#uneasy presence that emotionally keeps me from doing things or something like that. just a fucking nuisance.
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stepfordgoth · 8 months ago
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Had another stupid semi-nightmare about my piece of shit brother...... Can he just kill himself already please, so that way at least in my dreams I can be like "wait you're dead this doesn't even bother me" lol
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agirlwithglam · 1 month ago
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Hey, Vanilla!💕
I'm having a problem at school. I'm already in the final stretch of this school year and I have a bit of an idea what's going on. There was this guy in my class I was with for almost a month, and it was really intense, my feelings for him. Everything seemed perfect between us, but after a few weeks, he just seemed to want to run away from me. He'd say he liked me, but then say the problem was him, and it was clear he had emotional baggage. I tried talking to him about it, but it seemed like he didn't want to fix things; he always dodged me.
I could tell you many other things that happened, but I don't want to drag it out. Okay, so we drifted apart, but I always held onto the hope he'd come back and we'd work things out (I feel silly now for thinking that back then). Then, one day, he just showed up, dating another girl (found out through a friend). I felt uneasy when I heard, like I'd been used, just another conquest for him. But, even upset, I moved on.
But then on Monday, he started attending classes again (he rarely went due to work). I can't stand his presence; being around him makes me anxious, to the point my hands shake like I'm freezing all day. Honestly, all I feel when he's near is disgust. My friend gets mad at him because she knows what he did and how he still checks me out when I'm distracted (she keeps me posted). I try to ignore it, but can't focus on my tasks.
I've only shared this with one friend because I feel like she understands me best. I'm telling you this because I want to know how to deal with this situation. Transferring schools isn't an option since I'm almost done with the year, as I mentioned earlier, and switching classrooms isn't possible either (I spend the whole afternoon in the same classroom 😭 because, in Latin America, we don't have different classrooms and materials for each subject).
I don't want to talk to him because being near him makes me nauseous, and I've already tried that when we were closer. The worst part is how calm he seems, like he's unaffected; it makes me angry, and I feel like crying – I can't explain it. Please, help me out Vanilla 😓
(Sorry for my bad English 🥹)
hi princess 💓
ok first of all, i need you to realise and understand that you deserve better. you understand? this boy obviously has some problems which are HIS. its not your job to help or save him okay? especially if he's treating you like this.
also honey, cry. just let it out. let yourself get super upset and tear up papers. embrace this part of being a girl.
and also, distract yourself. i know he's in your class and it feels like he's just in your face, as if trying to flaunt the fact that "he doesn't care", but guess what? it's none of your business! whether he cares or not, ITS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.
what you need to do is put your head down and focus on your own life. your friends, family, health, mindset, grades, career, future, YOURSELF. okay?
also one more thing, heal. maybe theres a part of you that relates or something which makes you feel so angry and emotionally intense around him. idk, im not a therapist or psychiatrist or anything but it might help to speak to a professional or search something up on a trustworthy website.
also off topic but your english? its so good i felt like i was reading a literal story/ book.
i apologise it isnt a lot to go on but i figured that it would be better for me to at least give you something bc if i left it in my drafts im afraid i may not get to it in a whiiiiiiiile.
xoxo, vanilla <3 keep shining!
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on ao3
All his life, Jaskier has only wanted to be enough. In forty years, he’s found a lot of people he can't please no matter how hard he tries, but never any who are willing to try in return. He's too loud, too annoying, too much. There are also a startling number of people who want him only as a placeholder - a bed warmer, an entertainer - before quickly ushering him from their lives once they've had their fill. As a child, it was devastating every time he was told to be quiet or to find someone else to talk to. As an adult, he thought he'd grown numb to disinterest or fleeting interest, but then he'd met Geralt.
With Geralt, he thought he had finally found someone who might keep him. Even if it wasn't perfect, even if Jaskier still found himself longing for more, Geralt allowed him to stay. His jabs didn't hurt the way others did and after some time they even started to sound fond coming from his Witcher. And he was truly happy for the first time in a long time.
But good things are not meant to last. Not at least, for Jaskier. And on the top of a mountain north of Barefield, Geralt had proved without a doubt that Jaskier wasn't numb to heartbreak.
But that seems like a lifetime ago, now.
When their paths had crossed again, it was by complete accident. Jaskier had been in Oxenfurt over the winter to regroup after a difficult autumn and he'd headed back out into the wilderness late. It was a routine of sorts, setting out on the road after winter, and he'd followed the Pontar east, heading nowhere in particular. The last person he had been expecting to come across was his Witcher.
But there they both were; Geralt with his child surprise in tow and Jaskier with nothing but the lute on his back and a notebook overflowing with verse after verse of heartbreak. Ciri, at least, had been happy to see him, but it was plain to see Geralt didn't share her enthusiasm. She is the reason for their (somewhat forced) reconciliation, not some change of heart or some grand apology; just a lost little girl clinging to whatever sense of normalcy she can find. And an unwilling father trying to give it to her.
Lucky for him, Jaskier is a familiar face to the young princess and Geralt had agreed when Ciri had asked for him to come along with them. And it's not all bad; travelling with companions is much less lonely than travelling alone and he and Geralt have made things work between them, enough at least, for Ciri's wellbeing.
But there's a feeling Jaskier gets right before he's ousted from someone's life, a tingling sort of ache right in the pit of his stomach, and he's been feeling that for months now.
Spring has faded into summer and their little group carries on. They keep to the path most nights, camping amongst the trees or tucked away under a shelf of rock or in an abandoned cave. Jaskier doesn't know the whole story, but he knows Nilfgaard is looking for Ciri and as good a protector as Geralt is, he's unlikely to defeat an entire Nilgaardian troop should they run into one. So he keeps them away from town unless they need to replenish their supplies or the weather is too bad to allow for sleeping outside. On those occasions, they prepare in advance. Geralt will go ahead and ensure the room is ready and whatever else they need, while Jaskier will wait behind and do what he can to disguise Ciri. She's the most important thing in Geralt's life now and if he can't make amends with the man himself, he'll do what he can to help Ciri. At the very least, it gives him a sense of purpose and keeps him from feeling quite so out of place with them.
Tonight is a camping night. Geralt is asleep already and Ciri appears to be if she isn't, but the grass is damp and cool beneath them and Jaskier can't get comfortable. In the morning, their bedding will be damp at best and that means packing damp bedding and sleeping on it again tomorrow night. He's mulling over the idea of hanging his bedroll over a tree branch and lying directly on the grass - at least it will save him one night of discomfort - when Geralt stirs across from him.
Jaskier looks up, instinctively alert, but Ciri is still peacefully asleep and there doesn't appear to be any sign of danger. Geralt's face is twisted though, pinched tight in pain or fear and Jaskier recognizes the expression. For years, he'd been there to soothe Geralt’s discomfort, to curl up against him and run a hand up his chest until his breathing evened out again and the pain eased from his face. Geralt’s nightmares have never been uncommon, but since joining up with him again, Jaskier has noticed a marked increase of uneasy nights for the Witcher.
But he's no longer in a place to soothe him and so he watches regretfully as Ciri blinks awake and props herself up to look at him. She crawls from her own bedroll and in a practiced motion, slips between Geralt's arms, pressing herself up against his chest. She whispers something that Jaskier can't hear and he squeezes his eyes shut as Geralt hums sleepily against her hair.
He aches to fill that space against him once more, to be able to soothe the turmoil in Geralt’s heart, to give Geralt anything. He used to be the one who could ease his pain, but he's been replaced. And he can't blame Geralt for it; he was never a very good travel companion, but he did try and he'd like to be able to try again, but that doesn't seem to be the way things are going for him.
"Who is she?" Ciri asks, only just loud enough to Jaskier to hear her. "Who's Renfri?"
"I don't know," he breathes, low to keep his voice steady, "Geralt met her before me and he doesn't talk about it."
Ciri makes a disappointed sound and Jaskier doesn't have to be able to see her face to know she's scowling at the man wrapped around her. He would be too. Geralt does so much to protect the ones he loves and yet refuses to accept anything in return. Jaskier understands the frustration and once upon a time, he'd developed a method of tricking Geralt into doing things for himself, making it seem like it was for the good of someone else. He makes a mental note to tell Ciri about it.
Once Ciri and Geralt are settled once more, Jaskier slips from his bedroll, picking it up and hanging it in the hopes that it will dry some before morning. He's awake now, his head swimming with things unsaid and what ifs and he knows he won't sleep any time soon, so there's no point in trying.
He crosses the camp as silently as he can to where the horses are tethered and he settles himself between the thick roots of a tree, leaning back against the trunk. Roach leans down to him, nudging his shoulder and Jaskier looks up to find both of them looking at him, Jaskier's own horse with her head over Roach's back to see what he's doing. She gives a snort of confusion and Jaskier just looks up at her with a forced smile that does apparently nothing to appease her curiosity.
For some time, he just sits there, wondering where exactly he went wrong in his life until eventually, cold and emotionally exhausted, sleep overtakes him.
At first, Jaskier had hoped that this distance between them was just a side-effect of Geralt adjusting to parenthood and he tried to help in any way he could. But he can't teach Ciri to fight and Geralt knows more about herbs and how to use them than he does, and otherwise, Ciri is mostly self-sufficient. Other than her magic, which Jaskier soon learns, she's being trained in as well.
Yennefer blows back into his life in a big way on a sunny afternoon in mid-summer. She seems softer than the last time they'd seen each other and she smiles when she spots Ciri practicing with a wooden sword next to the river. Jaskier has learned well enough in the past not to disturb her, so he keeps quiet and continues with his task of gathering firewood. He hadn't understood at the time, why Geralt had wanted to make camp so early in the day, but it seems clear now that this was an arranged meeting place and he doesn't suspect they'll be leaving again before morning.
So while Geralt is busy with Yen and Ciri, Jaskier may as well make himself useful. Maybe he can't be emotionally available to Geralt the way he used to, but he can still help. So he sets off deeper into the trees, intent on finding enough wood to keep them going for the evening. But when he returns to the smell of smoke and a crackling fire, his heart sinks. As he sets his gathered firewood down, his only solace is that no one seems to have noticed him and he's able to slip away again quietly.
Yen travels with them after that. She doesn't seem concerned about Jaskier's presence and, on occasion, she'll even speak to him without sounding inconvenienced. It's more than she's ever offered in the past and considering his tenuous position with them, Jaskier's almost pleased about it.
But with Yen comes more training for Ciri, this time in magic, which means she has less time to listen to Jaskier play or tell him about her adventures with Geralt. Which is fine; she's still young and she needs to be able to understand her power as much as she needs to be able to fight with a sword. So Jaskier takes another step back.
After the mountain incident, Jaskier had hoped someday that things might go back to normal for him and Geralt. Now, despite Yennefer's improved attitude toward him, their relationship seems tenser than ever. And after a couple of weeks travelling with Yen, Jaskier starts to wonder if he really fits with them anymore.
But he can barely complain, what with Ciri having lost everyone she ever knew and loved. And Yen's history. And Geralt's inability to enter certain towns without being shouted at and called a monster. In relation, Jaskier's problems are not that bad. It doesn't stop it from hurting, but it stops him from talking about it because he doesn't really have a good enough reason to be upset. And his relationship with Geralt is already strained at best, he doesn't want to make things more complicated between them and end up losing Geralt again, maybe for good this time.
Only keeping things to himself is harder than it seems because Jaskier constantly feels unwanted and unneeded. Because Geralt has Yen and Ciri, Ciri has her training with both of them, and Yen never really much cared for him to begin with. So where is he supposed to fit in with that? What can he do for them that someone else isn't already doing? Everything he used to do for Geralt has been taken over by someone new and as the days drag on, Jaskier begins to wonder if he's not just hindering them by tagging along.
But where would he go without him?
They're all sitting around the fire one night after Ciri's gone to bed and Jaskier's writing in his notebook, trying to force the lyrics to a ballad that just doesn't want to come. He has the tune, but he can't quite get the words right, so he hums under his breath, trying to work through it as Geralt pokes at the fire.
"Jaskier," Geralt grunts and Jaskier looks up at him, surprised and a little nervous. "Be quiet, Ciri's asleep."
"Oh," he says, "right."
He shuts his notebook and measures his breathing, trying to keep from getting too upset. It makes perfect sense that Geralt would ask him to be quiet, Ciri doesn't sleep well a lot of the time and he shouldn't disturb her when she does. It still hurts, but he packs his things back up and turns in for the night.
Geralt seems unfazed but Jaskier lays out his bedroll right at the edge of their camp and settles in. He doesn't know what else to do with himself; whatever he and Geralt once has is clearly gone now, everything is about Geralt and Ciri now or just about Geralt, off on his own to provide for a child he never wanted. There’s no room in his life for Jaskier now that he has Ciri.
As he lies down, he tries to think back to before Geralt, but he doesn't remember what he did with himself back then. He was young and foolish and a very different person than he is now. And even after, when he and Geralt were separated but still friendly, Jaskier would write about him or sing about him and tell stories about their adventures together. But it was all about Geralt. For two decades of his life, everything centred around Geralt and now he's faced with the prospect of losing him completely.
Geralt is a simple man; he needs food and coin and sex - most nights he won't even blink at sleeping out in the rain. Jaskier can offer him none of those things when they're staying away from towns, so why is he still here? He wants what they used to have when he could at least keep Geralt company during the long nights. Now, he can't even offer him that. Things can't go back to the way they used to be because Geralt has Ciri now and Yen is back in his life and Jaskier just... is.
And every time he tries to think about what he did wrong, he can only picture Geralt's face on the top of that mountain, how angry he sounded when he told Jaskier he wanted him gone.
Jaskier looks at Ciri, curled under Geralt's spare blanket, and he knows Geralt blames him for this responsibility that he never wanted. And maybe it is his fault because Geralt never would have been at the banquet otherwise. And maybe Yen leaving was his fault, too because Geralt never would have met her if Jaskier had just left the damn djinn bottle alone. Maybe all of this is his own fault. Jaskier lays his head down, fighting back tears as he wonders how he could have single-handedly ruined the one good thing that life ever gave him.
Summer fades into autumn and things only get worse.
Yen joins them again when the air starts to cool and Jaskier finds the only thing left for him to do is to distract Ciri when Yen and Geralt disappear off on their own. He doesn't want to think about what they get up to and he's certain Ciri doesn't want to know. The pair of them share a tent, which Jaskier is thankful for only because it means he shares with Ciri and he would prefer that to sharing with either Geralt or Yen. Ciri trusts him and when they're alone she still likes to sit and listen to him sing, plus the one perk of travelling with a sorceress is extravagant magic tents.
When it starts to get really cold, Jaskier's thoughts turn back to Oxenfurt. If he's going to go back for the winter, he needs to leave soon before it gets too cold to travel. He knows Geralt is taking Yen and Ciri to Kaer Morhen with him and he doesn't think he could stand spending the entire winter with them, even if he was invited.
He gives it a couple days' consideration before deciding he can't bear this any longer. He'll go to Oxenfurt for the winter and come spring he'll just have to figure out how to move on with his life because all of this is too much. Ciri has both Yen and Geralt now, and if he thought being in love with Geralt was hard before, it's nothing compared to how it feels now.
He's in the middle of organizing his things for the long ride out to the coast when Ciri finds him. She comes up and plops herself next to him, peeking over to see what he's doing.
"We're not leaving yet," she says, "why are you packing?"
"I have to go."
"You aren't coming to Kaer Morhen with us?"
"No."
He doesn't elaborate because he can already feel his chest contract and he has to be able to hold it together for a little longer. Ciri huffs and as she walks away, Jakier's hands still on his pack. He doesn't want to leave her and he feels bad about it, but it will be better for all of them in the long run.
Jaskier finishes packing and getting Buttercup saddled and he's just about ready to leave when Geralt approaches him. Jaskier hasn't spoken to him about leaving, but since he and Yen rarely talk to him, he didn't think he had to. But Geralt rests a hand on his forearm and when Jaskier turns to look at him, he seems conflicted.
"Ciri wants you to come with us," is all he says and Jaskier deflates a little. He was so close to making a clean break, but Ciri has lost so much and if she wants him there, who is he to deny her a little familiarity? He doesn't say anything to Geralt, but he unslings his lute from his back and leans it up against the tree and it seems to be enough.
But they travel to Kaer Morhen and once Jaskier is over the stunning scenery, it's just more of the same only warmer. The guest room in the keep is spacious and the fireplace is more than enough to keep him warm, but he stands at the top of the stairs and as he looks around, his shoulders slump. He and Geralt have always shared a room, even when an abundance of coin would have made it easy to rent two rooms. Jaskier didn't really expect to be sharing with Geralt after everything but knowing it wasn't even a thought hurts.
He reminds himself that he's doing this because Ciri wanted it and urges his feet to move, crossing to the bed in the centre of the room. At least when he needs a place to escape to, he can come here and not want for warmth or inspiration. His balcony has a beautiful view of the valley and so long as he's willing to fill it himself, there's a large tub to one side of the room. He's stayed in much worse places all in all, and he's grown accustomed to spending a lot of time alone. Maybe it won't be so bad.
But once everyone has arrived, he realizes he was wrong. The Witchers are friendly enough, even the two from other schools who Jaskier has never heard of before. Ciri tells him one of them is Lambert's boyfriend and it was a big scandal last year when he showed up. Jaskier's heart just sinks, realizing even Ciri is included in all of this and he knows nothing of them. He's not even sure which one Lambert is because Geralt has never been a very descriptive person. It’s just another reminder of what he’s lost and he forces a smile to keep from showing his feelings.
Watching them all finally gathered together in the main hall, Jaskier realizes he's made a mistake in coming. He felt like an outsider with their little group travelling the wilderness, but it's nothing to the way he feels now. Like an intruder, an interloper who's snuck his way in when no one wanted him. Even the reminder that Ciri asked for him doesn't help now because Geralt has his old family and his new family and what could a bunch of Witchers and a sorceress possibly want with a bard?
He has enough rations left in his pack that he skips supper the first night. He can't bear to listen to Geralt talking to everyone when Jaskier can barely get a few words out of him these days. Some things just aren't destined to be. Sometimes it's better to let something die than it is to suffer meaninglessly.
Jaskier slips away up to his room and goes to sit on the balcony. The weather is still fairly decent, warm enough that the cold doesn't get to him until after dark. It's only when he returns inside that he realizes he only has one lit candle and it's too dark to look around now. So he strips out of his clothes and climbs into the cold bed, blowing out his single candle before curling in on himself and shutting his eyes.
In the morning, Geralt and Eskel set out to clear some mine or other of kikimores. Jaskier doesn't come down from his room until later that evening and the only joy he gets from it is catching the tail end of Eskel's story about the mine. But that doesn't last long, so he makes his way down the halls because if he's going to be staying here a while, he might as well get to know the place.
But barely half an hour into his exploration and just as his nerves are starting to settle, Jaskier comes upon a room with an open door. He doesn't look in, but he hears Geralt's voice, grumbling about something or other and then Yen mumbling, just get in the damn bath so I can wash this shit out of your hair and something inside him that was just barely holding on shatters.
