was nothing like the sunlight in Peru. He knows, because he's seen the afternoon light spark as it hit Harry Tremayne's golden hair and Merrick has the exact same kind—the very same shade, even—and yet it looks completely different.

When they'd first met, Raphael thought they could have been twins, Merrick and his grandfather, if not for the decades between them, but with every passing moment, he feels less certain. He's not sure it's an objective fact, so much as the way someone's personality starts to shape the way you see them, the edges of your first impression softening under the influence of familiarity. Harry was bright like sunshine. Merrick is like a candle in a paper lantern; his is a more diffuse glow, though no less lovely.

It's not really the sort of thing he should be rhapsodizing about.

"Were the lambs of my flock patient with you, at least?" Merrick asks, eyes sparkling with humor. "Cricket has a lot of complicated rules."

"Yes, they were very good about it," Raphael says. "Though I'm not convinced they gave me the real names for anything."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know the game very well, but there's no way there's something called a 'cow corner' in it."

Merrick laughs, a little too loudly if Gulliver's sharp bark in response is any indication. Raphael must have startled it out of him, which makes him feel oddly pleased.

"Unfortunately," Merrick says, once he's composed himself again, "a cow corner is a very real thing."

Raphael shakes his head. "You English are a dreadfully strange people."

"I would have thought several months spent with Clem and Minna would have prepared you," Merrick says, and it’s Raphael’s turn to laugh.

#is it obvious from this short piece of writing that I know nothing of the Anglican church?#because i feel like it's obvious #zainab you are welcome for making it cricket the sport and not cricket the insect #i am a very good friend #here's my one small thing:#i don't want merrick to end up as a parson really because he very clearly doesn't want it #but i also think he'd be great at it #like the part that's just kissing babies and building community #the part that's caring about the bible and whatever would be... less good #but everyone would probably love him because his sermons are so short #anyway #so that's why i cam up with this AU #not because i think he should have ended up as a parson truly #just because it offers an interesting narrative possibility #you know?#these are my Thoughts (TM)#three sentence fic #my writing #the bedlam stacks #merrick tremayne #raphael.... no last name....#otp: santo patrono #firstelevens #ask #ME @ ME: STOP DITHERING AND POST THE DAMN THING!!!

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peachy-rambles · 3 years ago

Text

More King!Techno + Queen!Phil:

One of the kingdoms bordering the Antarctic Empire begins to grow in strength and power, challenging other countries and eventually conquering them. Techno and Phil watch the kingdom closely, wary of a potential threat to their Empire. They are right to be watchful of course because it isn't long before the kingdom begins to encroach on the Empire's territory, slowly taking over cities along their shared border.

As King, it's Techno's duty to deal with the threat and he begins to prepare his army for battle. By now, Phil's wing has healed, meaning he could join Techno in battle and fight by his side once again. But for some reason...he doesn't.

"Someone needs to stay and guard the palace, keep things in order while you're gone," is Phil's reasoning and he seems sure of his decision, which Techno respects and approves of.

On the day that the Empire's army is set to leave, the King and Queen have a heartfelt goodbye, clinging to each other and sharing a deep kiss.

They both know that the other kingdom will most likely be dealt with quickly, perhaps a month at least, but both of them still can't help but feel a little worry and anxiety at being separated.

Phil in particular, is especially emotional, crying as he hugs Techno and making him promise to make the other kingdom regret ever challenging them, to come back home to him as soon as possible.

Techno promises and gives Phil one last kiss before he leaves, leading the army away.

Several months pass.

What was supposed to be a simple border skirmish quickly became much more, the kingdom having much bigger numbers than they originally thought, and Techno is gone far longer than any of them planned. He fights long and hard, refusing to back down, until eventually Techno forces his way into the kingdom's capital, breaks into the castle and finds the cowering king hiding behind what little is left of his army. He gives the other ruler the chance to surrender honorably, but when the king refuses and mistakes Techno for just another warrior (not believing a king would actually risk his life and fight alongside his army), Techno feels no regret killing him.

The Empire is victorious and defeats the kingdom that day. There are calls for celebration and feasts, but all Techno wants to do is return home to Phil and see his Queen once again.

When Techno does eventually return home, bloody and bruised, utterly exhausted but still in one piece...Phil is not there to greet him.

Which immediately sends him into a panic, despite some of his advisors trying to reassure him that Phil is fine, he's just resting and probably tired because it's been a very stressful few days for him, he lost a lot of blood-

Upon hearing that, Techno does not wait for an explanation and rushes to find Phil, slamming open the door to their chambers, to find his husband there.

"Techno-" Phil starts to say before he's enveloped into a crushing hug, Techno bending down to kiss him for the first time in months. Phil can only return the hold and wrap his arms around Techno, kissing him back just as eagerly.

"I'm sorry I took so long, but I'm here now," Techno apologizes once they've seperated.

"It's alright, that's all that matters," Phil reassures him, pressing a soft kiss to his husband's forehead.

Now that he has Phil safely in his arms, Techno can think a little more clearly and that's when he notices that Phil really does look exhausted, but he also seems...happy, a certain glow around him that Techno can't quiet place.

"Phil, what happened while I was gone? The advisors, they said that you lost a lot of blood, but I don't-" Techno begins to asks when Phil smiles and places a finger against Techno's lips to silence him.

"Come here, there's someone I want you to meet," he simply says and takes Techno's hand into his own, leading him to their bed, where a bassinet lays innocently beside it.

A bassinet.

Wait.

Hold on.

Techno's brain is still trying to process the information being presented to him when Phil reaches into the bassinet and picks up the baby (baby!) sleeping inside, cradling them gently in his arms.

"Your son," Phil says, presenting the baby to Techno with a soft smile.

"My son?" Techno asks, his voice cracking slightly, staring in shock at the small creature (his son, his son??) still in Phil's arms.

"Well, our son, but yes. Definitely yours," Phil says with a small chuckle.

"What...how? I don't understand..." Techno trails off, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands.

"Well, when two people love each other very much-" Phil starts to say in a teasing tone.

"Phil! Seriously!"

"Sorry, sorry," Phil apologizes and comes to sit down next to Techno on the bed. He leans into Techno's side and looks down at their son (their son), still sleeping soundly in Phil's arms. "I found out I was pregnant shortly after you left, but I decided not to send a messenger bird to tell you, in case the other kingdom intercepted it. I figured I could tell you in person when you returned home, since you'd only be gone a month, but then..."

"But one month became several," Techno finished. He's quiet for a moment before he hesitates and asks, "Can I...hold him?"

" 'Course," Phil smiles and he passes their son to Techno, making sure to hold him correctly. It's now that their son finally stirs awake, staring up at Techno with big brown eyes.

