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ziracona · 3 years ago

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[Fate Grand Order AU] The Kid pt: 1, ... 8, 9, 10,?

“Ready?”

We both nod. Ritsuka takes a very deep breath, and exhales slowly. I know she’s scared, and it’s no wonder. I would be too, if I was her; who wouldn’t be?

I’m not though.

Really, not at all. I’m doing what I want, and I’ve got the best non-master I’ve ever had with me, and an archer I trust. I’ve survived the impossible, and I’m heading in for revenge and some rescues with a good plan.

I’m feeling lucky.

“Once we’re in there, stay close to me,” says Emiya.

Ritsuka nods.

“I mean it. We’re going to be stretched thin once the fighting starts in earnest, and neither he nor I are going to be as capable as we usually are. That means we’re going to depend on you to keep up and keep your eyes open. I won’t be able to watch you the whole time, but if you stay by me, you’re not going to get hurt. I promise.”

I look over at Emiya. He sounds so intense, and sincere. I still haven’t figured this guy out, but I can tell he genuinely cares about the kid, if for no reason other than she is a kid, and a nice one. I believe him, because I can tell it’s important to him, and not because she’s his master. He wants to keep her safe.

I mean, who wouldn’t.

Ritsuka meets his gaze and gives a very serious nod.

Emiya returns it.

“Good,” says Emiya, “I know this is a lot for your first time, but we’ve got a plan, and you’ve got two servants watching your back. Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”

You know she’s scared too, I think, smiling a little to myself.

“Like he said,” I promise, and I give her a smile when she glances my way, “We’re gonna keep you safe, and we’re gonna save everyone in there. Just you watch, partner.”

She smiles back and gives another nod. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

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

This is some kind of sick joke.

Shit…

Where did they even get a nun? Where do you get someone for…for something like…this…

I’m not…not entirely sure this is happening at all. It happened before. But things look different. Feel different.

This. Didn’t…happen to me like this. It didn’t happen to me when I was a heroic spirit.

That’s about all I have energy to think about.

You forget, when it’s been long enough, that losing blood makes you nauseous. Why?

I don’t know.

I don’t know…

Wrists hurt, a little. They cut pretty deep—she cut pretty deep. Mostly I just want to vomit. I’ve wanted to vomit for days. I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted that as a heroic spirit before.

It’s not an impulse I’m…s-still supposed to have.

There’s so much sweat soaked into everything, my hair’s gotten matted to my face and it makes it hard to see anymore. I can really only make out anything from my left eye now. So tired…

I wish it would just fucking be over. I’ve died before; I could die again. Instead I’m dying, for so long. So long.

Why?

What on earth is the point in all this?

It’s dark in this room. It’s always so fucking dim. I can see her just fine though.

She’s…she’s here all the time, it feels like. It must be more than one of them. It gets hard to remember, but, none of them look like my cousin did. I guess that must not matter.

Does to me though. Makes this whole thing feel like a joke. They didn’t quite do it right.

I wonder if it’s just that someone really hates me?

I’ve made my fair share of enemies, I’m sure. Can’t think of why else someone would set this up. They’re really taking their time if…

I zone out, or pass out. I’m rarely sure anymore. Consciousness comes and goes, but it comes more than I wish it did.

I’m so tired. I feel cold and hot at the same time, but mostly cold. Strange.

Losing blood, just feels weird. Disoriented, sick. Pain is better, pain you can focus on. This is like…being ill. You’re not all there.

For some reason it makes me angrier I’m on a bed.

I forget that part. Bolted down with several bands—I’ve tried to break them when I’m conscious enough to remember I should, but there’s some powerful antimagic on them, and whatever they’re made of, it’s meant to repel heroic spirits. I can’t do shit to them, not like this anyway. I can’t flee either. Tried that before I tried anything else.

Laid on a cot, bolted down to it, bleeding and bleeding and bleeding from wrists slit so deep. They never stop bleeding, and I never run out. I’m always just on the edge of it, just on the edge of having so little my brain has to shut down, just little enough I’m nauseous and cold and pouring sweat. It hurts, but not as much as dying should, and that makes it worse too. Someone’s hunted hard for the way I died, and recreated meticulously but not so meticulously as to make me think I’m important one of the worst things that was ever done to me, and to add insult to all that I’m dying slowing for days and days on a bed. Like there’s any point in pretending this isn’t as brutal as possible.

It’s funny it was one of the coins I gave her they used to summon me. Makes me furious. Of all the catalysts.

I guess someone was really proud of their poetic timing.

I tried, a couple times, to talk to the nun in here. She’s always nearby. Sometimes she comes over does something to the cuts on my wrists. I thought she was cutting deeper the first time, but she isn’t. She’s…play-acting. Like there’s any point to that, to any of this shit.

I tried talking.

I…

When did I get here?

It’s too much, trying to focus. I have to stop and clear my head because the nausea is too damn strong. Wait, breathe, try and stay calm, try and not pass out.

…I got here… Don’t know when. That’s okay. That’s okay. Who was there?

…

She was. One of them. Summoned me. I remember…being a little shocked, to see a nun dressed like that in this time. I should have been more suspicious. Used a seal on me. To…

…Lay down.

That’s right. Fucker. Of all the things. Not pass out, not stop moving, not ‘don’t resist.’ No. Go lay down. Go stick your own head under the guillotine.

Fucking mages.

Lay down. And ‘stay there’.

I remember…knowing it was bad when I got the first command. There’s nothing normal about being summoned into a small lab room with nothing but a chair and a bed in it. Magic resistance isn’t my forte, even as a knight class, but I tried. God, that hurts. I don’t think non-spirits have any fucking idea how much it hurts to try and resist a command spell. It feels like every atom of your body is being ripped apart by your attempt to pull away from it. It’s fucking excruciating.

But I’m not stupid, and I knew it was bad. So I tried. She ordered me again, same command. That’s right…. Right. And I couldn’t stop then.

Bottoming out, strange feeling, like I knew I was about to die. It felt, surreal… Always does, when someone who isn’t you is walking your body around with you still inside it.

Laid down. And she commanded me to stay there. I thought she’d be out then, but she had more than three somehow. I tried to resist that one too. The whole time she was fastening bolts in place over my limbs and throat and torso so I couldn’t move once the spells wore off, the whole time she was setting her fucking bowl up under my arms, and the whole time she was cutting into my arms.

…

She didn’t even do it fast. Just calm, and casual. Like it was any other job. Like she was…oiling a lamp or something.

When I realized there was no way I was going to make it out by resisting, I tried talking to her. I was afraid she’d order me to shut up too, but she didn’t. Didn’t seem to feel a need to.

I asked her what she was doing, what she wanted—why she was doing it. I tried pleading. It’s been a long time, but once the knives came out, and everything clicked as what it was, I did. I tried telling her she didn’t have to do this, I tried pleading with her to not, to stop. To tell me why.

She never even looked me in the face. Not like she was afraid to, either. Afraid to feel guilt. It was like it wasn’t worth her time.

There were others, after the first. I’ve tried talking to them all. I’m sure I’ve forgotten faces, and tried more than once.

Most of them don’t even look at me.

None of them ever even give me an answer.

No one’s even told me why I’m here.

I have no idea what they want. Why they’re doing this.

How long it’s been.

If it’ll ever end.

I’m so tired. I would give anything to be able to just vanish into the shadows right now and breathe again, for even five minutes.

Funny. Usually I try so hard not to spend too long thinking about my old life at all.

It’s hard, you know. I try not to think about that either, but normal people, they get afterlives, reincarnation, something. For us, going on after we die means we just don’t see the people we loved again. Even if we’re…unlucky enough they’re also made into a heroic spirit, we maybe cross paths once every 300 years, and then it’s with mages forcing us to take up our weapons and kill each other in some ritual we never cared about at all.

So I try not to think about them. Because I miss them.

Of course I do. We all do. And I don’t think I could stand thinking about that much.

God I hope they’re happy, and that they’re together, all of them, wherever they are now.

I hope Little John was okay. I hope Will didn’t blame himself, when I was the one who didn’t take his advice.

I hope they know I miss them.

I hope they understand why I try so hard not to think about them.

I love them way too much to let myself do that. I’d never be able to bear it.

But.

It’s so hard, like this. I try, but I can’t not think about that Priory in Kirklees. I can’t not think about the one person with me, or the people I left behind to get there.

…

I remember still. How sad he looked, when I asked him to bury me somewhere green. I knew he would do it, though.

I’ve never gotten to see my own grave. I went to look, once, but I know the place there’s a marker up isn’t the right one. Little John has a nice one, though. Under a yew tree. It suits him.

Please. I can’t.

I can’t.

I turn my head, slow, and find the woman dressed like a prioress from another time. She’s sitting in a chair nearby, sewing. God knows why.

There’s no reason to try again, but there’s no reason not to.

“Please,” I try. My voice started sounding hoarse days ago. Now it’s just…weak and dead. I know she can hear me though. She doesn’t acknowledge it, but there’s a little change in her posture, and I see it. Come on. What do you have to lose? Or to gain? “At least just tell me why I’m here. It can’t hurt to tell me that.”

This seems like the one I have the best chance with. Nobody who won’t tell me why they’ve been slowly killing me for days on end in the most fucked up way maybe possible is going to come free me.

Just like before though, she doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look my way.

…I think the bitch smiles. Why?

God damn it.

And then it’s just back to sewing. Like I’m not in the room.

Why. Why won’t you tell me? Why!

I give up. I turn my attention to the bars I’m under, and use every bit of strength I have to try and weaken the restraint bolting down my right hand, like I have every time I’ve tried this. Pretending I might somehow eventually chip away.

Like every other time, the only thing that happens to me is I pass out.

When I wake up again, and my weak vision focuses enough to see well, it’s another woman in the chair, but I recognize her. I’ve tried talking to her before too. How many of them are there in rotation, six?

Where did you come from? Why would you want to do this? What kind of job posting did you even answer to fucking walk in here like this?

Like she can sense me thinking, she turns and glances my way, sets her needlework aside, and stands.

Great.

Wish I’d stayed out, but, it’s a mind game, so of course she was waiting for me to wake up.

I consider trying to knock myself out again, but that would just postpone this, and I am later-me, so there doesn’t seem to be a point. I watch with numbed dread as she picks up a small knife from a little table by her chair and walks over.

“Still afraid to look me in the face while you do that?” I say, hoping to provoke any kind of a response. I don’t get one.

Of course. Figures.

She stoops by the bed and readies the knife carefully by the vein that is still very much bleeding and not even starting to coagulate in my left wrist. This is gonna hurt.

There’s a sound like a truck hitting a wall, and we both jolt and turn our heads to look towards it. There’s nothing there though—still just us in the room.

I listen, ears straining, desperate for any change to this endless fucking routine, and I hear…is that. …It can’t be gunfire? Can it?

But that’s what it sounds like. For just a second, but I could swear...

I don’t think the prioress actor can hear it, because she isn’t as alarmed as I’d think, hearing gunfire, but she’s definitely on edge after the crash. She stands up, knife still in hand, and gives the direction the thud came from a wary look.

Please be someone shooting the building up. Just come in here and put a bullet between my eyes and send me back to the throne—I’m begging you. Mercy kill me. Please.

Shit, that won’t work will it. Fuck—I have god damn catalysts. They’ll drag me right back with that coin.

Not if they’re all dead, though. I pray to God in my head that this is some mage-on-mage war breaking out and that might happen. I doubt I’ll be that lucky though—feels like a long time since my prayers were so miraculously answered.

I stop hearing what I thought was gunfire, and my heart sinks.

The fake prioress stands where she is a few more seconds, still wary, then seems to calm back down, and turns back to me again.

Shit.

There’s a smashing sound and sudden light from the far end of the room, and in the second I squint, trying to adjust to it, there’s a flash of intense motion that’s humanly impossible and something rams into the prioress’s face and sends her flying back so hard she dents the wall behind me, and I’m suddenly looking up in shock at the worried face of a heroic spirit I know.

No. I’m dreaming. There’s no way this is happening to me for real. I don’t have good luck of any kind. There’s-

“Robin!”

But that’s his voice. Sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Out of everyone in the world, somehow it’s one of the few heroic spirits I can call a real friend.

“Billy?” I manage in disbelief. Even with limited vision from one eye, it’s clearly him. Jacket and shirt bloody like he’s been shot, but acting completely fine, colt in his hand—Oh my God.

“In here!” calls Billy over his shoulder, then he’s beside me in a heartbeat, taking in the scene for a split second before immediately going for the restraints.

“Wait, don’t-“ I try to warn him, but I’m too late, and he yelps in pain and snags his hand back shaking it reflexively. “Anti-spirit enchantment,” I explain sympathetically.

“Damn it,” says Billy, still shaking his hand, “Okay—hang on—Ritsuka!”

The name is delivered over his shoulder, and I turn to look and see two more figures. There’s a taller spirit whose form I find vaguely familiar, even though I can’t see him well, standing by the door. Lookout, I think. And then a smaller person—a girl, a kid, running towards us.

A…Not a spirit—a mage?

Must be.

Doesn’t smell like one though. Just smells like a human.

When she gets close enough to see me, she skids to a momentary stop and her eyes go wide with horror and she looks sick, but before Billy even has to prompt her, she’s moving forward again, and she makes it to me out of breath in only another second, casting Billy a worried look.

“I can’t open them,” explains Billy quickly, gesturing to the restraints, “I could try and blow them off, but that’ll be loud, and it’ll be a—”

“—I-I got it,” she interrupts, “But how do I—” She stops and stares at the bolts holding me down and furrows her brow, then gives Billy a confused look like this is some kind of trap. “But they’re not locked?”

“Was mine?” asks Billy.

His? …Oh no. Oh Billy, I’m so sorry. I try and remember how he died. I think it was a shit death.

“Yours was different—I mean, it was sort of locked, but it was all hooked up to a computer. This is just…a little twist lock, like a door bolt,” answers the girl.

“Doesn’t matter,” says Billy, “He can’t touch it.”

“Oh—Oh right!” she says, realization in her face, and then she’s turning the locks on the bolts and tugging them up and off me as fast as she can. She does the one Billy had indicated, my left wrist, first, but then she gets the one on my neck, and something about that makes me like her. It’s not the most practical choice, but it was the most distressing one, and I like what that says about her priorities.

“Hi, uh—” she hesitates to give the fake prioress a kind of worried grimace, then looks back at me as she goes, “Y-you’re gonna be okay, okay?”

“—Robin Hood,” adds Billy for her with a nod. Her eyes widen.

“Robin Hood?”

That’s nice. Still surprises me when someone reacts to my name like they just heard ‘King Arthur’. Who’d have thought?

“R-Robin Hood,” she says again, nervously turning back to me and trying to give a reassuring smile as she unlocks restraints, “We’re here to help. We’re going to rescue you and all the other heroic spirits trapped here.”

‘Other’? God, I wonder how many more of us there are… I’m working hard to think fast about what those words might mean.

She gets the fourth bolt and something happens and I suddenly feel overwhelmingly sick, and my vision goes black and I’m gone.

I’m not sure how long it’s been when I come back. My head is throbbing and my body feels weak and drained, and I’m so terrified that this scenario I can vaguely remember is some fever dream and it’s just going to be me and that woman in this room, but when I open my eyes, there’s two blurry figures above me, and one silhouette is blonde and the other a redhead, and in the six seconds it takes for my sight to focus that makes me hopeful.

“Robin?”

Billy’s voice, and I can tell from his tone he’s called my name several times. I vaguely register pressure on my shoulder, gentle. He’s…worried about me…

“Yeah,” I slur a little, but I get out.

“Crap,” whispers the girl, who looks pale as a ghost now, “Robin?” she tentatively asks louder, “This thing they have you in, I think it’s what’s giving you enough mana to stay alive, and if I remove it-“

“-I’ll die,” I answer unevenly, filling in the blanks.

“Will you form a contract with me?” she asks worriedly, glancing at her hand, and then holding it out towards me like an invitation. “I-I promise I’m only here to help, so you can stay grounded a-“

“Absolutely,” I croak out, weakly slinging my bleeding left hand up as high as I can get it, “I accept your offer. Let’s do this.”

She looks kind of shocked.

“You’re with Billy. Who I trust,” I explain slowly with what energy I have left, and I see Billy smile out of the corner of my eye, “So I know I can trust you. And honestly, kid, I’d take anything over this shit right now. It really can’t get worse let’s do this.”

I meet her gaze, and she still seems a little taken aback, but relieved too, or happy, and she gives me a fervent nod and takes my hand in hers very gently, careful of the wound on my wrist, then places her right hand on top.

“My soul becomes your will; your spirit becomes my destiny. If you accept this contract with me, then answer my call,” promises the girl unlike any way I’ve heard a mage offer a contract to me before. I feel more like I’m being promised something than asked to sign a contract suddenly, and it’s an odd feeling. But a welcome one. “and bind to me; Archer!”

I look her in the eyes and say, “I accept your contract,” and there’s a flash of red light from her hand and I feel the connection take root and suddenly I’m getting a little stream of mana I wasn’t before, and my head feels clearer than it has since the moment I was summoned.

When I look back up, the kid is watching me worriedly, but she must see something good in my reaction, because she smiles at me and sets my arm down gently, then goes back to speed-ripping the restraints off. She’s down to like, ankles and one leg when she goes, “OH CRAP!” and pops back up into my view, since I sure as hell haven’t felt like trying to sit up yet, and whips around to face me.

“I-I’m so sorry—I’ll get those in a second, but let me—”

She’s going for my wrist, and I’m confused for a millisecond, then I get it and relax, and let her lift my arm. The kid does it gently, supporting my weight with her right hand and carefully placing her left over the wound, and she shuts her eyes and scrunches her face up in concentration, and I feel a faint pulse of mana, and the pain in wrist fades to almost nothing.

Pausing for a quick glance at her work and seeming relieved by it, the kid sets my arm down and does the same thing with the other. She’s sweating now, and looks a little shaky, but if she’s somehow supporting both Billy and me at the same time, it’s really no wonder her mana’s kind of tapped out. Actually it’s a wonder she’s signed on two servants. –she has, right?

Wait—shit. I forgot the one at the door. That’s impossible though, right? No normal mage has the mana for that, let alone a kid, and I don’t think we’re in a holy grail war right now or something. He must be contracted to someone else?

Finished, the girl goes back to freeing the last few restraints, and Billy kneels by me and tugs some fabric out of a pocket and takes my wrist himself. It’s not bleeding anymore, but the cut’s still there, which is about how it felt, so I’m not very surprised to see remnants of a wound. Billy begins wrapping the incisions for me, and I keep still while they both work. I know I’m gonna have to stand up in a minute, and I’m gonna need whatever energy I can get.

“So,” I say with a tired smile, watching Billy as he wraps the cut.

“So,” he echoes, grinning at me, “Surprised I swung in to rescue you? –Well, we swung in?”

“I mean, yeah,” I answer, “Completely. I can’t even pretend not to be.”

His grin widens.

“…Did you pistol whip that prioress into the wall?” I ask after a second, trying to keep the smile twitching at the edge of my lips from becoming real.

Billy glances over at where she landed with a bit of a grimace, then glances back at me and says, “Well, she was about to cut into you with a knife.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” I say, and I’m sure damn well not.

“She-she’s still breathing, right?” asks the mage kid worriedly, hearing us.

Billy glances over at the body again.

Huh. I guess the kid is trying to avoid fatalities. She must be his master too, the way she’s talking to him, and he’s acting, so she is supporting two. A little odd for a mage to be so soft, but I guess she is pretty young. Kind of nice. I guess. Though I really wouldn’t mind if that bitch was dead… Still, probably for the best.

“Yeah, she’s breathing,” confirms Billy before turning back to me, “Don’t worry—I definitely broke some bones, but she’s alive.”

“Oh good,” says the girl in relief.

“Didn’t know your precision gun skills extended to pistol-whipping,” I comment with a smile.

“Hey, they extend to everything,” promises Billy warmly. God it’s good to see him again.

“Why are you here?” I ask, glancing from him to the girl.

“Short version? She happened to see me in about the same spot you are, intervened, and we decided to take the whole place down, like you do,” says Billy happily as he finishes tying off the second bandage, “Archer at the door is Emiya—she summoned him to help us.”