That one hurts more than anything. It had taken him years for Geralt to be comfortable enough to let him stick around while he was in the bath. Longer, even, to let Jaskier take care of him the way Yen apparently does now. Something sticks in his throat and as soon as he rounds the corner, he slumps against the wall, choking back a sob.
All he ever wanted was to love him, in whatever way Geralt would let him, but this is almost worse than being told to leave. This time, Geralt won't even do him the service of telling him he wants him gone, this time he'll just replace him slowly but surely, finding someone new to do all the things Jaskier once did for him. This time, Jaskier doesn't need to be told to leave; he can tell when he's not wanted.
He waits three days, ensuring he has enough supplies, before seeking out Yen. She won't care enough to tell anyone right away, but she cares for Ciri, so if Ciri asks after him, she'll know. Plus, if he tells Geralt he’s leaving, he'd have to see the utter lack of emotion on his face, and he couldn't bear that.
Jaskier makes his way down through the courtyard without interruption, stopping at the stables to bid farewell to his horse. He hasn't had her long, but she's been good to him and he hopes she'll be just as good for Ciri.
For hours, Jaskier walks, recalling the path from memory, then just as it gets dark, it starts to snow. And once it starts, it doesn't stop and he's forced to take shelter in the first place he can find. It's cold and hard to trudge through the deepening snow and he didn't consider how hard it would be to find food up in the mountains. But none of that matters because the only place he can find to sleep is a cave, the entrance just barely visible to him in the dark, and when its resident comes home, he's liable to be eaten before he has to set out again.
He tries to build a fire, but the only wood he can find are the small trees just outside the mouth of the cave and they're soaked from the snow. Bitterly, he thinks that it's never this difficult for Geralt and at once, something clicks into place.
This isn't his life. The reason he doesn't fit is because he doesn’t belong. He tried to make it work and maybe for a little while he did, but he belongs in the city, not out in the wilderness. The reason he doesn't fit is because he's trying to be something that he's not. He's a bard, not an adventurer.
With a sigh, he sinks to his knees and wonders if he'll make it through the night. Maybe he should have waited at the keep until spring. He's never been out on his own like this - not so far north in unfamiliar territory -, but even now the thought of staying up there with Geralt and Yen makes his stomach turn. So he pulls his knees up against his chest and wraps his blanket around him. He tries to sleep, but the wind howls and snow blows in through the mouth of the cave and he just ends up damp and cold and miserable.
Jaskier hadn't realized he was asleep until a sound near the mouth of the cave wakes him. Assuming it's whatever lives here, he's thankful that at least the cold will no longer be a problem for him. He doesn't want to die, but being eaten by a monster is better than slowly freezing to death. But when he opens his eyes, there's a person at the mouth of the cave, not a monster. The first thing he thinks is who the hell is out in this storm? but it doesn't take long before he has an answer.
"Jaskier?" Fuck. "Jaskier, are you in there?" He wonders if he's quiet if the monster might come back and eat him after all.
"Yeah," he mumbles and it's all he can manage, but he knows Geralt will hear. And he does. And he pushes through the snowdrift, breathing heavily as he drops to his knees before Jaskier and hauls him into his arms.
"What were fucking thinking?" he growls and Jaskier winces at the anger in his voice, but then he's being pulled forward against Geralt's chest. "Idiot. You're frozen."
"Snow," Jaskier mumbles, not quite sure what to do with his arms. He doesn't know what's happening, but it ages before Geralt moves again, though he never stops telling Jaskier he's an idiot. That much, at least, feels familiar.
When he does finally pull away, Jaskier can barely see him in the dark but he knows Geralt can see him. Which means he can see his puffy eyes and he probably knows how scared and confused he is right now. And he hates it. He wants to push him away, but Geralt is warm and Jaskier is freezing and he finds himself swaying back toward his body. And after a quick once-over, Geralt lets him.
Once he's apparently satisfied that Jaskier isn't in immediate danger, he settles against the wall of the cave and pulls him into his lap.
"Why didn't you light a fire?" he asks and most of the anger has left his voice, replaced with soft concern.
"Couldn't get it lit," Jaskier shrugs, "wet wood."
For a while, Geralt is quiet again, tugging Jaskier's blanket up around him and just holding him. It doesn't occur to him until much later that Geralt is trying to get his body temperature up.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Hmm?" Jaskier had nearly drifted off, wrapped in the warmth of Geralt's body, but the question startles him awake again.
"Why did you leave without telling anyone?"
"I told Yen," he offers, but he knows it's weak.
"You told-" Geralt scoffs, exasperated and Jaskier can't figure out what the big deal is. No one wanted him there, anyway.
"Why are you here?" he counters, "why didn't you just stay in the keep?"
Geralt stills and Jaskier turns to look at him, knowing he won't be able to see much in the dark, but it feels better having this conversation face-to-face.
"Why the fuck do you think, Jaskier?" And Jaskier just looks at him because he doesn't know. He can't fathom what brought Geralt out here in the storm. Because even if he did come to retrieve him out of some kind of sense of responsibility, surely he wouldn't risk leaving Ciri without a caretaker. When he doesn't answer, Geralt gets very quiet.
"Where were you going?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Oxenfurt."
"You'd die before you got there," Geralt exclaims, the anger returning to his voice with a vengeance.
"I brought provisions. Where's Ciri?"
"With Eskel and Lambert. Why would you just leave without telling anyone?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes in this context, that anyone means me.
Jaskier pulls away from him, irritation winning out over the desire to be warm. "Because I didn't really think anyone would care," he says "I don't belong anymore, not since-" he sighs and readjusts so he's sitting across from Geralt. "What happened on the mountain can't be fixed, Geralt. And I told Yen, I figured she'd pass the message along."
Geralt lets out an exasperated laugh and Jaskier wants to slap him for it. He never should have come up here in the first place.
"Jaskier, if anything from that day is irreparable, it's my relationship with Yen. We only travel together because of Ciri, because it's beneficial for both of us."
"So why do you keep me around then? What good am I?" He doesn't mean for it to come out, but it does and he holds his ground, hoping he looks more determined than he feels.
"You're my friend, Jaskier. And Ciri loves you. You're the only one who feeds Roach those little sugar cubes she likes so much. You know, she gets snippy with me now if I don't have them for her. I even think Yen is beginning to enjoy your company." Geralt's voice softens and he reaches out, tentatively brushing Jaskier's hair away from his face.
"What about you?" Jaskier asks, trying to keep the unsteadiness from his voice.
"Do you really think if I didn't want you around I would have let you follow me out of Posada? Roach could easily have outrun you if I wanted to." His hand slips to cup his cheek and Jaskier barely resists shutting his eyes. It feels too close to intimacy, but he knows Geralt better than to think this is anything real. But he's forgotten what it feels like to be touched so softly and when Geralt bundles him back into his arms, Jaskier sinks into it despite his reservations.
"Jaskier," he breathes right next to his ear. "That day on the mountain, I was angry because Yen was right about me and I didn't want to face it. I had to take responsibility and then you-" he exhales deeply, tucking his head into the crook of Jaskier's neck. "I was struggling with my… feelings. I felt like I'd somehow forced you to stay with me the way I did with Yen. I couldn't bear to hear the same things from you so I-"
"Pushed me away?" Jaskier asks.
"Hmm,” Geralt says and his voice is tense with understanding. “You left tonight because of me."
"I didn't think you wanted me around anymore," he mumbles and it's not until Geralt shifts that Jaskier realizes he's got both hands fisted in his cloak. "I thought I'd save myself having to hear it from you. I didn't want anyone's pity."
Geralt hauls him up into his lap so the only way for him to sit comfortably is to wrap his legs around Geralt's waist. For a moment, that ferocity is back, but then Geralt tugs the blanket tighter around him, holds him closer.
"Why wouldn't I want you around?"
"You have Yen and Ciri and the other Witchers, what could you possibly want me for? Everything I used to do for you-" he chokes on a sob and curses himself for it before burying his face in Geralt's shoulder. "Everything I did for you, someone else does now."
"What are you talking about?"
"Just... everything. All the things I used to do for you. When you don't sleep because of your nightmares, Ciri goes to you. When I tried to get wood for the fire it was already done when I got back-" he sighs and shifts away from Geralt a little. "The other night in the bath, Yen-"
"Yen?"
"I heard you," Jaskier says, "you don't have to hide it now. I know. It doesn't matter that much I just... I don't know what I can do for you when everyone else is doing what I used to do."
"Jaskier you don't need to do anything. You're my friend. And Yen- that's not what you thought it was. "
Jaskier isn't quite sure what to do with any of that, but when Geralt tugs him close again, he lets himself be held and buries his face in his shoulder. Geralt allows it, letting one hand slip up between his shoulder blades and bringing him closer. They stay like that for some time and Jaskier's heart aches for more than he should want. This is so much more than he ever expected but now with Geralt wrapped around him, he wants more.
When Geralt finally pulls himself away, he regards Jaskier for a moment before running a hand down his arm.
"Are you warm enough," he asks and Jaskier nods because even if he wasn't, he can't take much more of this before he breaks and says or does something he'll regret. "We should get you back to the keep and into a warm bath."
The idea of a bath is tempting, but more so is the idea of staying here in Geralt's arms for as long as he's allowed. Stil, Jaskier lets himself be pulled to his feet and led toward the mouth of the cave.
Their return to the keep is quiet and Jaskier isn't sure anyone else even realized he was gone until Geralt pauses and doubles back on himself, heading toward his own room rather than the guest room.
"Eskel's got a bath ready," he says by way of explanation.
"How did he-" Jaskier starts but he realizes the answer before he can finish. They were probably keeping watch, waiting for Geralt to return.
"I told him to," Geralt says, approaching the door and stepping back so Jaskier can enter the room first. It's darker than the room he's staying in, but there's a balcony off the far wall that lets in a little light, and candles placed on every surface. The bath is at the right side of the room and Geralt guides him toward it.
"It shouldn't be too hot," he says, "so it doesn't shock your body, but there's more water boiling by the fire if you need to warm it up."
"Thank you," Jaskier whispers. Guilt curdles in his gut and he pulls the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders. He's still cold and eager to get into the tub, but more than anything he's dreading having to get undressed in front of Geralt. Luckily, he's spared that embarrassment.
Geralt claps a hand on his shoulder, lingering just a moment too long. "I'll find you something to eat," he says, "try to warm up."
Jaskier nods dumbly, waiting until Geralt has left the room to let the blanket slip from his shoulders. To say he doesn't understand would be an understatement. He's never seen Geralt like this, not even with Ciri, and a part of him wonders if he didn't freeze to death in that cave and this is some sort of weird afterlife. But the water is hot against his skin, a little too hot to begin with and his skin tingles as he slips into the bath and shuts his eyes. And Geralt's hands felt real, right down to the callouses. But it all seems a bit off.
Jaskier has been hypothermic before, more than once, and it wasn't like this. He's left Geralt in much worse ways than this and it's never ended with him in a bath drawn especially for him. But Jaskier isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he warms himself up without even having to use the extra water and upon getting out of the tub, realizes all his clothes are cold and soaked.
Frowning, he looks around the room and spots Geralt's pack dumped on a chair in the corner. Surely, Geralt wouldn't mind if he just borrowed some of his clothes. Just for a little while. Jaskier is the one who washes them anyway - or he used to be. His heart sinks again, but he pushes away the feeling, crossing to pull clean clothes out of the pack.
They fit him surprisingly well and they smell like Geralt which is both comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. The blanket is wet now too, so he hangs that with his clothes where they won't drip on anything important and heads down to the kitchen.
Geralt isn't there, but he can hear him shuffling around on the opposite side of the fire, so Jaskier settles himself at one of the tables to wait patiently. He doesn't hear Eskel approach, so he must already have been there, talking to Geralt, but their conversation suddenly gets louder before something crashes to the floor.
Jaskier keeps quiet, trying not to listen in because he knows it's not his place, but they're arguing in earnest now and Geralt sounds passive and ashamed in a way that's very unlike him. Then there's a grunt from Geralt and Eskel says, "you didn't fucking tell him," like he’s only just realizing this. Jaskier focuses very hard on a knot in the tabletop.
It's an accusation, not a question and it's followed by heavy footsteps coming toward him. He tenses up, not prepared to deal with an angry Geralt, but it's Eskel who comes through the door. He pauses when he sees Jaskier, gives him a sympathetic sort of look and mumbles something that sounds like goodnight before continuing onward up the stairs.
Jaskier sits and waits and eventually, Geralt appears through the doorway with two bowls of stew and rolls. He sits next to him, pushing one of the bowls toward him and Jaskier tries not to show just how hungry he is. They sit in companionable silence, which is more than he can say for the last few weeks and Jaskier settles. When they're finished, Geralt is the one to speak first, angling his body so he's facing Jaskier but not looking directly at him.
"It's getting late," is all he says but Jaskier understands. He moves to take their bowls away but Geralt rests a hand on his wrist and takes the bowls from him. "I'll meet you upstairs."
Jaskier nods slowly, not quite understanding. He makes for his own room, climbing up as far as the staircase goes and pushing the door open. He's quite frankly exhausted and doesn't even think to get changed before climbing up onto the bed. The snow on the balcony lights the room well enough, but he fumbles with a candle for a few minutes anyway before giving up on that idea. He's alone in the dim room for a few minutes before Geralt knocks on the door and Jaskier mumbles for him to come in.
Geralt comes to sit on the side of the bed and Jaskier's heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest. He doesn't know what to say or even how to process what they've already said, but in his need to fill the silence, he blurts out, "why do you and Yen share a tent?" And it's the last thing he means to say and he does want to know, but this is not at all the time.
Only Geralt smiles. It's a small thing, barely a quirk of his lips, but it's there and for the first time in forever, Jaskier feels comfortable in his presence.
"Because Ciri asked to share with you. You're a good memory for her, one of the few she has of home."
"Oh."
"Before you came back, she shared with Yen." Geralt looks down at him and the almost-smile turns to confusion. "You're wearing my clothes."
"Mine were wet, I can change if-"
"No," Geralt interrupts and Jaskier can feel his eyes on him, taking him in, "it's fine."
"Oh. Right. I'll wash them in the morning then."
"You don't have to, they look good on you. You should sleep now, though. Goodnight, Jaskier."
Jaskier's heart thuds. He doesn't want to let Geralt go before he gets a chance to finish their conversation from earlier. "Geralt?" he asks and the Witcher turns back to him in the dark. "If it's not too much to ask, could you stay? Just for a little bit?"
Geralt doesn't say anything, but he comes back, pulling off his boots before climbing up onto the bed next to him. He lays still and Jaskier doesn't reach out and touch, as much as he wants to.
Geralt is the first to move, shifting onto his side and reaching into the space between them.
"Can I-?" he asks and Jaskier nods without hesitation, unsure of what's being requested. Seemingly pleased with his consent, Geralt's hand slips over his side and around his back, nudging him a little closer as he gets comfortable. Jaskier doesn't know what to do with himself.
It's too much and not enough all at once and he wants to pull away, but he doesn't want to break this moment of trust. So he pushes through, presses into the touch and tips his head down to keep Geralt from seeing the mess of emotions that are sure to be plain on his face. Not that he wouldn't be able to feel them anyway, but still.
"I'm sorry things have been different since you came back," he breathes. "Sorry if I made you feel..."
"Unwanted?" Jaskier offers and Geralt winces at the word, his arm pulling just a little tighter around Jaskier's back.
"Mmm."
"Are we... okay?" Jaskier asks tentatively, finally risking a glance up at Geralt's face.
"As long as you don't do that again," Geraly mumbles, "you... scared me tonight. I've been thinking so much about how to protect Ciri that I didn't consider losing you."
"You won't," Jaskier promises. "I won't." He moves closer, testing Geralt's limits, but his guard seems to be down tonight; Jaskier presses right up against him before Geralt so much as moves. And then, it's only to hold him closer.
He must have been genuinely worried, Jaskier thinks, to allow this right now. Which is the only reason he says the next thing that comes out of his mouth.
"I didn't mean to worry you," he says softly, slipping one hand up to cautiously rest against Geralt's chest. "I didn't think-" he shakes his head, pushing away the thoughts, "well, I didn't think you would come out after me. I'm sorry."
"Maybe..." Geralt starts then turns his head away like the words are difficult for him. Jaskier braces himself for something he doesn't want to hear, trying hard not to pull away defensively, but Geralt surprises him. "Maybe we both need to be better at saying what we mean."
Instead of drawing away, Jaskier slips his hand up to rest against the side of Geralt's neck. This is absolutely uncharted territory for them and he's not quite sure what to do here. What do you do when the least communicative person you know says you should talk about things more. But he's not wrong and Jaskier's touch seems to relax him a little, so armed with that information, Jaskier presses forward.
"You're right," he says. "So if we're going to... say what we mean, I should tell you that all of this with Ciri and Yen and everyone up here - it scares me, Geralt." Geralt opens his mouth to speak, but Jaskier just shakes his head. "Please just let me finish. Yen is a sorceress. Even if your relationship with her is over, she will always be a part of your life. Ciri has powers I can't even begin to comprehend. Your brothers and the others- they're Witchers, Geralt. All of them will be with you for years to come and all of them have been with you - barring, Ciri - for years. How can I live up to that? How can I possibly find a place in your life when soon I'll be gone and they'll just-" he chokes on the last word and can't bring himself to continue.
Words are his livelihood and yet when he needs them the most, they seem to fail him entirely. Luckily for him, Geralt is accustomed to non-verbal communication and understands. But in the faint light of the room, he looks like he wants to retreat, to pull away and forget everything he said before. He doesn't and Jaskier realizes this is just as difficult for Geralt as it is for him.
"Jaskier," he shuts his eyes and Jaskier holds his breath. For one awful moment, everything is silent, then Geralt speaks again, quiet and soft. "Everyone else in my life has been brought to me by forces outside of my control. I never chose to become a Witcher, to be brought here as a child as raised with dozens of other boys who would never make it to adulthood. I never intended to bind myself to Yen - Djinn are tricky and bend wishes to their own amusement. And Ciri- how was I to know Pavetta was already with child when I claimed the law of surprise?"
Jaskier wants to remind him of the multiple other occasions in which the law of surprise has gifted someone a child, but he doubts this is the place to bring up Geralt's mistakes.
"But you," Geralt continues, speaking slower like each word is pulled unwillingly from his lips. "You came to me on a whim. I could have left you in Posada, ridden away and left you in the tavern." He sighs, tips his head up so his forehead presses against Jaskier's. "But I chose not to. I chose to let you come with me. And I regretted it, in the beginning."
"I certainly hope you said nicer things to Yen when you found each other again."
Geralt huffs a laugh, just the fainted sound in the dark, but his breath is warm against Jaskier's cheek. "Let me finish."
"Do you promise you'll say nicer things about me?"
"Hmm, maybe."
"Fine then, finish your story."
"I regretted it, in the beginning, but it was still my own choice, mine to regret. Over time I grew... attached. That first time you left me was the first time I really felt lonely since undergoing the trials."