"You know, he was supposed to be born in another few weeks, but I guess he was just eager to finally meet his father," Phil says quietly, watching his husband and son.

"What's his name?" Techno asks, not tearing his gaze away from his son, who looks so tiny laying there in Techno's arms. So small and fragile, but trusting, no fear in his eyes as he reaches up with a tiny hand to try to grab some of Techno's long hair.

"Officially...he doesn't have one yet. I wanted to wait until you came back so we could name him together..." Phil's voice trails off and he glances off to the side.

"But...?" Techno prompts, sensing his husband's hesitation.

"But I've been calling him Wilbur."

"Wilbur. Hm. It's...nice. Not something I would've chosen, but it'll do I suppose," Techno says with a shrug, causing Phil to chuckle beside him, knowing his husband is teasing him.

"You can choose the name of our next one," Phil promises.

"Hopefully," Techno agrees before his eyes widen when he suddenly realizes what Phil said, "...Next one?"

#techza #technophil #implied mpreg #mpreg #it isn't straight up shown but you know #trans phil #implied anyway #this idea came to me and would not leave my head #King & Queen AU #peachy wrote a thing

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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

Text

The difference between Taichi and Daisuke

Because Taichi and Daisuke both fit a rough model of “the brash shounen protagonist”, and because Daisuke, as Taichi’s junior, is intended to invoke him in certain ways, it’s easy to pin Daisuke as just being a slightly derivative version of Taichi in a different context. In actuality, as much as there are similarities between the two, there are other ways in which they’re actually polar opposites!

Although 02 is a sequel to Adventure, 02 is a very different kind of story, one that prioritizes being about relationships instead of Adventure’s simple self-actualization. This means that the characters that are at the center of the narrative are very different because the way each of them grow has very much to do with the story each wanted to tell -- and what each wanted to portray in their respective groups.

The most important thing to understand about both Taichi and Daisuke is that their surface demeanors are extremely misleading.

I discussed in my earlier meta about Taichi that, in fact, a lot of Taichi’s behavior comes from the fact he’s too chill about things -- he’s very easygoing and initially doesn’t seem very argumentative. That emphasis is on initially, because, nevertheless, Taichi has a tendency to try and take charge and push the group to do ambitious things, and when confronted about his ideas maybe not being so great, he starts arguing about it. Adventure episode 7 has him say something pretty condescending to Yamato in the course of it, and it’s only the first in what’s going to be a lot of these incidents. If you want to confront Taichi, he will fight you back.

While it leads to a certain degree of conflict (especially with Yamato) in the earlier parts of the series, it also means that, from the very get-go, Taichi is someone who has no problem making decisions on the fly and getting everyone to go forward with him. It’s also especially important in light of the Adventure group having been a bunch of kids from separate circles tossed together thanks to the circumstances; his ability to make quick and firm decisions helps them come together when they otherwise wouldn’t be able to do things cohesively.

On the other hand, Daisuke, despite having an abrasive surface demeanor, is extremely deferential, and, well, kind of spends the early parts of 02 rather lacking in a spine (I say this with affection, I promise). Unlike Taichi, who often sometimes tried to push forward with whatever he wanted to do even if it was a bit on the dangerous side, Daisuke is so deferential to other people that, during these early episodes, he actually gets carried around by other people more than he can be said to pull others forward. It really doesn’t take much for everyone to override his opinions as long as they’re assertive enough.

Certainly, part of it is because Daisuke’s dealing with his seniors -- Daisuke is an extremely deferential person who’s craving validation, and so he looks up to his seniors and is constantly deferring to their judgment. But even the nine-year-old Iori is capable of getting Daisuke to shut down, just because Iori’s a very assertive person, and Daisuke shrinks so easily. Daisuke’s early-series tendency to lash out at others is largely very defensive, mainly because he’s lacking in validation and plays very poorly with how easily he feels threatened or how much he can’t tell whether he’s being made fun of. (Rather like an overly on-edge puppy, basically.)

But in any case, the important part is that as far as important decisions go, for this part of the series, Daisuke is not the one making them.

Still, what Taichi does have as a leader, he’s somewhat lacking in a certain other area: emotional sensitivity. A lot of his friction with others in the early parts of Adventure involves him stepping on someone’s toes (such as accidentally insulting someone with a well-intentioned but insensitive joke, or being callous with Koushirou’s computer), and when he’s confronted about it (usually by Yamato), actually gets defensive and starts fighting back about it, which leads to things like escalated conflicts with Taichi and Yamato violently punching each other out.

Even by the time of Our War Game!, Taichi is indicated to still have somewhat of a problem accepting responsibility for when he’s offended someone else or doing something wrong, and it’s pretty clearly a big reason he and Sora are still in a very bad fight during the events of the movie. Most of the time (at least during Adventure and Our War Game!), by the time Taichi’s realized he’s messed up, he’s already deep in hot water.

In comparison, initially brash as Daisuke can be, when things really come down to it, even the early episodes indicate that not only is he much more non-confrontational, he’s actually significantly more emotionally sensitive. In 02 episode 7 (one that’s still pretty high up in his phase of being rather too shallow when it comes to issues about Hikari), he does what even Our War Game! had indicated Taichi at being really bad at doing: immediately apologizes to Iori on the spot and takes back his statements that went over the line with Takeru. Even this early part of the series still has clear indications he’s more attuned to considering his friends’ feelings without being prompted to do so (in 02 episode 10, he immediately catches on that Miyako’s not feeling well, with nobody else having to point it out).

On top of that, as much as he has an occasional tendency to lash out angrily at people, unlike Taichi, Daisuke almost never resorts to ad hominem (insulting the other person directly); abrasive and argumentative as he may sometimes be, he isn’t the type to call people names or be condescending. This is a really important distinction that’s often overlooked (not only with fictional characters, but also often in real life in general); it’s the difference between “you’re stupid” (ad hominem) and “what you’re doing is stupid”. Daisuke very often does the latter because he’s defensive and quick to criticize, but it’s vanishingly rare he will ever go as far as to try invalidating a person, nor does he ever really look down on anyone; it’s an important key to understanding how he’s actually the type to support and respect others even despite his tendency to get argumentative.

Daisuke having the Digimentals of Courage and Friendship points him towards Taichi and Yamato, and it’s important to not neglect that latter part -- as much as Daisuke’s surface traits and character design beg you to think more of Taichi, Daisuke’s tendency to be more emotionally sensitive and constantly consider the feelings of his friends is much like Yamato’s, especially since Yamato also had a tendency to have a somewhat abrasive exterior but actually be emotionally passionate about those he cared about. As a result, Daisuke never, ever gets in a fight with anyone to remotely the same violent and anger-filled degree Taichi and Yamato would get in back in Adventure, because even when he gets kind of close in 02 episode 11, he ultimately ends up sidetracked by thinking seriously about what his seniors have to say about friendship and trying to figure out what Takeru’s feelings are that it defuses very quickly. In the end, Daisuke’s just too conscientious about other people’s feelings to let it get that far.