‘Emiya’? I know that name—I remember him. Not sure where—maybe a summoning I lost memories of, but…I don’t have a bad feeling attached, so that’s a good sign. He’s another archer, isn’t he? Huh, what are the odddd----wait!

“She’s contracted to three servants?” I ask in disbelief as Billy slides a hand behind my back and starts to help me up.

“Oh she’s gonna be contracted to at least six before the night’s up,” says Billy.

I gape at the girl.

“I uh, I have weird mana,” she manages in a weak voice, turning red, “I mean a weird amount.”

“Yup, which works great for us! She’s not got much training, so we’re all gonna be running a little thin on mana,” says Billy. I make it to my feet and he lets go, keeping his arms up in case I fall, and I’m unsteady on my own, but I manage to stay standing. “Downside? No noble phantasms for anyone but me, and we all gotta be careful to stay material. Upside? She’s the only mage maybe on the planet who could walk through here and contract to six servants alone.”

“Well, it sounds like we got the better end of that deal,” I say, taking that in and giving my new master a curious once-over. Now that I’m thinking clearer, I see I was right. She’s young—maybe sixteen, seventeen? Japanese. Down a command spell, too.

“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself again,” she says, chagrined, and then offers me a hand, “Robin—i-is it okay if I—?”

“You can call me that,” I affirm with a weak smile.

“Thanks,” says the girl, smiling back warmly, and I’m struck again by just how young she is. It’s not like I’ve really had time to think…any of this through, but. She’s here, saving me. Saved Billy, apparently. She saw what was going on with me, God knows what she saw happening to him, and still, she’s here, stalwartly sticking it out. Just a kid.

I know that’s not right, and a part of me feels guilt suddenly, like somehow it’s my fault she’s here and in danger and in over her head, but it’s not, and I know that. I’m lucky she came here for whatever her reasons are, and I’m damn lucky she’s helping me, and all I can do about it is stick by this new master and keep her safe in thanks.

“Robin, I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru—you can call me Ritsuka,” she adds, offering a hand for a handshake. I take it.

“Nice to meet you Ritsuka,” I say, “Thanks for the rescue. I owe you big; just tell me what you need, and I’m yours, Master.”

Her eyes widen a little and her expression changes to distressed. Hm?

“Oh, please—just Ritsuka,” she says, “You aren’t my servant, and I’m not here to be your master either. I just want to be your ally. I-I mean, you’re Robin Hood.”

I blink, surprised. “You don’t want to be called that?”

“I don’t want to be that,” she says, flushing a little, “I know technically you contracted to me, but I promise I won’t try to force you to do anything. I don’t want to be your master; just your friend.”

That might be the sweetest thing someone has said to me in the last hundred years, and it’s some kid I’ve only just met who’s got no earthly reason at all to be helping me. Something about her in that moment reminds me of Will, something about the intense fervency and the delivery of such a dramatic statement with so much genuine meaning and complete sincerity you can’t help but find it impossible to mock. It makes me like her.

“Well okay then,” I say, “If that’s how you want it. You’re very generous, Ritsuka.”

She beams like that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to her in the last 300 years, and I see Billy watching like a proud parent or something, matching grin on his face.

“Okay, great! We better get moving. We’ve mostly been able to sneak so far, so keep it down, but they definitely know something is up. Come on!” says Ritsuka, turning back towards the door and hurrying off, waving me and Billy after her. Billy lets her get a little lead and then slides an arm around my back and helps me towards the door.

“Really somethin’, huh?” asks Billy very proudly now that she’s not in hearing distance.

“You really god damn lucked out, didn’t you Bill?” I reply, giving him a weak grin.

“Oh, more than I maybe ever have before,” he agrees readily, “Told you my prayers get answered.”

I smile. “Guess they do.” We’re quiet for a second as we catch up to the others at the door. I’m feeling better and better by the second, stronger. Should be able to walk on my own in less than a minute. I’m not getting a ton of mana from the kid up there, but it’s enough I’m healing at a decent speed.

I glance over at Billy once we’re about to them. He looks like he always has. Proud, happy, relaxed, sharp, young and full of potential and hopes and dreams. A more real happy than I’ve seen him look in a long time, but with it, I can see some very recent shadows lingering. I don’t know exactly what he’s been through, but I know it was like the hell I’ve been in the last few days, and that’s enough.

“Hey Bill,” I say quietly, and he glances over expectantly, “Thank you, for coming for me.”

He smiles. “’Course. What are friends for?”

“Saving each others’ asses,” I agree with a tired smile.

“Saving each others’ asses,” he echoes, pleased.

It’s familiar.

I’ve got no real idea what the plan here is, or what my next hour is going to look like, or even if I’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving it, but I feel hopeful. We’ve been in some dire straights together before, and made it out.

Besides, I already got quite a miracle tonight; what’s one more?

“Emiya, Robin,” says Ritsuka proudly, motioning from the tall archer, to me, and back, “Robin, Emiya.”

Emiya gives me a nod. He’s familiar as hell, and I see recognition in his eyes I think, but I just can’t god damn place him. I’m right, I can tell—it’s a summon I’ve lost memories from, god damn it. I fucking hate that. I don’t sense any animosity from him though, and I’m not getting any misgivings, so I figure we were at least completely neutral towards each other whenever we met, and that’s a good sign, all things considered. I nod back.

“So,” I say, glancing out into the hall curiously now that I’m there, “Rescue mission, right? For several more of us? We got an actual plan, or we just winging this?”

“Plan,” says Ritsuka like she’s a little surprised and hurt I think she would come here without one.

“Yes,” agrees Emiya, giving me a once-over before returning his attention to the hallway outside, “We’re getting as many of us as fast as possible, because at a power disadvantage, we can use the numbers. And the next step is going to be one floor up, six doors down.”

“Any idea who it is?” asks Billy.

This is the most I’ve seen of the place I’ve been stuck. I barely had time when I got summoned to register the fucking time period, let alone anything about my surroundings. It’s some kind of multi-story building though, modern, security everywhere. Right now, there are alarms blaring, but they don’t sound focused on this level. They must have created one hell of a diversion before coming in—probably the crash I heard earlier. There are about ten unconscious guards in my line of sight up and down the hall; I’m genuinely amazed I can sense them all breathing. I guess Billy was serious about the kid wanting them to hold back. That’s going to be a huge pain with us all fighting weak and wounded, but I guess it’s unavoidable, and I’m not in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth anyway.

“No,” says Emiya, “I don’t recognize the energy signature, and from Ritsuka’s description of the catalysts she saw—if we’re limited to them—could be a large number of spirits.”

Billy gives a nod, adjusts his hat, and casually slings open the barrel of his gun and reloads it without looking away from Emiya. “Well then, let’s go find out.”

“Fast, preferably,” I agree. I don’t care if it’s the most god damn annoying spirit I’ve ever met up there. None of us deserves to be trapped like this another second.

“Okay, keep quiet, stay close,” says Emiya, moving out into the hall.

Okay, I think, watching Ritsuka hurry into the hall after him. Billy gives me a look asking if I’m okay to walk, and I nod and he lets me go and together we step out after them. Alarms blaring, unfamiliar territory, one familiar person, and God knows what in store. Still, I think, keenly aware of the now very faint throb in my wrists. What a comfort relief is. Unlike any other sensation I’ve ever known. Not really anything new, is it? These kinds of odds.

I glance over at Billy. He’s excited and focused, gun ready, eyes bright. It puts me at ease to see it. He’s always like this in a tight spot, but then, he’s about the best spirit I’ve ever known to be stuck in a foxhole with.

I’m sad for just a moment, remembering other people it was good to be pinned down with. Thinking about the worry on his face when he got to my side, and how it’s not the first time a friend looked down in horror and grief at me bleeding out like that. All these things I try never to think of.

But you’d like him, Little John, I think to myself, cheering up a little at the things I know he’d say, He’s a ruffian and an outlaw and a loyal friend, and you’d like him right away—faster even than I did. I know it’s true; I know them both so well by now. He’d be glad there was someone taking up his place, when he couldn’t be here. It’s such a rare thing, for one of us to make a close friend once we’re sent to the throne.

Part of me wonders for a second if he’s why. It’s been a long time since my prayers were answered, but I wonder if my best friend prayed for it enough he got it.

We pick up the pace, and I hear people ahead and summon my crossbow, preparing to fight. I see knives appear in Emiya’s hands and Billy pull back the hammer on his colt in the same instant.

Probably not, I think, closing my eyes and letting myself smile in the one moment before we round the corner on a fight.

But maybe.

Which is a thought worth holding on to.

#fate grand order #fate go #the kid (fic)#the kid #fate go au #fgo au #fate fic #fate au fic #fate go au fic #Billy the Kid #Ritsuka Fujimaru #Archer Emiya #Robin Hood #writing #fgo #fun fact: this was the first segment to make me tear up hells yeah #love u Robin

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years ago

Text

A new us will begin (10/ ?)

word count: 6k

AO3

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 11

Slowly, the snow began to thaw as winter melted into spring.

Dandy had only asked him to stay for the cold months. There had never been any talk of Geralt staying any longer than that.

He did it anyway. No one mentioned it and maybe it was just Geralt’s imagination, but when the first flowers bloomed and Geralt was still with the troupe, the smiles they gave him were warmer and when Nadine hugged him one morning, before he went away for a bit for an easy contract, it felt like a hug that welcomed him to the family.

It took a while to convince Dandy that the contracts Geralt took while the others performed, were nowhere near as dangerous as his fight with the skullwarg. It took even longer until Dandy’s worry for him turned into giddy curiosity.

Dandy kept insisting that Geralt had to give him all the details of his hunts, so that he could stop worrying about him. Geralt gladly obliged.

There was a fluttering in Geralt’s chest like a bird’s wings, when Dandy first announced that he was going to write another play, this one about monsters and witchers.

Watching him work was like watching the sky change colours when the sun rose. Breathtaking, no matter how often he got to witness it.

Sometimes, Dandy dictated the lines his mind created to Geralt or one of the other players. Other times, he wrote them down himself, in a scrip that Geralt had never seen before. The rest of the troupe knew how to read it though, for Nadine read over Dandy’s scripts with a critical eye and gave suggestions where she saw fit.

More and more often, Dandy also asked Geralt for his opinion on what he was writing. His mouth formed a surprised “Oh” when Geralt reminded him that he didn’t know how to read what Dandy wrote.

From then on, Geralt spent most of their evenings after the performances or the fight scene rehearsals with Dandy, who taught him patiently how to read the way he did.

“Here,” Dandy said, when he was satisfied with Geralt’s progress on recognising individual letters. Out of a pocket in his coat, he produced a single sheet of paper and handed it to Geralt. “This was the first thing I ever wrote.”

Geralt hesitated, before unfolding the paper carefully. “You always carry this with you?”

Dandy hummed in affirmation. “I almost left it for my parents to keep. They were so proud when I finally learned to write and read. My mother actually cried and my father hugged me so tightly I thought he was going to break my back.”

A soft smile spread across Dandy’s lips and his fingers gently ran over the paper, tracing the word he had written there decades ago.

It did something strange to Geralt’s chest. “Why did you keep it then?”

“As a reminder. Of my parents.”

Geralt’s hands clenched and unclenched, not knowing what to do.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, placing one hand over Dandy’s. “I know you never mention them, but…if you want to talk about it…”

Dandy’s sudden laughter startled Geralt.

“Oh, no no, they aren’t dead or anything like that.” Dandy turned his hand to guide Geralt’s fingers to the thing he had written there. “Here, read that.”

Geralt did as he was told. “Leon Nowak, Baron of Whitecoast?” Geralt looked up at Dandy to see if he had read it correctly. Dandy beamed and pressed a kiss against Geralt’s cheek. It was a fleeting little peck, nothing more, but Geralt wished it would linger, wished he could just lean down and steal a real kiss from Dandy.

Instead he ran his fingers over the name again.

“Who is that?” Geralt asked.

“Oh.” Dandy waved his hand around, accidentally – or perhaps not so accidentally – swatting Geralt’s chest in the process. “That’s me.”

Geralt’s brows shot up. “You’re a baron? I thought you said you weren’t rich?”

“Well, it’s true. I’m not. My parents are.”

Geralt’s jaw clenched. “They didn’t disinherit you, did they? Because you’re…”

“No. Gods, no they would never do that.” Dandy looked affronted by the very notion. “If I wrote them a letter asking for money, they wouldn’t hesitate to send me a small fortune They even offered the troupe their patronage, should we ever be in need of it.” He let out a small, content sigh. “But I don’t want that. Don’t get me wrong, having money is nice and I love visiting them and not sleeping in a wagon or an inn for once. But I like earning my own coin. Even if it’s not nearly as much as they could give me.”

Geralt gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re good at acting. You seem happy when you’re on stage.”

“I am.” Pride tinged his voice that made Geralt’s heart flutter like a hummingbird’s wings. “It’s really important to me being able to do that.” He let out a short laugh. “I can’t say my parents weren’t worried when I announced that I wanted to travel, but they have supported me every step along the way until I could support myself.”

Geralt ran his fingers over the bumps and dots that were Dandy’s name once more. “They taught you how to write.”

“Eh, not exactly. They had no idea that this kind of script even existed. But they have wealth and influence and they love me enough to use it to get me the best tutor they could find. A sorceress, if you can believe it.”

Geralt’s breath hitched. “What? Sorceresses don’t just become tutors. They are at court or work for the lodge or –“

“Yeah, believe me, I have no idea why Philippa agreed to teach me.”

Geralt’s heart skipped a beat and his blood turning cold. “Philippa Eilhart?”

Dandy drew back in surprise. “You have heard of her?”

“I know her.” I asked her if reincarnation could be possible. I asked her if you could still be alive.

A strange expression flickered over Dandy’s face. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. She talked about you a lot. I always wondered by she kept insisting that should I meet a witcher I should go with him.”

Geralt’s mind was racing, unable to grasp what Dandy was saying.

“She said…that’s why you reacted like that when you found out I was a witcher.” The realisation hit Geralt like a punch, leaving him breathless. “When I told you who I was, you said you needed to think, but you didn’t hesitate to ask me to come back.”

Dandy scooted closer again. “I did. But, Geralt, believe me, I didn’t just ask you to come back because Philippa had told me to. I mean, that was a part of it, sure, but I also wanted to get to know you. And I’m glad I did.”

“I-yeah. I’m glad too.” His thumb caressed Dandy’s knuckles, a soft, soothing motion that was more for Geralt’s benefit than Dandy’s. There was too much to think about, too much he didn’t understand. How long had Philippa known that Geralt’s theory of the reincarnation had been true? And why had she agreed to tutor Dandy without telling anyone who he was?

Knowing that the sorceress had a hand in Dandy’s life, perhaps even orchestrating the way his life would go, left Geralt with a sense of unease. Especially since it was Philippa. The sorceress had never done him any intentional harm, but not once in the long time they have known each other, had she been open about her goals, always playing a different game than anybody else.

“Geralt?” Dandy asked tentatively, when Geralt had been quiet for too long.

Geralt forced himself to snap out of his crushing thoughts and put as much teasing as he could in his voice as he said, “I just have one more question. Why Dandy? Out of all the new names you could have chosen for yourself, why this?”

Dandy let out a bark of laughter, burying his face in Geralt’s shoulder. “I know. It’s a terrible name. In my defence, I didn’t exactly come up with it myself. Technically.”

Geralt chuckled. “It’s not a terrible name. I think it suits you.”

Dandy poked a finger in Geralt’s side with a little growl. “Don’t let Mika hear you say that or I’ll never get to hear the end of it.”

Geralt gave a questioning grunt to which Dandy replied with an overly dramatic sigh.

“You see, when I joined the troupe, I wanted to give myself a stage name.”

“Naturally.”

“Exactly! Good to know we’re on the same page.” Dandy stopped poking Geralt, instead sprawling his fingers across Geralt’s side. “I wanted to call myself Dandelion. You know, sort of as a little wink to my given name. Dande-Leon, as it were.”

Geralt didn’t even try to supress the snort. “That’s a terrible pun.”

“Ah the others agree with you there. No one appreciates my remarkable wit and humour.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “They kept teasing me about being all posh and a dandy when I first joined and somehow that name stuck. Oh, you wouldn’t believe how indignant I was when they started calling me Dandy, but…it was also nice. I’ve never really had friends that would tease me before. Maybe it was because no one wanted to piss off a baron or maybe they thought they needed to be extra careful with me because I’m blind. But the way the troupe talks to me and teases me…it makes me feel like I really, truly belonge.” He nuzzled closer into Geralt and Geralt wasn’t sure if he imagined the stifled sniffle. “And to be fair, Dandelion probably wouldn’t have been the best name.”

“I think it would be a fitting name,” Geralt said softly, stroking Dandy’s hair soothingly. “It’s always the yellow flowers with you, isn’t it?”

The words escaped him without thinking. Dandy’s brows furrowed in confusion, but then he snorted.

“I wouldn’t know about that, now, would I?” He tightened his hold on Geralt.

Geralt hummed in contemplation. “It still fits. My friend always used to wish on Dandelions. Just small things that would come true anyway. ‘I wish for the next performance to go well.’ Or ‘I wish that Roach will start recognising me as a friend and stop trying to bite my fingers.’”

Dandy’s shoulders shook with a chuckle. “Those sound like great wishes. Did they come true?”

“Hmm. He always said they did. But I am pretty sure he just snuck Roach treats behind my back until she started liking him.”

“Sounds like a wise man. If Roach didn’t already love me, I might have tried the same thing. But why would Dandelion be fitting for me then?”

“Because being here with you is everything I could have wished for.”

“You did it!” Dandy beamed with pride. “You read your first play!”

Geralt grunted, but Dandy’s joy was contagious. “With a lot of corrections and help from you. And it was a short play.”

“So?” Dandy nudged Geralt with his shoulder. “You still did it. I can’t believe you really learned to read like that for me.”

“It’s important to you.”

“It is,” Dandy agreed softly, before a sly grin spread over his face. “Now that you’re able to read my scripts, you will be able to learn the lines for your first role.” Mirth brightening his voice and he twirled his cane in excitement.

Geralt made a noise not unlike a startled horse. “My role? I don’t think so.”

“Ah, but my dearest Geralt,” Dandy drawled his name and leaned forward with a shit eating grin. “You promised me you’d play with me if I joined your lessons.” That cheeky bastard.

“I meant the lute.”

“Well, I didn’t. And I don’t have a lute.” He nudged Geralt playfully. “Now come on. I’d love to see you act.”

Geralt put up some more token resistance, but he still joined one mock-rehearsal the players put on, all of them cheering for Geralt to join them and read the lines of the witcher-character.

He felt ridiculous, trying to mimic the actors’ dramatic gestures and way of speaking. It hadn’t taken long until everyone agreed to never have Geralt act on an actual stage, but between his laughter, Dandy assured Geralt, that that was the funniest performance Dandy had ever had the pleasure to listen to.

From then on, the only times that Geralt read lines and tried his hand at acting, was when he helped Dandy practice his own lines by reading the other parts.

Geralt closed his eyes and hummed softly, as Dandy played with his hair.

It was a peaceful moment. Had anyone told Geralt a couple of months ago that he would get to have such moments again, he would have laughed in their face.

And yet, here he was, with Dandy, the man he fell in love with more with each day they spent together. Every morning when he woke up holding Dandy close, his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. Every time, Dandy laughed at Geralt reading his lines, Geralt wanted to taste that laugh with a kiss. Every time Geralt practiced reading the script Dandy had taught him and Dandy squeezed his shoulder with pride, the words ‘I love you’ burned on Geralt’s lips, begging to be spoken. He thought maybe, Dandy already knew.

It was moments like these, that Geralt was sure that he knew Dandy felt the same way, telling him with each touch he gifted Geralt and each word spoken softly between them.

It felt simultaneously strange, so familiar and right, lying with his head in Dandy’s lap, as if he belonged there.

The soft tug on his hair was soothing and nearly enough to lull him to sleep, but Geralt fought his heavy eyelids, unwilling to let this moment be taken away from him by sleep.

Softly, Dandy hummed the melody of the lullaby Geralt had taught him. It was a little off, since Geralt himself hadn’t been able to sing it right, but the melody was just as tender and tearing at his heart as it always had been.

Eventually, the song faded.

“What’s on your mind?” Dandy asked quietly, his fingers never stopping.

Geralt hummed quietly. “Who says that something’s on my mind?”