"You leave your brothers every spring," Jaskier says, an attempt to mask the hammering of his heart.
"I do, but so is the life of a Witcher. It's the way it's supposed to be. There's no room for loneliness. There were no rules attached to you and so when you left it seemed too quiet."
"Are you... are you saying you like having me around?" Jaskier asks, the hopeful tone in his voice a backdrop to the thudding in his chest.
"Yes," Geralt replies, "I dread the winters when I come up here alone."
"Then why do you? And why did you say Ciri wanted me to come?"
Geralt makes a noise that sounds something like embarrassment and Jaskier's sure if he could see properly, he would be blushing.
"I'm sorry," he says again, "I couldn't ask because if you said no I- but I knew you'd never say no to her. She told me you were leaving and I knew if I let you go I wouldn't see you again."
"You idiot, you could have just asked me. I follow you into swamps and monster dens and worse- why would I say no to spending the winter here?" He shifts to run his fingers along Geralt's jaw and sighs. "You're my-"
"Friend?" Geralt offers and the sound of that word on his lips makes something warm swell in Jaskier's chest, but he remembers his promise to speak plainly.
"More than that" he admits. He ducks his chin, unable to look at Geralt while he speaks, this time. "I tried so hard to just be a good friend to you, but it's always been more than that. I don't expect anything from you, of course, but you said we should-" He's cut off by gentle fingers tracing the line of his jaw and he shuts his eyes, waiting for the inevitable downfall. But it doesn't come.
"Jaskier," he breathes, "if you're worried about your place in my life, this is it." Geralt tips his head up and their lips brush against each other just for a second, but Jaskier is certain his heart stops beating altogether.
"Geralt?" he whispers but it comes out as an uncertain whimper. Geralt hums in response, shifting to cradle Jaskier's head in one hand, and he presses in again.
This time Jaskier knows it's intentional. The lips against his own are warm and soft, whispering silent promises and asking for the same in return. Jaskier responds tentatively, but as soon as he does, Geralt is gathering him up against him and his uncertainty vanishes.
He's seen Geralt kiss before, but this is nothing like that. Geralt kisses him with a passion that speaks of years of repression and guilt, begging for forgiveness for something Jaskier hadn't realized he was even doing. And Jaskier forgives, tangling his fingers in Geralt's hair and submitting readily when Geralt rolls him onto his back.
Geralt gets a knee between his thighs and Jaskier's breath catches as Geralt's hand slips under the hem of his borrowed shirt. He'd be more than happy to lay here and let Geralt kiss him senseless, but when Geralt's teeth graze against his lip, Jaskier groans, effectively shattering the moment.
Geralt draws back, looking down on him and Jaskier slips his hands around the back of his neck. "Do you mean that?" Jaskier asks, “about me belonging with you?” Geralt nods.
"Of course, if you want to leave, I'll take you back to Oxenfurt, but I'd prefer if you stayed here."
"Right here?" Jaskier asks, sprawling under him against the mattress.
"Right here," Geralt confirms with a soft smile. "With me."
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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago
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Smart Girl (J.JK x reader)🔞🌼☁️🎀
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Good Girl!AU, Fluff, Angst, smut (what did you expect?)
Warnings: a bit of separation anxiety and a small panic attack sprinkled into it, but y’all know me by now, Reader is kinda lost without her Koo and emotionally a MESS (TM), sad boy Jungkook, Grumpy Jungkook, a fight between the marshmallow couple yikes, Dom/sub dynamics, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Oral (m receiving), manhandling, mild DDLG themes, reader is a bit bratty this time and koo is having none of it, slight hair pulling, I think that’s it? Jungkoo is just the best boyfriendo ever okay
Summary: Jungkook loves how dependent you are on him. You however start to feel a bit different about it when you overhear a coworker of yours, who’s coincidentally also someone he’d slept with in the past, talking about how childish and most of all how much of a burden you are. You try to show Jungkook how independent and strong you can be on your own. And fail miserably. But luckily he's always gonna be there, won't he?
Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl
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You don't even know how it started. Maybe it was when you'd told Alex how Jungkook had just recently thrown your small pink plastic chair away, which you had used to reach the highest shelve in the kitchen so that you didn't have to ask him. Truth be told he'd said he didn't do it, yet his smirk afterwards told other words. He was always like this- it was as if he fed his own pride every time he helped you with even the smallest of things. Soohyeon had sighed at that, and you had simply asked what was wrong.
"What I'm saying is, Y/N sweety, maybe he just does it because you seem so lost all the time." Up until now, you and Soohyeon had gotten along quite well, considering the fact that she'd revealed to you early on when Jungkook had picked you up from your work that she and him had a bit of history- bedstories, for that matter. It did made you uncomfortable at first, but she'd reassured you that it had been a one-time-fun thing, no feelings involved. You believed her, considering that he really had been a person like that. Right now however, you began to feel a bit uneasy. "Trust me, I think he's just too soft for you to actually say it out loud." She said, and Alex scoffed.
"You're just bitter Soo, get over it or get out." She said, placing her hands on your shoulders as if to shield you from her words. You both quickly went to change after finishing your shift, however, the uneasy feeling stayed. "You okay?" Your friend asked, clearly concerned over your lack of happiness considering you had been so over the moon earlier that day when you'd explained how you were invited to a company-trip; and Jungkook had agreed to come along. You shook your head yes, but she was clearly not having it. "Look, I think she really is just bitter. Don't let it get to you, okay?" She said, and you smiled.
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Back home, things didn't get better though. You were suddenly on edge, Jungkooks presence around you as you started to pack your bag for the next few days felt suffocating, and you couldn't concentrate on his voice at all, even if you wanted to. This was horrible. Were her words really getting under your skin?
"Y/N?" He asked, and you looked up. "You've been staring at that pair of pants for almost ten minutes now. Do you want me to pack them in my bag? That way you don't have to lift so much-" He said, already reaching for the piece of clothing, yet you slapped his hand away. You didn't intend for it to look as harsh as it did, yet you also couldn't apologize in time. "Whoa okay, that's new." He said confused, crouching down next to you on the floor to inspect your face turned downwards. "Whats wrong?" He asked, now actually a little concerned.
You simply folded the pair of jeans, packing them into your bag instead of his like he had suggested. "Nothing, don't worry about it." You mumbled, not noticing the way his eyes started to harden a bit at your attitude. It wasn't the fact that you went against him that bothered him, but the lack of communication going on. He hated it if you didn't talk to him, something you'd promised him to keep to a minimum.
"Okay there, stop." He said, shutting your bag to keep you from continuing, not even letting you protest. "I don't like that attitude baby, you know I hate it when you don't talk to me." He said, looking at you. Normally this would be the extend of your 'bratty-tantrum' how he playfully liked to call it- but no, it seemed like this wasn't just a random outburst, because you genuinely tried to pry his hands away from your bag. He was not having it. "Stop this bullshit-" he said, but you didn't let him finish this time.
No, this time you'd gotten up, making him stand up as well. You shrunk back a bit, but whatever had set you off, it really did it this time. "Fuck off, Stop treating me like a kid Jungkook!" You said, trying to run away from this upcoming argument by leaving the room, yet he didn't leave you alone. In that moment you didn't even think really, because if you had, you would've never reacted the way you eventually did. He waited, leaned against the counter with crossed arms, making you scoff at him. "Maybe you should just stay home Jungkook." You said, leaving him in the kitchen. You were mad. And ready to sleep in your old room- which was technically your room to begin with, yet you had slept in Jungkooks bed for as long as you were together now, so it was more like a guest room at this point.
You didn't care. You needed to be alone.
Jungkook was utterly confused. There was no simpler way to put it. Maybe he really had overlooked the way he was starting to get more and more on your nerves with his constant helping and looking after you- but how could he really overlook that? Maybe he really didn't know you as much as he thought he did. After all, you two hadn't been dating for overly long at this point, and even though he has had relationships before, this was the first time he genuinely felt completely at ease with you. Didn't you feel the same way with him? Maybe Taehyung had been right, and he secretely was pushin his own likes onto you instead of openly communicating- ironic really, considering that he was always demanding to speak up whenever something was up with you. This was a mess. So thinking you truly meant what you'd said, he silently went back into his room, unpacking his bag.
  The next morning, he tried to be as normal as possible. You didn't really fight after all, did you? Yet as soon as you walked out of your room, hair already brushed and clothing chosen carefully for the 7-hour busride, the air felt tense. He suddenly felt as if he was walking on the thinnest of glass shards, and if he wasn't careful he'd prick himself and bleed out on his kitchen floor. This was worse than any mafia-movie had ever depicted a torture scene. What the hell was he supposed to do?
In the end, none of you both really spoke at all, simply silently consuming a bit of breakfast, while you checked your phone to make sure you were on time. You'd seen your pastel pink bag next to the front door, and wanted to go off again. He really expected you to leave alone now? Mad as you were, you stood up and placed your cutlery in the sink, silently grabbing your coat. "Wait, let me-" you turned around and looked at your boyfriend, wanting to cry on the spot right there. He stood like he was genuinely scared to help you with your stuff, and you, intending to not make him even more uneasy as he was, grabbed your bag, opening the front door. You pretended to not see him standing behind you, expecting at least a hug- one which you never gave him, instead shoving your way past him, leaving him at the doorstep, dumbfounded as ever.
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The trip wasn't as fun as you thought it would be. In the end, Soohyeon was visibly dissapointed to see that Jungkook didn't join in, which made Alex scoff at her in disgust. Now you felt even worse for letting her words get under your skin. Enjoying anything was a challenge you never wanted to accept, considering that he was supposed to be beside you, making weird remarks at the way your guide was struggling to speak in front of you and your coworkers. You felt bad.
Back home, Jungkook wasn't doing much better. He'd called up Taehyung to talk to him about the fight you both had, and immediately wanted to hang up on it as soon as he told him to just 'fuck it out'. This really wasn't an option with you. You both were so much more than just sex, but he highly doubted Taehyung would understand this.
Maybe he should give you control for now. He'd just let you choose the pace from now on, no sexual innuendo here. Yet he couldn't help but call you anyways after biting his lower lip until he faintly tasted metal on his tongue. He could call you to tell you goodnight, right? You'd like that.. right?
  The Night was even worse. You never liked loud places such as clubs, and Alex wasn't really much help either, since she had just dissapeared somewhere as soon as you all went out. You sat in the hotel bar, busying yourself with your phone because you didn't even drink at all. The more you thought about it, the more you really started to feel like a child. A lost one. So to try and at least get some good rest, you simply went up to your room, shutting the door, and throwing yourself onto your bed, your phone forgotten.
Fighting with Jungkook sucked. That much was kind of obvious to you if you were being honest, yet you never truly thought about why it sucked. It wasn't so much that you knew you were overreacting. It wasn't the fact that he was right, even though that did kind of hurt your ego a little bit- it was more the aftermath and your own stupid hardhead that made you react like you did.
You were a softie. In a sense of, emotionally very easily affected. Things other people simply didn't care about sometimes had a huge effect on you. When you had talked against your mothers advice for the first time at the age of 10, convincing her to buy a blue teddybear for you instead of a pink one made you feel horrible that night- so much so that you found yourself crying way after your bedtime, staring at the soft blue bear in your hands. Not only because you felt bad for doing something simply different than what was expected of you, but because you felt bad for the bear- as stupid as it sounded. Your mother later on talked to you, explaining that it was okay to do things how you wanted sometimes, yet even though you always held that stuffed toy dear to you (even to this day, its still sitting on your bed), your attitude towards things never truly changed. You still had a hard time coming up with the courage to really speak your mind and let things go your way, because you knew you couldn't deal with the aftermath. Just like now.
Jungkook had been right. Oh so right. Yet you couldn't text him, because for once it was actually way too late at night, which was kind of ironic considering the previous story about your childhood, but also because you didn't know what exactly you should say. 'Sorry for being bitter about being bitter?' this was stupid, and you just wanted to throw this stupid white hotel pillow against the stupid hotel wall in front of you. Instead you simply pulled your knees closer to yourself, battling with your own tears. Why did you always cry so much? This was so unfair. Why wasn't Jungkook here, why did he actually let you go on this trip alone, why didn't he stop you, why did you tell him to fuck off, why the fuck did you shove him- so many thoughts started to make the tears finally fall. This was ridiculous. You just wanted to go home. What if something horrible happened and the last thing you said to him were these words?
But had Soohyeon been so wrong? You really were a burden, weren't you? Remembering all those times you'd asked Jungkook to help you made you feel awful, a stark contrast to how these little memories used to remind you how much you loved him. Now they just made your stomach feel stale and empty. Or maybe it was the fact that you had forgotten to eat. Again.
A buzzing sound from under your sheets made you sniffle, grabbing your phone to see who the fuck would be calling you this late.
Jungkook.
You hesitantly picked up.
And before he could even finish his 'Hey doll', you started to sob. Why was he so unfair? And why were you so upset about it?
"Whoa Angel, what's wrong?" He cooed over the phone, and you knew he just wanted to help, but the way he talked to you just fueled your inner thoughts even more. It was like trying to put out a fire by throwing a cardboard box on it- it just made everything worse. And you could physically feel it too- the way your fingers started to tingle, then curl into fists, the way your ears began to sound fuzzy and your head started to spin. You faintly heard Jungkooks frantic voice, counting. Counting? "One.. two.. three.. and out. Thats it baby, breathe." He said softly, and you could slowly feel your fingers again, sniffling softly and rubbing your eyes- before instantly regretting it when you saw your mascare on the back of your hand, smeared like the words of your first essay in school when you'd accidentally wiped across the ink that wasn't dry yet. "Talk to me baby."
His voice was like velvet over the phone, and you wanted to cry again. You had to swallow several times, searching for your voice before you spoke. "I'm sorry." You said, and before you could continue, your own sobs thought it would be nice to choke you up again. Now you just cried out of frustration, and it pained Jungkook way deeper than he liked to admit. This was horrible for him, the way he could clearly hear your painful whimpers, he just knew you were getting a headache already- and he couldn't do anything from this far away. He could only wait for you to continue. "You- I was so mean to you and so so dumb and I didn't mean it, I promise." You said tearfully. "I love how you drive me to work sometimes, how you get me things from the upper shelves in the kitchen, how- how you help me carry the groceries, a-and how you help with- with reminding me to eat, and how you tried to help me with my car even though you had no clue what to do and-" You said, and he hushed you again, noticing how you got riled up again. "I feel so bad 'Koo, I didn't even hug you goodbye when you stood behind me and I even pushed you and I didn't answer your texts and I really wanted you to come here too cause everyone's just drinking and I hate that, and there's this weird arcade place close by and you always told me how I suck at video games so I wanted you to show off there again even though I always tell you I hate it and-" You said, and he laughed.
"Baby stop, breathe." He said, grinning so hard his cheeks started to hurt. He always told everyone how soft you were, yet no one believed him when he said it. Taehyung always said you probably held the reigns in the bedroom, yet how could you ever? He just wanted to shelter you from the entire world, your soul way too gentle and fragile to be placed in such a rough environment in his opinion. He'd started to google the fastest route to your hotel, internally sighing when he saw the 6-hour mark on the quickest way. He didn't care however. "It's alright angel. First of all, you're not dumb." He said, sending the route to his phone while getting up to grab some clothes and his bag. "You're the smartest girl I've ever met okay, and nothing will change that." Not really caring what exactly he grabbed, he made sure to get an extra sweater for you to put on, knowing how you didn't pack any of his in your anger. "Second of all, why were you even mad in the first place baby? I really don't get it. If you want me to take care of you the way I did, why did it set you off yesterday?" He asked, genuinely confused.
You bit your lip, curled up on the way too large double bed which had been booked since Jungkook was technically supposed to be here. "Soohyeon said-" you began, but he groaned loudly at that, making you pout.
"Soohyeon? I really should've known. That woman really can't take rejection can she?" He said, his mood rotting the more he thought about her. "I don't think I wanna know what she said. Look baby, whatever she said, it's bullcrap okay?" Zipping up his bag quietly to not raise suspicion on your side, he sat back down on the corner of the bed. "I love you, alright princess? I'd tattoo that onto my forehead if I could keep my job after that." He said, and you giggled at that, making him visibly deflate. Thank god. "I love that sound too. Now go wash your face and drink some water so that your headache won't be so bad in the morning, alright?" He said, and you nodded, before internally cringing and answering him verbally. "Good. Now sleep baby, we'll talk tomorrow, alright? Love you." He said. And you immediately said it back, rushing into the bathroom after ending the call.
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The next day started with a message on your phone, reminding you to drink lots of water to conquer your headache, and you smiled this time. When you met up with Alex for breakfast in the Hotel Lobby, she had greeted you with a hug, yet she also asked what was wrong, and why you'd left so suddenly last night. You explained to her what happened, leaving a few smaller details out that would be embarrassing down the line, like your slight panic attack over the phone simply because you remembered how you didn't hug him goodbye. That was your secret to keep.
She'd helped you with carrying your plate, when suddenly someone took it from her with a thanks, and your eyes widened when a hand was placed on the small of your back, the warmth of it slowly seeping through your shirt. You should be terrified but at least a bit uneasy, yet it was the smell that suddenly hung in the air that made your eyes almost water. Not because it was too present like your mom's perfume every time you went out to dinner as a family, but because you knew this- because Jungkook hated strong smells, and always washed his clothes with a specific fabric softener. But- how?
"Surprise?" He said, looking over your shoulder with his sugary sweet bunny smile, and you hugged him, careful of the plate he held in his hand. He simply laughed, already feeling way better than back home. Because even if he didn't outright say it, even just a day apart, especially when you both have had an argument before, had been hell for him. He was concerned for you whenever he couldn't be close to you, not because he thought you weren't capable, but because he thought why should you deal with things he could deal with way easier? When it came down to it, he was sure that you could stand up for yourself- you weren't a child before, as much as you may thought you were in his eyes. It was tricky, to say the least.
Soohyeon's eyes widened at the view of Jungkook walking into the hotel restaurant for breakfast, yours and his plate in his hands while looking for a table you could both sit at. It wasn't so much so that she was jealous, not really, because the dynamic you both had was nothing she wanted in a relationship- yet she couldn't help but feel a bit upset over the fact that he had gotten into a relationship with you. Technically, you were absolutely not his type, but what did she know?
Jungkook chuckled as he sat down with you next to a window, knowing even though you didn't outright say it that you liked this particular seat. He could spot Soohyeon in the corner of his eye, and wanted to laugh a bit, yet decided not to, simply as to not embarass you. You smiled, happy that he was there, and that was all that counted. "So, about that arcade place-" He started, and you groaned a bit, making him laugh. "Hey, come on, let me tease you a bit baby. You were the one leaving me cold like that, remember?" He said, and regretted it as soon as those words left him when he saw you visibly deflate. "Hey- sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Let's not talk about that right now, okay?" He said, and you nodded, shoving another piece of toast between your teeth.