The first time Taichi is properly recognized as the Adventure group’s “leader” is in Adventure episode 28, and the word is used directly. Taichi even initially denies it, before everyone brings proof in the form of pointing out that he was the one capable of bringing them all together when they’d split apart, and Taichi later demonstrates his abilities as a leader himself when he properly delegates Koushirou as the one to solve the card puzzle. Everyone states that they trust him as the leader, and defer to his judgment in this situation; for the rest of the series, the group continues to acknowledge him as someone who eventually calls the shots and makes the major decisions over what the group will do next.

No equivalent to this scene exists in 02. In fact, Daisuke is not the leader of the 02 group in the same way Taichi is the leader of the Adventure group, and, to push it further, I would even go as far as saying that the 02 group does not have a leader at all.

Understanding why the 02 group doesn’t have a leader, or, more accurately, doesn’t really need one, has to do with the fact that the 02 group has a very different relationship with each other than the Adventure group does. Taichi was responsible for holding the entire Adventure group together and organizing them because they were liable to fall apart without someone as the lynchpin, but the 02 group started off as a social circle before they were a fighting group, and therefore will stick together as friends even if nobody’s holding them together per se. This leads to 02 episode 19 featuring them deciding to work independently to the point Daisuke gets left behind -- compare the equivalent episode in Adventure and how Taichi is treated, and it’s pretty clear Daisuke doesn’t actually have a very commanding role in the group. (You can think of it as an inverted version of the Adventure group’s relationship with socialization vs. fighting coordination; the Adventure group figured out how to fight together fairly quickly but fell apart as soon as Taichi was gone, whereas the 02 group is predisposed to hang out together as friends but takes much longer to learn to coordinate from a fighting perspective.)

Even after Daisuke starts to become more assertive, however, he still doesn’t always take an active role in terms of coordinating or calling the shots -- the most prominent example being the Giga House incident in 02 episodes 28-29, in which he doesn’t mind deferring to the others as they all strategize. It’s a huge contrast against the Adventure group (which was rather big and in need of someone to organize such disparate people) deferring to Taichi to make the final calls and to lay down the goals for them to follow, whereas Daisuke can make decisions or suggestions, but is much more liable to defer to his friends’ ideas or what they want to do if they happen to have any better suggestions. Daisuke doesn’t have the bird’s-eye tactician abilities Taichi has nor his natural charisma, but he shows all signs of being well aware of this; when the 02 group makes a major decision, it’s always one they make together, and although Daisuke eventually does gain a certain sense of independent will, he still puts extremely high value into what his friends think about the situation before going forward with it. As much as Daisuke was certainly the most influential in getting the group to reach out to Ken, it's ultimately the rest of the group that chooses to find their own way to reach out to him, each on their own terms -- Miyako in 02 episode 25, Hikari in 02 episode 32, Takeru in 02 episode 37, and Iori in 02 episode 38 -- and while Daisuke did originally have a clear intention to reach out to Ken regardless of what the others thought, he still very much did actively bid and hope for the others to get along with him in their own ways (see: 02 episode 30).

(This also has the side effect that, as much as Daisuke’s surface demeanor might suggest that everything would be a reckless disaster with him around, the fact that he takes his friends’ stances on the situation so heavily in regard means that he’s actually less likely to do something catastrophically stupid in a major situation, as long as his friends are sufficiently able to keep him in check.)

In the course of Adventure, the skill that Taichi begins to hone is “becoming a leader” in every sense of it -- organizing others, bringing them together, and learning to be ever so slightly less impulsive by thinking through his decisions a bit more instead of leaning on the first thing that comes to his head. The Adventure group, twice on the verge of falling apart, is ultimately brought back together under his lead, and it’s his charisma that allows all of them to trust him and what he wants to do.

It’s not hard to see why; he has qualities for it that come to him naturally, in that he treats people equally and without prejudice, and is a soccer captain-like tactician who is capable of taking a bird’s eye view of the situation and organizing things around them. As demonstrated in Adventure episodes 16 and 28, he’s good at delegating roles when people need suitable guidance.

Daisuke, on the other hand, has a very different specialty: emotional positivity and support. Once he starts shedding the defensive abrasiveness he’d had a tendency to fall into during the first half of the series, his true capacity for being a very pure-hearted, emotionally sensitive person who puts the well-being of his friends first and foremost before anything else comes through. This means he’s the member of the group who’s the most brimming with “positivity” and “the will to push forward”, especially over the course of the second half of 02 in which things are taking a larger and larger psychological toll on the group. Again, the 02 group doesn’t actually have a true “leader”, and many of those traits Taichi has that Daisuke lacks ultimately have to be substituted by some of the other members in the group, but Daisuke’s main skill is in “leading the charge” with emotional support -- and that’s why he ends up often being the one most proactively pulling them forward (and, on a meta level, is why he’s the main protagonist even if the story is arguably more about Ken).

Of course, Taichi and Daisuke do end up having traces of the others’ strengths -- Taichi ultimately comes around to being more emotionally sensitive and handling others maturely (especially in 02), while Daisuke receiving a proper support group and validation from his friends allows himself to show the assertiveness he’d struggled to show in the first half. But ultimately, their strengths are their own, and tailored very well to the dynamics of the particular groups they’re affiliated with.

Once eight years have passed since 02, we can now see this disparity in personality to the point it’s started having major differences in their future paths. Taichi’s in the middle of an existential crisis, drifting away from a lot of his friends and not sure what to do with his life, whereas not only is Daisuke cheerfully hanging out with his friends like 02 was only yesterday, he’s very clearly aware of what he wants to do with his life (after all, he’s had that very clear goal since he was in elementary school).

In regards to why Daisuke’s not having nearly as many problems with his career path: it’s because Daisuke’s satisfied with the low hanging fruit.

Daisuke has always admired Taichi ever since they were both tiny kids, and it’s easy to see why, given Daisuke’s deficiencies prior to the start of 02 -- being a natural leader, charismatic, and extremely assertive, Taichi very easily presented an ideal image of an idol for Daisuke to aspire to. Kizuna makes it clear that Daisuke is just as senior-adoring and Taichi-adoring as he was back in 02; he has a lot of faith in his seniors to be able to pull amazing and great things off.