“There always is.” Dandy’s voice was full of fondness.

“Thinking about you.”

“A very good thing to think about,” Dandy teased and he tugged lightly on Geralt’s hair for emphasis.

Geralt didn’t know if it was the comforting feeling of Dandy touching him or the tone of his voice that loosened Geralt’s tongue and make him ask the question that had been burning at the back of his mind for months.

“Where did you get the inspiration for that play? The one about the pirate?”

Dandy’s hands stilled.

Months ago, Geralt would have begged him silently, please, remember me. Please remember that you loved me.

Now though, that voice inside his head was quiet. Geralt awaited Dandy’s answer with mere curiosity and not that desperation from before. Dandy didn’t need to remember his former feelings for him. It was enough that he was trusting Geralt and holding him dear enough to lie with him as they did now. Even if it turned out that it wasn’t what it had been before, it wouldn’t be any less perfect for it.

“I don’t know,” Dandy said finally. “It just came to me. Sometimes you just start writing and have no control over what comes out and it just felt right, writing that.”

Strangely, Geralt’s heart didn’t sink at that admission. Instead, he gave an acknowledging hum.

“Inspiration is a strange thing,” Geralt repeated what he had said once before, decades ago, when Jaskier had tried to explain to him why exactly it was so inspiring about watching Geralt fight.

Dandy let out a quiet laugh and resumed his ministrations.

“It sure is. And lately, I’ve found that I am chockfull of inspiration.”

Celebrating Belleteyn with the troupe was even more opulent than the festivities Jaskier had always dragged him too. And yet, it was nothing compared to the celebration that came about a week later.

The players pulled all the stops to make Dandy’s birthday truly unforgettable. With food, music and wine to spare, it would have been hard to believe that they were not-so-humble actors instead of nobles, if it weren’t for their total disregard of manners as they celebrated.

Dandy was blossoming in the attention like a flower in the sun. He was filled with so much palpable happiness that Geralt didn’t have the heart to refuse when Dandy grabbed his hand and asked him for a dance. It wasn’t one of those complicated danced with far too many steps to remember, that Jaskier had loved so much. It was but two people swaying in place, holding each other close. Geralt wasn’t sure if Dandy had chosen this dance because learning the steps to any of the elaborate dances was exhausting work for him, or because he liked holding Geralt close just as much as Geralt loved being near him.

That feeling in his chest was warm and fuzzy while they swayed and when Dandy rested his head against Geralt’s chest, he was sure he must hear his heart fluttering. Dandy’s hands on Geralt’s shoulders wandered a bit, playing with his hair and Geralt’s hands on his waist twitched in response, tugging him impossibly closer.

They slowed until they were barely moving anymore. Geralt couldn’t tell which one of them brought the dance to a halt first. All he could focus on was Dandy’s closeness.

Ever so slowly, Dandy lifted his head off Geralt’s chest, one of the hands leaving their place on Geralt’s shoulders and wandering up to cup Geralt’s cheeks.

Geralt leaned into the touch, like a drowning man leaning onto a piece of wood to keep him afloat. In this moment, he knew Dandy’s touch was the only thing keeping him from drifting away, from drowning in the miserable life he had led before Dandy.

“Geralt,” On Dandy’s lips, his name sounded almost like a plea, like a whisper of awe. “Thank you. For being here with me.”

“No place I’d rather be.” He had never meant anything more in his life. A soft smile spread across his lips. “My Dandelion.”

A small gasp escaped Dandy. His hand slowly trailed down until his thumb brushed against the corner of Geralt’s lips.

It wasn’t enough. Geralt wanted more, more, everything. He wanted Dandy. He wanted him to know that he was everything to Geralt.

Had their faces always been that close or had one of them moved closer?

Geralt’s heart sped up when Dandy tilted his head up a little. He was so close. All Geralt had to do was lean forward and capture Dandy’s lips in his.

“Geralt.” This time there was no mistaking that it was a plea.

They were so close that their breaths mingled. Geralt leaned forward and –

He froze, just before their lips could touch. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not like this, with Dandy trusting him so openly to not even have his cane with him, just Geralt to guide him. But he couldn’t trust Geralt. Not when he lied and kept secrets and pretended that they were nothing more than two men who had found each other out of pure chance when there was something so much bigger and more terrible going on.

He pulled back and pretended that his heart didn’t shatter when Dandy’s face fell.

“I think we should join the others again,” Geralt said, his voice rough. “I’m sure Kara is sick of playing that slow song by now.”

“Oh,” Dandy said, his lips pressed into a thin smile that couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Yeah. You’re right. Still got a birthday to celebrate.”

Geralt led Dandy the few steps back from the makeshift dancefloor to the other players.

It shouldn’t have hurt when Dandy let go of Geralt and grabbed his cane again. The ache in Geralt’s chest dulled to a numb throb as Mika whisked Dandy away and brought back the smile that Geralt had stolen from Dandy.

Seeing Dandy happy again – singing and joking with his friends, letting them show him how much he meant to them – was beautiful, but Geralt couldn’t keep dark thoughts from creeping up at him.

He did his best not to let them show, to put cheer into his voice or not speak at all when it became too much, but Dandy noticed anyway. Of course he did.

Dandy didn’t mention it in front of the others, but he did take Geralt’s hand in his, holding it tightly and running his thumb over Geralt’s knuckles in a comforting gesture that soothed Geralt’s whirling thoughts, even though it wasn’t enough to fully keep them at bay.

“Do you want to get away for a while?” Dandy whispered, while Mika and Kara challenged each other to a drinking contest under the shouts and hollers of the others. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just don’t want you to feel bad.”

Geralt’s throat grew tight. “I don’t want to ruin this for you. This celebration is yours, you should enjoy it.”

“I’d enjoy it much more if I knew you were comfortable too.” Dandy squeezed his hand. “It’s fine if this is all a bit too much for you. I don’t mind going somewhere quieter. You know I love being alone with you just as much as I do being the centre of attention.”

“It’s not- it’s not that. It being too loud and too much. I-“ His voice broke off. He couldn’t say it. Not here, not while his friends were cheerful and happy.

Dandy let him take his time but Geralt could read the burning question on Dandy’s face. If it’s not too loud and too much, am I the reason why you’re miserable?

When Geralt didn’t continue, he tugged lightly at his hand. Geralt followed without any resistance, as he always would.

They didn’t walk far, simply putting some distance between the celebrating actors and themselves. They were still close enough to hear the cheering and singing, but it became background noise, same as the wind in the trees or the birds flying up above.

They sat down in the grass, Dandy laying his cane across his lap and pulling Geralt close, until his head leaned against Dandy’s shoulder.

A tremble went through Geralt’s body, as Dandy put an arm around his waist and held him tightly. So often, it was Geralt holding Dandy protectively, whether it was in his sleep or when sitting next to each other while talking. So rarely did Geralt get to feel like he was the protected one, like he didn’t need to carry the weight of the world on his own shoulder. But here Dandy was, offering to share the weight or at least have Geralt tell him just how heavy it was.

And so he did. The words came haltingly, as if a rope around his neck grew tighter with every attempt to speak. Dandy waited patiently for him to gather the courage to share his burden.

When he finally did, it felt both like he could breathe again freely for the first time that day, and as if the words were cutting into his own flesh.

“Today is the anniversary of a…friend’s death.”

Dandy stilled, his only movement came from his free hand plucking out grass nervously.

“Jaskier?” He asked, hesitating.

Geralt blanched. “How do you know that name?”

Dandy’s hand on his waist twitched. “It’s the name you said when you were hurt.” His voice was tight, but soft. “I don’t know if you recognised anything around you, but that’s the name you called out then.” He hesitated. “You say his name in your sleep too sometimes. Did you know that?”

Geralt’s mouth went dry. “I…what?”

A strange smile appeared on Dandy’s lips, too small to be a real one. “Just before you fall asleep. And sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, because you pulled me closer. You always ask me not to leave. And you always call me Jaskier.” The smile was still on his face, but now the stinging scent of salt pierced the air. “He must have been really important to you.”

“He was,” Geralt said quietly. “So are you.”

“But not like him.” Dandy let out a strained laugh that held no humour. “I don’t… I shouldn’t say that. Especially not today. I’m sorry. I should be comforting you. I didn’t mean to…to make it about me.”

“It’s always been about you.” Geralt only realised how his carelessly spoken words must have sounded, when Dandy winced and his hand retreated. Geralt’s hand shot out to stop him from pulling away. “Not like that. It…it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Geralt’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s not Jaskier who died that day. Not exactly.”

Different expressions flickered over Dandy’s face, as if he couldn’t decide which reaction to settle on. Finally, the uncertainty and confusion won out.

“What do you mean?”

An iron fist enclosed Geralt’s heart, squeezed until he thought he would burst. He couldn’t tell Dandy. He couldn’t put that knowledge, that burden, that pressure on him.

But with every second that Geralt hesitated, something crumbled in Dandy’s expression more and more. Geralt couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on in Dandy’s head, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good.

Jaskier had sometimes cried in Geralt’s arms, thinking he wasn’t good enough, he was too loud, too much, too annoying for anyone to like him enough to stay with him for more than a night.

Yarrow had sounded so broken when he had asked Geralt to be his friend and then he had died alone.

Dandy was his own person, with his own struggles. And with his own doubts and the doubts of all the lives before pressing down on him. Geralt ruining his birthday, the day that should be a celebration of Dandy and nothing else, must have only made things worse.

The only thing Geralt could do to try and make this right, was tell him the truth and hope he didn’t destroy Dandy’s life with it.

He took a shaky breath.

“There was someone else. His name was Yarrow. He was…” Jaskier. You. “someone I met on Belleteyn.”

“Oh.” Dandy’s brows drew together. “You met during the feast of lovers. Is that what he was to you then?”

“No. I think he could have been. Or maybe we could have just been friends. Anything would have been better than what really happened.” When Geralt broke off, trying to find the right words, Dandy remained quiet, giving him all the time he needed. Time. The one thing Geralt hadn’t had with Yarrow. “We met in prison. I- We were both alone. He asked me to be his friend. I gave him some light and – I said we weren’t friends.”

Dandy’s breath hitched.

“Geralt,” he said slowly, a palpable tension in his voice. His body was rigid, not daring to move a single muscle. “You asked me about my first play. Geralt, why did you ask me about that play?”

Geralt closed his eyes, focussing all of his attention on Dandy’s hand in his, praying it wouldn’t be the last time that he would get to hold it, knowing that there was little chance Dandy wouldn’t tear it away when he knew what Geralt had hidden from him all this time.

“Because Yarrow and I were friends. In a different life.” His smile turned bitter as he quoted the final line of the play. “Long before I ever met Yarrow – lifetimes before – I was friends with Jaskier.”

“Friends?”

Geralt winced. “First and foremost friends. But also so much more.” His voice broke and he was sure Dandy could feel the tremor of his hand. “And when he died… I couldn’t let go of him. Somehow he came back to me, only the gods know why. He wasn’t the same, but he was. Yarrow wasn’t a bard. He was an artist. But he was Jaskier.”

When he opened his eyes again and glanced at Dandy, afraid what he would find, he saw Dandy’s lips tremble. “Geralt. Why did you call out Jaskier’s name when you were hurt? It was… it wasn’t just you being delirious, was it.”

“No.” Geralt’s throat grew tight, the noose around his neck becoming tighter with every word and yet, he kept going. “When I woke up, I thought I saw him. It was you, of course, but…”

“But it was also him.” Dandy’s voice was completely void of emotion. “Geralt, you don’t think that I’m Jaskier, do you?”

It wasn’t a question. Not really.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt whispered.

This was it. This was when Dandy would pull away his hand as if burned and tell Geralt to leave.

Instead, Dandy’s hand tightened its hold on Geralt, clutching him almost hard enough to hurt.

“What are you sorry for?” Dandy asked carefully.

Geralt looked away, unable to watch Dandy’s face twist in anger.

“I’m sorry because I couldn’t save them. Jaskier, Yarrow, all the other ones. They…they all died. I could have prevented it, I could have done something, but I didn’t even know who they were and then I saw you and – I couldn’t let you die. Not again.”

Dandy’s face did something complicated. The hand not held in Geralt grasped his cane so tightly that Geralt could see the white of his knuckles.

“Geralt, please answer this honestly. Why did you agree to stay with me?” He blinked furiously, but the salt smell only got stronger. “Is it just because I look like him? Because a play I wrote was similar to something that happened to you? Because while you’re with me you can imagine that I’m someone else, someone more important to you?”

“Dandy.” The name tasted like a storm on his tongue, waiting to get unleashed. “You are important to me.”

“Then why? If you think I’m Jaskier and you loved him – if I am important to you, why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Because I love you.”

There was no storm. Only the frightening calm, the fear of what was to come, the terror of having already destroyed all there was.

Geralt’s breath came ragged, while Dandy stilled completely.

“I love you,” Geralt repeated, his voice breaking on the last word. “Which is why I can’t kiss you and lie to you.”

“Because... you only love me because I am him?” Dandy looked so small, so helpless.

Geralt closed his eyes, letting his face fall. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of. That you would think that.”

“It’s not the truth then? You didn’t love Jaskier?”

“I did,” Geralt said sincerely. “I always will. I would have loved him in any lifetime. But I also love you. For being you.”

Geralt shifted so that he was no longer sitting next to Dandy, but facing him.

“I love watching you go on stage and silence an audience with your performance. I love listening to you sing with your friends, as if music was more beautiful to you when shared. I love that you still hum that lullaby for me all on your own, even if you still get the melody wrong.” His voice became thick with emotion, but he couldn’t let himself stop. Not before Dandy knew it all. If he still decided to leave then, at least he would know what Geralt saw when he looked at him. “I love that you fiddle with your cane when you’re nervous or content. I love that you wear ridiculous hats and curl your hair. Jaskier did none of those things. And I love them still, because they are a part of who you are, my Dandelion.”

He prayed Dandy would still be his after this. His friend, if nothing else. Because no matter what, Geralt would always be Dandy’s.

Hesitantly, his free hand came up to Dandy’s face, hovering just above it, close enough that Dandy would be able to feel its heat. For a terrifying moment, Geralt thought Dandy would jerk away, but then he leaned into the touch, turning his head just enough to press a kiss against Geralt’s palm.

“Dandelion…” The name was naught but a breath on Geralt’s lips. A breath like the one a drowning man sucked in when he realised that he was saved.

“Are you sure?” Dandy asked softly.

“That I love you? I have never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“That I’m Jaskier. I- please, Geralt, I need to know that you are absolutely certain.”

“I am. I’m sorry.” Even while he said it, he could see Dandy think of every interaction they ever had, viewing it all in a new light. Dandy’s lips parted and Geralt could practically see the pieces of Dandy’s life slot into place, creating the same picture Geralt had seen since he had met him.

Philippa telling Jaskier to go with Geralt, should he ever meet him. The inexplicable burst of inspiration that had driven him to write his first play. The nearly immediate trust he had put in Geralt. The rhythm he sometimes tapped out and that Geralt just so happened to recognise.

Perhaps there were more puzzle pieces that Geralt had never seen. Strange memories that Dandy had never shared with him but that made more sense now than they ever had.

Whatever details of his life Dandy was thinking about, Geralt could see the moment the uncertainty changed into total conviction. For some reason Geralt couldn’t dare explain, Dandy didn’t draw back, didn’t yell at him, didn’t push him away. Instead, something soft and warm spread across his face; the sun breaking through the stormclouds.

“And you love me.”

“With all my heart.”

“And when I die, I will come back to you again?”

Geralt’s insides went cold. “Dandy, don’t- I’m not going to let you die.“

Dandy’s quiet laugh interrupted him. “That’s sweet, but I’m afraid it’s inevitable. Just, tell me. Will I come back?”

A muscle twitched in Geralt’s jaw. “I think so. I’m sorry, I don’t know why or how, but somehow we are bound to each other. You always come back and sooner or later I find you.”

“That’s good. I would hate for the man I love to be alone again.”

“Dandy –“

He never got to finish what he was going to say, for Dandy let go of the cane, finding the back of Geralt’s neck again and bringing him closer to him.

Their first kiss was little more than a tentative brush of lips against each other, Dandy searching him and Geralt not quite believing what was happening, not yet understanding that he could have this.

Dandy pulled back again, just enough to be able to speak. “Geralt? Just to make this clear, I love you too. I love that you saw me at my most vulnerable but you still don’t think that I need help in everything I do. I love that you are a terrible storyteller and an even worse actor. I love that you tell me of your contracts and help me with rehearsals even so. I love the way your scars feel beneath my fingers and I love the way you don’t let me go in the mornings, even when you wake up first.” He drew in a breath and pressed their foreheads together. “I love that you can love me for me.”

Geralt let out a wet laugh, unable to blink back the burning in his eyes or fight down the tightness in his chest.

“You just had to make a better declaration of love than I did,” he said, too full of emotion to even attempt a teasing tone.

“Of course.” Dandy darted forward, stealing another kiss that felt more like a gift. “You know I can’t let a chance to be dramatic pass by.”

Geralt hummed, his hands tracing Dandy’s face, his thumb caressing his bottom lip.

“And that’s another thing I love about you.”

“Careful,” Dandy said teasingly, pressing a kiss against Geralt’s thumb. “If you keep making such dramatic declarations yourself, I might consider putting you on stage again in the role of a lover.”

“The point of theatre is that it isn’t real,” Geralt repeated Dandy’s favourite opinion. “This is real.”

Dandy surged forward, pressing a sweet kiss against Geralt’s lips.

“It’s better than any play I could ever write.”

#reincarnation au #geraskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt #blind!jaskier #fic #witcher #witcher fic #fanfic #my writing

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thewildomega · 4 years ago

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Master list - Supernatural

Here we go! These were written so long ago and I am so sad this amazing series is ending!

Claiming Rights - From this ask Can you do a tfw plus crowley fighting over you while your in heat? Different endings added in.

Life Choice - So this is an ask I got. Reader is asexual and has to deal with the boys wanting to court her. Didn't know which version of an asexual relationship you wanted so I hope this works and you like it. As always thank you for the ask.

Did it Hurt - Set during first apocalypse.

Dean

Claiming Rights Dean ending

The Mark - From the ask Could you do a alpha!demon!dean× omega!reader. Where with the mark of Kane he's really mean so he break up with her, but he's marked her so like it's a mess. (Kinda got this idea off the song demons by Imagine Dragons ) I loved it thanks for the ask.

Unwanted Attraction - Ok! Can I request a non-con CastielxdemonReader and DeanxdemonReader where the Reader is working with the Winchesters to help take down a common foe, she and Dean have feelings for each other but they pretend to hate each other but reveal their feelings for each other when Reader almost dies on a hunt? And maybe unrequited CastielxReader where he also has feelings for the Reader and gets jealous when Dean and reader get together so he forces himself on her? Also, can I add one more thing? Like Castiel forces the Reader to like it, even if she's trying so hard not to.

Sam

Claiming Rights Sam ending

Castiel

Claiming Rights Cas ending

Only His - Hi! If you're taking requests, can I have a CastielxReader where the Reader is hunting with the Winchesters. She thinks Castiel doesn’t like her when it’s in fact the complete opposite. The Reader has a one night stand and this completely breaks Castiel’s self control. He takes her and the Reader wakes up tied to a chair in the bunker dungeon with Castiel over her. The Reader is desperately trying to close her legs while Castiel eats her out until she’s chafed and sore. Castiel’s extremely possessive and jealous and makes his mark all over her. Then he forces her to ride him until they both come. Castiel refuses to pull out and he comes inside the Reader.

Crowley

When is forever too long - My first fan fic. Starts off in the past with Fergus Macleod, he is an alpha and this is his story. Will progress into Crowley time period. I suck at summaries please read. I own nothing including Crowley...unfortunately. Only some characters are mine and story plot. Hope you enjoy. Alternate Meeting

Another Try - Okay so this is an ask I got. Reader is Crowley's daughter from when he was a human. She tries to kill him for leaving her. Let me know what ya'll think.

Nothing wrong with a tomboy - Hi, I love how you write, really. :) I wanted to ask you if you could do a Crowley x Reader where the reader is a tomboy (basically a female Dean but with Sam' sensibility XD) and Crowley is half human? He fall for her and shows it with witty comments and sarcasm. Sorry for eventual english mistakes, I'm italian. Have a nice day! :)

Claiming Rights Crowley ending

Mate or Die - Just a short drabble from a fact I learned... If a female ferret doesn't mate when they are in heat they will die.