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Suddenly that trip didn't feel so boring after all. Having Jungkook at your side made almost everything way better- and funnier. You felt more freedom now, knowing that you had someone at your side who would have your back if you did something bold. It was like Jungkook's presence gave you a sudden boost in confidence, Alex smiling every time you made a sassy comment, being a stark contrast to how you'd acted before. But that was just the effect he had on you.
You both later on ditched the rest of the group and decided to go back to the hotel room- simply because you insisted, even though Jungkook himself told you over and over again that he wasn't tired, sometimes even being interrupted by a yawn as if his body was trying to tell you how big of a lie his words were. You didn't mind at all that he needed a bit of rest, you loved sleep after all, and it was even better when you could sleep in the arms of a loved one like him. He immediately fell onto the bed, sighing in relief and you laughed at that, putting down your handbag before going into the bathroom to take off your makeup. It was still mid-day, but you honestly didn't feel like wearing anything anymore, rather happily grabbing your makeup-wipes and cleaning your face. Jungkook came into the bathroom, smiling as he took in your now clean face. "I love it when you don't wear makeup." He said, wrapping his hands around your middle and placing a kiss on your cheek. Ever since your little 'moment' a week ago, he'd been way more generous with his kisses around you. It seemed like he'd officially broken down an internal wall, like he learned something new and had to experience it over and over to really get the hang of it. And you loved it.
Back on the bed, you had your phone in hand, randomly checking your twitter feed for anything interesting, when Jungkook finally emerged from the bathroom, having insisted on taking a very long hot shower because 'look, I payed for this shit so I'm gonna use it'. You'd laughed at that and the fact that he insisted on having you shower with him, yet eventually giving up after you'd explained to him that that's dangerous, that you could slip and hurt yourself because you just knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself- that thought alone made him shut up, if a bit pouty. He had a towel wrapped around his lower parts, but the view of his bare upper body wasn't something unusual. He had a habit of normally sleeping without a shirt, and generally walking around the apartment without one on a day off for that matter. You didn't really knew why exactly he did that, but hey, you weren't complaining at all. He suddenly laid down on top of you in a teasing way, his arms resting next to your elbows keeping your upper body up since you were laying on your stomach. Of course he didn't let himself fall down, knowing he would probably crush you under his weight, but he also knew that you loved being this close to him, even if you sometimes made pouty remarks on how he was bullying you for being small. "what'cha doing?" He said, placing his chin on top of your head, trying to catch a glimpse of your phonescreen while you scrolled down. He became increasingly more touchy, suddenly running his fingers over your arms, moving his head to rest on your shoulder, before he eventually started to softly kiss the side of your neck. You had to admit it was hard resisting, but you liked to test his patience once in a while. "Yah, pay attention to me.." He whined, playfully biting the skin just above your collarbone, making you squeak, and him laugh darkly. Today, it seemed like he wasn't really up for playing. Because once he saw that you still refused to give into his advances, he eventually placed his way larger hand over yours, pressing the lock button on your phone before taking it from you.
"Hey!" You said, turning around and sitting criss-crossed while watching him place your phone on the bedside table, even making sure to connect the charger before turning around to face you again. His hair was still damp, his skin soft and still a little red on some parts where the water had heated him up. Even though his eyes held something mischievous and impish in them, you noticed just how young and fierce he looked; it made you remember just how much of an untamed person he really was. While you were someone attached to him like a newly grown limp, he was free to go wherever he wanted. Maybe he was just as uncaring then? Would he really slow down himself in order to make you catch up to him? Maybe he would. He'd shown you again and again just how gentle he actually could be, yet he also never backed down from a challenge with anyone. You really weren't as competitive as him, yet his nature had started to really colour your soul as well, making you bolder whenever he was around. Turning back time to the beginning of your relationship, you would've never seen you being so open with him like you were now. "You aren't even wearing clothes, gimme my phone back 'koo-" You started, but he'd seen through you already.
He smiled and crawled up to you, his towel getting caught under his knee during his movements making it eventually just lay on the matress underneath his legs as he towered over you, this time your body laying on its back underneath him and his gaze. You blushed chrimson, trying hard not to look down at all, and it made him laugh. "Oh baby, I don't plan on sleeping right now." He said, hands grabbing your wrists and putting them over your head. "And I don't need clothes either for what I'm about to do." He whispered, turning his head to the side and watching your face for a minute before chuckling. "Seriously doll? You've seen it all more than once by now, how are you still shy?" Moving his hands to run over your form, he stopped for a second, face serious. "Do you want to? We don't have to right now." He said, and you shook your head at that. You'd missed him. You wanted him too.
Moving to throw your shirt over your head, he instantly leaned in for a kiss, the newfound sensation now one of his favorite feelings with you. Back then kissing had been somewhat of a taboo for him; not because he didn't like it, but because he'd always been a hopeless romantic deep down, promising himself that he would keep a signature offering just as kissing for his actual lover, not just anyone he'd screw. It was such a meaningful gesture to him that he could not bring himself to kiss anyone other than you- but he'd never tell you that. That was embarassing. Your soft mewls eventually brought his thoughts back to you, moving his hands and lips away from where they had been to new destinations. Your lavender colored shorts had to go as well as your white lacy bra- and he smiled at the fact that this time was a rare occurance where you didn't match up your underwear. He thought about teasing you about it, but eventually decided against it, feeling way too needy for your taste and touch at this point. Suddenly however, you spoke up.
"Ngh, wait-" You said, and he immediately stopped what he was doing, eyes searching yours for any explanation. A blush covered your face and heaving chest, a view he would describe as heavenly if it wasn't for the slight concern that made its way through his brain. I wanna, uhm.." You started, but went into panic mode. How where you supposed to ask him that? You'd been so bold before with pleasuring him with your hands, yet you wanted to go even further- however, you never even saw so much as porn of it before, clicking away as soon as you thought you could watch it. Maybe it was really childish, but this was something you wanted to try, your curiousness getting the best of you at this point, but you also didn't know how to express that properly. Maybe he didn't even like those things, maybe he would be against it, and then the moment would be ruined and the night would become awkward as hell. His hand was placed on your chin, his thumb gently pulling your lower lip out from your teeth to stop your biting. This was your Jungkookie for god's sake, he would never laugh at you for this! (He actually would, just a little bit, but that was besides the point.) "I uhm.." you started again, before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. "I wanna go down on you too." You rushed, and waited for his response. Which did take a bit.
His eyes were wide open, and for a moment he looked just like the phrase always said, 'like a deer caught in the headlights'. You wanted to... what? It wasn't like he was against it or complaining, hell fucking no, but when did you even get that idea? It was always a little confusing to him how you could be so angelic, yet so mature at the same time. Suddenly his mind started to go nuts, visions of you on your knees in front of him, eyes so innocent staring up at him while he had his length placed inside your mouth- good lord. "Are you.. sure? You don't have to, you know-" He started but you cut him off.
"I'm sure, I just-" You said, playing with your fingers out of habit. "You would need to, you know, tell me how.." Jungkook almost growled at that. Of course that was your first time; and the fact that you trusted him so much as to ask him for this made his pride swell up- well, not only that, but right now he had other priorities. He gently traced your cheek, before moving to get a pillow from the bed, placing it on the floor at the corner.
"Alright baby." He said, and you nervously went down to kneel on the pillow, thankful that he didn't make you place your knees on the hardwood floor. But then again, he'd never do anything to hurt you whatsoever, so it wasn't too surprising. Somehow, even though you'd seen it countless of times you still avoided eye contact with his hard on, making him smile a bit. Your nervousness was quite endearing to him if he was honest, yet he would never voice that out loud. Instead, he slowly took your hands, placing them just underneath his navel, before he ran a hand through your hair, brushing it out of your field of vision for you. "Take your time pretty girl, just do what you think feels right." He said, voice low but steady. "I'll lead you on the way. Just relax." He spoke, hands never stopping his gentle reassurance. Even though you felt like you would never be ready, you slowly started to move your hands. At first you placed them on the inside of his thighs, getting a feel of it, before moving them to his hipbones and leaving them there. You slowly breathed to calm your own nerves before you placed a kiss on the side of him, making him breath out a bit heavier. Easing into it, you eventually took the tip inside your mouth, bitter and salty tastes combining in your mouth from the taste of his skin and slight precum. It wasn't unpleasant though, so you didn't shy away.
As soon as you started to suck just a little, his head fell back. His breathing was a bit shaky you noticed, and when you took a little more of him in, you noticed how the muscles of his stomach tightened. "Just like that-" He breathed out, getting interrupted when you swallowed around him a little as to not drool all over the place. You moved backwards to let him pop out before taking him in again, soft lips leaving a heavenly feeling behind. He looked at you with admiration, and if his mind had been trying to display an image of what you maybe looked like in this situation, nothing could've prepared him for the view he actually got. Second after second you got more comfortable in what you were doing, but it was when your eyes innocently looked up at him while your head turned a little to the side, hair bruhing his thigh, that he broke. A grunt was leaving his lips as you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. The way how you made something so filthy feel so romantic made him a little jealous- you always did things like this so effortlessly, while he struggled with writing a fucking birthday card the right way without making it sound over the top or cheesy. "God- yes-" He choked out, before you placed your free hand around the rest of him that wouldn't fit into your mouth, moaning a bit yourself around him. "I don't even have to- fuck- teach you anything-" he said, chuckling a bit under his breath, chest heaving and dusted in a mild watermelon shade, sweat starting to glisten on his skin. "you're such a smart girl, ah- you're my good girl, so so good, fuck-" He said, thighs suddenly trembling. His hand found its way into your hair, his grip tightening a bit without being too rough. "Baby I'm gonna cum, princess, stop I'm- ah-!“ He said, but you almost cockily didn't stop, instead swallowing again around him, before you could feel his cum heavy on your tongue as he actually whimpered out a moan. Your nose scrunched up a bit at the taste yet you swallowed it down, and he fell backwards, taking a deep breath. You moved to stand up, legs a bit sore from your position, laying down on your stomach next to him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "You really are something else dollface." He said, his hand placing itself behind your ear before he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. He didn't mind the slighty weird taste of his own release on your tongue one bit.
The way you could rile him up in a matter of seconds was witchcraft, he was sure of it, yet he didn't mind being cursed if it was you putting a spell on him. It didn't matter as long as he could be like this with you forever at this point. Was this what love actually was? His kisses were deep, rushed, as if he was running out of time again, but that was who he was. Jungkook was an impatient man, only slowly learning to take a break or stop and stare for a second. He'd been a selfish and hurried being before he'd eventually met you, nowadays starting to make time for things instead of squeezing his happiness in between seemingly important tasks during his day. Moments like these however made him fall back into his old steps, yet you didn't mind at all. This was just who he was, and you loved him either way. His hand travelled lower, eventually finding your folds, slipping between them with ease, your juices making every motion glide softly as ever. Putting pressure on your pulsing nub you mewled into his mouth, back arching off the matress and chest pushing against his, your hands grabbing the sheets in small fists before loosening up, just to grab them again. You gasped when he eventually let your lips go, instead playfully biting and sucking on the skin of your shoulder down to your collarbone, making sure to leave his marks on his way. His fingers eventually slipped inside you, curling up to have you moving to a beat only you both could feel. He took them out of you after a bit of making sure you were ready for him, impatiently pumping his length to get himself ready as well, before he grabbed his travelbag, opening it hurriedly and grabbing a familiar foil package. Ripping it open with slightly shaking hands, he rolled it over his sensitive tip, making sure it was properly placed before he joined you again on the now dishelved hotel bed. The first push made you both groan out, before you had moved your legs, heels placing themselves just above his behind, trying to keep him close to you. He sighed, swallowing between breaths, sweat now making his skin glow as the sun slowly peaked out beneath the clouds again, shining through the window, blinds drawing patterns of glowing stripes on your skin wherever it could reach you two. He whished he could take a picture right now, the entire scenery so sappy and aesthetic to him that he couldn't help but plead that he would never forget this view. He groaned when you started to clench around him. "Ugh, you're so good to me princess.." He pressed out between grunts. His pace picked up again, the sound of skin against skin ever so present in the room. "Such a good- good girl for me, yeah?" He said, and smiled when you nodded at him, hands grabbing at his biceps, holding onto him for dear life. Your orgasm came sudden, so sudden that it made you yelp a bit, an in your ears way too loud moan escaping- while it sounded like music to Jungkook himself as he released inside the condom inside you, body shaking as he slowly pulled out making you whine at him cutely.
You both laid beside each other, Jungkook putting the sheets over your body, knowing how easily you got cold afterwards. He curled up behind you after getting rid of his condom, pulling you as close to him as possible, sun slowly glowing warmer and warmer, before you both fell asleep.
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"hey." Something touched the tip of your nose. You scrunched it up, groaning before pulling the sheets higher to cover your face. "No no, baby." The voice of your boyfriend was evident, sleep lacing it a little but he seemed to be awake. "If you sleep any longer you'll get a headache princess." He said, and you turned around again to face him, hating how he was right. "There you are. Good morning." He said, smile ever so present on his features. You remembered briefly getting up late at night and showering after Jungkook helped you with it, before falling asleep again. Now it was almost 11 in the morning, and you were surprised how long you'd slept. "We missed breakfast, but I wanted to take you out for some fast food anyways." He said, sitting up and making you smile impishly.
"Chicken Nuggets for breakfast?" You asked a bit timidly, and he chuckled.
"Only because you gave me head yesterday." He bluntly said, and you hid yourself again.
He really was the worst boyfriend ever. And the best.
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"I still can't believe how that was your first time doing that."
"Please stop talking about it-"
"Oh I will. If I can get another one tonight?"
"Shut up 'Koo."
"Oh you love me!"
Yes. Yes you did.
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Thank you so much for reading, and again, don't hesitate to send in asks for 'koo or the MC to answer! Much love, Bonny <3
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mrsjadecurtiss · 3 years ago
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Omg if Roose can’t smile why he ever tries???Dude you are terrifyng unsuscribe please
Actually i love the fact that he smiles somewhat frequently! One of the things that set him apart from the oft compared Tywin, who famously never smiles (except to people special to him).
A thin smile twitched across his lips. "But [you're] not [fond of] lions, it would seem. Nor manticores." - aCoK
The pale man in the bed smiled faintly as the leeches nursed of his blood. "I am not a man to be undone, ser." - aCoK
"And who will tell him so?" Roose Bolton smiled. [...] His smile was dismissal. - aCoK
Bolton showed his teeth in something that might have been a smile. "Are these times so terrible, Maester?" - aCoK
"Regarding you?" A faint smile touched Roose Bolton's lips. [...] That smile again, there for an instant, gone as quick. [...] Lord Bolton's little smile paid another visit to his lips. - aSoS
"After a war there is always a peace, and with peace there are pardons . . . for the Robb Starks, at least. Not for the likes of Vargo Hoat." Bolton gave him a small smile. - aSoS
He gave a dry chuckle. "He knows little of Stannis Baratheon either, I fear. That one might have given him Harrenhal for his service . . . but he would have given him a noose for his crimes as well." - aSoS
Bolton gave a soft chuckle. "Harrion Karstark was captive here when we took the castle, did you know? I gave him all the Karhold men still with me and sent him off with Glover. I do hope nothing ill befell him at Duskendale . . ." - aSoS
He could lose his tongue for that, Theon thought, as his bowl was being filled. He is only a singer. [...] But Lord Bolton smiled at the lyric and Ramsay laughed aloud. - aDwD
"M'lord." Bolton's lips parted just enough to show a quarter inch of teeth. It might have been a smile. - aDwD
"Smitten?" Bolton laughed. "Did he use that word? Why, the boy has a singer's soul …" - aDwD
"Breathe deep. I know what he said. You're to spy on me and keep his secrets." Bolton chuckled. "As if he had secrets." - aDwD
What we can gather:
Most frequently he does a faint/thin/quick smile, which often appear to just be polite and not genuine. These are usually towards lords and other people of his status as well as the general public, in whose presence he would be cautious/controlled about showing emotions (both genuine and not genuine ones; the smile at Mance' lyrics for example could be genuine, but it is still controlled due to being in a public setting).
He smiles/chuckles a lot in his dinner with Jaime in aSoS; This makes it seem like he is in good spirits to have found Jaime (whose return is a great political tool), but also tries to be polite to him and make a good impression (offering him food as well, etc)
He smiles while showing his teeth two times; both PoV's that witness it (Arya and Theon) find it strange and barely qualifiy it as a smile. Since for many people showing teeth is a sign of an open, real smile, and these teeth smiles seemingly contrast his usual controlled smiles, one might argue these two scenes show him smiling openly/genuinely; as opposed to when hes acting polite or emotionally controlled. Notably both smiles are when he's only in the presence of people who are his underlings and that he appears to see no danger in (Qyburn, "Nan" and "Reek"), so he would not have to act as emotionally controlled as usual.
His only actual "laugh" (a wording that also implies it's genuine) is in reference to the miller's wife story, showing his general callousness and immoral personality. Specifically he appears to laugh at Ramsay's naivety and his childlike desire to imagine a positive relationship between his parents; he has a generally low opinion of Ramsay, who is very driven by emotion and has a sometimes naive outlook on the world, which Roose often chides him for.
Generally, a lot of the things he smiles about are mean or immoral (like sending out Harrion Karstark to die only to say "i hope nothing ill befell him at Duskendale").
Roose also has a sense of humour and is sometimes seen making jokes. These are also often mean or immoral. ("Jaime Lannister sends his regards."- aSoS)
I could not find a reference to Roose smiling "without reaching his eyes", which is a description seen in reference to characters like Littlefinger and Ramsay sometimes. Perhaps, since Roose is generally regarded as emotionless/creepy, it just wouldnt stand out if the smile doesn't reach his eyes, since his face so frequently is a mask anyways. Notably, while there are a lot of references to his eyes being "empty" and guarding his emotions very well ("Pale as morning mist, his eyes concealed more than they told." - aSoS), it also appears as if when he slips, his eyes are the first to betray his true emotions in his controlled face ("Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before—an uneasiness, even a hint of fear." - aDwD); There are for example also several descriptions of him looking "amused" without a smile being described, which implies the amusement could be seen in his eyes.
Obviously these are all just guesses, since we have no insight into his actual thoughts due to his lack of PoV chapters! These are just some things i noticed, but that might also be interpreted differently.
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saffronwritings · 4 years ago
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C L U M S Y / I I D A PART THREE
And for all this pain, that I can't explain There's a black flag wavin' tonight You know I let you down I've been clumsy with your heart again
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I I D A | P A R T  T H R E E (F i n a l) 
[Part One] [Part Two]
C L U M Y  M A S T E R L I S T
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: I am so sorry for how delayed these posts have been! However, I had SO much fun writing Iida. I actually was worried I wouldn’t portray him right, but with some research and actually giving it a shot, I had so much fun writing him! I never thought I would actually simp over Iida??? (Dont worry Kaminari & Shinsou, I STILL YOU TOO MORE) But like, I get it now. He’s such a sweet character. With this being the final part for Iida, that means there will be more characters coming into play! That dones’t mean that Iida won’t get more love in the future! If you have suggestions or requests for Iida (or the other bois) just shoot me a message :) Hope you enjoy!!