Daisuke himself, meanwhile, is happy with only the idea of running a ramen shop, and is practically playing the whole thing by ear without thinking of it too hard. While Taichi hasn’t really said anything about the matter, it’s pretty easy to believe that there is no way in hell Taichi would be satisfied with something like that as a career; he’s always been the ambitious type who wants to do big things, and the fact he’s taking political science and economics at a major university (if it’s anything like the real uni, it’s not easy to get into!) indicates that, even if he doesn’t know exactly what, he certainly would rather do something bigger and more influential with his life.

But the drama CD provides a lot of insight into Daisuke’s current attitude regarding the whole ramen shop thing, and he’s rather grounded about it all, admitting that he doesn’t entirely know what he’s doing and being very quick to admit his own faults. I mentioned earlier that Daisuke is actually good at taking responsibility for his own failings, and it’s likely his lack of ambition stems from the fact that he simply doesn’t consider himself cut out for huge, amazing things to begin with. But that doesn’t matter to him, because he’s happy with simple things, and, more importantly, he’s happy as long as he can continue to support his friends -- and receive support from them in return. Said drama CD includes him relating a long narrative about how, after initially being unsure of what to do, he took all of the little pieces of information and suggestions he got from his friends extremely seriously, even when they didn’t think much of what they were doing or saying at the time -- in short, Daisuke’s life really does involve appreciating and loving his friends.

This is important to consider in light of the fact that the 02 group is cut out for a very different future from their seniors’ -- again, look at the difference between Taichi’s eventual future of “history-making diplomat” and Daisuke’s of “ramen shop owner”. Even when you take into account the whole success story of his shop becoming a chain (which, knowing him, may well have been by accident), as far as world-shattering impact goes, the most influence Daisuke is ever going to have with that career is in regards to food. But this ties into the fact that Daisuke really is that kind of person, someone who’s more community-oriented and sensitive about bringing happiness to the people around him more than he’s capable of aiming for the abstract, whereas Taichi is the kind of person who is much more ambitious and able to enact larger impact over more usually disparate groups of people, even if it means not necessarily having the same type of support group Daisuke has.

And, on a larger scale, it ties into the reason why 02 group is so easily tied at the hip despite their seniors so clearly drifting apart -- it’s baked into the difference between their dynamic and their seniors’ dynamic. The Adventure group is comprised of the kind of people who shoot for individual achievement and self-affirmation over all else, but the 02 group is somewhat dependent on each other for support. As I’ve said before in the relevant meta, this isn’t fundamentally a bad thing -- it ties more into how they choose to live and what they want to prioritize, and as far as the 02 group goes, Daisuke’s priority of mutually supporting his friends ties into the overall group’s priority of valuing their relationships to each other over necessarily shooting for high individual achievement, and finding their own happiness that way.

It’s also interesting to think about why Taichi has his goggles back by the beginning of the movie, meaning that, at some point, Daisuke gave them back to him and started wearing the orange sunglasses we see him with for its duration. Of course, Taichi having the goggles is for meta reasons, since there’s a lot of symbolism associated with Adventure itself and Taichi’s past association with it, as well as its own connection to his past...

But it’s also interesting to consider the fact that even as early as 2003, Daisuke was considering passing the goggles on to someone else. (They’ll eventually end up owned by his own son, but you can imagine the trail of who passed it to whom at what time for yourself.) The same drama CD track implies heavily that Daisuke initially wore his own pair of goggles specifically for the sake of emulating Taichi as “the person who had the power to protect everyone”. Taichi passing his own pair onto him was proof that Daisuke was now worthy of accepting that power and becoming capable of his own courage.

Yet by 2003, Daisuke already considered himself confident enough in said abilities to be willing to pass them onto someone else. You can imagine the circumstances of why he decided to give them back to Taichi for the time being (perhaps he noticed Taichi slipping into an existential crisis?), but the point is that while the goggles still have symbolic meaning, Daisuke’s capable of carving his own path and figuring out what he wants to do without needing to use the exact same thing Taichi did. Instead of chasing after someone else for it, he managed to find his own strengths within himself, and thus, ends up finding happiness in a very different way than Taichi does.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #yagami taichi #motomiya daisuke #taichi yagami #daisuke motomiya #shihameta

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mk-wizard · 4 years ago

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Big Hero 6 The Series: It could have been better

Hello, friends. Today, I will be analyzing a TV series based on a movie that I fell in love with for its colourful themes, deep plot, compelling characters, great CGI and memorable messages. Before I get into it, I want to take a moment to say that I have quit doing videos. They are too big of a pain in the petunia to make and I write better than I speak, so I will stick to writing essays, reviews and more. Anyway, onto the analysis.

All I can say about Big Hero 6 the series is that it had a great concept, it presented some great ideas and tried hard to be a cartoon of the times, but it could have and should have been a lot better. The show’s downfall all centers around trying too hard to be kid friendly which makes the shame sting all the more because Big Hero 6 was already kid friendly even with its dark themes, sharp edges and intelligent writing. If anything, even the brightest kid friendly cartoons (Steven Universe, She-Ra, etc.) had those things and actually benefitted from them. By needlessly trying too hard, character development got scrapped, the edges were all smoothed out, storytelling was subpar, the humour was too silly and the executive meddling in the end produced a dismal final season. However, I don’t want this analysis to be one lengthy negative rant about how awful the series was because in its defense, awful is an unfair word. It did have potential and ideas which are worth carrying over to a reboot that I hope will be done someday in the future. Also, we should root for a reboot because Big Hero 6 would not be the first story that needs it before striking gold. Just look at how many times Spider-Man was rebooted in film before MCU found the version that worked. Anyway, I will list all the things in Big Hero 6 that could have been better in my opinion;

1- Go easy on the laughs and be more generous with the action. - I love adding comedy to my own writing because I think a good sense of humour makes everything better, but Big Hero 6 is not a stand up comedy routine. It is a superhero story where we expect action, suspense and life or death situations that are to be taken seriously first. The comedy should be for relief and with the right timing. Also, the chibi cutscenes and having characters act like fools aren’t funny. Ren and Stimpy are the exception not the standard and their way of making you laugh doesn’t fit an action series. In a show as big as Big Hero 6, real life physics and danger matters.