Two is better than one - from this ask So I had this idea a while ago and tried to write it but I failed. So the reader is an alpha female And Crowley is alpha as well. Crowley wants to claim the reader but she won't obey cause she's alpha so it's like a fight for power and dominance. Thank you I loved it.

When I’m Gone - Okay so I wanted to try my hand at a song fic. Sorry if it sucks I tried. Anyway the Song is When I'm gone by Three doors down.

Needs - From the ask for a omega crowley and alpha Reader. Thanks for the ask.

Unwanted - Just a quick drabble I thought of. Sorry for any mistakes still on mobile. So basically the reader is crowley wife from when he was human. But he is not the same as she remembers...

Broken - Reader has really bad anxiety and can't take it anymore.

Something There - From this ask Hey can you do a one shot (imagine idc) where Crowley stops an alpha from claiming an omega (the reader) that didn't want to be claimed and he comforts her and idk fluff. Thank you and let me know if you want a part two.

No Choice - Reader had to do the unthinkable when they get some bad news.

Alone - Reader is pregnant with Crowley's child and goes to tell him only to feel m ore alone than ever...

No worries - So I don't know if you are still talking requests but if you are could you do one where the reader had a Stutter/speech problem and Crowley finds out about this and fluff cause their shy about it.

Silent Fear - Could you do one where the reader and Crowley are a couple and the reader is deaf. Deal and Sam kidnap her and start asking her questions and then crowley confess and saves her and held at Sam and Dean. Then a fluffy ending,please and thank you.

De- Demonized Rescue - I was wondering if you could write something where the reader saves crowley from the brothers from being De-demonized, totally a real word lol, when Sammy is doing the trails and showing him some love? Fluffy if you can and I'll love you forevers! Aww thanks for the ask!

Surprise - Hi, I love your works and everything. Could you please do a crowley and reader, where the reader it's Crowley's wife and she's pregnant. She goes into labor and they find out she's having twins instead of one baby. Okay so I did this how I thought me and my husband would have reacted to having twins. Hope you like it. Thanks for the ask.

Total Dominance - Can you do a one shot where tfw is arguing with Crowley(they are all alphas) and then Crowley fucking you on the table while biting the back of your neck in front of them to have dominance over the others. I loved it thanks for the ask!

Big Bad Wolf - Spnhalloweenwritingchallenge #35 "I could eat you up little girl"

Little Hints

Whiskey Lullaby - Was listening to whiskey lullaby by Brad Paisley and got wanted to do a small drabble with crowley.

Colder Weather - Probably going to suck. Song fic.... "Colder Weather" By Zac Brown Band

Understanding - Hello darling I love your works. Could you do Crowley x reader, where reader is Winchesters' little sister (reader is in late teens/early twenties) and she can change into a big wolf, but boys don't know about it? Plot: When Winchesters found about reader's secret on hunt (hunt went bad or something and reader saved her brothers) Winchesters are angry at her, but Crowley understand reader, he is in love with reader and he comforts reader. Angst with FLUFF. Pretty please xoxo ~ TheThirdHolmes

Can you Hear me? - Could you do a Crowley/ reader where the reader is deaf, and she staying with the winchesters in the bunker and has a major crush on crowley. While crowley feels the same but doesn't knows the reader is deaf and thinks she is ignoring him, but the boys point out that she is deaf and he learns sign language to ask her out and she says yes.

Mine Now - 1.Hello Honey it's me again. I have one idea for ff and I wonder if you could write it. So alpha!Crowleyxomega!reader, plot: reader's father made deal with Crowley, but instead of his soul, he sold his sixteen/seventeen years old daughter. He takes her to Hell, she becomes his maid. Smut and fluff follow. What do you think about it? ;) 2. Hey do you think you could write one where Crowley makes a deal with the reader for something sad.. sorry I'm on my period...thanks.

Chained Alpha - Alpha crowley is locked up in the winchesters dudgeon and he goes into a rut, and the reader is the only omega that can help him out. He chained up so he cant touch himself so the reader has complete control over him.

Breath - Fosse grim According to Scandinavian mythology, Fosse grim was a water spirit that played enchanted songs on the violin, luring women and children to drown in lakes and streams.

Soulmate - Could you do a story where the reader is the reincarnation of Crowley's soul mate and she died not too long after Crowley has dragged too hell. Now the reader is working with the boy's and Crowley is some what shocked and tries too win her over well dealing with the boy's being over protective of her and at the end they end up together. Super fluffy ending, please and thank you.

#supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural #crowley x reader #crowley fanfiction #dean winchester #dean x reader #sam winchester #sam x reader #castiel #castiel x reader #Crowley #supernatural masterlist

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bangtan-madi · 5 years ago

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All Of Our Lifetimes — Intro: Crimson Fountain

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.8k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 0 / 10

Warnings — murder, death, lots of blood, the intro is pretty much the darkest of the entire series so if you make it through this you should be good

A/N — So I know my WIP List says this series wouldn’t start going up until late April, but I had a spark of inspo way earlier than I thought. I wrote it and loved it, so the intro is going up before the outline is even done! Just to get you a ‘lil taste of what’s to come ;)

— Next

With a grip of steel, Taehyung drags you through the darkened spaces of the museum. Footsteps echo through the adjacent hallways, and your heart pounds irregularly to the beat. Like war-drums announcing the start of a battle, your ears pulse with hot and heavy blood. You should be petrified, you should be a terrified mess, but all your mind focuses on is the carnage lying at the feet of Winged Victory.

She’s dead, you think to yourself. Your breath burns inside your lungs, like thick steam, as you both tear past the dimly lit corridors on your desperate way towards the exit. You talked to the woman ten minutes ago, and now she’s dead.

Taehyung glances over his shoulder, dark brown eyes showing surprising calm and control. The way he pulls you close to him, the way he shelters you as you run for your lives, it’s not out of fear. Or, at least, not entirely. His movements are calculated, precise, and methodical. Even in the chaos, he is in control.

And then it hits you: this isn’t the first time either of you has run for your lives. Pieces of your lifetimes come back, trickling in like raindrops down a window. It's taken you this long to find each other, to win each other over, to get back what time has taken. The last thing you want to do is lose it all over again.

Taehyung pulls you with him, taking cover behind a wide column. Before you have a chance to ask why you've stopped, Taehyung puts a slender finger to his lips. His mocha eyes shift to you in a warning manner.

Don’t make a sound. Not one.

You can see the words both in his gesture and glance. Shutting your mouth, you nod once.

Your hand tightens around his as another set of footsteps thunders down the hall, breaking into the open space. Though moving quickly, they move with purpose and passion. The man—no, the murderer—you saw standing over the artist's body still searches for you both.

“I know you’re here, Kim!” A gruff voice with a foreign lilt fills the void. “You aren’t doing yourself any favors by running. I think you know that.”

Your eyes shut tightly as your breath catches in your throat. The murderer’s voice reverberates across the marble floors and granite pillars, hitting your ears like a shockwave. The terrifying truth is that this man’s identity is a mystery, as is why he killed the artist or why he wants to hurt Taehyung.

You remember the woman's name clearly: Emilia Popescu. She was a friend of Taehyung's. Whatever the reason for her brutal demise, you can’t fathom it. A day that started with the love of your life in a city you now call home has ended with the grisly image of a corpse, one that will forever be burned in your mind.

He killed Emilia. And now he’s coming for you.

Taehyung brings your attention back to him as he peers around the room. His eyes move from one exit to the next. From where you're crouched behind the pillar, there aren’t many options for escape. The rear is the best option, the museum's Van Gogh Hall from where you came; however, running in that direction would put your backs to the murderer, giving him a perfect target. The only other way out is a large doorway to the right. It leads to a long hallway, which connects to the building's emergency exit. Again, going that way might as well be suicide; you’d have to run right in front of the mad-man.

The room is quiet now. Only the hefty footsteps beyond your hiding spot remain. Not even the museum's usual occupants remain; in the wee hours of a Sunday evening, the patrons and employees have long since left. It’s the day before the Vernal Equinox, 1995. The only people supposed to be inside at this hour were Emilia, Taehyung, and you.

Taehyung taps a finger on the back of your hand. When you turn his way, he gestures with a jerk of his chin to the wall behind you. At first, you don’t see what he wants to show you. It’s only when you look closer that you see it. Along the walls are portraits, but it’s not the pictures that your lover is interested in: it’s the glassy surface covering them. If you focus, the glass acts as a reflection, and from here, you can easily make out the man stalking you.

The murderer moves from one side of the room to the other, avoiding the ferns that line the spherical fountain’s edge. Though his movements are cautious, you doubt that they’re that way because of you and Taehyung. This murderer isn’t someone that fears anything. He did not hesitate to kill Emilia, and he won’t hesitate in doing the same to you. You doubt he’s even a man at all, only a beast playing with his prey, feeding on your terror.

He is a wolf enjoying the hunt.

Your brunet companion leans down to your level, his hand gripping your shoulder. His resolute expression gives you a smidge of hope that you might just survive this night. However, that calm lasts only a second. You whimper softly at the sound of a collision behind. The murderer crashes something into a nearby column. While you're grateful that it wasn’t yours, every noise he makes, even his footsteps, brings you closer to panic. Every sound is like a punch in the stomach. He wants you to know how close he is to killing you both.

The column takes another hit, and the ceiling overhead trembles. While most of the museum is made of concrete and brick, with some expensive granite and marble thrown in, this particular ceiling is entirely made of glass. It reveals a beautiful night sky, one that might make you stop in wonder on another night. The panels shimmer, coming all to close to shattering. Whatever this man is doing to the column, he’s breaking the structural integrity of the room. Anything more than another hit or two could send you all into a thunderstorm of glass shards.

“I will bury us all, Kim!” the murderer shouts. Another hit, and then another. The glass starts to scream and crack. “You know I will!”

Taehyung's grip on your shoulder tightens, and his lips close in on your ear. His next words, though a whisper, are sure and strong. “When I tell you to run, go for the exit behind us. Don’t look back, sweetheart. Don’t stop until you get to the street. Wait for me there, but stay out of sight.”

“What are you going to do?”

Taehyung's hand moves towards his hip, gripping something metallic and sleek under his coat. His wedding bang glints in the dim light, and you realize he's armed.

“I’m going to make sure he doesn’t follow us,” he replies with a growl. “I’ll lead him away. Do as I say, and we’ll be just fine. I’ll find you.”

Before he leaves, you grip his hand and make him turn back towards you. “And what if you don’t?”

His features stiffen, almost as if his face is made of stone. He pulls the weapon from his pants and holds it skillfully. “Then go to the police. Tell them what happened.” To break the intensity, he flashes a quick, boxy smile. “But don’t worry. I’ll be there."

Your grip on his wrist tightens, and your voice quivers. "I just got you back, Tae. I just found you, after all these years. I—Please, don't make me lose you again."

Taehyung's brown eyes soften, and he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. His dark curls hang in front of his eyes, but you know they're locked only on you. The connection you feel with him goes far beyond words or looks or touches.

What you have together crosses lifetimes.

"We prepared for this," he murmurs, hot breath dusting your teary cheeks. "We knew this was coming. I don't regret a single moment I spent with you, [Y/n], and I'm sorry I fought you all these months. I should have believed you when you told me what we were. You found me. You saved me. Now let me save you."

"I don't want you to save me," you cry over the sound of the glass shaking above your heads. "I just want you safe—!"

Taehyung shuts you up with a fiery kiss, forcing his mouth against yours with a near brutal intensity. Your hands move through his hair, the force of his lips forcing your back against the column. A tug on your lower lip, a slide of a tongue across the same, a whisper of, "I love you more every lifetime."

It ends far faster than it should, nearly as swiftly as it begins. Taehyung pulls away and shoves you in the direction of the escape while jumping out to shield you. He turns to look over his shoulder, ensuring that your shaky legs are in fact moving.

"Go!”

Before you can protest the terrible idea again, Taehyung turns back towards the murderer and fires multiple rounds. In the reflection of the portraits, you see his attention shift immediately to your husband. Taehyung moves speedily, eyes locked on his target. He continues to fire, forcing the mad-man to take shelter behind the fountain. As he ducks for cover, Taehyung changes out the used cartridge for a full one.

The murderer fires again, and Taehyung dodges the blasts with relative ease. As he rolls out of the line of fire, he lets another set of shots rain towards him. One of them grazes the mad-man's shoulder, but he doesn’t make a sound or expression of pain. He twists out of the way, throwing himself onto the ground to dodge. When he stands again, bullets erupt from his gun.

Taehyung attempts to run, but as he ducks out of the way, one of the bullets punctures his left shoulder. With an agonizing shriek, his right hand cradles his wound.

With a sudden burst of bravery, you start to move from your hiding place, wanting desperately to help him. When your husband sees you, he thrusts his hand up to stop you.

“Go!” he mouths. The murderer fires several rounds up into the sky. The glass ceiling shatters, and thousands of tiny shards start to rain.

When you don’t move immediately, Taehyung screams the word as forcefully as he can: “Run!”

The next ten seconds are a blur, stretched out into what feels like several minutes. Taehyung turns his weapon back to the murderer, but he dodges the first two rounds your husband lets off. His swift feet take him out of the line of fire. As he moves, he charges Taehyung, swinging a handful of glass shards in the Korean's direction. They make an impact, creating several gashes across the exposed skin on Taehyung's face, arms, and hands.

Flinching in pain, Taehyung fires another pair of rounds as he stumbles back into the fountain. He lands on his hands and knees, crimson blood trickling into the water.

In the split second between the two shots, the murderer takes aim. One of the bullets lands on the murderer's shoulder, while the other cuts straight into his neck. Blood pours profusely from his wounds, causing him to falter and his armed hand to lower.

You take that opportunity and make a mad dash for your lover. He's injured and vulnerable. If you were to do as he said, to leave him alone to fight off this intruder, he will die. There's not a doubt in your mind.

As you grab Taehyung's arm and begin pulling him to his feet, your lover's terrified eyes flicker up to yours.

You see the brown irises darken before you hear the shot. Taehyung's gun falls to the ground with a clank, hitting the edge of the fountain before scuttling away. His breath catches, and blood pours from the wound in his chest.

He tumbles over. You break from your stunned stupor and lunge to catch him. Both of you collapse into the fountain, water soaking your clothing. You cradle him close, arms around his shoulders. He stares up at you, those same brown eyes both wide and terrified. His chest spasms erratically as breath and blood fight to fill his lungs.

Tears burn your eyes as you clutch him closer, pressing your hands over the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

“No! No, hold on, Tae!” You start speaking to him in his native tongue, hoping that, somehow, this will be the magic spell that heals him.

Another shot rings through the halls, this one coming mere seconds after the last. The metal tears through your abdomen, causing you to fall on your side beside Taehyung. Your head crashes against the rim of the fountain.

"[Y—Y/n]!" Taehyung chokes, blood pouring from his torso and mouth.

The murderer hesitantly lifts himself off the floor, cradling his injuries with care. Crimson covers his entire body, and from his swaying movements, you can tell he's lost a lot of it. The mask he's worn the entire time is partially falling apart, revealing the heavyset eyes of a hunter.

He's barely able to stumble forward and point his weapon at the two of you, intending to finish you off.

"Time to die, you unnatural things."

Though fuzzy and confused, you reach for the weapon Taehyung dropped in the scuffle. You aim and pull the trigger with ease, praying to god that at least one of your last three bullets hits a vital region.

One misses. One hits his ribcage. One tears through his hand, blasting the gun to pieces and tearing several of his fingers off.

The murderer lets out an ear-piercing scream and falls back, trembling legs taking him towards the exit. Sirens blare in the distance. The police are closing in. The last thought you spare him is one of vengeance, of a hopeful capture, of justice served.

The gun falls from your fingers, returning to the water where you retrieved it. You fight against the urge to close your eyes, still dazed from the knock to the head. Turning to the side, you see Taehyung scooting over towards you. His uninjured arm is dragging his body the meter's distance between you.

Reaching out, your hand grasps his. You bring each other closer to the other as blood pours from your wounds and further infuses the water with a garnet hue. Taehyung's fingers are cold and shaky, just as yours are pale. All you can do is loop your fingers around his, making one small connection as the whole world falls apart around you.

Taehyung moves his hand to your head. With a small smile, he brushes your messy, damp hair from your eyes. They close on their own accord, and you lean into his hand. You feel the ghost of death sneaking up on you once again, and from the way Taehyung's breath is slowing and the amount of blood filling the water, you know it won't be long now. It seems like you'd just found each other again, after all these years of him not remembering. It was your curse to find him and make him remember, and now you're going to lose him all over again.

Whatever happens after this, you've found each other again. If that's the only good thing that survives today, you're okay with that.

You bring your forehead against his, the last breaths of this lifetime slipping into your lungs. Forcing your eyes to open once more, you offer a semblance of a smile to the childlike fear you see on your husband's face.

"Come—Come find me," you sputter, voice barely above a whisper. "It’s your turn. In the next one: meet me there."

Taehyung nods once, barely moving his head. The miracle that you prayed for, the one you begged for, never happens. Taehyung chokes on his own blood for another few seconds, and his hands clasp yours tightly. In that moment, there is no way to tell who is more petrified: him or you.

Taehyung opens his mouth slightly, as if trying to say something, but he can’t find the words. A heart-wrenching, soul-crushing moment passes. His chocolate eyes fog over. His chest stops heaving. His slender hand falls from yours.

If you had enough life left in you, you would have whimpered and cried and screamed. Instead, you allow your eyes to close on this life, your final breath escaping with those same words.

A request. An order. A promise.

"Find me."

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biglittlesshop · 4 years ago

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Yesterday was a busy day of meetings and airplane travel for peter and connor but last night peter took some time to share his thoughts on the passing of the great christopher lee christopher lee was the tallest actor I ever knew he was also by far the most literate when we first met in a los angeles studio where he was recording his lines as king haggard in the last unicorn he had just recorded haggard’s speech about his first sight of unicorns and I mentioned that it was probably my favorite speech in the book he immediately wanted to know well did I do it properly we can always redo it right here of course he’d handled the lines perfectly but writers and writers’ opinions about their work mattered intensely to christopher that same afternoon we discovered that between the two of us we we could call to mind just about all the lines of g k chesterton’s poem the rolling english road we also discovered a mutual need to hit the men’s room and my son dan in his mid teens at the time still has a very clear memory of christopher simultaneously peeing while declaiming in that voice which no one could ever keep from imitating after fifteen minutes with him before the roman came to rye or out to severn strode the rolling english drunkard made the rolling english road a reeling road a rolling road that rambled round the shire and after him the parson ran the sexton and the squire I leave it to the reader to imagine that voice in the tiled acoustics of a hollywood bathroom we met a second time in munich where the last unicorn was being dubbed into german most of my memories of that time and of chris lee have to do with books and authors he had known both j r r tolkien and a writer who mattered more to me t h white we had a long ongoing argument in munich about a chapter of the sword in the stone that appears in the english edition of the book but not in the american one he turned out to be right he usually was he never failed to mention the last unicorn as one of his very favorite books and as one of the movies he was most proud of having made indeed he left my whopperjawed as mark twain would have put it when we were being interviewed together on austrian television and he announced oh yes I simply couldn’t resist a chance to play king haggard one more time even in another language after all and he looked straight into the camera it’s the closest they’ll ever let me get to playing king lear the camera swung toward me to catch my stunned reaction and chris looked across the studio at me and winked but my most vivid memory chilling as it remains to this day has to do with the day that I and michael chase walker associate producer of the last unicorn and the one who really got the film made in the first place somehow found our way out to dachau I can’t now recall how we managed it considering that neither one of us spoke german and that you had to take both a subway and a bus to get there from the hotel where the crew were staying but we got there somehow and spent a good half of the day roaming with other tourists around a legendary concentration camp peering blindly into the huge crematoriums but staring with equal horror and fascination at the endless rows of filing cabinets containing every record of every human being who was ever imprisoned starved gassed or simply worked to death in this place michael and I grew quieter and quieter that afternoon until by the time we started back to munich we weren’t speaking at all I think we both felt that we might say anything in words again the first person we met in the hotel lobby was christopher he took one look at us and announced you’ve been to dachau we nodded without answering chris strode toward us looked all the way down from his six foot five inch altitude lowered his voice and inquired still smells doesn’t it with the end of world war ii christopher as a member of the special forces and whose five or six languages included fluent german had been assigned to hunt down and interrogate nazi war crminals and had been present at the liberation of dachau and yes the smell of death had undoubtedly faded somewhat since 1945 but it was still as real as michael and me wandering dazedly between the ovens and the filing system we just didn’t know what it was but christopher did and i’d know it again I never saw him again after munich though we spoke on the telephone a few times on the last occasion when I had called to wish him a happy 90th birthday I remember him assuring me that if by the time you come to make your live action version of your movie I have passed on do not let it concern you I have risen from the dead several times I know how it’s done he worked almost to the last as the real artists of every kind do they work to be working because that’s what they do and they die when they stop I always regarded him as the last of the great 19th century actors that bravura larger than life style went with him no modern rada trained performer would ever attempt it today nor should they it would inevitably come out parody however earnestly meant yet there was always more to christopher lee as an actor than dracula or the mummy or saruman or sherlock holmes for that matter though he was very proud of having played not only both holmes and watson but sherlock’s brother mycroft as well lord summerisle of the original the wicker man probably his favorite of his own movies is most likely closer to chris’s dark benignity than any other role he ever inhabited I believe this because lord summerisle sings a surprising amount in that movie and chris passionately loved singing if there is any such thing as an afterlife or reincarnation I truly hope no believe that christopher lee will return as a wagnerian opera singer if he hadn’t been considered too old in his 30s to be accepted for formal vocal training he might have been in his own eyes at least a happier more fulfilled man but we would have been deeply poorer for it and never have known See Other related 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littlemisssquiggles · 5 years ago

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I just watched the last episode of RWBY Volume 7 and while I must say that I am pleased on how they wrapped that up (despite the unnecessary overuse of in-episode cliffhangers), I also have this big question in my head... Am I the only one who thinks Neo WILL backstab Cinder? She didn't seem pleased about the lack of attention from Miss Fall after she got the Relic for her. That being said... (1/2)

Considering Neo's improvement in her illusion / shapeshifting ability, it would be a cool twist if we, the audience, wouldn't notice that Cinder was backstabbed by Neo at first (nor would anyone within the RWBYverse) because Neo assumes her appearance. Maybe even gets good enough to be able to give an illusion of Cinder's voice. I doubt it will happen, but it would be kinda cool. (2/2)

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

Am I the only one who thinks Neo WILL backstab Cinder?