               Classes seemed to drag on for Iida after the little escapade with you this morning after homeroom. He was all out of focus and even skipped lunch for that matter. He found himself sitting on the rooftop where he had met you previously that week. When he had admitted to noticing you and potentially admitted falling for you. In the exact spot Aizawa caught him technically skipping class and threatening to expel him. Iida was confused and baffled by what you had said.
               “WELL, MAYBE IF YOU DIDN’T SNEAK YOUR WAY INTO MY BED WHEN I WAS SICK AND MAKE ME FALL FOR YOU, I WOULD PROBABLY ACTUALLY CAREMORE.”
               Those words kept echoing in his head, making Iida breathe out in frustration. He knew he had to apologize to you, but when you refused to show up to class what was he supposed to do? He genuinely was curious about you, even if you were the opposite of him. Even with Aizawa down his throat about his recent behavior, he still wanted nothing more than to be in your presence. Something about the morning he came to check in on you sparked something in him for you. In that moment you were vulnerable and trusted Iida enough to take care of you; enough to trust in him enough to not take advantage of you. 
                Iida heard the rooftop access door open, and for a split moment he was hopeful that maybe it was you. He was met with disappointment when it was just Midoriya. “Are you alright, Iida? I’m a bit worried about you.” He sheepishly said. Iida shook his head no and sighed. He took off his glasses and put them onto the top of his head. “For being class representative, I have been slacking in m duties. Both academically and as a friend.” He admitted to Midoriya, who had moved from the door to where Iida had sat himself.
                “I will say, it’s very unlike you to skip out on meals. I looked for you everywhere, but when someone from class 1-B told me they saw you come to the roof, I was even more baffled. This is usually where Kacchan or Y/L/N hang out.” Midoriya pointed out, resting a fist onto his chin in thought. “Yes, I know, I found Y/L/N out here one day when she skipped class. It’s quite relaxing to just stare at the sky when you’re stressed.” Iida huffed out. Midoriya stared at him with a look of concern.
"I don't know all of what's going on between you and Y/L/N, but I think you should go talk to her. She seemed pretty upset this morning." Midoriya stated after taking in Iida's pained expression. "I came up here looking for her, figuring she may be up here ditching classes again. I assumed wrong. She's probably in her room at Heights Alliance." Iida confirmed, letting Midoriya in on his thought process. "You know, I try not to mingle in the gossip that goes around. However, it seems that Yaoyorozu thinks the two of you are getting pretty close too. I don't want you getting in the middle of something that may stress you out more." The green haired boy confessed. 
Another deep sigh left Iida's lips. He knew Momo had potentially had a thing for him, yet he seemed to be leading her on as well. "I'll have to be forward with her after our final class today then. Then I'll go talk with Y/L/N when we get back to the dorms." Iida stated, standing up with this plan laid in place. Yet, there was still a troubled look on Midoriya's face. "Is there more?" He asked his friend. He chewed on his lower lip anxiously. "You know I would never suggest something of this nature, especially with you being the class rep." Izuku started out slowly, making Iida raise an eyebrow in question. 
“You should probably go see her now, Iida.” Midoriya stated in a low tone, hoping to not upset the class rep. Iida immediately thoughts went towards Aizawa and how he had been scolded at not once, but twice for his inappropriate behavior in regard to his duties as class rep. Yet, he knew Midoriya was right. Of course, if you were indeed at Heights Alliance, he could just see you once class was let out. What kind of impression would that make though? You were already very upset with him by the way you had glared at him before leaving the classroom. “Just something to think about Iida.” Midoriya said before heading back to the roof access door.
You forgot when you finally stopped crying in your dorm room, sitting against your bedframe.  The tears that hadn’t gotten wiped away had dried against your cheeks and your eyes felt like they burned. You looked at the time on your nightstand and noticed how it was only one period after what would have been lunch. You had skipped the rest of your morning classes with no intention of going back to your afternoon ones. Aizawa had come to your dorm to check in on you after homeroom class was over much to your surprise.
“I know you know your material, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to show up to class every now and then. You are an impeccable student even for the number of times you slack off. If you showed some actual interest maybe the class rep would cut you some slack. I’m not going to bore myself with hearing the details of my student’s drama. I’m sure the two of you will sort things out.” Aizawa said, putting a comforting hand on your head before walking away.
It was after that moment you had stopped crying so hard. That’s when the tears had started to falter, and you started to take deep breaths in order to calm yourself down. That didn’t stop you from being startled when you heard a knocking on your dorm room door. You figured it might be another teacher checking in on you, but when you opened the door and saw Iida standing there you were baffled. Iida hesitated to look at you at first but when he did and saw your eyes bloodshot and your face stained with tears, his heart broke in half; knowing full well that he was probably the reason you had cried.
You wanted to slam the door in his face more than anything. Frustration burned in your core as you stood there silently. “If you are here to tell me to get to class, you can forget it, Tenya.” You spat out, getting ready to close the door. Your next class was going to begin soon so it was surprising to even see him there. “That’s not why I am here at all, Y/L/N.” He retorted, seeing how tense and uncomfortable you looked to be in his presence. “Well, whatever it is can’t be that important. Class starts soon and you’ll be late class rep.” You choked out, trying to keep your composure but you were still hurting from earlier.
“I’m here to apologize. I was too harsh on you this morning. After our meeting on the roof the other day, Aizawa found me and chewed me out. I was frustrated because I do everything in my immediate power to follow all the rules. Yet, with you, I find myself slipping up and getting in trouble. It worried me. It shouldn’t have worried me to the point of hurting your feelings though.” He admitted to you.
It was like your voice was stuck in your throat. He wasn’t staying behind to work on a class project, he was serving detention that Aizawa gave him because of you. “You got detention because of me.” You whispered out and almost immediately covered your mouth with your hands. “I can’t say that I’ve ever experienced getting detention before.” He laughed, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.  “Then why did you lie to Yaoyorozu?” You pressed. Did you really have the right to be questioning him? You shook that thought from your head; of course you did! He led you on to believe maybe you had a chance. He embarrassed you in front of your entire class.
“I didn’t want word going around that I was serving detention. I was embarrassed because I am supposed to set examples for my other classmates.” He admitted with a sigh, looking uneasy with the question. “Why didn’t you just rat me out to Aizawa? You didn’t have to take that detention if you told him you were getting me to go back to class. I would have had to serve detention, not you.” You asked in an obvious state of confusion. “I guess it wouldn’t have looked good on me to tell my teacher that my crush was ditching class and to get her into trouble.” He finally said after stumbling over his words for a few minutes.
“Yeah, okay.” You laughed out, rolling your eyes. “Spare me the pity, Tenya. I know you have the hots for Yaoyorozu.” This statement took him by utter surprise. Izuku was right about how rumors were circulating about him and Yaoyorozu. “Well that’s unfortunate for her then, I’ll have to settle that immediately so no one else gets the wrong thoughts.” He said, before turning on a heel to walk back towards campus. “Wait, what?” You sputtered, walking to catch up to him. Surprised by you following him, he turned back around and grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to your dorm room. “Take it easy, you’ve emotionally stressed yourself out. I promise this time I will be back to check on you after classes. I just wanted to come to apologize to you.” He coerced you back into your room.
“You promised last time and you never did. How can I take your word for it this time?” The question slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it. Iida’s blue eyes bore into your own before taking your hand into his. “Y/L/N, I promise I will see you after classes are over.” He whispered, bringing your hand to his lips, and placing a ghost of a kiss onto it. Your face heated up immensely by the bold action of your class rep. “See you then.” He nodded, before rushing back towards the school building. You held your hand to your chest, baffled by what just happened. Yet, you couldn’t fight the smile that was forming on your face as you walked back into your dorm room.
Iida had barely made it back in time for class, but with the help of his quirk and Izuku covering him, he was able to just slip into class undetected by Aizawa. Izuku shot him a quizzical look as if asking if he had gone to your dorm room to apologize. In which, he nodded in response with a feint smile spreading across his face. Ochako seemed lost in this odd silent exchange but Izuku had told her he would fill her in later on. Iida was grateful to have such good friends like Midoriya looking out for him. He would have never considered skipping classes to go check in on a girl, but with the help of his friend he felt like his decision was justified.
Classes went on, and all Iida could think about was you. How small your hands were in comparison to his own, how soft they felt. How your face flushed by his gentle touches. The way you looked adorable being so flustered by his actions. There was no denying it now, the boy was smitten by you. This didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. He wasn’t going to try and change you, that’s the last thing he wanted to do.
Yes, you broke the rules. You two were polar opposites, but maybe that is what he needed in his life. Was for someone to teach him when to take it easy and when to take much needed breaks. You might not have had the best grades in the class, but you also didn’t seem to be failing. Maybe he was exactly what you needed to motivate yourself into doing better for not just yourself, but for others. “Iida, if I was mistaking it almost looks as if you’re off daydreaming.” Yaoyorozu stated once class had let out. His smile faltered when he saw Momo standing at his desk, smiling.
“I was actually hoping to talk to you after class, Yaoyorozu.” He stated in a more serious tone. “Me too! I’m glad that great minds think alike, shall we walk back to Heights Alliance together?” She suggested, moving her arm to suggest they both walk out of the classroom together. “We can talk right here. I have something to attend to after this that’s important.” He denied her request to walk back to the dorm building together. The last thing he needed was for anyone else to get the wrong idea of the two of them again. This took Momo off guard with his cold disposition. “Momo, I think you are a great friend and an even better student. However, there seems to be rumors speculating about the two of us. I would like to settle those, right now.” He started, his tone still coming off stand-offish.
“Oh what, that the two of us would make a good couple? I agree! I was actually thinking of asking you to join me for tea at the local coffee-“ “Yaoyorozu, I am not interested in dating you.” Iida cut off Yaoyorozu from her statement. She froze and looked at Iida in shock. “Wait, you don’t feel the same way?” She whispered, confusion and hurt flooding her eyes. “I’m sorry, I have feelings for someone else. If I misdirected you with my own feelings, I apologize but I do not feel the same way.” He continued, packing up his bookbag. “Oh what? You’re interested in our lazy classmate who skips all our classes?” She angrily spit back at him, embarrassed for getting rejected like this.
“Yaoyorozu, as your class representative, I must say I don’t take kindly to you down talking one of our classmates.” Iida stated, but in a warning tone. Her eyes widen at his warning tone and she bit her bottom lip. This made her step back from him and walk away frustrated. A sigh left his mouth as he watched her walk away upset. He had hoped it would have gone better than it did. He quickly put his bag on his shoulder and made his way towards Heights Alliance. Izuku, Shoto, and Ochako were all sitting in the front lounge area and smiled to see him. “Want to join us for a study session, Iida?” Ochako offered.
“Sorry guys, I made prior arrangements. Maybe next time.” He said as if he was on a serious mission. “We’ll catch you at lunch tomorrow?” Shoto asked, raising an eyebrow his way. “I wouldn’t hold my breath on that, Todoroki.” Izuku smiled, nodding for Iida to get going. This made Ochako and Shoto look questioningly back and forth from Iida to Izuku. “Thanks Midoriya, I’ll see you all tomorrow.” He smiled before taking off towards the staircase. He didn’t realize how fast he was walking towards your dorm before he slowed himself down.
He knocked on your door and waited for a response. He was however, met with silence on his end. “Y/L/N?” He asked before knocking on the door again. You didn’t answer his attempts of getting your attention. Maybe you were still upset with him from what he had said that morning. He couldn’t hold that against you in the slightest, but it didn’t sting any less for you to be ignoring him. Feeling dejected and idiotic for trying to make amends, he trudged back down to his own dorm room to put his belongings down.
He was very startled to see you standing outside his door room though. “Y/N?” He breathed, startled that you were waiting for him at his own dorm. You had a slight blush spread across your face and you were fidgeting with your hands. “I was nervous you wouldn’t come check on me after classes ended. I figured that maybe if I waited for you at your dorm that I could at least talk to you here.” You admitted, still fumbling with your thumbs. Iida relaxed and a soft smile spread across his lips. He walked up to you and took your hands into his own. “I promised you I’d come see you. I meant it this time.” He whispered, once again bringing your hands to his lips.
This action had once again made your face flush a very bright red. “If I were none the wiser, I would think you were running another fever Y/L/N.” He teased you, bringing you close to him. He had wrapped his arms around your waist, and you couldn’t fight the blush that was etching itself deeper on your face. “Do I need to take care of you again, Y/N?” This caught you off guard; he always referred to you by your last name. You looked up to see him genuinely smiling at you brightly. “I-I should be alright. However, I wouldn’t mind spending some time with you. If you don’t mind, that is.” You stuttered out, avoiding eye contact. “I would really like that, Y/N.” He admitted, the smile never breaking from his face.
“Just know, I will always come and take care of you when you are sick from now on.” Iida admitted to you, making you gape at him in surprise. “I don’t understand.” You whispered. He rolled his eyes and continued to smile at you. “How many times do I have to tell you, that I like you, Y/N? I’m not just saying that. I mean it. I turned Yaoyorozu down before coming to see you. I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t mind getting in trouble if it means getting to see and talk to you.” He admitted, making your heart soar. You never imagined the class representative admitting his own feelings towards you. You always thought Iida was out of your league, especially with your lackadaisical nature towards school.
“I need someone like you to help ground me, to help me recognize when I need to slow down and just appreciate the clouds. Now, I’m not saying I’m going to be skipping class with you, that’s just silly. However, I will not be as uptight about everything.” He joked, making you smile. “Not even every once in a blue moon?” You questioned, a sparkle of mischievous in your eyes. He hummed in thought before shaking his head. “I do have a duty to fulfill as class rep, you know. However, I wouldn’t mind skipping a few study sessions to spend time with my new girlfriend, if she accepts my feelings back.” He slurred quickly.
You batted your eyes at him, dumbfounded. “You don’t have to accept them back, don’t feel like I am pressuring you.” He quickly stated, almost pulling himself away from you. However, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled his lips into yours. Iida was now the one who was flushed with red from his neck to the tips of his ears. You pulled back with a shy smile. “That was very inappropriate for school standards, Y/N! What if Aizawa walked by! We would be getting reprimanded!” He whisper yelled at you, removing his arms from you to chop them in the air frantically. “I don’t hear you saying anything about not enjoying it, Tenya.” You remarked. His mouth fell open for a moment before he coughed and pulled himself together.
“Yes, I will be your girlfriend, Iida.” You stated, laying your head on his chest. Shock overtook Iida’s features at first, but they softened by your touch. He wrapped his arms that he was frantically moving before around you in a strong embrace. “I meant it; I will always be here to take care of you. Protect you. Do whatever I can to make sure you are still smiling and not crying ever again.” He declared, kissing the top of your head. You hummed in response.
“Now, let’s go relax. I think we’ve both had a very long and eventful  day that warrants some downtime.” Iida said, pulling away from your embrace. “Don’t we have a test on Monday?” You questioned. “That’s two days from now, we can study at some point this weekend. Why don’t we just, watch a movie together?” He suggested, the red coming back to his face as he rubbed the back of his head, nodding towards his dorm room. A smile crept up onto your lips as you nodded and took him by the hand and drug him into his dorm room for a night filled with cuddles, movies and stolen kisses.~
Taglist:
@ghostexhibit, @devildom-express, @lyrical-panic, @tragedy-of-sorts
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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years ago
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dings a rinky triangle right next to your head Hi guys, it's fic time! I actually put this up last night but I'm telling you right now. It's had a few hours to cool, like a pie out of the oven, but made of words. This chapter will actually contain mentions of ssssself harm, so viewer beware, i guess.
His world stays dark, even though he knows he’s opened his eyes. He tries to understand that, brain feeling foggy. He must be somewhere dark. He’s laying on his back. He can hear muffled voices, maybe, over him? He’s under something. He lays there, listening, but he’s too tired to even try to understand, and the voices are too muffled to be anything recognizable. Maybe, if he really strains, he can hear a familiar voice, or someone who sounds like his baby sister, but the only word he manages to understand is “invisible.”
He falls back into a restless sleep.
The next time he’s able to shake exhaustion from his mind, he tries to sit up. It’s easier than he thought it might be. This time, more aware of himself, his body feeling less destroyed, he actually tries to understand where he is. It feels like he’s laying in dirt, or under dirt, in a mountain of it, the usual soft scent of freshly turned earth overpowering. It still hurts to move, but he forces himself to, clawing upwards, through the dirt, until he reaches a wooden plank, which he goes through, like he’s not even there.
It’s a box, containing something foul smelling. A coffin… he’s inside a coffin. Juno buried him below a pine box, in someone else’s grave. The inside of it stinks, like decay and chemicals, and he doesn’t stop to take in whoever this used to be, just pushes up, and out, until he emerges from the ground like a zombie, like Night of the Living Dead. The ground around him is grown over with grass, and he grabs at it, using it as much as he can, as he crawls from someone’s grave, until finally, he pulls himself free from the earth, and lays there, taking breaths he doesn’t need, to clear the smell of the body from his nose. His suit and trench coat are filthy, but that barely registers, at this point. There are more important things to worry about, like getting home- He sits up, catches sight of the gravestone.
Emily Deetz Devoted Wife, Beloved Mother “Whom Most We Love Reach First the Golden Gate, Leaving Us Desolate”
He stares at the etching on the stone, and feels something in his mind snap, like a rubber band stretched too tight. He’s seeing the world through a fisheye lens, his vision distorted, blurry, as he tries to understand exactly what just happened. Juno made him crawl out of his own mother’s grave. The body he still reeks of was Emily’s. He sits there, a long time, not feeling much of anything, only able to stare, replaying that memory, over and over, and the only thing that makes him move is the sudden realization of what grass over a grave could mean. Emily’s been buried long enough for it to grow. How long has it been since he’s been home? He does his best to push this fun new trauma down, as far as it will go. He’s got to get back to his family. What’s left of it, he thinks, humorlessly.
He stands, off balance, and wipes some of the dust and dirt from his face, and finds that, annoyingly, his glamour has slipped, and it refuses to reapply. Maybe he’s too drained, though he’s not sure how he’s going to get back home, clearly looking as deranged as he must. He’s too exhausted to teleport, and he wanders around the cemetery, avoiding the few people there as much as he can, as the sun dips low, and vanishes. At least by that point he can force his teeth and ears to resemble normal human’s. The moss and eyes, well, he’s too worn down to care. So he’ll look like an extra grubby hobo, he thinks. That’ll have to be his new look, for now.
He reaches a gate, and leans on it, and then falls through it, and blinks, confused. He’s never been intangible by accident, before. Usually it takes concentration to make his solid form incorporeal. He stands, straightens out his suit collar, adjusts his sleeves, fiddles with his tie, as he thinks. There’s got to be someone around here who can call his family for him, or at the very least, a cab. The cemetery is growing darker, and his attention is drawn to the far off flicker of candles. He feels a pull, and he approaches, taking in what he sees.