2- Make the villains menacing and gritty. - I admit that after having a movie villain like Yokai who was the stuff of nightmares, it is going to be a challenging act to follow, but it was obvious that the writers were trying especially with some villains who could have easily gone into some dark relatable territory. For example, Mr. Sparkles (the gentleman in the photo above) embodies social media and Internet personalities. Right off the bat, you have a long list of things which embody the dark side of that like scams, fraud, using social media to dox or harass, driving people to suicide, online predators, the Internet personalities being very depressed people in real life, and much more horrifying things. When you stop and look at it, Mr. Sparkles even looks like the Joker which hints how dark and scary he could have been if the stops were removed. The same goes for enemies like Hardlight who embodies online gaming, Liv with cloning, Obake an amoral and insane scientist, and Trina and Noodle Burger Boy (more on him later) being evil robots. Globby especially should have been painted and written in much darker colours rather being played off for laughs because he has many parallels with Clay Face. The only two villains who I can say were supposed to be campy, charming and comical were Baron Von Steamer and Supersonic Sue because they were a satire of the Adam West style villains.

The rest of them needed to be dark and threatening including Mr. Sparkles. In fact, I would love a rebooted version of Mr. Sparkles who gives me the heebie-jeebies. Going back to Noodle Burger Boy, I must confess that I was actually excited when I heard that he was going to be the main villain of the final season because I thought he was going to fulfill his master’s final wish and as a reminder, Noodle Burger Boy was based on a super robot for military purposes.

It would have been fantastic if Noodle Burger Boy was upgraded into a full military war machine with a new threatening look. For that, I think all of the villains deserve to be rebooted and have their full potential unlocked for better or for worse.

3- A show about geniuses merits genius level art quality. - I am usually forgiving towards art styles, but in the case of Big Hero 6, the oversimplified style with minimal details and lack of textures did not suit the show. The characters blend in with the background which makes them look flat and the special effects were extremely dulled down. I also know for a fact that Disney can do a lot better than this because I saw how superbly Tangled the Series was drawn.

You can see and almost feel the difference in quality, the number of layers and level of detail between the two styles. I think there was no excuse Big Hero 6 was not done in the same style and at the same level if not better as Tangled.

3- Don’t dumb down or flanderize amazing characters. - I absolutely detest it when characters are flanderized because it makes them one dimensional and grating. For example, Go Go is tough as nails and extremely calm, but she is not cold or hesitant towards helping her friends. She doesn’t require very special episodes for us to know that. If anything, the movie version of Go Go reminded me a lot of Garnet in how she deconstructed the broody character. She isn’t cold or emotionless. Just calm and mature. Another good example was how Honey Lemon was rewritten to be overly positive to the point of toxicity, naïve and oblivious with a juvenile obsession with stickers. Then you have poor Fred who was rewritten to be an incompetent fool. The spark that makes Big Hero 6 shine is that they are a team of geniuses meaning they are all intelligent. Even Fred is genius in his own way just not a scientific one. He has a vivid imagination, he is resourceful and can get himself out of tight spots. Please, don’t turn characters into dummies especially if their intelligence is a part of them. It doesn’t make them better or funnier. It ruins them.

4- Tadashi needs closure and honour. - I am all for Hiro making peace with the loss of his brother, but Tadashi is to the Big Hero 6 team what Uncle Ben was to Spider-Man. His loss was the catalyst if not the reason. He should never be forgotten. Moreover, there was never any true closure to him especially with the possibility that he may still be alive up in the air. After all, like Callaghan, his body was never found and it turned out that Callaghan was still alive.

With that said, who is to say that Tadashi was not secretly still alive and just hiding or being hidden? This is something that Disney really needed to clear up if not for the fans, then at least as a service to such an important character. Never just forget about them.

5- The format can only be episodic with a deep plots, continuity and character development. - Random episodes with a mere monster of the day is an outdated format which doesn’t fit Big Hero 6′s modern and bright setting. In seasons 1 and 2, when the episodes were plot heavy with character development, the series shined brightest. It also helped move the story along, but with the final season, plot was removed, closure was abandoned or poorly written if any was given, and characters were disallowed from growing. A good example at how plot and character development could have made this series and its characters better was the relationship between Hiro and Megan. Would it have truly survived or would they have broken up?

Would Richardson Mole have eventually lost interest in his obsession with besting and bullying Fred or would his obsession consume him compelling him to become a super villain? I do see quite a few similarities between Mole and Reverse Flash.

Then you have Karmi who is in my opinion, the biggest wild card of the bunch. She was intentionally introduced as an arrogant, prickly and unlikable yet complex character who rivaled Hiro bitterly.

Yet had a huge crush on his alter ego and as time went on, started to grow up and even form a friendship with Hiro. What would have happened further down the road with her? Would she have become a super hero herself? Or maybe even another love interest for Hiro kind of like how Black Cat is for Spider-Man?

Is Obake really gone?

What does the future hold Diana (Liv’s clone), Liv herself or the Sycorax the genetics company?

Is Alistair Krei going to become an ally to Big Hero 6 or an antagonist? There is also the issue at how little we know about the other Big Hero 6 characters other than Fred, Hiro and Baymax. What are Honey Lemon, Wasabi and Go Go’s backstories? These questions matter and while not every mystery can be solved, leaving none of them solved is lazy writing.

6- Executives, kindly stay out of the writing and any other part of the creative process. - I’m sorry, execs, but there is no nice way to say it. History itself proves that every time executives got involved in the creative process of any media, it got worse not better. Leave the writing to the creative team and the execs should only handle the legal stuff. Please. We understand that TV is a business, but writing itself is not. It is an art which you just don’t have a talent for. Let the creative people do their thing with the freedom necessary and you do your thing, deal? Deal.

7- Focus on Hiro and Baymax. - The are the main characters so keep them at the heart of the series no matter what happens around them. That is all I can say.

And that sums up all the things that could have made Big Hero 6 the series better, but this is all just my opinion. What is yours?

PS: I am well aware that the Big Hero 6 series is being retconned because a new series called Baymax is in the works as well as the long awaited sequel to the first movie. I am looking forward to both with an open mind. PPS: I also am aware that some people liked this show the way it was including the art style and I am cool with that. An analysis for art that includes cartoons is never right or wrong. It is solely based on opinion. I may have thought this series could have been better, but there are people who make arguments that it could have been worse.

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

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DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato [Track 2]

Original title: 夜の湖

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 1 Sakamaki Ayato

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru

Translator’s note: If there’s one thing Rejet knows to do with these CDs, it’s keeping us on the edge of our seats! The final bit of this CD was actual one of the voice samples released prior to its release and I remember being extremely intrigued by it back then! Even while listening to the actual CD, it got me super curious and I couldn’t wait to listen to the next track to find out what is going on with the MC.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 2: The Lake at Night

The two of you are walking through the forest until you eventually reach the lake.

“...Is this the place you’ve been dyin’ to visit? It’s just a regular old lake, no? There’s seriously nothin’ special ‘bout it at all...It was stupid of me to even expect anythin’ from you in the first place.”

You explain.