Nah you’re not alone in that Seaberry. Similar toyou, this squiggle meister is hopingthat Neo ends up betraying Cinder andsomehow helping our heroes in some way. Whether it’s through her returningthe Relic of Knowledge that she originally stole from JNPR 2.0 to our heroes(so that Ruby may use the final question to ask Jinn on who can stop Salem orsomething along those lines) or through some other kind of redeeming feat, apart of me likes the thought of Neo becoming a good guy and actually working withour heroes to stop Salem after realizing the danger she had walked into withbecoming Cinder’s lackey.

I do not think that Neo will remain loyal toCinder for very long. Especially after noticing her unrewarding reaction toCinder’s lack of appreciation of her succeeding in claiming the lamp. Rememberhow Torchwick would usually praise Neo for a job well done? I think that’s whatNeo was expecting from Cinder. She was probably looking to her to be just likeRoman. Right now, I feel as if Cinder has like two strikes to her name withNeo. I have a feeling that something will happen between Neo and Cinder for herto finally realize that she had made a mistake with Cinder which wouldultimately lead to her double crossing her.

I even had this small idea that Cinder would useNeo to track and hunt down Oscar (and Oz). Maybe it’s something where justacquiring the Lamp of Knowledge wasn’t enough to get Cinder back on good termswith her immortal mentor. Remember how back in V4, Salem kept asking Cinderrepeatedly on whether or not she succeeded in killing Ozpin? It was somethingthat Cinder literally had to voice herself in spite of her injuries. Yet herewe are, seasons later and Oz in still alive---now reincarnated inside Oscar.

What if…Salem ends up holding a grudge against Cinderfor that too; implying that she had failed her twice over by failing to killOzpin once and for all? Let’s say…fora second time, Salem tasks Cinder with killing Oz’s new successor meaningOscar. However rather than handling it herself, Cinder tasks Neo with killingOscar herself while Cinder once again goes off on her own hunt in pursuit ofPenny for the Winter Maiden magic (which Salem will need anyways if she wantedto claim the Relic of Creation for herself).

So for a second time, Neo is used to go apprehendOscar on Cinder’s behalf, only this time she is meant to kill him. However,unbeknownst to Cinder, Neo winds up betraying her by warning Oscar of herschemes. Let’s say she even returns the Relic of Knowledge to Oscar as a signthat she was on his side, trying to help him.

While I doubt something like that would happen, apart of me still wishes to hold out for an original theory I had for Neo. In aprevious musing, I pegged Neo as beingthe General Jinjur in Oscar’s Oz story. In some way, I still see her as General Jinjur. All the more reason whyI’d like to see Neo become a “good girl”in the end.

Heck, there’s even that part of me that’s rootingfor Neo to find her place with RobynHill, becoming one of her Happy Huntresses. I think Neo would surprisingly make a great as a Happy Huntress and I knowfor a fact that under Robyn’s leadership, she’ll definitely be appreciated byher Robyn and her peers with her efforts put toward ensuring a better causethan being a henchman for a villain.

Since my Neo becoming the Winter Maiden andpilfering the Relic of Creation headcanon isn’t going to become a thing, my nextbest bet is Neo being redeemed---doublecrossing Cinder and returning the Relic of Knowledge to our heroes ultimatelyleading to her joining the Happy Huntresses. That’s my hope for Neo.

As for your hunch about her taking Cinder’splace….er…sorry Seaberry but this squiggle meister isn’t a fan of thatheadcanon. Ironically enough, I had a reverse version of that where Cinderended up killing Neo and stealing her form after finally giving into her Grimmside.

The idea I had was that Cinder would’ve sufferedyet another humiliating defeat; resulting in her losing the Fall Maiden magicafter Oscar relinquished her of her powers. After falling yet again, Cinderwould lose control of her Grimm side leading to her finally letting go of herhuman side and transforming into a full on Grimmoire---halfGrimm, half human hybrid.

The concept I had was that Neopolitan would’ve been Cinder’s first victim as a Grimmoire with Cinder devouring Neo and taking herface as her own. That was the idea I had as part of my hunch of Cinderbecoming the Red Queen---ultimatelyreplacing Salem as the new Leader of the Grimm after she had been defeated and “purified” through the combined power ofOscar’s magic and Ruby’s Silver Eyes.

I still like my “Red Queen” Cinder Fall headcanon. However I’m not sure if that’llcome to fruition at all since I’m still waiting to see what the CRWBY Writersdo with Cinder. I’m not even certain if she’ll survive for another season. I’mwondering if V8 could potentially be Cinder’s final curtain call. Then again,who knows? Only time will tell. For now, I’m going to stick to my own hunchesfor both Cinder and Neo’s prospective endgames.

~LittleMissSquiggles(2020)

#squiggles answers: rwby #cinder fall #rwby neopolitan #oscar pine #neopolitan #rwby theories #rwby volume 8 theories #seaberry-siren #squiggles answers

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rwby-redux · 4 years ago

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Preface

RWBY is the breakthrough anime web series created by the late Monty Oum of Rooster Teeth. Originally teased on November 5th, 2012, and officially debuted July 18th, 2013, the series follows the journeys of four young women enrolled in an academy that trains monster-slaying warriors known as Huntsmen. Set in the fictional world of Remnant, the story initially focuses on the surface-level plot of fighting against humanity’s ancient adversary, the ever-present Creatures of Grimm; over time, it becomes apparent that things aren’t what they seem, as the cast slowly begins to connect a string of heists committed by a criminal syndicate with the violent acts of a terrorist cell. The series is aired weekly on Rooster Teeth’s website, with its main arcs spanning 12 – 16 episodes per volume. In the years following the show’s initial release, RWBY has spawned numerous merchandise and related media, including two spin-off shows, multiple side-stories published as mangas, two standalone books, three mobile games, a behind-the-scenes artbook, and OSTs for every volume to date.

As of Volume 7 there are 98 episodes in total with a collective runtime of 18:52:00, or approximately 1,132 minutes, with more episodes and side content underway.

At best, they’re visually interesting; at worst, they’re disappointing.

Let me take a second to backtrack before the lynch mob starts to sharpen its pitchforks. The series deserves much of the praise that it’s gotten. RWBY was the first American-produced anime to be released in Japan (and if you’re a fan of anime, you know how insane those words sound). The 3D models and animation from Volume 4 onward are breathtakingly stunning, and even before the show made the leap from Poser to Maya, the fight sequences managed to be equally creative and entertaining. The show was nominated for and received multiple Streamy Awards, and was awarded Best Animated Series by the International Academy of Web Television. The Volume 1 soundtrack reached number one on iTunes, beating out the soundtrack for The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. Such is RWBY’s (and Rooster Teeth’s) reputation that it managed to attract the attention of, and later bring on, industry veterans and vocal legends such as Jen Taylor, Josh Grelle, and Aaron Dismuke.

That’s to say nothing of the fandom this franchise has amassed, of kids, teenagers, and young adults alike. RWBY has generated dozens of forums dedicated to fanfiction, fanart, and roleplaying. Thousands of people the world over have bonded over this show, fans from all walks of life. They’re passionate about this series. The fact that I’m writing this post is a testimony of that. If I didn’t care about RWBY, I wouldn’t be sitting on my couch at 3 AM, hunched over my laptop in my pajamas.

If RWBY is so good (or occasionally threatens to become good), you might be wondering, why, then, does this blog exist?

Well, because…when you stop and look at it critically, it actually kind of sucks.

Despite initially being written by a three-man team, the series is full of inconsistencies and an underdeveloped cast. The characters, especially from Volumes 1 — 3, are full of one-dimensional stereotypes whose contributions to the story amount to a three-word summary: “The School Bully,” “The Wacky Professors,” “The Racist Cop,” “The Cutthroat Bitch,” “The Anime Waifu,” “The Audience Surrogate,” “Discount Elle Woods,” and so on. Fundamental elements of the story, like Aura, Semblance, and Dust, are either poorly-explained or not explained at all, and the limitations of those core concepts can change at a moment’s notice to suit the needs of the plot. The primary antagonist of the first three volumes is universally hated by the fandom for having no discernible motivations beyond being “ambitious and power-hungry,” and having a personality that consists exclusively of irritating smug. The show-writers, despite repeatedly promising queer representation, have failed to make even one of their ten central protagonists queer. This isn’t touching upon the fact that the first openly-gay character on the show was an antagonist, or that the next two were side-characters who were relevant to the plot for all of seven episodes, before vanishing from the story entirely. The two leads that are currently being hyped as our first queer main-cast members have only been repeatedly teased, with said characters never once uttering the words, “I’m bi,” “I date women,” “I’m not straight”—nothing but narrative subtext and playful winks from the VAs whenever a fan asks if they’re queer. Subplots end up having no pay-off or get entirely forgotten mid-volume. The story is so protagonist-biased that the heroes are frequently able to get away with being hypocritical, or committing criminal acts because “it was the right thing to do,” with their POV framed as an infallible “fuck you, got mine” verbal gut-punch to the audience (while other characters in the show, who often make the exact same calls as the heroes, are ridiculed by the show and the fandom). Whenever the story isn’t spray-painting stolen cars and selling them to their original owners, it manages to clumsily handle allegories for real-world issues such as systemic racism, mental illness, abuse dynamics/victim survivorship, and gray morality. The worldbuilding is absent from the main show and has to be supplemented through RWBY’s spin-off series World of Remnant. The story’s setting feels flat and lifeless at times because the “cultures” of this world are never established.

The list goes on and on.

So if this show has so many flaws, why are we still having this conversation?

Because I’m captivated by the untapped potential of this world. When you brush away all of the detritus, you can see the wealth of raw material buried beneath. This is a world where the gods have forsaken their creations, with one having even deliberately created the monsters that hunt humanity. The two characters who are central to the history of this world are tragic figures, one cursed with immortality as a punishment for demanding that the gods revise the first draft, and do away with needless death; and the other, cursed to ceaselessly reincarnate into the minds and bodies of like-minded souls, waging a war of attrition against a person warped beyond recognition by the capricious spite of the gods. This is a world of forgotten magic, of shifting allegiances, of characters embarking on personal journeys and unearthing deadly secrets. It’s a story of people from all walks of life learning to cooperate and work together, forging friendships and alliances in order to face the challenges that lie ahead.

It could easily have the bones of an epic fantasy series as long as it remembers to drink its milk.

RWBY’s issues aren’t insurmountable. Most of them are the byproduct of the series’ blind adherence to “rule of cool,” the motto that practically codified the beginning of the show. From Volume 4 onward, the series took a radical shift in tone that tried to be “more mature,” and only succeeded in making the earlier episodes absurd in hindsight. Why, in Volume 6, are the characters concerned about civilian endangerment, when in Volume 2 they happily pursued a giant mech in a highway car-chase scene that would’ve caused untold collateral damage and civilian death? This change in storytelling created a thematic disparity that reoccurs time and time again, retroactively emphasizing just how inconsistent the worldbuilding and storytelling are.

It tried to be Avatar: The Last Airbender, and what we’re left with instead is Game of Thrones Season 8.

Now, I’m not using this blog as a platform to damn Monty Oum (or claim to be a better creator than him). But it’s important to address the flaws in his story, and to acknowledge that his passing doesn’t make RWBY somehow sacrosanct or immune to constructive criticism. RWBY has flaws, ranging from nitpicky to potentially capable of causing real-world harm (in the case of the aforementioned queerbaiting and racism analogies). I’m a firm believer that art doesn’t exist in a vacuum; art is informed by our beliefs just as much as art informs our beliefs. We can still respect and admire the potential RWBY has to offer, while being mindful of where it needs to improve.

That’s where this blog comes in.

At the end of the day, the RWBY Redux exists as a thought experiment. I’m writing it chiefly to entertain worldbuilding ideas and headcanons I’ve spent years musing on. I’m not asking readers to agree with any of my numerous stances, nor am I going to shy away from other fans’ criticism as I hammer this project out. With a little TLC, perhaps I’ll manage to create something that manages to be more complex than its source material. And if you choose to follow along with my endeavors, hopefully you’ll find this project equal parts engaging and entertaining.

Wish me luck.

#preface #deconstruction #writing

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sunsetscurving · 5 years ago

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CHASING STARS

Ch. 8

ao3 link

In a world where reincarnation is common and expected, people stopped to care for a reason or how many times they already lived – they have no memory of their past life anymore.

But Lucas Lallemant can feel that this isn’t his first life, some shreds of his former life still present in his new one. He has this feeling that something from his past life tied him so much to it that he has to find it again in his new life.

Something. Or someone.

Eliott slowly closed the door behind him as he entered his room, leaning against the door and closing his eyes for a second, a big sigh escaping his mouth.

They nearly kissed.

He could’ve seen that Lucas wanted it, could’ve seen it in the way his eyes seemed to be alive with light, in the way his lips parted and in the way an impression of longing had been lingering on his face the whole time.

And Eliott just kept touching his messy hair which was also defying gravity in this life. 21 years ago, Eliott fell in love with Lucas when he spotted him on the hallway of their college, running his fingers through his hair while biting his lips and working on some kind of project for his courses. Since this very faithful moment, he had been in love with Lucas’ messy hair and the way it also seemed to move in his eyes, making him look like some kind of puppy.

The attraction he felt towards Lucas in that moment when he was standing in front of him, the helmet in his hand with his hair messier than usual, was unbelievable.

But Eliott was afraid.

He was afraid of where all of this would led and he was afraid that he would disappoint Lucas, that he would fail like he did before. Lucas deserved only the best life possible and right now, where Eliott was so fucking close to get back together with the love of his life, he didn’t know if this was the right way to go.

A smile appeared on Eliott’s lips nevertheless as another thought came to the surface of his mind.

Because Lucas wanted it.

Lucas wanted to be with him, to kiss him, to touch him. And all of that made Eliott’s head spin with all the possibilities lying ahead of him.

And wasn’t this about Lucas and his decisions after all? Shouldn’t Eliott stop being so selfish, only thinking about what he wants and start to think about what Lucas wants?

Before he could even continue to think about all of this, his phone vibrated, announcing a new incoming message. Eliott walked over to his bed, plopping himself down on it and letting his gaze wander over all the paintings and drawings which where connected to another part of his immortal life. His gaze lingered on one painting which showed Lucas asleep and a smile creeped onto Eliott’s lips. He always admired how beautiful Lucas looked asleep.

When he died, he also looked like this.

The smile disappeared as fast as it came, his thoughts getting darker and darker again.

Before Eliott could lost himself in regret and pain, he opened the message and found himself smiling yet again.

This day is an emotional rollercoaster.

lucallemant: hey stranger

This started to get an insider between the two of them, huh? Eliott smirked and started to type an answer.

srodulv: hey biker boy, got home safely?

lucallemant: yup, without hurting a pole ;)

Eliott chuckled to himself, leaning back on the bed and holding the phone up over his face.

srodulv: the poles from this world are not safe anymore when you’re on the street

lucallemant: I’m their biggest nightmare

srodulv: should I be scared now?

lucallemant: if you’re a pole, then yes

Eliott huffed a laugh.

lucallemant: and you should also be scared of you decline my invitation

Eliott froze with his childish laugh, frowning at the message of Lucas.

srodulv: now I’m curious, what invitation?

lucallemant: the invitation to the party from my dad for tomorrow night

The phone which Eliott was still holding above himself crashed into his face.

Did he just—

Eliott picked up the phone, rubbing over his face while doing so and kept staring at the message from Lucas.

srodulv: are you fucking kidding me?

lucallemant: why should I?

Because you just asked me out for some fucking kind of date thing where your parents will be too?

srodulv: idk, I just didn’t expect something like this

lucallemant: it’s not the usual kind of party tho, everyone will come in suit and tie and when the formalities are over, the adults will drink even more than the teenagers

so it’s basically a very noble party with good alcohol for free

and I thought that you would maybe like to join me and my friends

idk maybe it was a dumb idea

Eliott couldn’t believe all of this. Lucas really just invited him to one of the big parties which were usually thrown by his dad once in a month. Only really special people were invited to this and Lucas accordingly thought of Eliott as special because otherwise he wouldn’t invite him.

lucallemant: eliott?

Eliott didn’t even realize how long he had been staring at the opposite wall, thinking and thinking, one thought following the other. He nearly jumped as the phone in his hand vibrated again.

srodulv: yeah, I’m here

lucallemant: you can also just tell me if you don’t wanna come

srodulv: no, sorry, I was just overwhelmed by your invitation

lucallemant: so, you’ll come?

Eliott had to smile as he typed in his answer. It was apparently important for Lucas that Eliott came and he was very flattered by that.

srodulv: how could I say no to my biker boy?

lucallemant: ;)

srodulv: but only if your friends won’t kill me right away

lucallemant: I’ll tell them to wait till you are drunk

srodulv: merci

lucallemant: the least I could do

see you tomorrow, stranger

srodulv: good night biker boy

Was this really happening? Would he really go on a party where only Lucas and his friends and some random people would be? Would he really have the chance to do a fucking slow dance with the love of his life? Would the fate really shine upon him this much? Would he really see Lucas in a suit with a tie, looking absolutely drop-dead beautiful?

He had to believe it.

And he had to get a fucking suit really, really quick.

He was jumping up from the bed, a grin still very present on his face as the door slammed against the wall while he was running out onto the hallway of their apartment.

“IDRISS!”

The whole house and every person passing by on the street were surely hearing Eliott now but he couldn’t care less. There were things who needed his attention more than some random people who thought him crazy. And maybe he was crazy after all: crazy in love.

“Fuck, dude, where are you?”

Eliott never realized that their apartment was that big. But maybe it was just supported by the fact that he couldn’t wait to tell Idriss about it all.

“What the fuck, man, did you burn down the kitchen again?”

“It was one fucking time, okay?”