It’s a group of five teenagers with an Ouija board. Predictable. He snorts, and expects that sound to alert the kids to his presence, but they don’t even turn to see what the noise could be. He steps closer, until he’s fully illuminated by the glowing ring of candles around them, and he tries to be friendly. “Hey, just a normal livin’ adult human man, in a cemetery, at night, approachin’ a group of children. You kids wanna be helpful an’ call me a cab?” BJ tries, but he’s ignored. The kids don’t even look in his direction. He remembers being a snot nosed teen, but this is a bit much. His blood boils, and he leans down, claps his hands in one of the teen’s faces, and she responds to that, but not in the way he wants. “I think I just felt a cold spot!” she tells her friends. “In front of my face, just now!” “Calm down with that,” a red haired girl shoots her a look. “We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already having a spiritual experience. Yeah, right.” “No you guys, really!”
“Lookit me,” he interrupts them. The children continue to squabble. His gut clenches. “Look at me!” he demands, storming to the center of the circle, and kicking at their stupid board game. His boot goes through it. They don’t react. Why would they, he realizes, sinking to sit on top of the board.
He’s invisible.
He tries to recall everything Juno had said, as he’d struggled to keep conscious, while impaled. Loneliness. Invisibility, being at the command of the living. Being… forgotten. No, no, NO- His impending freak out is stymied when he feels hands go through him, and he shoots up, hovering over the board game, as the teens below him react. “Oh my god, total cold spot! Should we like, make a note of that?” “Come on, come on, let’s start, while there’s still someone or something here!”
The five teens lean forward, each placing fingers on the planchette. “Is there anyone here?” one of them asks.
Betelgeuse stares, and feels a tug, again, clearly coming from the board. He knows some demons use these things to play with their food, before they eat, so he gives it a go, and floats over the game, head down, feet in the air, like he’s diving underwater. Maybe these kids can actually help him. He pushes the planchette with one finger, to land on “Yes.”
“Did you do that?” one boy asks, and the group devolves into the kids blaming each other, and he rakes his hands down his face, and tries to move the planchette, again, but they’re too busy squabbling, they’re not touching it anymore. Fuck, this is frustrating. He’s never wanted a group of teenagers to drop dead as badly as he does right now. Finally, they put their hands back on the pointer, and ask another question. “Are you friendly?”
This time, he pushes the planchette to spell, instead. “S-U-R-E.” “That doesn’t instill a lot of confidence,” the redhead from before mutters. “What do you want?” He nudges the pointer along, painstakingly slow. “H-O-M-E.” “You want to go home?” “YES.”
“For fuck sake, yes,” he groans, and then perks as one asks, “How can we help you?” Well… he’s not actually sure. He squints, trying and failing to recall everything Juno had said. How is he supposed to work with this curse thing, when he doesn’t know the rules? He digs his hands in his pockets, frustrated, and then blinks, because there’s what feels like a business card there, one that he doesn’t remember. He pulls the paper from his pocket, studies it.
BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE
He remembers the way Juno had chanted his name, before he’d lost consciousness. That must be it, then. His name is his burden.
“M-Y-N-A-M-E-T-H-R-E-E-T-I-M-E-S”
“Oh, wait, wait, guys, I’ve heard of this,” one of the girls gasps. “Demonic entities, they have you do things in threes, to mock the trinity, you know, father, son, and holy ghost. It’s a demon thing! We might be talking to a non-human spirit!” “That means we can’t trust it, right?” A boy asks, and they all look uneasy. He steers the planchette around the board, desperate. “W-A-N-N-A-H-O-M-E-P-L-Z.” The redhead wrinkles her nose. “Do demons use chat speak?” she asks, glancing around the group.
“O-H-M-Y-G-O-D-U-K-I-D-S-A-R-E-K-I-L-L-I-N-M-E.”
“I’m not afraid. Tell us your name, spirit!” a boy calls, and he gives the planchette a push, intent on spelling it. The pointer doesn’t move. “Come the fuck on!” he growls, but it doesn’t matter how much strength he puts into the action, he can’t move the dinky plastic piece to spell out his name.
“Spirit? You there?”
“F-U-C-K,” he spells out, in a rage, because this is pointless, he’s too exhausted and sore to think of how to make this work, and he just wants to go home, and see what’s left of his family. He growls again, and then snuffs all the candles in the circle, all at once, causing the kids to scream, and scramble, and that, at least, forces a rictus grin from him. He’s always enjoyed the sounds of terror. He leaves the children tripping over themselves in the dark, and decides he’s going to have to make his way home the old fashioned way- floating. At least he doesn’t have to walk, he supposes, tucking his legs under himself, and he floats invisibly out of the cemetery, and down the sidewalk, trying to focus on how good it will be to see Lydia and Charles, and not on how they won’t see him, and especially not on how every part of him, physically, emotionally, mentally, is hurting. read the rest over here~ If you're totally lost, I find starting at the beginning of something often makes the middle of something make better sense. So you can start at the very beginning right HERE
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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago
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ok so for the requests, maybe a Loki x teen!reader (platonic) where they're both touchstarved dorks but one day Loki has a horrible nightmare and reader tries their best to comfort him? and their bond grows from then onwards? just a suggestion :))
Thank you so much for the idea! I have never written anything platonic before so I hope I do your idea justice! I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you don’t mind I took a couple of creative liberties writing this! It ended up being a little more serious than I planned when I started writing but it just flowed out! I didn’t have classes so I got to write so I’m posting earlier than I usually plan to which I’m happy about. I really appreciate you reaching out to me with this idea :) 
Confidant 
Loki x Reader 
warnings: none; angst
word count: 1.4k 
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Loki’s childhood is not entirely something he can look back on fondly. However, like many of us, he is blessed with several good memories that despite everything which has happened in his life, he looks back on fondly. One of these was you, it was always with you. In your youth, you and him were many times inseparable. That was years ago now, and even then, you weren’t in his life until his teen years. His best friend and confidant, forever loyal to him as he was to you.
Before becoming your friend, Loki had no previously been exposed to a relationship like it before. Other than his mother, who he loved dearly, he confided in no one about how he felt about his father, his feeling of inferiority when it came to Thor… It was all very internalized. However, even after making your acquaintance for the first time, it took him a very long time to open himself up to your kindness and your promise of friendship.
You had first met the god of mischief when you were living at the palace for an extended stay. Promising a group of Asgardian teenagers the finest education he could afford, Odin in an act of charity (but also a glorified publicity stunt) invited a handful of gifted students from the local school to learn under the tutelage of the finest minds. In layman’s terms, these students were invited to be taught alongside Thor and Loki during their academic term when it would normally be just the two brothers.
The first several days of lessons, the tutors instructed everyone to work in pairs and of course you were partnered with Loki. The first several days, he wouldn’t speak to you. He would compete the assignments without so much as look at you and then allowed you to take credit for half the work. He’d resist any sort of attempt you would make to make small talk or help with the tasks at hand, but he always refused.
You were very much like Loki as well, and you were oftentimes more alike than you would ever care to admit. You were just as ambitious and proud, and you wouldn’t stand to just sit back while he ignored you. You also didn’t have many friends. You were much more social than Loki, but like him you had no real lasting friendships. Eight of the brightest in your year were selected for this program and being one of them is not something you planned to take lightly.  
Eventually, you wore him down. You began to work together to complete assignments and you both were very competitive in getting the correct answer before the other. The back and forth was at first strictly academic, but he was still the closest thing you had to a friend. You enjoyed working with him immensely. You both started to see where the other exceled and you both knew when to let the other take lead. It was an exercise of trust and teamwork, the first positive experience of teamwork you both had.
There was an unspoken change between the two of you that evolved very naturally, even though you still both acted quite distant and closed off. There was mutual understanding of wanting company, but only being willing to extend yourself so far. He would take the spot next to you when dining, and you both would walk to and from lessons together.
Your quarters were down the hall from Thor and Loki. All of the students in the program were staying in the same wing of the house as the two princes. Your room was three down from Loki’s room. Your room and private bathroom were one of the nicest luxuries you were ever exposed to. Falling asleep every night had been so easy for you since staying at the palace, something you were never used to before in your lifetime. However, there was one night where you couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling no matter how much you tossed and turned looking for comfort. Normally, you would sink into the mattress engulfed in the lavish bedding and fall into a dream almost instantaneously. As the nights passed, the appeal of the large room and the oversized palace transformed more into a feeling of emptiness. You were one person and in a large room like that every night where the ceilings were as tall as giants, you felt more and more small.
You noticed when there was a dim light outside your door in the late hours of the night. You didn’t know the source, but you knew they were right outside your door. You closed your eyes, and buried yourself under the covers- not afraid of anything in particular but just the reaction to the fear of the unknown. The door to the room was gently pushed open and Loki revealed himself to you.
He looked small, just like how you felt. His eyes were red and swollen, his pale skin patchy and the lamp he held illuminated the tear stains on his cheeks. You could tell he was trying his best to keep himself together, and you could see the fear in his eyes and in his body language. It was a mix of him allowing himself to be so exposed emotionally, but also a reaction to the night terror he had just woken up from.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, closing the door behind him. He stood sheepishly. He realized his only instinct was to go to you but his plan stopped there. It was an involuntary response he didn’t stop to think about before coming to you to seek comfort. “I’m sorry for waking you. I just… I just had an absolutely terrible dream and I couldn’t bear to be alone.”
You nodded sympathetically and moved from the middle of the bed to one side. You pulled open the comforter so Loki could join you. He placed the lamp on the night table and turning it out, and then he tried his best to settle himself in the unfamiliar bed as he sinks in under the covers. You pull the blankets back up and his arms wrap themselves around your torso pulling you into a tight hug.
He needed someone and he didn’t know where else to go. Perhaps he could’ve sought out his mother, but he knew she might have sent him back to his own room. Which would’ve been fair, because he is no longer a child, even though there are many aspects of his life where he still feels like one. You feel the tenseness in his body ease away as you hug him back. The embrace doing wonders for the anxieties you faced as well. It was a moment you were not going to ruin by talking or asking him about his nightmare. It was a very comfortable silence, and his presence filled the room of the emptiness that was bothering you mere minutes before he arrived at your door.
For the first time in a very long time, Loki slept very easily. Just the touch of someone who seemed to understand and share his own stresses helped him more than he’d ever be able to communicate. Just the simple embrace was enough for now to allow him to rest easy. You rested your head into the crook of his neck and just comforted your friend in the darkness. He was cold, especially his hands. It was comforting combined with the extra warmth provided by the many pillows and layers of bedding. It was a perfect mix. It would be something he would never forget and yet also something he could never bring himself to thank you for.
After that night, the barrier you both had up seemed to gradually fade much faster than the pace it was going. Loki confided in you as a confidant and many times began to open up to you about his troubles. You understood each other and he loved that he never needed to explain himself… you just got each other.
He looks back at that year fondly, and he oftentimes regrets not making the effort to keep up with you over the years. However, whenever he did see you, it was like time and life had never interfered in your friendship. He’d see you at events at the palace, and you’d meet his eyes with the same familiar smile and greet him with a tight embrace that takes him back to all those years ago. You were a constant, never changing, when it came to your friendship to him. He was able to depend on that you were there. He could go a lifetime without seeing you, and yet he’d recognize you anywhere from the sound of your voice, or your laugh alone. It was an unbreakable bond.
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sanchosammy · 4 years ago
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You’re My Person - Chapter Two
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Word Count: 3980 - Chapter Two.
If you have any feedback, let me know! Much love to everyone who has been supporting chapter one. You’ve made my week!!
You loved working at the station so far. Nearly every morning for the past three weeks you walked through the doors full of happiness. It was only your second month living in Colorado Springs again but this had become your new comfortable in life.
Things just felt right in this job… in this town.
Not to mention you could say you had friends in town now. Well, kind of. It wasn’t the type of friends you had planned on making. Friends, nonetheless. For some reason the stubborn detectives found you tolerable to be around. It was never for perverted reasons, which you were thankful for. It would have been a ruined experienced for you considering you were a woman in a male dominated workplace. The group of grumps just liked you though and you found them humorous to be around.
Well, most of them liked you.
A particular detective would still avoid you as if you had the plague. That was Flip Zimmerman, of course. He did everything in his power to pretend you didn’t exist. You tried to find a chance to speak with him about everything; an attempt to bring some sort of truce between the two of you and find out why he hated you so much. That never worked out considering Flip refused to be alone in the same room with you.
The most you could get out of him was a few chuckles from his desk when he overheard a conversation between you and Ron. A slip up from his usual resentment filled attitude towards you. It was only this week that he stopped tensing up every time you walked into the room.
You leaned in the doorway with a smile. Jimmy, Flip and Ron grouped around a desk talking amongst themselves about something. Most likely about some case you assumed. You were meant to leave work a lot earlier as you should have been home by now, but tonight a coworker stopped you for conversation and it carried on a lot longer than you thought it would.
“Hey guys, I’m heading out. I’ll see you Monday.” You said while smiling at them.
This wasn’t an everyday thing but sometimes you found some sort of comfort in knowing there was someone you could say hello and goodbye to. Even if that happened to be your colleagues. The reality of living in Colorado Springs was not all roses and daises. This new lifestyle was nearly everything you wanted it to be but the fact is that nobody was waiting for you at home. That happened to be the only part that made you feel unsettled at the end of the day.
Jimmy smiled back with a brief wave before he returned back to studying the paper on the desk. Ron looked over as well and called back “Drive home safe, alright?”
You noticed how Flip watched the interaction wordlessly. A part of you hoped he would at least mumble some sort of goodbye but he remained silent throughout the interaction. You forced a smile as you turned around to leave. It was starting to become emotionally draining the longer he hated you. It was easy to not think about him when you lived somewhere else but this routine of having to see him physically loathe your presence each day was becoming more hurtful the longer it went on. You would’ve been understanding if he hadn’t felt anything when he saw you but this constant anger was kind of intense to deal with.
The air had already become bitter from the cold and it was only the beginning of fall. You could see your breath in front of you from the cold as you hurried into the car. The rides home had become such a bittersweet thing for you lately. It was calming after a long day at work but it still continued to bring forward that lonesome feeling inside.
Warm air blew out from the vent as the radio played softly keeping you distracted from the silence of the streets. The headlights illumining a soft light on the stretch of road ahead of you. This area of the ride home bothered you; it was a random stretch of nothing but trees until you hit the next neighborhood a mile away. You hummed with the soft music before a weird sound from the car cut you off.
And then another.
And another.
And then the car turned off completely as it began rolling to a complete stop. You pulled onto the side of the road immediately.
“Shit.” The only word that came to your mind was screamed out in frustration. You blinked looking at the now brightly lit gas-pump symbol mocking you from the dashboard.
You stepped out of the car and slammed the door out of anger. That anger mainly directed at yourself and now the poor car who had been starved thanks to your stupidity. You looked in both directions of the road trying to collect your thoughts. The closest gas station would be ten minutes away by car… Which wasn’t very helpful considering you didn’t have anything to put the gas in.
You let out a sigh while pressing your forehead against the cool metal of the door. The only answer coming to mind was to start walking in the direction of the store. At least it would have a phonebooth to call someone. And so, you started walking.
 A few minutes passed and the chilled weather was starting to make the tip of your nose burn. Headlights nearing you became a distraction on the otherwise empty and quiet road. An old truck slowed down as you became visible in the light and it eventually slowed to a stop next to you. You practically broke out a nervous sweat and swallowed hard trying to not seem freaked out.
The passenger window rolled down and you sucked in a breath.
“Flip?” His name coming out shaky as you said it. A mix between the cold and how surprised you were to see him out here.
“What are you doing out here?” His tone coming off harsh as he asked the question. His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked around the area for a hint to what you would be doing walking around at night.
“My car broke down… I ran out of gas.” You spoke up as you walked up to the window. The warmth from his truck felt heavenly.
He only briefly had taken in your appearance before speaking.
“Get in the truck, (Y/N).”  
The way he said it caught you off guard… It was as if there was no room for argument. No chance for you to say no. You paused for a brief second before pulling the door open. It was too cold out here to be stubborn. You didn’t care if he sounded that way at this point, you just didn’t want to walk any further in the dark. A small thank you came out as you practically jumped into the truck.
“Are you alright? Jesus, you’re fucking shaking.” He looked over you and it was the first time you’ve seen him so concerned about anything since you started working at the station. He turned the heat on a little higher. You hadn’t even replied yet as he did so.
“I’m fine, really. I was trying to find a phonebooth so I could call a tow truck or something.” You explained wrapping your jacket around you a little tighter. You looked over and the two of you made eye contact.
He had his red flannel on… something you really liked about him. He always looked so handsome at work in his plaid shirts. You only saw Flip from a distance because of how hard he made sure to keep away from you. Now being face to face with him, it made you grasp how attractive he really was. With you sitting in his truck across from him, you could even smell a soft presence of his cologne and it made your heartbeat faster in response.
“Fine? Your teeth are chattering.”
You snapped out of your thoughts and returned to the moment. You didn’t even notice the slight chatter until now. You tried to brush it off with a sheepish smile before continuing “I’m okay, I swear! I just…Would you be willing to drop me off at the gas station up the road, please?”
You sounded almost remorseful when you asked. You did feel guilt to some extent if you were being honest. He did everything in his ability to not speak with you and now he would be forced in a situation to drive you. And of course, you knew he’d do it purely out of his humanity rather than his feelings for you as a person.
He turned into his seat facing the steering wheel in front of him and his jaw tensed. He remained quiet without looking at you, seeming to be thinking it over intensely. Letting out a long-held breath before nodding more to himself than to you.
“I’ll just take you to get the gas… I have a container in the bed of the truck.” He wouldn’t look at you when he said it. His voice sounded forced and almost unsure if he wanted to let the words leave his lips.
Your voice coming out nearly a whisper from nerves. “Are you sure, I don’t mind waiting for a tow truck…”
He shook his head as he shifted the truck into drive. There were a few moments of silence from him as he picked up speed before deciding to finally speak up.  “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone at night.”
“That’s what makes you such a good man.” You commented. You don’t know why you said it. An understanding that you knew he was only doing this because it was the right thing to do?
The rest of the ride to the gas station was filled with an uncomfortable silence. He seemed uneasy by your presence in his truck. You didn’t understand why completely but you tried to seem casual throughout the ride. When you arrived at the pump, he stopped you as you started to open the truck door.
“Just stay in the truck.” You blinked before shuffling to pull out cash from your pocket but he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, I got it.”
Why was Flip being so polite… Awkward but polite, nonetheless. It confused you because he didn’t need to help you more than a ride here but he did. I mean, he didn’t seem fully happy about it but he didn’t leave you at the store.
You watched him as he pumped gas. His face showed how drained he seemed as the cold wind gently brushed his hair around. He looked tired and ready to be home… That thought floating in the back of your mind, who was at home waiting for him? Would they notice he wasn’t home at a usual time?
Anxiety rushed through you as a new realization hit. This was most likely the only time Flip would even speak to you. It was the only time he has even spoken to you in the past three weeks. It was wrong to use his generosity this way by cornering him but it was the only opportunity you had to force a conversation with him about his attitude towards you.