“Haahー!? The sunrise...? ...Don’t tell me you want to stay here until dawn!?”

You nod.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. Do you even know how much time’s left till sunrise!? ...See you.”

Ayato tries to leave but you quickly stop him, insisting you can chat till the sun rises.

*Rustle*

“What? Don’t give me that nonsense! Why did we need to come all the way over here just to have a chat? We can just talk at home!”

You shake your head.

“Haah? There’s other people around then? ...Oh. In other words, you wanted an excuse to be all alone with me?”

You elaborate on your idea.

“A quiet time, huh...? I thought you liked things to be lively though. Well, I won’t deny those dudes are hella annoyin’. I turn my back for one second and they try to make a move on you. I’ll admit we can never truly feel at ease in that kinda environment.”

He plops down on the grass.

“...There we go. ...Oi, hurry up and lend me your lap already. You don’t expect me to get comfortable without a pillow, right?

You take a seat next to him as he rests his head in your lap.

*Rustle rustle*

“...Hmph.”

You smile and admit enjoying these times together.

“...It’s nice to sit back and relax at times, huh? Damn, you really sounded like a granny just now. I don’t understand. This is just dull, you might as well be dead. ...I mean, you humans have a limited lifespan, right? Then doesn’t this feel like a waste? Isn’t it normal to want to enjoy yourself, maybe have some good food or something? ...Well, I’m a Vampire and immortal so I don’t really care either way.”

You explain.

“Hmph. If you like this, then whatever. You’re so easy to please. (1) But don’t come complaining to me afterwards.”

You chuckle.

“Don’t laugh, geez. ...Actually, you’ve been actin’ kinda off. Like you’re in bad shape...or lackin’ energy. Did you eat somethin’ which had gone bad or somethin’?”

You retaliate.

“I wonder. Hehehe...Well, seems like you still have the energy to talk back at least. ...By the way, you remember the promise we made, right? I told you I’d suck your blood if you failed to entertain me, didn’t I?”

You flinch.

“Look at that pathetic look on your face. Did you think I had forgotten?”

You try and bribe him with the lap pillow.

“Hmph. You’ll stay like this a lil’ longer? All you’re doing is lending me your lap though? You haven’t been tellin’ me any interestin’ stories either. ...Are you perhaps teasin’ me on purpose?”

You quickly shake your head.

“In that case, it makes sense.”

You frantically flail with your arms while trying to explain yourself.

“Hehe...Hehehe...No need to get so desperate trying to deny it. Your funny expression is only becomin’ even more hilarious. I’ll content myself with that for now and leave the real fun for later. Guess you should be grateful to your own face.”

You say thank you.

“...Aah? Why would you thank me for that? Lemme tell you, but I prefer suckin’ your blood after scarin’ the livin’ hell out of you. It’s just not the time for that yet, that’s all. Heh!”

The wind blows in the background.

“...For real though, what are you gonna do ‘bout this depressin’ mood? You should take some responsibility and talk to me. Anythin’ will do at this point. You wanted to enjoy some idle talk, right? Come on.”

You bring up the past.

“What? Our first meeting? You really think I remember all of that? ...Ahー But if I recall correctly...I was nappin’ in the living room while the thunder roared outside...Right! I was woken up because you made a huge fuss.”

You tell him you were truly shocked back then.

“Haha...You mistook me for a dead person, didn’t you? Goin’ on ‘bout callin’ an ambulance or some shit. Bit of an overreaction, don’t you think? Yours Truly doesn’t just die!

Well, I doubt you knew we were Vampires at that point. I was hella thirsty back then, so when an energetic-looking prey walked right up to me, I obviously had to go straight for a bite. Yet, that damn Four-Eyes had the nerve to get in my way!”

You tell him you nearly forgot about that.

“Excuse me? Don’t be forgettin’ ‘bout that when you’re the one who brought up this topic!”

You admit to being surprised Ayato recalls so much.

“I remember plenty of other things as well! You better don’t underestimate my memory! ...Actually, why don’t I help you remember a few more embarrassing moments? No need to be modest. Whatcha so afraid of?”

You flinch.

“Hehe...Are you scared of me?”

You hesitate.

“What? If you’ve got somethin’ to say, then spit it out.”

You explain.

“What do you mean you’re no longer scared of me like you were at first? You flinched just now!”

You frown.

“Why can’t you put it into words well? Don’t tell me you’re makin’ fun of me?”

You shake your head.

“Then what is it?”

You try and put your feelings into words.

“Haah!? I don’t understand what you mean with ‘because we understand each other now’. Geez. ...But well, there’s a few things I learnt through living together with you as well, I guess. Humans are weak. They die so easily. They’ve got a limited life span as well. ...That’s not all. They love to fuss ‘bout the details and they’re so infuriatingly slow and clumsy. They get upset over the most trivial things or cry over nothing. Also...Sometimes the strangest things make them happy. Furthermore, they’d go through the trouble of comin’ to these kinda places. Ahー What a drag.”

You thank Ayato for keeping up with you.

“Che...Why are you thanking me now? I really don’t understand that sorta behavior of yours. Fuck.”

You ask if he would like to head back soon.

“Aah...? What do you mean ‘soon’? Of course I want to head home already! ...But well, you still want to stay here a lil’ longer, right? ...Just the two of us.”

You nod.

“Oh? You’re bein’ surprisingly honest. Do you want to be with me that badly?”

You nod again.

“Heh. You just said you want to be together forever, huh? Fool. You really think I’d let you go? You can no longer leave me. ...Not ever.”

You suddenly frown.

“What? Got a problem with that?”

You quickly turn your head and try to make excuses.

“No point in tryin’ to hide it. You’re an open book after all. ...Don’t tell me you actually believe you could get away from me?”

You shake your head.

“If that’s not it, then don’t look so damn anxious. ...Heh. Actually, I bet you were thinking that you can’t live forever?”

Your eyes widen in surprise before you ask him how he knows.

“Heh. I know everything that goes on in that head of yours. ...Don’t be worryin’ about those kind of stupid things. Did you drag me all the way out here to talk ‘bout that shit? ...You didn’t, right? Pretty sure I told you to entertain me.”

Ayato suddenly pins you down.

*Thud*

“I bet you’re rackin’ your brain over complicated shit again? Good job gettin’ yourself pinned down. ...Just so you know, there’s no point in tryin’ to cover it up. Even if you keep quiet, I can tell by lookin’ in your eyes. Che...! I should just be the only thing on your mind. Well, I’ll just force myself inside your head if I need to. ...I’ll make it so you can’t worry about anything unnecessary.”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“I’m not lettin’ you go any time soon...So brace yourself.”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Nnh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“...Hah. Come on. Sit up already. Don’t you understand? I’m givin’ you special permission to sit down on my lap. Hurry up...”