Idriss was coming around the corner now, looking really sleepily while yawning quietly. He apparently just took a nap and Eliott woke him up but as said before: Eliott couldn’t care less. And he also couldn’t hide the grin on his lips.

“Oh, did I woke the princess?”

“Fucking hell, shut up”, said Idriss but a smile tugged onto his lips nevertheless.

“So, why did you woke me from my beautiful nap?”

And now, Eliott couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“Okay, so I had a date with Lucas and we were at the coffee shop around the corner and Lucas was just about to tell me what he wanted but I just literally screamed into his face what he usually took, in his former life, and it was still right and he was confused and I wanted to slap myself and then he took me home on his bike and holy fuck, this boy looks so hot and then I nearly kissed him but I couldn’t or I didn’t want to or, I don’t know, it just didn’t happen and I was afraid that Lucas thought I would reject him and now he messaged me and invited me for a party from his dad for tomorrow and I need a suit and a tie and oh my god, imagine Lucas with a suit, I mean—”

“ELIOTT!”

Eliott was out of breath by now, the need to get all of this out, to just tell someone about what happened, had been so overwhelming that the words didn’t stop spilling out from his mouth.

“Okay so”, said Idriss and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second to gather all his thoughts and to process everything he heard, “You nearly kissed Lucas?”

“Yes.”

“And… you didn’t do it in the end? Although you had been waiting for this moment 19 fucking years?”

“Y-Yes.”

Eliott threw his hands in the air now, suddenly feeling helpless and insecure again. Idriss also thought that he did the wrong thing and the opinion from his friend meant a lot to him. And now here he was, judging him for not taking that step. But something stopped him, Eliott didn’t even know what it was. Maybe it was some higher force or…

“I don’t know, man… It just didn’t feel right, you know? When I kiss him, it should be special and wonderful and perfect and…”

“Maybe this was the perfect moment for him.”

It’s not about you, Eliott, it’s about him.

“Stop making me feel even worse, Idriss”, said Eliott now before he could think more about the missed chance which will maybe probably not come back again, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “And however: It is over now and he still wants to see me tomorrow.”

“In a suit.”

“Yes, in a suit.”

“And from where should we get a fucking suit now?”, asked Idriss, a grin starting to form on his lips.

Eliott laid his arm around Idriss’ shoulder, his smile brighter than the sun on the sky. He always knew that his best friend would always be there for him and always support him, no matter how crazy and stupid the idea might be. They had been through too much already to let the other down.

“Well, my princess”, started Eliott with a smile on his face, wriggling his eyebrows, “We’re now going on the hunt for exactly that.”

#things are staring to get interesting guys #and yes #you‘ll get eliott in a suit #you‘re welcome #skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #skam france fanfic #skam france fanfiction #elu fic #elu fanfic #chasing stars ff #also #enjoy this fluff as long as you can #i warned you

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math-is-magic · 6 years ago

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@kitsunesongs submitted:

So I posted an idea on the forum:

‘I really like the idea of the Warring Clan Era Uchiha somehow - maybe they got their hands on Sarutobi’s crystal ball? - doing something to see Madara’s future incarnation and watching DOS from Sasuke’s POV. Cause they would so ship SasuSaku and also be so torn on whether the village is a good idea or not. Cause on the one hand - it worked. Children aren’t sent out to die before hitting double digits and the clans are at peace. On the other, the uchiha clan is down to one person and they don’t know why…bet Izuna would be all 'the Senju did it!’ Before the tsukiyomi arc and then be in shock cause it was an UCHIHA?!’

And was wondering what you think Izuna would think of Konoha, Sasuke, Shikako and Itachi in that situation. I think he’d be all for Shikako the moment she takes the Tsukiyomi for Sasuke, but before that…and do they realise Naruto is Hashirama’s reincarnation?

Madara probably would.

Would Izuna want to find Shikako’s current (to them) incarnation cause this girl obviously has the potential to be one of his brothers precious people?

Basically I love your Izuna and want to hear your headcanons.

Hm. That is a. Complicated question. It would depend a lot on when they were in the Matching Scars timeline, and what Izuna actually saw. Also if he was force to watch to the end and couldn’t run out and rage. The whole Uchiha massacre thing really does make it... tricky. To try and get the WCE Uchiha on board. Though, there’s pretty obviously no Senju left either, so. That’s a whole. Thing.

I had some AU thoughts in my head waaay back when were were writing this stuff about how Mikako’s brothers finding out about the future or Mikako’s past would go and I really wish I had written them down, because I remember having ~Feelings~ about them, but I remember vague flashes of like. A reborn Sai showing up with drawings of dramatic moments in his life, including Madara running Shikako through and. Yikes. Also, Mikako waking up post tsukuyomi unable to sort out her three lifetimes and Hashirama starting to help her and getting desperately alarmed as he starts to realize that these three piles aren’t like. “Happened, Didn’t happen, Tsukuyomi” like he first thought.

But that’s neither here not there, I suppose, since I don’t remember enough to expand on those. In general, I think these things would make him suspicious but could ultimately bring him around to his siblings dreams if he was shown the right things. And if he and Madara are able to not blame themselves somehow. They’re. Very good at blaming themselves for things that happen to their family that they couldn’t have possibly prevented.

So let’s say. Izuna’s forced to watch this thing. maybe not Shikako’s view explicitly but like. Major scenes of team 7. He can’t leave or look away until it’s over. Not unlike being stuck in his own tsukuyomi, I suppose.

Let’s say, it starts from the bell test. Izuna is initially suspicious of everyone but Sasuke. And then Shikako immediately offers Sasuke and Naruto food, and gives them what is, in Izuna’s opinion, good advice - don’t trust this Hatake man! Don’t trust anyone unquestionably! (Except family, ofc) - and then they work together and she gets mildly hurt for them and offers herself up for them and... gosh she’s so like Mikako. Izuna doesn’t realize it, but there’s a little part in his heart opening up for this girl. Even if she’s a Nara. The Nara are pretty harmless.

And then Wave happens. And the kids fight and risk their lives for each other. Show major grief for each other. And Izuna still doesn’t want to believe it, I’m sure, but subconsciously he gets them, and is starting to root for them. Because the way they care about each other is the way he cares about his siblings. And then the chunin exams happen, and he is unquestionably rooting for them. Shikako is like Mikako, and weirdly he can see Madara in Naruto - idealistic, a bit bad with people, incredibly strong, able to bull his way through the impossible on sheer determination and power alone. So that leaves him as Sasuke, his mini-me.

Team 7 is stuck in the Forest of Death, and the sound team have come for them after Orochimaru has destroyed them (and he’s not thinking of child hunting parties, he’s NOT, those are supposed to be over, isn’t that the whole POINT of this stupid village thing, the one good aspect of Madara’s crazy idea that somehow seems like it might be working?). And then the rest of the Konoha 12 keep showing up. Keep saving each other. And before he knows it, that leaf headband becomes something that Izuna is relieved to see, the same as someone showing up wearing an Uchiwa when he’s losing a fight. These kids from the same village are protecting each other on principle, the same way clan members do.

And then Sasuke wakes up and hurts Shikako and Izuna KNOWS he’s the Sasuke in this scenario. Hurting his siblings... it terrifies him. He’s so convinced he’s a bad, dangerous person...

But that’s not his breakign point. Is breaking point is definitely Itachi. Kakashi - sad, awkward, protective Kakashi-sensei, so like Madara - is hurt protecting Sasuke from an Uchiha. And then Itachi is a threat to Naruto, and is about to Tsukuyomi Sasuke, and Shikako takes his place-

(God help him, if this is post-tsukuyomi incident and/or post-Mikako Replacing with him on Tobirama’s sword. The parallels are. Too much.)

And it is, eventually, a Senju healer who comes back, and saves Shikako, and protects Sasuke, and mentors him and-

The world is upside down. An Uchiha is the villain and a senju - among other clans - are the saviors and.

If you got Izuna to actually watch all of that, in a poitn where he’s vulnerable enough not to mental gymnastics his way out of believing any of it then I think you could legit change his mind about the village.

He’d probably hate himself even more though, between the parallels and the potential that he’s been fighting his sibling’s dreams not for their own well being, but to their detriment...

Yeah. I think that’s where that would go. Does that answer your question? Any additional thoughts?

#kitsunesongs #dreaming of sunshine #matchign scars #fan fiction #my writing #my meta #i guess #submission

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elisajdb · 6 years ago

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Life With You: XVIII

Part Eighteen:

Alone: Gohan

This was the worst week of Son Gohan’s life.

How could so many bad things happen to him when he’s only four years old and all in one week? What did he do to deserve this?

The week started off happily with Gohan having breakfast with Mommy and Daddy, playing, reading, and having lunch with his parents before leaving with Daddy to visit Daddy’s friends. The new people Gohan met were nice. All was well until a bad man appeared, claiming he’s Daddy brother and Daddy’s an alien.

The new word was foreign to the four year old but from what he understood, alien meant Daddy was born on another planet. The bad man said Daddy was sent to Earth as a baby and Daddy was supposed to do bad things.

That wasn’t Daddy. Daddy didn’t do bad things. He did good things. Daddy saved the world. Daddy helped people. Daddy won the World Martial Arts Tournament and was crowned strongest man in the world. No one could defeat Daddy but this bad man knocked Daddy down with one strike. Seeing Daddy crumple to the ground, crying in pain, scared Gohan. When he tried to go to Daddy, the bad man grabbed him and told Daddy he had to kill a hundred people. The bad man took him away but Daddy and the man he knew to be Piccolo came to rescue him.

Daddy and Piccolo weren’t strong enough to stop the bad man. In the alien’s ship, Gohan heard Daddy screaming in pain. It made Gohan sad then angry. He didn’t like this bad man hurting his Daddy. Gohan wanted to hurt him. Somehow he broke out of the alien’s ship and summoned enough strength to attack the bad man. Daddy told him to run but the bad man hit him before he could. Everything went black after that. When Gohan woke up, Piccolo told him the horrible news: Daddy died saving him, he will have to fight two aliens coming to Earth in a year and he had to live outside alone for six months. To Gohan’s horror, Piccolo flew away ignoring his pleas to stay, tell him where to find food, where he will take a bath and where he could find a bed to sleep in.

Piccolo. He yelled, threatened to slice his throat and even threw him towards a mountain just to show he had great power hidden in him. Couldn’t have there been a better way for Piccolo to show he had this hidden strength? Mommy and Grandpa were right about Piccolo and Daddy was wrong.

Once a month, Gohan and his parents visited Grandpa at his castle. Gohan loved visiting Grandpa. He was so nice and always had gifts for him. His home was huge, too. Gohan would get lost if he wasn’t accompanied by his parents or his Grandpa when he wanted Gohan to spend a weekend alone with him. After dinner, Gohan sat between his parents on the sofa listening to Grandpa share tales of his youth. Somehow topics changed to King Piccolo which led to Daddy telling Gohan of his fight against King Piccolo’s reincarnation at the World Martial Arts Tournament.

“And then Piccolo grew over fifty feet tall! He towered over all of us like that lizard in that movie we saw.” Daddy wailed his arms excitedly. “My heart was pounding. I was shaking! It was great!!”

Gohan’s eyes grew wide. He knew of the movie and the monster his Daddy talked about. This Piccolo that fought his Daddy was a giant! “What did you do next, Daddy?”

“I jumped around the ring a lot. Piccolo tried to squash me like a bug. He knocked me down a few times, but I got back at him.” Daddy was on his feet acting out the story as he told it. “I kicked Piccolo behind his knee and he fell on his butt.” Gohan put hands over his mouth giggling at the image. “Then I grabbed Piccolo’s finger and threw him to the other side of the ring. Boom! The whole area shook.”

“Yay!” Gohan clapped enthused.

“Heh. Heh,” Daddy chuckled. “Your Pops was feeling pretty good about himself, Gohan. I tossed Piccolo to show him his size didn’t scare me. I told him I would be in real trouble if he grew bigger. Wouldn’t you know it; Piccolo grew even bigger!”

Gohan gasped, “Why did you tell him that, Daddy?”

“Because your Daddy is a brilliant actor,” Mommy intervened. “Daddy only said that so Piccolo could grow bigger so he could climb in Piccolo’s mouth and free Kami.”

“Ah, ChiChi!” Daddy nearly stomp his foot. “I wanted to tell Gohan that.”

Mommy didn’t look happy. “That’s enough stories about your fight with Piccolo, Goku. I don’t want Gohan to have nightmares.”

“Ah,” Daddy waved off Mommy’s concerns. “Gohan knows there’s nothing to be scared about. I beat Piccolo.”

“I don’t want our son thinking about that monster,” Mommy repeated. “He’s an awful demon and he’s still out there. I still haven’t forgotten what he did to you.”

“I have to agree with ChiChi on this, Goku,” Grandpa jumped in. “King Piccolo was very evil and destructive. He held the world hostage. Many people were killed because of him. It’s great you stopped his reincarnate but if you hadn’t, we would be living the terror of King Piccolo once again. We might not be alive right now.”

What Grandpa said was scary but Daddy shrugged it off with a laugh. “Nah. Piccolo ain’t like King Piccolo.”

“How can you be sure?” Grandpa asked.

Daddy was quiet for a moment as he thought of an answer. Gohan noticed his Daddy’s smile turn to a frown before he settled besides Mommy. “I just know.”

Gohan noticed Mommy grabbing Daddy’s hand. “That’s enough talk about Piccolo tonight. We should get Gohan ready for bed.”

Gohan eventually learned the outcome of the fight. While Daddy wasn’t scared of him, Gohan understood why Mommy and Grandpa was scared of Piccolo. In his little time with the green man himself, Gohan thought Piccolo was very scary.

He was mean, too, leaving Gohan alone to be chased by dinosaurs where he wind up on a cliff with only sour apples for dinner. He still didn’t understand where the apples came from. There wasn’t an apple tree on the cliff. Later, Gohan remembered staring at the full moon (it was the first one he’s ever seen) and the next thing he knew it was morning, he wore new clothes, had a sword and didn’t have his tail anymore.

Gohan had no idea where he got new clothes, a sword or how he got off the cliff. He tried to think of what could’ve happened but the wildness of this place never stopped. Even early in the morning, animal life was teeming and dangerous. He was chased by an alligator and a sabretooth wanting him as their breakfast. While struggling to keep alive from them, he was grabbed by a large bird who got in a fight with a flying dinosaur. He broke free from the bird but plummet several feet from the sky. Even though the soft sands he crashed on were soft, the impact was hard. Gohan didn’t have a chance to collect himself before the ground opened up under him to pull him underground where he encountered a robot trapped below for decades.

Two days befriending a robot gave Gohan temporarily companionship and shelter but when their short time ended it left Gohan wondering two scary things. What if his mother couldn’t find him? What if he had to take care of himself until Piccolo returned?

Don’t even think of escaping. This place is surrounded by desert. A world of death makes this place look like a paradise.

With Piccolo’s threatening words, Gohan was too scared to leave this area. Wherever he was, it was huge to be surrounded by a desert. It would take time to explore this place but Gohan already knew from what he seen, this area had different geological makeup. The outer areas was surrounded by desert but traveling inward where he was now, Gohan found himself in lush green that weren’t far from the rugged, mountainous region Piccolo left him in. Here, there were trees and bushes that grew berries and fruit; there was a waterfall that poured into a lake that were plentiful of fishes. This area reminded Gohan of the forest near his home. Gohan didn’t know where he was but knew he was miles away from home. If he was near home, Mommy would’ve found him by now. He also doubted Piccolo would’ve dropped him near home. He was adamant Gohan stay here until he fought the Saiyans.

Don’t even think of escaping. This place is surrounded by desert. A world of death makes this place look like a paradise.

Piccolo’s word made it too scary to leave but that was a good thing Gohan reasoned. If he stayed in the same spot, it would make it easier for Mommy to find him. Until then, this area will be his home. He had fresh water, access to fruit, meat and plenty of caverns to seek shelter in.

Trying to make the best of a rotten situation, Gohan decided it was time to get some food. Until Mommy came, he will have to feed himself. When he and Daddy went camping, Daddy loved to hunt fish. Gohan never did it himself but he remembered watching Daddy.

Gohan stood with his father at the edge of the lake. It was dinner time and with ChiChi at home, it was left to Goku to get them something to eat on their camping trip. ChiChi did pack some food but Goku wanted something more than what ChiChi packed.

“But Mommy made food for us.” Gohan pointed to the packed containers of food ChiChi packed with their camping gear.

Goku laughed as he pulled off his shirts. “Mommy’s spoiling us. Don’t worry. We’ll eat those but when you go camping, you don’t bring your food. You eat what’s out here.” He pulled off his pants. “Get undressed. I’ll show you how I bring fish home for you and Mommy.”

“Okay.” Gohan undressed and followed his father in the lake. There were plenty of fishes in the lake of different sizes. Goku was a fast swimmer but he slowed his pace so Gohan could keep up with him.

Gohan observed his father swim towards a large fish. He saw his Daddy punch the fish, grab the tail and signaled Gohan to swim to the surface. Once out of the water, Gohan dressed and watched in awe of his Daddy placing the large fish on a long, thick branch. The fish was four times Gohan’s size. He couldn’t imagine lifting it but his Daddy lift it as if it were paper. Daddy was so strong and amazing. Instead of rubbing sticks together, Daddy shot something from his hand to heat the sticks. It created a fire immediately. Gohan wondered if his Daddy will show him how to do that one day.

As he dressed, Goku said, “While the fish cooks, I’ll show you how to find other foods out here. There’s plenty to eat.”

Gohan rushed to their tent. He rummaged and came out with an empty bowl. Gohan noticed his father looking down at him curiously. “We need something to hold the food, Daddy.”

Goku rubbed the back of his neck. “You might not always have that, Gohan. What would you do then?”

Gohan thought for a moment. “I’ll use my hands.” He grinned. “But since I have a bowl, I don’t need to.”

Goku patted Gohan’s head, smiling fondly at his son. “Mommy said the same thing to me when we went camping. All right,” he gave in. “We’ll do it your way today but tomorrow, I’m gonna show you how you can make your own bowls.”

As father and son searched the forest for food, Gohan asked, “How did you create fire with your hands, Daddy? In my books, you rub sticks together to create fire.”

“Rubbing sticks together is one way of doing it, Gohan. I did it myself when I was your age before I learned how to us my Ki.”

Gohan looked up at his Daddy. Ki? Another new word he had to learn. “Can you show me?”

Gohan noticed the smile on his Daddy’s face turn into a frown. He was going to ask what was wrong but his father smiled again and told him. “Maybe when you’re older. Come on. Let’s find some food.”

The further they traveled the forest the more Gohan wondered where he and his Daddy were gonna find food. Gohan only saw trees and plants so far. “If you’re hungry and outside, Gohan, there are foods you can and can’t eat. I lived alone for years and survived by eating food out here.”

“What about your Mommy and Daddy?” Gohan asked. His father turned to him wearing that same frown again. “Didn’t you live with your Mommy and Daddy like Mommy lived with Grandpa?”

Goku knelt to Gohan’s level. “No, I didn’t live with Mommy and Daddy, Gohan.” He shrugged, unsure how to explain. “I don’t even remember them. I don’t know what happened to them. I lived with my Grandpa, your Great Grandpa, the man you’re named after.”

“He died though.” Gohan recalled hearing his parents tell him that. “So, you lived alone? Without Great Grandpa? Without a Mommy or Daddy?”

“Yeah….” he said slowly, “but it was okay.”

Gohan threw his arms around his Daddy’s neck. He was young but he knew enough to know it was not okay. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry you didn’t have a Grandpa anymore. I’m sorry you didn’t have a Mommy or Daddy to cook you yummy meals or to play with like you and Mommy do with me.”

Goku slowly wrapped his arms around Gohan returning the hug. “Ah, Gohan,” Goku whispered. “You have so much of Mommy in you.” When they parted, Goku noticed tears around Gohan’s eyes. “Don’t be sad for me, Gohan. I survived. I was happy. I made friends. I married Mommy and I had you.” He placed his hands on Gohan’s shoulders. “But know this. You won’t go through what I went through. You’re gonna have a Mommy and Daddy to grow up with. So, no more tears. Okay, Gohan.”