The ten-minute car ride you had left was going to have to be enough. You couldn’t let this chance slip away. You needed some sort of answer… Fuck, you just needed him to acknowledge you. There was a weird emptiness consuming you without him in your life. He was so close and yet always out of grasp. You wanted that childhood Philip back.
He slid back into his seat and pulled back out onto the road. He seemed a little less tense than before, one hand now on the wheel that he was no longer holding onto like it was his lifeline. You cleared your throat and attempted to get the conversation going. Start small, work your way up.
“I guess you’ll have to apologize to your wife for me. I’m sorry for making you get home so late.”
He raised an eyebrow from confusion but his eyes remained on the road ahead. He just mumbled back in that deep voice “I’m not married.”
“Girlfriend?” You asked almost too quickly.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Dog?”
That earned the softest of a chuckle out of him before a quiet no. You had butterflies at your ability to make him laugh even if it was a small one. You hated to admit how happy you felt knowing he was single. As if you had a chance though, the man treated you like a criminal.
“What about you? You don’t have someone worried sick that you’re not home yet?” He asked with an unsure voice and that shocked you. Flip was actually making conversation.
“Nah, nobody is waiting for me. I just moved back to town two months ago… My uncle Tommy left his place to me.”
“I’m sorry about Tommy, by the way.” He replied in a soft voice. The sympathy made you emotional and you forcibly held back some tears at the thought of your uncle.
“Thanks…”
You paused to calm down and simply collect your thoughts. You didn’t have time to cry in his truck. “So… I never pictured you being a detective. What’s that about?”
He looked over at you for a second before his eyes trailed back to the road again. He chewed on the side of his cheek as he thought about it for a moment. He was withdrawing again; you could feel it.
“Yeah, I don’t know. I like it.”
This was the wrong time to bring up the problem at hand but you knew deep down that he may never speak to you again anyway, and so you had to take that step now. You didn’t want to beat around the bush, you wanted an answer from him.
“Hey, I was actually hoping to talk to you…”
“Shoot.” He said without a second thought.
“I noticed that you don’t seem to like having me around at the station. Frankly, you seem to downright hate me. I don’t know what I did to make you this upset but I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’d hate for work to be this weird for us forever, you know?”
His hand tightened against the steering wheel and his knuckle practically turned white this time. It seemed to be a regular occurrence with him when he’s bothered. He let out a forced bitter laugh to himself. Not the reaction you hoped for.
“What?” You asked dumbfounded.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He snapped at you in response.
“No, I want to talk about this Philip.”
“Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to talk about, (Y/N)?” He snapped again and his bitterness flowed back through his words and tone. His face twisting with irritation as he tried to focus on driving as if this conversation wasn’t happening.  
“Well, I do! You’re the one walking around the station with a stick up your ass all the time. At least I’m being an adult about this and trying to make amends. Which I would say is pretty mature considering I haven’t done anything to you.”
You knew this wasn’t the correct way to go about things. You planned for this conversation to be calm and talked through with understanding and respect for each other… However, all that went out of your mind the moment you heard that same attitude he would have when you were kids. It only brought out your own.
His eyebrows shot up as he scoffed at you, looking over for a moment to see if you were serious or not.  “Never done anything to me? That right there is your problem, (Y/N). You never took any sort of accountability for what you did to me.”
“What did I fucking do to you, Zimmerman? I would love an explanation as to why you’re such an asshole to me lately.”
“Because you fucking left me!” He screamed and it practically stunned you speechless. He didn’t care though. You opened up something that he tried for years to keep concealed, all his grief and anger from the situation finally releasing itself. The mental torture that you had put him through was finally being placed on display. “You left me. No warning, no phone call, no letter. Nothing. I thought you would come back but then you didn’t. I waited for you like a fucking idiot.” He slammed his hand against the dashboard at the last sentence, a reaction from the sudden hit of adrenaline and rush of emotion. He continued on, his voice still incredibly loud in the truck “And then I was convinced you had died! There was even a fucking rumor in school that you and your family died in a car crash and that’s why everyone in your house disappeared. I mean I had to hear about that for three fucking years.”
“I’m… I didn’t know, okay?” your voice was soft and you stuttered through the words. “This wasn’t all on me! I had no idea it was going to happen. Dad packed everything while I was at school that day and… I don’t know, Flip. I think he tried to skip town because he owed more than he could pay off.”
The truck had become deathly quiet for a minute. You didn’t know what to say and you felt left in a state of shock by his outburst. He was right though. Looking back on everything, that must have been awful to deal with… someone disappearing without a trace. It was fair to say you never had a choice over the situation, your father having removed all connection from Colorado Springs. You knew he couldn’t keep a job and later heard rumors that he was constantly asking for loans from local friends. Friends he never saw again after he left town.
You tried to keep in the tears and forced yourself not to sniffle. You couldn’t handle being seen as the same crybaby you were considered during your childhood arguments with Flip. Clearing your throat and attempting to speak without your voice cracking, which didn’t really work out. “When we moved, I was devasted… I was just as heartbroken. The last thing I ever wanted to do is hurt you, I know it doesn’t seem like that but I promise I would’ve given you the world if you asked me… God, I’m so sorry Philip.”
Flip slowed down and pulled over near your car. You looked over at him wondering what was going on through his mind. Flip didn’t move hardly and he refused to look at you. His eyes closed and his body remained tense. The only thing noticeable being his chest rising with heavy breathes.
You didn’t know what he was thinking. He had finally got something off his chest that he was holding onto for several years. You imagined this was his closure; that he could finally move on from the past and open up a new chapter. With a heavy exhale you decided to not force him to say anything.
“Listen… I understand now. You won’t have to speak with me again outside of the job…. Thanks for the ride, Flip.” You practically whispered. It wasn’t bitter or cruel when you said it but sincere. You don’t blame him for not wanting to see your face. You wouldn’t want to see you every day if you were in his position.
You pushed the truck door open and the cold air hit your harder this time. The fresh tears on your face felt warm because of it. You couldn’t help but shiver slightly from a mix of adrenaline and stepping out of the warm truck. Lifting the gas container from the back of his truck was surprisingly a lot heavier than you expected and you attempted to not show that.  
The truck door opened forcefully before it was slammed out of presumed anger. The sound of the metal clicking together was full of intense emotion. A part of you grimaced from the sound alone. He probably noticed you having trouble with the container and felt obligated to help you, and that bothered you intensely.
You turned around ready to turn down his offer and tell him you have it under control before you stopped in your tracks. He was storming around the car and you didn’t know what this meant for you. He hardly stopped in front of you as he didn’t hesitate to cup your face with his warm hands bringing you into a kiss. Full of passion and lost time between the two of you. He didn’t hold back as you stumbled backwards into the side of his truck, which he practically pushed you against with his own body.
He was the one to pull away after a moment and it left the both of you breathing heavily. He didn’t say anything about the conversation, the kiss, or anything at all. You watched as he picked up the gas container and poured it in the car for you silently. You didn’t want to say anything though. Nearly numb and high from the feeling of his kiss; you couldn’t think any further about what this meant right now so instead you watched him pour the gas.
 He finished and placed the container into the bed of the truck. You watched him closely as he stepped closer to you and you don’t know why but he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His chin resting on the top of your head, much like he would do when you were teenagers. The memory of him teasing you about the height difference resurfacing from the action and you couldn’t help but smile from the feeling of doing this again.
Flip was warm and he smelled like a mix of men’s cologne and cigarettes. You liked it, honestly. His arms wrapped around you made you feel secure and it was the first time in a while that you felt this way. A fear was already settling in that this could be the last time and it scared the shit out of you. It was too soon to even ask him to not let this be the last time he holds you this way… Did he even forgive you for everything? Was this his way of showing forgiveness?
He pulled away without any rush before pulling you by your hand to the car door. He opened it and held it ready for you. You slipped into the driver’s seat of your car and finally looked at him. This whole thing feeling unreal and somewhat like a fever dream. He seemed unsure of what he wanted to say and so instead he leaned down slightly.
“Get home safe, okay?”
“You too, Flip…” You whispered back. He smiled softly looking over your face for a moment. Like this was the first time he had truly looked at you since you came back. Then shutting the door and standing there waiting. He didn’t return to his truck until you pulled back onto the road; you could see him watching you from the rearview mirror as you slowly pulled off.
You didn’t know what this meant for the two of you. Was this an accident from him? An attempt at finding some sort of peace from the past?
You hoped he would continue whatever that was. You’d never been kissed like that in your life. You’ve never felt any sort of spark between you and another person like that, and you honestly craved more of him.
Work was going to be weird Monday.
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emeto-no-jutsu · 4 years ago
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Could you do an emto fic with sasuke being sick and a parental kakashi taking care of him?
Oooooh okay, my first request....it feels kinda nerve-wracking lmfao ngl
It's not my favorite thing I have ever written??? But enjoy?? And RB if you do??????
Anyway LMFAO enjoy the fic
TW:::::: Emeto, sickness and an emotionally repressed boi under the cut:::::::::
Kakashi frowned as he arrived at his team’s usual meeting spot. Sakura was already berating Naruto this early in the morning, but what caught his attention was the fact that one of his students, who was usually the most punctual, was missing.
“Where’s sasuke?” He asked as soon as he leapt off the railing above the bridge where he’d been observing the scene. Sakura stopped her rant at once, and Kakashi could see the uneasiness etched on her face. Naruto huffed, rolling his eyes at the mention of his teammate with a pout.
“That’s what we were talking about, sensei.” The pinkette explained. “He’s usually the first one to arrive…”
“Stupid Teme probably overslept-”
“Shut up you idiot!” The girl snapped ferociously, making the blond flinch as her green eyes glared at him. “This is Sasuke-kun we’re talking about! If he’s late he must have a good enough reason!” 
Kakashi sighed at their antics, but couldn’t deny that the girl had a point. He’d expect something like this from Naruto, not from Sasuke, and the fact that he didn’t warn the team of his absence beforehand was all the more concerning. “I think we should go check on him, Kakashi-sensei.” 
“Yeah, I think so too,” Kakashi didn’t know if her request stemmed from actual worry or if she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to go to the boy’s house for the first time, but considering how out of character this whole situation was he felt like this would be the appropriate course of action.
Naruto complained a little, promptly earning a blow to the head from Sakura, and soon they were on their way. The two kids followed Kakashi as they approached Sasuke’s neighborhood, reaching the Uchiha’s address not fifteen minutes later.
They were beginning to think Sasuke wasn’t even home at all before the door was answered after the doorbell was rang for the third time, and maybe Sakura’s concern was valid because the boy truly looked awful. 
His bangs seemed to be plastered to his forehead with sweat and there was a greenish hue under his paler-than-normal complexion. His onyx eyes were bloodshot as he glared at them and Kakashi could see the shirtless boy was making an effort to not hunch over. “What?”
“Um...y-you were late for training,” Sakura stammered, ignoring the raging flush that took over her complexion at seeing her crush bare-chested. 
“I’m sick?” The boy stated the obvious. “Didn’t you see the bunshin I sent?”
“In your state, I wouldn’t be surprised if it dissipated before reaching us,” Said Kakashi.
“Yeah Sasuke, you really do look like crap,” Naruto commented, earning a glare both from Sakura and Sasuke, but the latter didn't really hold any force behind it.
“Well, if that’s all then,” The boy tried to shut the door on their faces, but Kakashi pushed it open with ease, letting himself in and willingly ignoring Sasuke’s deep scowl.
“What?!”
“We need to make sure you’re okay, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura said as she and Naruto followed Kakashi inside the apartment. It was all very neat, but you would expect as such from someone like Sasuke. 
“I’ll be fine,” The boy retorted tiredly, not even having enough energy to argue, which in itself was a big red flag. “Can’t you three just leave me alone for once?”
“No, we can’t,” Kakashi responded easily as he watched the boy heavily sit at his sofa, swallowing hard with a pained grimace that indicated clearly that his last statement was a lie.
“What’s wrong? Have you been throwing up?”
“That’s all I’ve been doing since I woke up,” 
“Aw, Sasuke-kun…” Sakura cooed sitting beside him and rubbing his shoulder, but the boy clearly didn’t appreciate the display of affection as he flinched like a cat drenched in water. 
“Look, I’ll probably be fine tomorrow,” He hissed. “I don’t want you all here,”
“Woah there Sasuke, no need to get all snarky just because of a tummy ache!” Naruto teased maliciously through a grin, making the older boy scowl.
“Just...shut up, Naruto,” Sasuke didn’t look like he could come up with a good comeback even if he wanted to. Kakashi narrowed his eyes as his face blanched slightly, a very subtle twitch in his eyebrows that would go unnoticed by lesser shinobi indicated that the boy was focusing every ounce of discipline on trying to not let his face betray how he truly felt. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you Dobe?” He managed to shoot back through clenched teeth.
“Y’know what Teme-”
“Quit it Naruto!” Sakura roared besides sasuke, making the boy wince. “Can’t you see he isn’t feeling well?!”
“That applies to both of you,” Kakashi spoke up for the sake of his student, who seemed ready to hurl at any minute now and all that yelling they had grown used to could not be helping. “Actually, I need you two to bring some things from the store, after that you’re dismissed for today,”
“B-But Kakashi-Sensei!” Sakura stood up. “Won’t you need help taking care of him?!”
“I’m sure I can handle this myself, Sakura,” The man said, handing her the cash he had retrieved from his pocket. “Get some stomach relaxers, probably something for fever too...Oh, make sure to get him something to drink with electrolytes in it, got it?”
Sakura clearly disappointed at being ushered out the door by Kakashi and even Naruto seemed like he’d rather stay, but they were known for disrupting the peace, and that was clearly not what the raven haired boy needed at the moment.
Sure enough, Kakashi had barely closed the door when the kid shot up on rather wobbly legs and quickly made a beeline to the bathroom. Kakashi grimaced when he heard the loud retch that echoed through the house and followed the boy.
Sasuke groaned when the man kneeled down to his level and started rubbing his back, but didn’t fight it. Kakashi made sure to keep his long bangs out of the danger zone as Sasuke retched mouthfuls of murky vomit in waves. It was clear that he didn’t have much left in him to puke up, but his body seemed to not get that memo quite yet.
After about ten minutes he inhaled sharply, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, slumping slightly against Kakashi. “You’re done?”
“Dunno,” His voice sounded rather slurred, which was uncharacteristic, and closed his eyes. His arms snaked around his middle tightly and Kakashi sighed, not letting go of his shoulders.
“We should probably get you in bed,” Sasuke nodded after a moment of hesitance. He flushed the toilet and stood up on his own, insisting he didn’t need help and Kakashi didn’t try to argue in order to not upset the already sick boy, but he did stay close behind.
Soon he was situated on his bed. “You can leave now,” He said to his sensei, trying to sound sharp but only emphasizing how shaky he sounded. “I can take care of myself.”
“Hmm, can you?” Kakashi humored the boy. “Have you taken your temperature yet? Or tried to keep yourself hydrated at all?” His already flushed cheeks darkened and he avoided his eyes which said no as clearly as if he had said it out loud. “Do you even own a thermometer?”
“Obviously,” He replied caustically and Kakashi ignored his tone as he went on to search for said thermometer. Thankfully, with Sasuke being as organized as he was it didn’t take too long for him to find it inside the first aid’s kid under the bathroom sink. 
he walked back into the room not five minutes later with the emptied trash can from the bathroom and thermometer in hand. Sasuke already seemed on the verge of drifting off to sleep, and Kakashi almost felt bad for having to rouse him up again. “I need to take your temperature, open up.”
“Tch,” Sasuke unceremoniously grabbed the contraption from his sensei’s hands and stuck it under his own tongue. Kakashi just rolled his eyes, that kid was too proud for his own good.
“Well okay then,”  Said him with an exasperated sigh. “Keep that in for three minutes.”
“I know,”
“Of course you do.”
The boy pouted, and Kakashi allowed himself to crack an amused grin under the mask. Even mature and stoic, first in his class, prodigy Sasuke Uchiha was still, at the end of the day, only just a kid. Kahashi saw himself so much in that boy that it was almost painful, but he chose not to dwell on that at that moment.
The thermometer finally beeped, and Kakashi was slightly relieved when Sasuke handed it to him. Sure, he had a fever, but it was far more manageable than the man first thought. His drowsy voice must have been a product of exhaustion and exertion. “You’re gonna be fine,”
“I keep telling you-”
“You still have a fever,” Kakashi interrupted pointedly. “I’m just glad I don’t have to drag you to the hospital because of it,” Sasuke rolled his eyes, burying himself under the sheets. and turning on its side. “Alright, I’ll let you sleep. The other two should be back with your medicine soon though,”
Sasuke let out one of his usual noncommittal grunt and Kakashi offered a concealed wry smile, ruffling his hair like he usually did and closing the door behind him.
When he got to the living room he noticed a small brown paper bag at the coffee table with a little note attached to it. He didn’t know if he should feel ashamed for not even noticing his students’ presence while he was busy with Sasuke or if he ought to commend Sakura and Naruto for their stealth.
He considered giving Sasuke his medication right away, but decided against it. He seemed fine for now and the kid had just gotten to sleep.
“What are you still doing here?”
He would be okay, Kakashi would make sure of that.
------------------------------------------------------------
Kakashi looked up from his book with raised eyebrows to the young uchiha frowning at him from the hallway,though the fact that he was wrapped around a rather fluffy comforter didn’t make him nearly as intimidating . “Making sure my student doesn’t keel over,” Sasuke huffed. “I’m a good sensei,” The look on his face indicated that he was itching to disagree, but instead he just rubbed his eyes, blinking tiredly as he watched night set in through the window.
“What time is it?” 
“About six,”
“Six?” He narrowed his eyes, confusion clouding his features and Kakashi had a feeling he seemed more out of it than before he went to sleep. “But it was morning…?”
“Yup. And then noon, then afternoon. Now it’s evening,” 
“I slept a lot…” The boy mumbled, not picking up the irony. He looked far younger suddenly, with his flushed cheeks and still rubbing his sleep out of his eyes, the comforter making him seem smaller than he really was. 
“Well, you needed it,” Kakashi didn’t miss the way he swayed slightly as he walked up to sit besides him, crashing down on the sofa with a heavy huff. “How do you feel?”
He blinked, considering himself for a moment before responding. “I’m slightly...dizzy,”
“You’re dehydrated,” Kakashi said, pressing his palm against the boy’s forehead and ignoring the groan of protest. “And your fever seems to have gone up. How’s your stomach?”
“Not good,” Kakashi nodded, heading towards the kitchen where he’d already set the tablets and the electrolyte-enhanced water, now regretting not administering it to the kid earlier. He walked back to the room, deciding it’d be better if he brought along a deep mixing bowl too just in case.
“Here,” Sasuke wordlessly took the supplies from his hand and uncapped the water bottle, quickly gulping at least half of it before Kakashi had a chance to stop him. “Oi, not too fast! You’re gonna make yourself sick,” Kakashi took the bottle out of his hands quickly, shaking his head.
“But I’m thirsty,”
“Yeah, I can see that!” Kakashi watched the way his body reacted to the sudden influx of fluid warily, but when everything seemed to stay put he handed the bottle back to him. “Slow sips, and take the meds.” 