*Rustle rustle*

“Say…Doin’ this doesn’t feel half bad, does it? …Just admit it.”

*Sluuuuurp*

"Come on. Don’t close your eyes. Make sure to watch…how you’re bein’ turned into a mess.”

*Sluuuuurp*

"Hehehe…Seems like you’re ‘bout to lose it from sheer excitement. Show me more of that expression.”

*Sluuuuurp*

"Don’t you dare let the other guys see you like this.”

You whimper.

“Listen up. You’re fated to continue havin’ your blood sucked by me like this. Both now and in the future. Foreverーー”

You nod.

“Heh. Glad you understand.”

Ayato gets up and wipes some dirt off his pants.

“…Woah. The wind has picked up. …Oi, we should probably head home soon. I don’t want to get nagged at later.”

You remain unmoved.

“Come on. Get up already. Or has your back thrown out? …Guess you leave me no other choice.”

*Rustle*

“Come on. Gimme your hand. …Hah? What’s wrong? Grab it already.”

You shake your head.

“Oi, there really is somethin’ off ‘bout you? Come on.”

Ayato grabs your hand.

“…Eh? Doesn’t your hand…feel colder than usual? What’s wrong, for real? …Can’t you hear me? Oi! …Idiot! Don’t close your eyes! Answer me! Chichinashi!!

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Ayato calls her 無欲 or ‘muyoku’, which is used to describe someone who is free from any ‘worldly desires’.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers daylight #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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peaxhcringe · 4 years ago

Note

noya’s girlfriend being insecure about herself around kiyoko and yachi (cause they are so damn cute) and noya finds out and tells her stuff like “you’re the best thing that has happened to me” and stuff

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like it and if not please feel free to rerequest something else. I want to thank my friend @socialxcatastrophe for helping me write the ending when I got stuck. I hope you enjoy this and I once again apologize for taking so long to finish this request.

Tags/Warnings: Suggestive content towards the end, thought of insecurities and self-doubt, a tad bit of arguing

Word Count: 2.4k

Request are: Open

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kiyoko! You look so gorgeous today my goddess!”

A sigh leaves your lips as you hear the voice of your boyfriend and his best friend bounce off the gym walls. Your eyes glance over to them, watching as Nishinoya and Tanaka make heart eyes at the other manger. Carefully, you set down the now filled water bottles next to the bench for the guys, just slightly regretting your choices of choosing to help the team out today. The squeaking of the boy’s shoes against the hardwood flooring of the gym ring your ears as Coach Ukai calls for them all to begin practice. You stand up just in time to see Noya pass you, not even giving you a second glance as he rushes onto the court like the ball of energy he is.

You have slowly gotten accustomed to Noya’s typically obliviousness to you whenever Kiyoko was around, her presence always seeming to overshine yours, even in your own boyfriend’s eyes. You’ve only been dating for a few months, and within those few months, you come to realize that there are only 2 important women in his life:

1. Kiyoko

2. You

In that exact order

You weren’t sure if people on the team noticed the way he ignored your entire being but seeing the way Ennoshita or even Daichi would look at you when Noya would start on one of his Kiyoko tangents you think they did

You didn’t hate Kiyoko, no, not at all, you completely understood why the boys gush over here like she’s gorgeous, but for your boyfriend to not even compliment you in the way he does her it hurts.

“Y/n!”

Your headshot up as Noya’s voice rang in your ear, a smile crossing your face as he speaks your name. A hopeful part of you waiting to hear sweet praise or maybe even a simple ‘you’re looking good’ from him

“Can you toss me that ball?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, you almost want to burst right there, not out of anger, but sadness. Your chest aches as your glance over to the volleyball that had landed next to you, your smile not once fading as you go to pick up the light ball before Yachi quickly grabbed it looking furious.

“How dare you Noya! Y/N deserves to be treated as more than-”

Thunk

Your eyes grew wide as Yachi fell to the ground, her shoelaces pulling down her small feet.

“Ow, that really hurt!” She whimpered her now timid voice sent a shiver down the boy’s spine as they all stared directly at her.

A sigh left your mouth, your eyes rolling in annoyance...you knew exactly what would happen next.

Suddenly all the boys rushed to her side slowly pushing you further away as they leaned down to assist the now blushing Yachi. You were grateful that they helped her but a pinch of guilt bothered you again as you heard Noya and Tanaka whispering about how cute she looked as her face was lit up in embarrassment.

“Y/n?” Kiyoko’s soft voice begins, a gentle resting on your shoulder as you turn your head to meet the woman standing next to you, who you didn’t even notice was there, to begin with.

You hum in response, too scared to speak in case the tears that were slowly building behind your eyes decided to fall.

“He loves you,” She says simply, a soft smile resting on her face as she looks at you

You scoff, crossing your arms across your chest as you tilt your head down to face the floor, a lump growing in your throat. For a moment you think to reply to her ‘I think he loves you more’ or even ‘I doubt that’, but instead the words that leave your mouth are

“I know”

Did you believe the words you spoke? No, not one bit, but you didn’t want to have her worry for you or even speak to you any longer. Kiyoko simply nods at your repose, before silently walking away, back to the coaches as the boys continue on their practice game.

Yachi had gotten up now throwing the ball across the gym floor causing the boys to sprint after it like a pack of hungry wolves.

You realized a more accurate version of your list put you even further down:

Kiyoko

Yachi

You

Before the game even finishes you leave, not being able to watch your boyfriend play and always checking to make sure Kiyoko or the new manager Yachi were watching his epic ‘rolling thunder’ move. It felt weird to not walk home with Noya by your side, always jumping around and holding a popsicle tightly in his hand while the other held yours. The way he’d look at you with such love and adoration while you two laid together watching movies or even when you both would chill at the park always sent your heart racing, but lately, it seemed as if that look in his eyes were gone, maybe you were just being delirious, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he lost feelings. The only worst part of today was the fact that your 4-month anniversary was coming up soon, a small part of your mind wondering if you’d even be able to make it to the 4-month mark.

It was around 7 pm when you finally received a text from him, a simple

Where did you go?

You sighed, debating on telling him the truth or plain out lying. You hated lying to Noya but, you also hate being too harsh on the truth. Your eyes close as you lay your head against the headboard of your bed, your shoulder relaxing into the soft pillows, before lifting the phone above your face and replying

I went home Yuu

The text to you sounded a bit more passive-aggressive than intended, as you reread over it after sending it. Within minutes there’s already a reply, a bit of your heart jumping at how quick he responded.