Gohan’s smile returned as his Daddy wiped away his tears. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Now let’s get some food.” Gohan followed his father, stopping a few feet later at a group of mushrooms. “See those mushrooms. Take a good look at them, Gohan.” Goku pointed at mushrooms that were shaped with wide umbrella tops and white rings on the stem. “You don’t eat these. Grandpa told me they’re poisonous and you can die from them. I didn’t listen to Grandpa and ate a bunch because I was really hungry. I was sick for a day.” He pointed to another set of mushrooms. “Don’t eat these. I ate them and threw up everything I ate that day. Grandpa told me not to each those either.”

Gohan frowned at his father. “If Great Grandpa told you not to eat them, why didn’t you listen?”

Goku rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel an awkward blush on his cheeks. “If you tell me to not do something, I have to do it to understand why I’m told not to do it.”

That didn’t make sense to Gohan.

“You’re smarter than Daddy, Gohan. Listen to others. At least listen to others that care about you.”

“Like you and Mommy?”

Goku nodded. “Like me and Mommy.” They resumed their search for food until Goku stopped Gohan at another set of mushrooms. “What do you think of those, Gohan?”

Gohan stared at the mushrooms. They were different from the ones his Daddy showed him. They were shriveled with odd spots on them. Gohan took a stick and poke the mushrooms. “It looks weird and mushy.” Gohan made a disgusted face. “I don’t like them.”

Goku grinned. “Good because you shouldn’t eat them. They’re old and rotten.”

“Did you eat these, too?” Gohan said exasperated. To his relief, learn Daddy didn’t eat these.

Father and son continued on until they came upon a group of mushrooms they haven’t seen before. “These you can eat, Gohan.” Goku crouch down by a group of round puffball like mushrooms. “They taste okay plain but they’re really good if you cook them over a fire.”

“Like marshmallows?” Gohan chirped as he picked the mushrooms.

“Yeah. You can eat insects, too.” Goku placed a hand on a nearby rock. He turned it over to show Gohan several critters crawling underneath. “There are plenty of choices under rocks. Avoid the ones that are hairy like spiders but eat crunchy insects like ants, grasshoppers and crickets.”

“Ants, grasshoppers and crickets?” Gohan stuck his tongue out. “I’m not eating those, Daddy!”

“If you roast them, they’re fine,” Goku cheerfully told Gohan but his son shook his head disgusted. “If you can’t catch a fish or kill another animal, these insects may be all you can eat.” Gohan shook his head stubbornly refusing to add insects to their meal. Goku shook his head amused as he placed the rock down. “You’re just like Mommy. She wouldn’t eat them either.”

Father and son continued their search for food. Gohan understood while the food they eat out here wasn’t Mommy’s cooking, it was still edible. Except the insects. Under no circumstances would he eat them.

Gohan removed his clothes and jumped in the lake. As he swam in the lake, he saw many fishes; some his size; others as big as his Daddy. Picking one, Gohan swam to it like his Daddy did on their camping trip. Gohan punched the fish with all his might. Daddy killed a large fish with one punch. Since Piccolo showed him he can destroy a mountain, Gohan thought he could kill a fish with one punch.

He couldn’t. Gohan’s punch was weak and his hold on the fish wasn’t tight. The fish freed itself from Gohan’s grasp and swam away. Gohan started to go after it but need for air had Gohan swimming to the surface.

“Guess I’m not good at this like Daddy,” Gohan pouted after taking in heavy breaths. Inhaling deeply, Gohan dove in the water again. He couldn’t find any small fish and when Gohan tried to grab a big fish, it slapped Gohan’s face with its tail.

An hour later an exhausted Gohan laid on the grass. He was tired, hungry and didn’t have the strength to swim in the lake again for another fish. His stomach growled loudly. Oh, he was so hungry. He had to eat something. Gohan rolled on his stomach and pushed himself to his feet. There was something he could eat.

“Ants, grasshoppers and crickets.”

“If you roast them, they’re fine.”

Gohan cringed as he turned over a rock. He found an apple tree, some berries but not any of the edible mushrooms. His four year old body was too tired right now to look. It was also getting dark which Gohan found scary. He’ll have to hide in a cave soon before the night animals come out.

Several ants crawled from under the rock. No crickets but there were a few grasshoppers. One actually jumped in his hand. Gohan’s stomach growled again. He was so hungry.

“Ants, grasshoppers and crickets.”

“If you roast them, they’re fine.”

Maybe he can roast them tomorrow. Tonight, he’ll eat them raw. Gohan scooped a handful of ants in his small hand. Several crawled over his hand and up his arm. The grasshopper stared at Gohan. His antennas wiggled at him. Gohan gulped.

“Ants, grasshoppers and crickets.”

“If you roast them, they’re fine.”

Closing his eyes, Gohan stuffed the handful of ants and grasshopper in his mouth. He didn’t think. He just swallowed and pretended he wasn’t eating ants and grasshopper. He followed that up by stuffing berries in his mouth to drown out the sound of crunchy insects.

Gohan sniffled as he laid on the ground of the cave he called home. It’s been five days and Mommy still hadn’t found him yet. She needed more time Gohan told himself. She’ll find him. He wished she’d come soon. He created a warm home but he wanted to be in his own bed. He wanted to eat Mommy’s meals. He still hadn’t caught a fish yet and he was tired and disgusted with himself for eating insects with fruits for the last two days. He wanted to go back in time, back to a week ago where his family were all together and happy.

“Goku! Gohan! It’s dinnertime!”

Gohan sat at his desk reading his picture book when he heard his mother. He could smell the yummy smells from the kitchen to his room for the past hour. He thought to finish this page and join Mommy and Daddy but his father had other plans

“Gohan,” Goku entered Gohan’s room, “it’s dinnertime.”

Gohan kept his eyes on his book. “I want to finish this last page, Daddy.”

Goku closed the book. “You can finish that later.” He ushered Gohan out of his chair and out his room. “It’s time to eat. We don’t wanna be late for Mommy’s food.”

Goku and Gohan cleaned their hands in the hall bathroom before entering the kitchen to see the dinner table laden with food. Goku squealed at the variety of dishes on the table. “It smells so good in here, ChiChi!”

ChiChi set aside her single plate and was occupied fixing Gohan’s plates when Goku and Gohan took their seats at the table. “Thank you, Mommy,” Gohan said when ChiChi placed his starter plates in front of him.

“You’re welcome, Gohan.” After ChiChi placed Goku’s starter plates before him, she took her seat at the table. After a prayer, the family of three ate their dinner.

Mommy’s food was always delicious. As much as Gohan loved his Mommy’s food, it didn’t match Daddy’s love for Mommy’s cooking. He ate loudly and quickly, ignoring the few times Mommy told him to slow down. Sometimes Daddy ate Mommy’s food so quickly, he almost choked.

ChiChi would start cleaning dishes after she finished her plate. This left Goku to refilling his and Gohan’s plates until they finished their meals. Once all the dishes were empty and their bellies full, Goku and Gohan sat at the table talking while Chichi cleaned up. When she finished, the family of three entered the living room for family time. ChiChi relaxed on the floor while Gohan carefully pulled out the board game left intact from last night.

Goku sat opposite of ChiChi and Gohan. He fiddled with the metal pieces on the board game. “Which one am I again?” He touched the thimble metal piece. “This hat? Do I go first?”

“It’s a thimble, Daddy, and that’s Mommy’s. You’re the racecar.” Gohan corrected his father. “It’s Mommy’s turn. I was the last one to make a move last night.”

ChiChi grabbed the dice, shook it and toss it on the board. She moved her piece relieved when she stopped, she wasn’t on anyone’s properties. “Your turn, Goku.”

Goku grabbed the black and white dice, shook it and tossed it on the board. “Five.” Goku moved his racecar five spots. He landed on a spot with a question mark. Knowing that means he picks from the stack of orange cards on the board, Goku did so and read the card. “Go to jail?” he frowned. “But I didn’t do anything bad?”

“It’s a game, Goku,” ChiChi told him. “You picked the wrong card.”

“Yeah, but bad guys go to jail. I’m not a bad guy.”

“Actually, you are.”

“Whaa???” Goku whined while Gohan giggled. “How am I a bad guy?”

“You’re a tickle monster. Attacking me and Gohan the way you do is criminal.” ChiChi hugged her son close to her. “Isn’t that right, Gohan?”

“Uh-huh,” Gohan agreed giggling at Daddy’s annoyance. “Daddy’s bad. Go to jail, Daddy!”

The shock of his wife and son telling him he was bad quickly gave way to a smile. If that’s how they want to be…. “Oh, I’m a bad guy because I can tickle you until you give up.”

Gohan noticed his Daddy’s voice changed slightly. He also noticed his mother suddenly unwrapped her arms around him. “Run, Gohan.”

“Huh?”

Goku grinned wickedly as he rose to his feet. He stared down at Gohan and ChiChi. “If I’m a bad, I might as well go all in.”

“Run, Gohan!” ChiChi pushed Gohan to move as she got to her feet. “I’ll hold Daddy off. Run!”

Goku moved to go for Gohan but ChiChi jumped in front of her son, sacrificing herself to Goku. “Ah!!” ChiChi screamed between laughs as Goku’s fingers danced over her body. “Stop, Goku! Stop!”

“Never!” Goku’s voice was evil as he tickled ChiChi. “I’m the bad guy, remember!” He eyed Gohan who giggled at his mother trying to break away from his father. “You’re next, Gohan.” Instead of running, Gohan watched amused as Goku picked up ChiChi and laid her on the sofa. He straddled and tickled her.

ChiChi screamed and squealed as Goku’s fingers moved faster over her. “Give in. Give in to the tickle monster!”

“Ah! No!” ChiChi squealed. She ran her fingers up Goku’s sides causing him to giggle uncontrollably. ChiChi attempted to pull away from Goku but he grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. With his free hand, he tickled ChiChi again. “Stop, Goku,” ChiChi said in between laughs. “Stop it!”

Goku leaned over ChiChi, his voice dropping a few octaves. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”

“I give up,” ChiChi gasped between laughs. “I give.” Goku rewarded her with a kiss. It wasn’t a surprised to see Mommy and Daddy be this way. His parents kissed in front of him before but the kisses were quick and Daddy was never on top of Mommy like this. ChiChi pulled away. She gestured Goku to look her way. “Goku, that’s enough. Gohan’s watching.”

“We’ll finish this later.” Gohan wondered what that meant. Goku climbed off ChiChi and turned to him. “All right, Gohan. You’re next. The tickle monster is coming for you.”

Gohan ran out the room laughing as his father chased him. Gohan hid under his bed as his father entered the room. “Gohan.” Goku looked around as he pretended to search for Gohan. He opened his closet. It was empty. “I know you’re here. You can’t hide from me.” He pulled out the chair of Gohan’s desk. “Not here. Where could you be?”

Gohan held his breath as Daddy turned to the bed. “Could you be under there?” Gohan’s heart pounded as his Daddy got closer to the bed. If Daddy grabbed him, it would be over. He couldn’t survive Daddy’s tickles.

Gohan saw an opening to escape. He did so, crawling between the gap at his Daddy’s feet. Gohan crawled from under the bed, passed the V space Daddy’s stance created, got to his feet and ran out of the room.

“You won’t get away, Gohan!” Gohan towards his parents’ room but was quickly scooped in his father’s arms and tortured with tickles. “Gotcha!”

The tickles were relentless. Gohan couldn’t stop laughing. Tears were spilling from his eyes. “I give,” Gohan relented, breaking faster than his mother. “I give up, Daddy. Stop!”

Goku returned to the living room where Goku gently dropped Gohan on the sofa in his mother’s arms. ChiChi held him close as they both laughed at their game. Goku sat with them on the sofa. Being in his Mommy’s arms and looking at his happy Daddy, Gohan never felt happier. For him, everything was perfect.

Gohan stared at the fire with tears streaming down his eyes. “Mommy. Daddy. I miss you.”

The next morning, Gohan woke up starving. After failing to catch another fish, Gohan resigned himself to eating ants, grasshoppers and crickets with berries for breakfast. Frustrated with this morning’s breakfast, Gohan wandered the vegetated land. He had to get better at fishing. He had to get better at surviving. He needed to do his part and stay alive until Mommy found him.

Believe in your power and figure out yourself how to effectively draw out that power.

Piccolo told Gohan this before he left. After a week alone, a week of eating insects, bland mushrooms and fruit; a week of hiding in his cave away from that pesky dinosaur who was determined to eat him; a week of crying and longing for his parents, Gohan was ready to listen to Piccolo’s words.

Gohan understood to stay alive, to eat some meat, he had to build his strength and confidence. He decided to start small. Gohan retrieved a log of wood near his cave. Gohan unsheathed his sword. He raised the sword above his head brought it down hard to stab the log. The sword pieced the wood. Gohan raised the sword over his head and slammed it on the wood again.

‘Remember what Daddy told you, Gohan. Remember it all.’

Gohan sat on the grass watching his father meticulously work. Daddy wanted to show him how to use materials of the land. Gohan didn’t understand why Daddy wanted to show him this. He rather use materials Mommy packed for them but this was important to Daddy so he didn’t complain. Daddy began the lesson by chopping off a thick log of tree with his hand. There was no way Gohan could do that. He wasn’t strong like Daddy. Luckily, there was an alternative.

“Grandpa cut wood with an ax until he carved out a bowl like shape,” Daddy told Gohan. “I used to do it that way, too, but when I got stronger, I used my hand now to cut with enough precision until it’s smooth on the inside.”

Gohan listened intently while watching in awe as his father turned the block of wood in one hand while his other hand glowed and cut the wood to form a perfect bowl. “Maybe one day you can do this, Gohan. Until then, you’ll have to use sharp materials.”

“I did it! I did it!” Gohan danced around happily at his accomplishment. He made a bowl out of tree log. It wasn’t as perfect as his Daddy’s. In fact, it was crude with jagged round ends. The interior was jagged in some areas but it was durable and it could hold his food instead of Gohan carrying it all himself. “Yay! I can’t believe I did it!”

A dark shadow hovered over Gohan. A familiar snarl behind him left Gohan’s blood running cold. He turned. The tyrannosaurus that chased him all week had found him. The dinosaur grinned; pools of drool dropped from his mouth as he crept to Gohan.

“WAAAH!!!” Gohan screamed as he ran from the dinosaur. The dinosaur quickly gave chase after Gohan. So close. He wasn’t losing his meal this time!

In his haste to run away, Gohan dropped his bowl. Gohan turned to retrieve it but saw the dinosaur crush the bowl under his foot. Gohan saw his accomplishment, his hours of hard work, crumple into several pieces. The dinosaur above him laughed, not at crushing the bowl, but at the young meal he will soon eat.

Gohan saw rage. He worked very hard creating that bowl and this mean dinosaur destroyed it. Anger rose in him. It was oddly familiar. He could’ve sworn he felt this rage, this strength build in him when that bad man was hurting his Daddy.

Gohan was so angry. He was angry this dinosaur broke the bowl he worked so hard to make. He was angry with himself, too If he was stronger, he wouldn’t be running away from this dinosaur. He wouldn’t have dropped the bowl. Gohan unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the approaching dinosaur. “You broke my bowl!” Gohan screamed while running madly towards the dinosaur. “You’re gonna pay for that!”

Gohan jumped on the dinosaur’s head, flipped and landed on the dinosaur’s back. He was full of rage. The dinosaur took something of his. Gohan saw it equal justice to take something from the dinosaur. The dinosaur’s tail came into view. Gohan jumped in the air, flipped and as he came down, sliced off the tip of the dinosaur’s tail.

The dinosaur howled in pain. The dinosaur turned to roar at Gohan but jumped back as Gohan swung his sword at him. His eyes were white and full of rage. It scared the dinosaur. His meals never acted like this before. Frightened, the dinosaur ran off putting as much distance between him and Gohan as possible.

As the dinosaur ran off, Gohan felt the rage leave his body. Blinking, his pupils returned and Gohan stared confused at the dinosaur running off. What happened? Why was he holding his sword and what happened to the dinosaur’s tail?

“Did I do that?”

Your power bursts loose only when your emotions are at their peak.

“I was angry at the dinosaur for crushing my bowl. Is this what Piccolo meant?” Gohan stared at the tail. “Dinosaur’s tail,” Gohan murmured. “Meat!” His face lit up! “I can finally eat some meat!”

Gohan took the tail and dragged it back in his cave. For the first time in a week, Gohan felt happy and confident in himself and the hidden power in him. He found another tree log and created another bowl. Gohan was so happy, he didn’t stop there. Seeing he sent a dinosaur running away, Gohan felt confident enough to finally catch a fish.

Gohan returned to the lake, removed his clothes and dove in the water again. He followed a school of fish. He avoided the large ones and trailed behind a lone fish falling behind. Gohan kicked his legs faster towards the fish. The fish didn’t have time to react when Gohan wrapped his arms around it. The fish wiggled and squirmed in Gohan’s arms but Gohan held the fish tightly. The fish fought to live but Gohan fought to eat, fought to survive. If he couldn’t accomplish this, how could he hold on for his mother to find him?

Gohan gasped for air once he broke the surface. Gritting his teeth, Gohan pushed himself to the edge of the lake. Once a hand touched land, Gohan tossed the fish on the grass. The fish flopped wildly as it fought for air. Gohan climbed out of the lake and collapsed on his back, breathing heavily. That was exhausting.

But he did it.

“I did it!” Gohan cheered triumphantly. “I caught my first fish!”

That night Gohan had his best dinner all week. He roasted dinosaur’s tail, fish and mushrooms on a thin stick like shish kabob over the fire. His bowl was filled with fruits of berries, apples and oranges. The mushrooms, tail and fish didn’t have his mother’s special seasoning but it was edible and a lot better than eating insects.

‘I can do this’, Gohan thought to himself. ‘I can survive out here until you find me, Mommy.’

Daddy was in pain. He could hear the screams even in this round pod he was trapped in.

“How could I have thought you could be a warrior?” Gohan heard the bad man say.

More screams from Daddy. The bad man was hitting Daddy really hard.

“True warrior never hesitate to kill! Not even his own brother! Care for a demonstration?”

Daddy’s screams were louder and more horrific. The bad man was gonna kill Daddy!

Daddy’s screams rang in Gohan’s ears. The bad man was gonna kill Daddy. He had to stop him. He had to save Daddy. Gohan was scared he will lose him but mostly Gohan felt rage. Rage at losing his Daddy. Rage at this bad man hurting Daddy. The rage consumed him.

Gohan felt himself breaking free of the pod he was held captured in. The bad man stood over Daddy with his foot on Daddy’s chest. Gohan flew off his feet and ram head first against the bad man.

The bad man stumbled but he didn’t fall on the ground. Gohan felt all his rage evaporate. What happened? How did he get out here? Daddy! Gohan hurried to his father lying on the ground.

“Daddy?”

“Run…. Gohan,” Daddy told him. “Get away….run!”

Gohan felt a large shadow over him. He turned to see the bad man. Something swung at him and everything went black.

Gohan bolted awake. He sat up breathing hard and sweating. Sometimes he had happy dreams of his parents. Other times he had nightmares of the last moments he saw Daddy. He wiped away tears that occurred during his nightmare.

‘Stop crying,’ Gohan told himself. ‘Crying doesn’t solve anything.’

Tears wiped away, Gohan grabbed his sword and left the cave.

For three months, Gohan stayed in the same spot. For three months, Gohan hunted fish and ate fruit and bland mushrooms. He occasionally ate dinosaur’s tail. For three months, Gohan spent his nights in the cave he called home and days happily running around playing with the animals he once feared. The sabretooth that chased Gohan daily when he arrived now ran from Gohan who happily chased him.

Gohan was happy. He no longer feared the snakes and wild animals in the area. The thunderstorms didn’t scare him anymore. He was safe here. He was happy but there was one thing that troubled him.

Why hasn’t Mommy found him?

Gohan thought being in the same spot for three months, his mother would have found him by now. Daddy would’ve. Mommy always found him when he got lost in the forest. This isn’t the forest near home but that shouldn’t stop Mommy, should it?

“Maybe…..maybe Mommy can’t find me.” Gohan spoke defeated. “Maybe Piccolo took me so far away from home Mommy can’t find me.”

Don’t even think of escaping. This place is surrounded by desert. A world of death makes this place look like a paradise.

That’s what Piccolo told him. Piccolo chose this place for a reason Gohan realized. Being surrounded by desert prevented him from venturing out. Piccolo’s threatening words of what’s outside this area kept Gohan here.