Oh, okay

A frown took place of the tiny smile that tried to show on your lips, your chest almost hurting at the comment. Without a reply, you threw your phone back onto your bed, watching as it bounces off the mattress and onto the floor below. A groan leaves your lips as you stare down at your phone, not even bothering to pick up the phone that was now lying face down. Your eyes glance at the clock, the red numbers of the clock showing 8:15 pm, the sun almost completely set, a gorgeous purple and orange sky shining into your room. You watch as a group of birds fly against the sky, the darkness of the birds looking almost like a painting against the sunset. Exhaustion from the long day at school and the stress from watching your boyfriend’s reactions at practice quickly began to catch up to you the more your body began to relax against your bed, your eyes slowly closing sleeping trying to overtake you.

**********

A soft knock against your bedroom door woke you, the door opening with a creak and filling the once darkened room with the light from the hallway.

“What is it?” You call out, your voice slightly hoarse from how dry your throat had become

There’s an eerie moment of silence, as your bedroom door closes and the floorboards began to creak as someone walks across the room. Your eyes open and try to adjust to the dark room, just in time to notice the person laying something down in your desk chair before making their way to your bed. Lifting a hand your rub your eyes, before you reach over to your nightstand and flipping on your lamp.

“Yuu?” You mumble, noticing the short figure that stood in front of you “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my texts” He spoke, a hint of a pout in his voice as he comes to stand by your bed

You rub your eyes one last time before sitting up, the warm sheets slowly falling down your arms letting the cool air rush against your skin.

“You texted me?” You asked, not remembering ever getting a text from him or even hearing the little ringtone he chose himself

You lifted your arms up to stretch, before picking up your phone that laid on the nightstand, opening the bright screen to see a bunch of texts from him.

Are you okay? Daichi texted me telling me you looked upset before you left Y/n? You okay? y/n? I’m coming over

A sigh left your mouth as you set your phone back down, only this time laying it on the bed. You lifted your head, your eyes meeting for a split second before Nishinoya climbed onto your bed, sitting across from you.

“What’s up sunshine?” Nishnoya asks, his head tilting to the side like a curious puppy.

Your gaze moves from him as you shrug your shoulders, although you knew exactly what was wrong. Instinctively you went to the play with the edge of your blanket, trying to find a way to calm the anxiety creeping up in the back of your mind.

“Promise you won’t be mad?” You ask, not looking at him, embarrassed to tell him the truth.

“Of course not! I’d never be mad at you” He assures, one of his hands reaching out and grabbing yours, giving it a small squeeze before his eyes met yours

“Are you still- I mean do you still...like me?” The question bounced off your lips, the words fading into the silence of the dimly lit room.

Noya looked at you confused, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’m confused, of course, I still like you, you’re my girlfriend and I-”

“Then why don’t you act like it!” You shouted, cutting Noya off causing his eyes to grow wide before your own filled with tears.

You had pushed him away now, unable to stop the waterfall of emotions and tears. He stared at you for a moment in shock before grabbing your arms, putting them on either side of you begging for you to look at him.

“I- I don’t understand Y/N, what did I do?”

You scoffed as he stared at you waiting for an answer, “Seriously Noya,” you said purposely avoiding his first name, “how can you not tell?!”

He stared at you dumbfounded, causing you to sit up all the way, angrier than before.

“How do you think it makes me feel to see you flirt all day with Kiyoko or Yachi and not even bear me a second glance! Why in the hell am I your girlfriend when you obviously would rather have one of them?!”

Noya frowned and quickly put his hand under your chin, causing your eyes to meet with his again. “Why would I ever want anyone over you, Y/N?”

You sniffled your anger fading as you looked into his sincere eyes. “You constantly flirt with them Yuu, and it hurts.”

His eyes grew wide as he realized why you were upset.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry I didn’t think-”

“That’s the problem Yuu,” You whisper avoiding his sharp eyes, “you don’t think.”

You realized that you had gone too far when you saw the look that spread across Noya’s face.

“Yuu I-”

“You’re right.” He got up off of the bed, his feet hitting the floor before he headed towards the door.

You quickly realized what was happening and ran after him grabbing his wrist before he shut the door. You walked out after him, slowly shutting your bedroom door before leaning up against it, afraid to look at him and see what you had done.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered moving your hand into his, interlocking your fingers not wanting him to leave.

“You don’t have to be.” He whispered turning around and slamming his hand against the door.

His eyes were swelling with tears as he buried his face in your neck.

“Yuu…”

“I never meant to hurt you, I don’t deserve you Y/N, I’m so sorry…” His voice came out in fragments as he tried to regain his composure.

“It’s okay..” you lied, not wanting to hurt him anymore before he pulled back in shock.

“Y/n, I know it’s not, god I never wanted you to think you were anything less than the most important thing that had happened to me.”

“What?” You whisper, unsure if you heard him right.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me Y/n.”

Your eyes fill with tears as you throw yourself into his arms, gripping him tightly as his hand slowly starts to stroke your messy hair.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” You whisper against the fabric of his bright orange uniform.

“It’s not enough Y/n, I promise I will never make you feel like that again, you’re the only girl I’d ever want.”

His hand suddenly slips into the pocket of his shorts pulling out a small, black box.

“I was going to wait until our anniversary to give this to you but I think it makes more sense to give it to you now.”

You slowly open the box to find a set of matching rings, each engraved with the day Noya asked you out all those months ago.

“I love it.” You whisper, grabbing the smaller ring for yourself and slipping the medium-sized onto his.

His eyes meet with you before he suddenly leans forward pressing his lips against yours, causing you to drop the soft, black box in shock.

Your arms instinctively go around his neck as he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pushes you against the door. His hands slipped under your school uniform you forgot to change out of earlier that day, the ring cold against your skin.

His hand starts reaching for the doorknob, struggling to get it open as he refuses to take his eyes off of you.

“Yuu..” You whimper as the door opens and he whisks you inside, slamming it behind you as he tosses you on the bed.

He groans against your neck as he lands on top of you, your legs instantly falling open, locking around his waist.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me, Y/n.” He says staring directly into your eyes as his body moves closer.

Your face turns a bright red as he rips off the buttons on your once nice uniform and throws in onto the floor where your phone had landed just hours ago. His breath tickled against the side of your neck as he started to leave a mark against your soft skin before his hands started to trace the lace in your exposed bra.

“Please..” you whisper, afraid and excited about what Noya would do next.

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Thank you for reading! My request are open so please feel free to request but please read my rules before doing so! Thank you again!

#beth answers ✍️#beth requests✨#haikyuu smut #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya fluff #nishinoya smut #haikyuu requests #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya x y/n #haikyuu

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