“That was months ago,” Gohan told himself. “I’m stronger now.” The little boy clenched his fists and flexed his arms. His arms had gotten stronger over the months. He could run faster than before. He could jump high and down from the highest tree branches. He could subdue a fish with a punch now. He punched a boulder and while it didn’t turn to rubble, it created cracks. “Maybe I’m strong enough to escape this place and go home.”

We need your power! You must learn to use that power and join us in protecting the Earth!!

You hold the key to the Earth’s fate.

Piccolo told him he will have to fight these Saiyans. He was needed to protect the Earth. If he goes home to his mother, would he return to prepare for the fight against these Saiyans? Probably not, he realized. He would be too happy to be home, eating Mommy’s food, sleeping in his bed, enjoying hot baths by Mommy and reading his books. He wouldn’t think about these Saiyans at all.

We need your power! You must learn to use that power and join us in protecting the Earth!!

You hold the key to the Earth’s fate.

What if Daddy couldn’t stop these Saiyans because he wasn’t there? What if his powers were needed? If he wasn’t there, then the Saiyans will kill Daddy. They will kill Mommy and Grandpa, too. If Mommy died because he couldn’t protect her, it would crush him but it will also mean he broke his word with Daddy.

Gohan couldn’t forgive himself if he did that.

“It’s only for three days, Gohan.”

Goku knelt before Gohan wiping away his tears. Goku was packed and ready for his trip. He agreed with ChiChi to be gone for three days while he got in some intense training. ChiChi stood at the door. They already said goodbye but Gohan was having a hard time letting him leave. To Gohan, three days was a lifetime.

“But I’ll miss you.” Gohan pouted. “I want to go with you.”

“I have to do this, Gohan. I wanna stay strong.”

“But you’re already strong,” Gohan told him. “You’re the strongest man in the world. Mommy said so.”

“Yeah, but to keep being the strongest, I have to train. Sometimes that means I do it for days away from you and Mommy.”

“But why?”

“I like being strong,” Goku admitted truthfully. “When I was kid, I wanted to get stronger for myself. Now that I have you and Mommy, it’s different now. I wanna stay strong to protect you both.” Goku rubbed Gohan’s head affectionately. “Sometimes when we do things for others, we have to make sacrifices.”

“So, you’re training for me and Mommy?” Gohan tried to understand. “You’re making a sacrifice to be away from us to get stronger for us?”

“Wow,” Goku was in awe of his son. “Mommy’s right. You are very smart.” At that, Gohan blushed.

“I wanna make a sacrifice for you,” Gohan told his Daddy. “It’s only fair.”

Goku grinned. His child was truly special. “I don’t think it works like that.”

Gohan looked firm at his Daddy. “I wanna do it.”

Three years old and so determined. Goku couldn’t deny his only child. “Not a sacrifice. How about a promise. When I’m not here, you have to protect Mommy for me. Can you do that for me, Gohan?” Gohan nodded firmly. “Good. Because we can’t let anything happen to Mommy.”

Tears rolled down Gohan’s cheek. He understood a little during his talk with his Daddy. Now he truly understood what it meant for Daddy to train alone for days; how what he did was sacrifices for them. Gohan wanted to go home and see his mother but he had to make that sacrifice and not go. If he went home, he’ll forget about training for the Saiyans. He’ll enjoy his life again before Daddy’s reunion and when the Saiyans come to Earth, he would unintentionally sacrifice his mother’s life and break his word to Daddy.

Gohan couldn’t do that.

“Daddy’s the strongest man on Earth and I’m his son. Daddy saved the Earth when he was a kid. Piccolo said my power is needed to save the Earth.”

You have power hidden within you that you never even glimpsed.

Gohan wiped away his tears. “No more crying,” he told himself. “Three months I’ve done nothing but play and eat and wonder when Mommy will get me. I can’t think like that anymore. Piccolo will be here in three months to start our training. It’s time I get started. I have to protect Earth. I have to protect Mommy.”

Time was up. Six months has passed since Piccolo left Son Goku’s son in the wilderness. If that boy hadn’t toughen up in six months, he’ll kill the child himself. That boy had unbelievable hidden power and if he hadn’t gotten some control of it by now, he’s better off dead. He would be useless against the Saiyans and it would be stupid leaving a child with such power alive because at some point he could master it and that would put a wrench in Piccolo’s plans for world domination. He’ll have to kill the child someday anyway. When he kill Son Goku, it’s only logical he had to kill his son immediately after. Only an idiot would spare Son Goku’s son and let the child grow up to avenge his father’s murder.

“I bet Kami is watching and laughing his ass off at the irony. Me, the son of King Piccolo, who’s purpose in life is to avenge my father’s death by Son Goku’s hand, must now train Son Goku’s son against Son Goku’s own people who are coming to kill all of us in six months.”

Oh, yes. Kami was laughing.

“However,” Piccolo grinned wickedly, “there is some joy out of this. I’ll make the remake the child in my image. The child will wear my family’s name; fight in my family’s clothes. That’s sure to get under Son Goku’s skin. Heh. Heh.”

Perhaps, he’ll get something out of this after all.

When Piccolo found Gohan, he noticed the child’s Ki was higher than when he left him. This was promising. However, the child hadn’t managed to feel Ki through others or he would’ve noticed him hovering in the air for the last half hour.

Below, Gohan happily chased a dinosaur. Piccolo raise a brow. It looked like the dinosaur that chased Gohan six months ago and….. did the dinosaur’s tail get shorter? Gohan jumped in the air, luring the dinosaur to crash into a mountain. With the dinosaur dazed, Gohan unsheathed his sword and slice another piece of tail. Gohan happily walked away, set fire to wood with a blast of his own Ki and cooked the slice of dinosaur’s meat.

Piccolo was very impressed. “He seems to be getting this down. Time for the real training to begin.”

Gohan rubbed his full belly and licked his lips. That dinosaur’s meat was really yummy. It was too bad with a few more slices the dinosaurs won’t have a tail anymore and that meant no more meat for Gohan.

“Oh, well,” Gohan thought cheerfully. “I can still eat the fish around here.”

Behind him, Gohan heard a flutter of a heavy cloth. He felt a strong presence behind him. Gohan stood and turned around. Gohan’s mouth fell open in shock.

Piccolo didn’t imagine what Gohan would do when he saw him again. Perhaps he thought the child would quiver in fear of his presence for he knew the hell he will be put through. Perhaps he thought the child will burst into tears because crying and whining seemed to be all the child could do during their brief exchange.

What Piccolo didn’t expect was Gohan to happily scream his name.

“Piccolo!”

The child screamed his name so loudly, so joyfully it forced Piccolo to jump back in fear and confusion. What was going on? Why was the child so happy? Gohan should be scared. He should realize it’s time for Gohan to endure the hell of Piccolo’s training camp. Or maybe the child should be solemn as he accept his fate to defend the Earth. The child should not be happily screaming his name and running to him with waving arms.

“Piccolo!” Gohan screamed. “It’s me! Son Gohan!! I’m so happy to see you!!”

Happy to see him? What the hell was wrong with child?

“Piccolo!!” Gohan wrapped his arms around Piccolo’s right leg. “You came back! You didn’t leave me alone forever!! You came back like you said you would!”

Piccolo gaped at the child startled. What was he doing? Why was his arms wrapped around his leg like this? Why was he smiling? Why was he happy?

Piccolo pushed Gohan away from him. “What are you doing?!”

“This is so great!” Gohan danced around Piccolo. “You came back! You came back! That must mean it’s been six months! I’m so happy you came back to me! I won’t be alone anymore! These six months have been so crazy! I was chased by dinosaurs, sabretooths, alligators and flying birds! I had to eat insects! That was yucky! I ate mushrooms! They weren’t so bad but they could use Mommy’s special seasoning! I made a bowl but that dinosaur crushed it and I had to make another one. I learned how to create fire! I learned how to jump really high like my Daddy and I learned how to land without hurting myself! Ooooo, oooo, I even punched a boulder and I cracked it. I’ve gotten so strong! I can show you right now!” The child spoke so fast and said so many words, Piccolo wondered what came over him. This wasn’t the coddled child he spoke to six months ago “But I miss my Mommy and Daddy so much,” Gohan rattled on. “I thought about them a lot and I had dreams about them, too. Good dreams and bad dreams. I had a nightmare about Daddy and the bad man….”

The child wouldn’t stop talking. Piccolo tried to get a word in but Gohan kept going on and on what life was like for him for six months. For a being who was used to silence, hearing this jabber mouth was irritating.

“SHUT UP!!!” Piccolo roared. Gohan clasped both hands over his mouth. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

To Piccolo’s shock, Gohan was crying but it wasn’t tears of fear. The child had tears of joy in his eyes. “You didn’t forget me and I survived six months alone. I didn’t die of loneliness like I feared. I didn’t think I could do it but I did.” Gohan wrapped his arms around Piccolo’s leg again. “I’m so happy you came back to me. I know this means we start our training, but you being here means I’ll have someone to talk to now. I haven’t been around anyone for so long I was starting to forget how to talk.”

Piccolo didn’t believe that. The child wouldn’t stop talking since he showed up and he was doing this strange thing of wrapping his arms around his leg. What was this? Some human thing?

Piccolo put a hand on Gohan’s head and pushed the child away with such force, Gohan fell on his bottom. “Stop that! I don’t what the hell you’re doing so just stop it.”

Gohan gazed at Piccolo confused. “You’ve never been hugged before? That’s really sad.”

“Hug?” The word was alien to Piccolo.

Gohan got to his feet. Piccolo’s odd behavior made sense now. “A hug is when you put your arms around someone and hold them against you in a gentle way. It shows you like them.”

“Like them?” What was this child talking about?

“Well, uh…hmmm.” Gohan crossed his arms over his chest. How to explain that? “Don’t you like anything?”

“I’d like to kill your Dad if that’s what you mean.”

“No!” Gohan shook his head and waved his hands frantically. He stared at Piccolo dumbfounded. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

Piccolo didn’t understand but he was certain this child just insulted him. To his ire, Gohan giggled. “Wow. You’re just like Daddy. He didn’t know anything about hugs or kisses until he met Mommy.”

“What?!” Piccolo roared. “Don’t you ever compare me to you father! He didn’t have the decency to make you strong. He’s cosseted you since birth giving you food to eat, a bath, a bed and a home without you earning it on your own!”

“But…..” Gohan whimpered, “I’m only four.”

“Four?!” Piccolo threw his head back laughing. This child. How spoiled he is. “I’ve been on my own since I hatched from my father’s egg. I was three when I fought your father.”

“Three?!!” Gohan looked Piccolo up and down stunned. “But....but….” Gohan tried to understand. This didn’t make any sense. Daddy was a man when he fought Piccolo. Gohan saw the pictures when he went to the museum. He counted the years from the last martial arts tournament on his finger. “You’re eight years old?!”

“I am.” Piccolo had to admit the shock on the child’s face was funny. Compared to humans, it did look odd he aged faster than them but he was demon after all.

“Are you like a dog?” Gohan suddenly asked.

“A what?!”

“I read dogs age faster than humans. A dog that’s one in dog years is actually fifteen in human years. Two is twenty-four, three would be twenty-eight. Eight would mean….” Gohan stopped to count the numbers in his head and his hands. He looked at Piccolo astonished, “You could be forty-eight years old in dog years. That’s twice as old as my Daddy!”

“SHUT UP!!!” Piccolo’s voice thundered so loud even birds in trees flew away from the noise. “WE ARE NOT HERE TO TALK ABOUT MY AGE!!! IT’S TIME TO START TRAINING SO GET READY!!”

Gohan jumped back. Piccolo was still scary. “Yes, sir!”

Training under Piccolo was harder than Gohan imagined. Piccolo showed no patience or kindness. No part of his body was spared a kick, a punch or frying from Piccolo’s eye beams. From sunup to sundown, Gohan and Piccolo fought. Piccolo cursed and screamed at him to go faster, strike harder and do better for the Saiyans will be ruthless and show no mercy.

Don’t make the same mistake as your father, Piccolo told him. Gohan wondered what Piccolo meant but he never explained.

Nighttime was Gohan’s free time. Piccolo ended lessons at sunset. It gave Gohan enough time to catch his fish for dinner. While the fish cooked, he gathered a bowl of fruit or mushrooms to go with it before it became completely dark. Piccolo only consumed water. Gohan offered to share his food with Piccolo but he rejected him saying he only needed water.

As Gohan ate his dinner, Piccolo decided to bring up something he noticed when Gohan caught his fish. “When did your tail grow back?”

“My tail? I don’t know,” he shrugged as he took another bite of his fish. “I just noticed it one day. Without Mommy to put a hole in pants, I just keep it in. It’s kind of uncomfortable but I’ve gotten used to it.” Gohan happily chewed his fish. His eyes lit up as he wondered if Piccolo could help him with something he wondered about. “I lost my tail my first night alone. I woke up one morning wearing these clothes, that sword and no tail. Do you know what happened?”

“No,” Piccolo lied. “I left you earlier remember.”

“Oh yeah,” Gohan recalled cheerily. “That night was really weird, too. I was lying on the cliff cold and hungry when two apples appeared. There wasn’t a tree so I don’t know where the apples came from.”

“You think I would know?” This child. He was too smart for his own good. “Your clothes.” His eyes swept over Gohan. They were torn and ragged in several places. “I think it’s time I give you some new clothes. Stand up.”

Gohan put down his fish and stood. With a grunt and flash of his eyes from Piccolo, Gohan’s tattered rags were replaced with a replica of Piccolo’s clothes except the cape. Gohan looked over his new clothes impressed. “This is great!” Gohan tugged his pants and new top. “Wow.” He smiled at Piccolo. “It’s just like your clothes!”

Piccolo smirked very pleased with himself. He figured it was time. After all, the kid earned it. He’s improved so much since they’ve begun training. He wasn’t crying anymore. He wasn’t whining over their training. He grew up a lot. “You look good, kid. No! Wait!” Piccolo protested. His eyes grew to saucers as Gohan suddenly threw his arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Mr. Piccolo! I love it!”

‘Mr. Piccolo?’ This child and his human emotions. He should rip the child’s arms off, scream at him to never do it again but instead, he let Gohan hugged him. So, this was a hug. A smile curved his lips. Hugs were kind of nice.

Gohan broke away. “Sorry, Mr. Piccolo.” The child rubbed the back of his neck shyly. Gohan thought Piccolo would scold him or slap him away but his teacher sat there like a statue.

Piccolo looked away. “It’s okay, kid. I didn’t mind the hug.”

“Good,” Gohan sat back down and picked up his fish. “I understand hugs are strange for you. Daddy didn’t hug a lot growing up. He thought Mommy was strange for wanting to hug him all the time but he said he grew to like them a lot and kisses, too.”

Piccolo knew he will regret doing this but he could help asking, “What’s a kiss?”

“It’s when you press your lips against something. Like this.” Gohan demonstrated by puckering his lips and pressing it against his fish. “Mommy press her lips against my cheeks and forehead. Mommy does the same thing with Daddy but sometimes they press their lips together.”

Piccolo closed his eyes and shook his head. He wished he hadn’t asked. “Gohan?”

“Yes, Mr. Piccolo?”

“If you ever try to kiss me, I’ll kill you.”

Piccolo didn’t say many words to him this morning. After drinking water, he sat alone, arms crossed, eyes closed in intense mediation. For the first time since they began training, there will be no training this morning. It was odd to break from routine but Gohan understood why. This was the day and they were all tense.

Yesterday, Gohan and Piccolo were in the middle of training when the skies suddenly darkened to night. Both were confused before Piccolo understood and let him know what’s happening.

Daddy was wished back by the dragon balls. Daddy was coming home. Gohan’s eyes watered with tears but he hid them from Piccolo for he knew his green teacher would slap him and tell him to stop crying.

However, Piccolo was too lost in his own thoughts to notice Gohan’s tears. He was troubled. “This isn’t a good thing, Gohan,” Piccolo told him. “Son Goku’s been wished back but this means the aliens are coming to Earth soon than we thought.”

That was true. It was one month shy of the year of his Daddy’s death and aliens impending arrival but if Daddy was coming home a month early that meant Daddy was stronger and ready to fight these aliens with them.

When the bright skies returned, Piccolo ended their training immediately. He told Gohan they will spend their remaining time resting their bodies for they needed all their strength against these aliens. Piccolo was worried but Gohan was happy. No more training and Daddy was coming home! He couldn’t wait!

Gohan caught himself a big fish and cooked it over a fire. He was so happy! This was the last day he will eat bland fish. Tomorrow he and Daddy will be home with Mommy eating her yummy meals. He couldn’t wait to see her, hug her and eat her cooking. He knew Daddy couldn’t wait it either. Finally, after a year, their family will be together again.

When Gohan awakened this morning, his excitement from last night was gone and his body was filled with nerves. Maybe Piccolo was rubbing off on him but he finally understood his teacher’s behavior from yesterday.

Worry crept into Gohan. Daddy was wished back almost twenty-fours ago. Shouldn’t he be back now? Gohan remembered his Daddy telling him he used the dragon balls to wish a friend’s father back to life. Daddy didn’t say anything about waiting a day for the wish to happen. So, why was it taking so long for Daddy to come back?

Gohan and Piccolo simultaneously jumped as if both were struck by a bolt of lightning.

This Ki they suddenly felt. It was enormous!

“So,” Piccolo rose. He looked in the direction both felt the massive power. “They’ve come at last.”

This Ki was bigger than Gohan expected. The aliens were finally here.

“How can the aliens be here before Daddy?” Gohan asked Piccolo. “Daddy was wished back yesterday.”

Piccolo snarled. “I don’t know. What the hell is taking Son so long?”

“Did the wish work like it should?” Gohan asked.

“How should I know?!” Piccolo snapped at Gohan. “I wasn’t the one who made the wish! Your father’s friends did!”

Gohan cringed at Piccolo’s yelling. Gohan thought the times for yelling had passed but there were occasions like now that proved him wrong. He opened his mouth to apologize but was suddenly knocked off his feet as the entire area shook as if rocked by a violent earthquake. Both looked ahead at an explosion coming from very far away. Neither knew how much time passed before the shakes ended and the skies returned to their normal blue color.

“Those damn aliens,” Piccolo cursed. “They wiped out an entire city.”

“Huh?” Gohan gasped. An entire city. Gohan shuddered. These aliens were so strong. ‘Daddy, where are you?’

“Gohan!” Piccolo snapped Gohan to attention. “The Saiyans. They’re coming to us. Get ready.”

“Oh…okay.” He couldn’t help sounding nervous. He was five years old. This was his first fight and these aliens he will face just destroyed an entire city.

An entire year went to this; defending the Earth against these two aliens. Gohan lived alone for six months. He was beaten so badly by Piccolo, he slept with cuts on his arms and legs and large bumps on his face that took days to heal. Each day he got stronger physically and mentally. Honestly, he rather be home with his books, playing with his parents and Grandpa but knew there was a purpose to this grueling year. It all went to this day. Defend the Earth. Protect Mommy. Gohan hoped he was truly ready.

As they waited, Daddy’s friend Krillin arrived. Piccolo didn’t care for his arrival but Gohan was happy to see a familiar face. The happy reunion was cut short at the sudden arrival of two figures in the sky. Their Ki was so powerful it sent a cold chill down Gohan’s spine. These aliens. They had tails like him. They had tails like that bad man that kidnapped him.

As the aliens descended from the sky, Gohan prepared himself for the fight that will come. It was great he and Piccolo will get help against these aliens from Krillin but when Gohan thought of this day, he didn’t imagine it would be him, Piccolo and Krillin. He thought his Daddy would be with him. With Daddy at his side, Gohan knew he could fight defeat these aliens, but without him….

‘Daddy, where are you?’

Part Nineteen: Alone: Goku

AN: Since Piccolo lived alone away from society, I don’t think he would know what hugs or kisses are. He might know about human intimacy or there is some kind of mating process but since he doesn’t spend his time around humans, he wouldn’t how it’s done so I imagined Piccolo confused and very unconformable when Gohan shows his affection and treats him like a friend. In the anime, Gohan tried to return home but I stuck with the manga where he waited for Piccolo.

#Gohan #son gohan #Goku #Chichi #Life With You #Part Eighteen #dragonball #Dragon Ball Z #Gochi #fanfiction

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