Sasuke mumbled something under his breath that sounded awfully like a jab at his sensei but it went ignored as Kakashi walked back to the kitchen and returned with a steaming bowl and a pair of chopsticks each with an unnerving expression that indicated he was smiling behind the mask.
Sasuke groaned, tossing back the medicine and pailing as the smell of food reached his nose. “What is that?”
“Broth and noodles,”kakashi answered with those same smiling eyes that made sasuke want to hide under his comforter.
“Kakashi-sensei,” Sasuke drew a deep breath as his sensei set the offending bowl at the table in front of him. “Please don’t ask me to eat that.”
“I’m not asking, Sasuke.” He said firmly, making the boy wince in aversion. “You need to at least try to eat something,”
“It even won’t stay down…” His voice sounded almost whiny, a quality Kakashi would never attribute to the Uchiha. The man let out a breath, feeling sympathetic towards his student.
“Well, it’s better to have something on your stomach too, y’know, bring up.” He assured, ruffling his hair before pushing the bowl to his hands. “C’mon, you don’t have to eat everything right now,”
Sasuke sighed heavily, closing his eyes as though he was having a very serious internal debate before shrugging, taking the bowl from Kakashi’s hand and taking a tentative sip from the broth.
He was rather pleasantly surprised. The taste wasn’t strong, which he was thankful for, but also not revoltingly bland, the noodles were just the right texture and even in his state he could appreciate good food, and couldn’t help but wonder- “Did you make this?”
Kakashi, who was back to reading his debauched book by that point, smirked at him. Or rather, Sasuke assumed he did. “What’s with the tone of surprise?”
“It’s…” He could feel the broth warm him from inside out, and even though there was still an uncomfortable tightness assaulting his stomach it seemed settled for the moment. “It’s really good.”
“Thanks,” Kakashi ruffled his hair annoyingly. He did this so often Sasuke didn’t even mind anymore. “It’s made with love,”
“Shut up,” He mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up more than they already were and Kakashi let out an airy laugh through his mask, but soon they fell into a comfortable silence. 
The soup really was good, but something that Sasuke couldn’t quite put into words made it slightly better. it wasn’t a matter of taste but a feeling deep inside him that he associated with it. 
And then he remembered a very similar dish Mikoto prepared for him every time he felt even slightly under the weather and felt his heart clench.
It seemed like as soon as he realized the memories weighed his mind like a brick. He used to fall ill rather often as a child, and every time without fail he would be coddled and pampered by his mother.
And of course, Itachi. 
It was almost set in stone. He’d so much as start sniffling and the house would be filled with those same smells, she’d tuck him in, Itachi would let him sleep with him more often than not. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d been this sick since-
He dropped his chopsticks as his hands slacked. Suddenly, his ears were ringing as he felt his throat swell up and his mouth water. He couldn’t even hear what Kakashi had said before his head was forced downwards and the bowl of soup was replaced by a plastic mixing bowl just in time for him to let out a wet burp that carried with it a good portion of his undigested meal.
His stomach which had been pleasantly stable for the better part of the last hour felt like it was about to be torn apart as his once pleasant meal rushed out of him violently, barely allowing him any time to breath.
Kakashi had pinned his hair back at one point and was rubbing soothing circles around his back, but he wished he didn’t, as it reminded him too much of a simpler past. Sasuke had grown used to dealing with things such as this on his own, and having someone be so nurturing for the first time in years was almost triggering to him.
His abdomen contracted roughly against his will and he spewed violently once again. His throat felt raw, his sinus was burning with the bits and pieces that got stuck there during the whole ordeal and his stomach felt so sore that he couldn’t suppress the pathetic whine that left him when he was done.
“Kami-sama…” Kakashi muttered under his breath. “You shouldn’t have forced yourself,” Kakashi didn’t understand what had triggered this sudden and severe bout of sickness, but he preferred it that way. He didn’t even truly know himself. “Are you-”
“I’m fine,” Sasuke forced through gritted teeth, but this statement couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was shaking, he could barely breathe without his airways burning, his body pulsated with the strain and his mind was clouded with fever and memories he’d do anything to forget. 
He pushed the filthy bowl Kakashi was still holding under his chin aside and supported his head on his hands, groaning pitifully as Kakashi decided to run a hand through his hair. Why was he doing that? Sasuke wanted to scream when he felt a knot form on his throat and his eyes sting.
He was not going to cry. Not in front of his fucking sensei. He wasn’t a child, so why the hell was Kakashi still trying to comfort him like he was? 
Kakashi pulled Sasuke into an embrace before the boy could really realize what was happening, a hand protectively holding his head while the other patted him on the back. “You’re gonna be okay,” He said, his voice taking a tone Sasuke had never heard before. He tried to pull away because he smelled of vomit and sweat and this was weird, but Kakashi’s iron grip wouldn’t let him. “You are not alone anymore.”
And maybe it was the fever messing with his mind, maybe he was simply too sick to do anything about it, but there were tears running down his face before the man had said those words. A sob escaped his chest, then another, and Kakashi refused to let him go. 
Not being alone was such a foreign concept to him that it was intimidating. How could he allow people to see beyond the mask he had crafted for himself to cope. How could he allow his sensei, one of the most notorious shinobis of his era see him in his most weak, pathetic state?
But when was the last time he was held like this? That he was assured everything would be okay? 
When was the last time he was actually cared for?
And it felt good. It felt so good that he soon found himself reciprocating Kakashi’s embrace and burying his face in his chest. If the man was bothered that he was smearing tears, snot and more than likely vomit all over his flak jacket, he didn’t show it.
Sasuke sobbed himself hoarse that night, four years of bottled up emotions and traumas seemingly exploding out of him at once, and Kakashi never left his side. Later on neither shinobi would ever speak about the events of that evening ever again.
Undoubtedly though, something shifted in their relationship after that. Sasuke thought that he’d lost everyone he would even know as family on that godforsaken day, but family had a way to creep up on you unexpectedly, whether you liked it or not.
Sasuke started appreciating his teacher a lot more than he ever thought possible.
31 notes · View notes
mystic-kitten-writer · 5 years ago
Text
Limerence [M] ︳32
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Pairing: Zuko x OC
Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.
Rating: SFW
Words: 14300+
Notes: It’s here! Get ready for the flood of emotions, sorry not sorry. But it's also crazy to see how far the story has gotten now. Did you know that I passed my one-year anniversary for this story (silently cries by myself in the corner). I'm so emotionally attached to this story it's stupid. But I hope you enjoy the story, and thank you for the awesome love and support!
Please stay healthy and safe, take care~!
Masterlist ︳Bonus pt. 2 [M] ︳ 33
❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤
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Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.
The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.
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Tacenda
(Latin/n.) Things better left unsaid; not to be mentioned to the public.
~ Ying Yue Jiang ~
            “You know…you have beautiful eyes, Princess.”
            “Awe, thanks, Sokka.”
            “Too bad your face is ugly.”
            “I swear-”
            The immature hoots that erupted from Sokka were loud and clear. His belly rumbled in amusement, entertained at my exasperated expression as I rested over his stomach.
            We were lounging in Zuko’s and I bedroom, munching on cookies on our bed, despite it being early in the morning. Zuko already rose and went for a morning jog – and I would be lying if I said I didn’t use the excuse of me being under the weather to avoid that run.
            It was as Zuko was leaving that Sokka busted through the grand doors, still in his polar bear pyjamas, with a plate of cookies in hand – “I wanted to check up on Princess, see how she’s feeling.”
            And that leads us to where we were now.
            I grumbled under my breath, stuffing another fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookie into my mouth as Sokka beamed down at me. Despite the pointless banter and teasing, Sokka and I were venting to each other; I was beyond happy. I never realized how much I missed spending time with him – he was my partner in crime, the person who helped me learn to laugh again.
            And while Sokka has been by my side from the beginning – we never got a chance to hang out as much as I would’ve wanted. Appreciate the presence of each other, even though ‘sibling time’ means tons of teasing and humiliation.
            A hand rested behind his head as he leaned against the bedframe, stuffing another cookie in his mouth. His hair has grown so much already.
            Usually, it was up in a messy top knot, but today, he let his hair down. Zuko still had the lengthiest hair out of the guys, but Sokka was starting to prove himself to be a worthy competitor. I was always jealous of how attractive Katara’s and Sokka’s brown hair was. There were natural blond highlights, and it complimented their baby blue eyes.
            “Hey…did Aang bring Momo?” I pondered out loud; brows pinched as I tried to recall the last time I saw that mischievous creature. He was already so infuriatingly elusive, but now that we were in the Kingdom, it was like he vanished.
            “Yeah, but you know how Momo is…” Sokka mumbled under his breath, more focused on chewing the cookie stuffed in his mouth than answering my question.
            “I haven’t seen him once!” I exclaimed, and Sokka snorted, “Join the club. I asked Aang the other day, told me Momo is hiding out in the kitchen.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes hearing that – of course, Momo is there. Appa would’ve joined Momo if he were here and could fit.
            “Explains why the kitchen staff is panicking. They keep complaining that the food keeps disappearing – scared it could be a ghost.”
            “You know what would be really funny…” Sokka considered, and based off the tone alone – I knew he was thinking of something evil. My mouth opened and closed, fighting the temptation to ask because I knew better. There was a reason why Sokka and I got along; we were the definition of dumb and dumber.
            My lips puckered, and the next thing I knew, I turned on my side, facing Sokka eagerly –“What’s your plan?” Sokka grinned, sitting upright. I yelped, body rolling onto his lap, and in a bold move – he put down the plate of sweets on the bed. He means business.
            “What if we covered Momo in flour – make him look like a ghost? The kitchen staff would lose their minds.”
            “Sokka~! I can already imagine the mess.”
            “And I can already imagine the looks on their faces when they see a ghost.” I huffed, crossing my arms. “No, Zuko will kill me if he finds out it was us.”
            “Keyword, if.”
            “Where is Katara when you need her?!” I groaned to myself. If Katara were here, she would’ve shut down this plan before Sokka could even think of it. She was the mother of the group for a reason – she kept us all in check.
            I grabbed a cookie from the plate that Sokka set aside, shoving it against Sokka’s lips. “Lie back down and eat a cookie.” I pestered, the only way I knew how to distract him. Sokka laughed against the cookie I practically stuffed, trying to chew the whole thing in one go.
            “Aren’t you excited? She’s arriving tonight.” He mumbled between chomps. An enormous smile appeared on my lips, brushing my bedhead hair away from my face. “I can’t wait!” I gushed, body sprawling across the bed as I hugged my teddy bear close to my chest.
            My gaze shifted upwards, staring at the wooden lined ceiling above us, with a silly look. It’s been how long since I’ve last seen Katara? It felt like forever, but I knew it was only a few months. Woah…me and Zuko haven’t been dating for that long, have we?
            It felt like Zuko, and I have been together for years – but not in a bad way. I just felt so comfortable with him. Our routines, how open we are with each other, it was surprising to think that we haven’t been together for that long. But also look at everything that happened, everything we have gone through together…
            It’s no surprise we’re as close as we are. We practically went through everything a couple may experience over their lifetime in a span of a few months. Add in the fact that he’s the ruler of a nation – things get a bit complicated.
            “She’s going to freak out when she hears everything that is going on.
            I pouted, snapping my head towards Sokka, “She doesn’t know?” Sokka grimaced, his silliness gone and face stern, “No. We didn’t want to give too much information via messenger bird or attached to Appa. It could get intercepted. It’s not worth the risk.”
            A blue silence fell between us; my gaze returned to the ceiling, lost in my thoughts. Despite all the smiles, the giggles, the sweet moments of bliss – that didn’t change the current chaos around us. Mai is a traitor, Azula is back, and Yakone-
            It was like someone punched me.
            The mere mention of Yakone had a shiver running up my spine, the hairs on my arms rising in terror. Zuko didn’t mention his name once around me, and I wonder if it was because he knew how shaken up I was after the incident. The worst part of it all was I still had the handkerchief Yakone gave me that night when he comforted me, hidden away in my vanity. Gosh, I should’ve thrown it out, burnt it –anything, but keeping it.
            I didn’t know why I even kept the stupid thing. Maybe it was to remind me that Yakone wasn’t that evil as a man? That there was still a little bit of good left in him. Yakone knew my family’s crane story.
            Dumb luck?
            He’s also a Bloodbender.
            But Aang told me that-
            “Princess…how is your ‘Fire Nation Politics’ lessons going?” Sokka asked, his voice cutting my thoughts in half. I couldn’t help but jump slightly in surprise, and Sokka’s hand fell over my forehead, a soothing gesture spotting my uneasiness.
            “Hmm? S-sorry, I didn’t hear properly.” I mumbled quickly, looking up at Sokka. He rolled his eyes at my aloofness, flicking my head before speaking again, “You’re lessons involving politics. Zuko told me you’ve been learning a few things.”
            I groaned loudly.
            Gosh, bloody Fire Nation politics.
            The moment I accepted that stupid Imperial Consort seal, I’ve had to brush up on my Fire Nation knowledge. From previous Fire Lords, customs, family trees, and laws – I wanted to cry. It wasn’t that it wasn’t interesting, it was just so much information thrown at me at once.
            My hands fell over my face as I internally sobbed.
            “It’s so difficult. I understand the basics, but the system here seems so backwards at times.” I whined into my hands, venting all the annoyance I had bottled up. There were so many things going on; at this point, I felt like I was memorizing words rather than understanding.
            But knowing the rules did help out and gave me the chance to fire that meanie of a councilmember…Maybe I did understand more than I was giving myself credit for. But with everything else going on at the moment, my head hurt tons.
            “Why don’t you ask Zuko to help you out, Princess? He is kind of like, the Fire Lord.” My hands dropped from my face, opting to throw my arms into the air in defeat. “I don’t want to bother Zuko. He has so much on his plate. I want to do this on my own.”
            “But Princess, this is his job. He’ll help if you ask– he wants to help.”
            I huffed to myself, biting my lips in frustration, “I know, but...I-uhh-I don’t know. I don’t want to. Have you seen the book I had to read for this week?”
            Sokka shook his head, and I grumbled to myself, “On my nightstand. See that ridiculously thick book? Yeah, try reading a page and not fall asleep.” Sokka laughed at the evident disgust in my voice, grinning madly as he reached to his side. Just thinking about the book had me shivering in fear.
            But I was trying.
            Watching the way Zuko worked on a daily, it made me want to work just as hard. I wanted the prove everyone wrong – that I wasn’t some arm candy for Zuko. That I knew what I was doing… Sometimes, it felt like Zuko was the only one who believed in me in this kingdom. I won the people’s hearts – now I had to prove to the council that I can do this.
            I closed my eyes, letting my arm rest over my eyes, the migraine that I’ve had still dully throbbing.
            It was strange, for the past five or so days, I kept fluctuating from feeling better to isolating myself in bed. My body was hurting; my head felt like a hot mix of heavy and aching. Was having a cold always this annoying? I usually had Katara heal me; I haven’t experienced a full-blown illness in years.
            “I’m gonna read where you have your bookmark,” Sokka spoke, and I merely nodded.
            Although…I don’t remember leaving a bookmark in my book…I didn’t make it far enough to bother putting one. I could hear Sokka snort as if he was trying to sniffle in a laugh-
            “Yesterday, Zuko used the lounging area after our bath, and I couldn’t be happier! He looked sooooo cute sitting there, reading. He almost fell asleep-”
            “OH MY GOSH SOKKA STOP!” I screamed. This asshole was reading my bloody journal!
            Sokka jumped out of bed, the fastest I’ve ever seen him move. I don’t even think he’s moved this fast or much during his times in battles. His bare feet hit the ground with a loud thud, laughing obnoxiously loud as he watched my expression of pure humiliation.
            My eyes were bulging, cheeks a flaming hot red as I jumped in the bed, frantically trying to grab the notebook from his grasp.
            “I love how when Zuko thinks he pouts like a child and-”
            “Sokka STOP – give it back!” I moaned loudly, embarrassment about to eat me alive and be my cause of death. But my cries fell upon deaf ears, Sokka smiling like the cat that got the cream and sliding away from me. I huffed stridently, flying off the bed and flailing my arms stupidly.
            Toph and I were the same height, which meant that everyone was outlandishly taller than us by two heads, minimum. I hopped up and down, trying my hardest to get Sokka to shut up – oh my gosh, I’m going to strangle him. But he just rose his arms high above him, reading the damn diary loud and proud. Please don’t read more, or else he’s going to-
            “It’s crazy to think that it’s those same pouty lips that left these hickies- OH NO. I’m GOING TO KILL HIM!” Sokka raged, his face matching my red face.
            I lunged forward, digging my shoulder into Sokka’s stomach.
            Both of us went tumbling down on the floor, sounding like thunder during a rainstorm. One would have thought we were doing some training exercise at the amount of effort and roughhousing we were currently engaging in. Who needs a morning run when you have a dumbass older brother reading your diary?
            “Give it back to me!”
            “NEVER. I swear, what else has that asshole done? I’m bringing you back home after we figure this stuff out!”
            “OH shut up, Sokka. I’m staying here!”
            “No, you aren’t! HOLY SHIT – you guys did WHAT in his office!?”
            “Sokka, stop reading!” I shrieked, trying to rip the damn book from his hands. I was puffing brashly, Sokka swinging his arms above him, despite me sitting on his chest, trying to catch his hands.
            “No! I do work on that damn desk sometimes. I’ve drunken TEA on top of there!” Oh, screw this, “I swear Sokka, I’ll choke you out if you don’t give me my diary!”
            “You wouldn’t dare.” He hissed under his breath; blue eyes narrowed – the glare of a warrior. I shot back the same look he gave me – I could be just as scary as him if I tried really-really hard. Sorry, Suki – find yourself a new man-
            “Should I even ask?”
            Sokka and I froze, heads snapping upwards, hearing the gruff voice echoing above us.
            Zuko stood at the end of the bed, his arms across his broad chest, as he watched us with a mixture of confusion and amusement. His face was rosy from running, a few beads of sweat running down his temple and neck. I could see the way his chest rose with every breath, still winded from his workout.
            My cheeks flushed at the sight of Zuko’s sweaty body, and at how silly Sokka and I looked. But Sokka seemed just as startled as me. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I snatched the notebook away from his hands, “HA~!”
            Sokka’s eyes widen, stunned at how fast I stole the book, sticking my tongue at him.
            It was like Zuko never entered the room.
            Sokka and I bickered back and forth like toddlers unable to share a damn toy. Our faces were pink, not taking the time to breathe between words, let alone sentences.
            “For fucks sakes, it’s way too early in the morning to deal with this,” Zuko grumbled under his breath, and I turned my gaze back to my handsome man.
            He strolled over to the closet, patting down his face with the towel dangling over his shoulders. I fought the urge to drool over the sight – let’s not check out Zuko with Sokka in the room. Just as fast as Zuko entered the closet, he walked out, grabbing a set of clothing– those are some extravagant clothing he picked.
            Every piece of clothing Zuko owned was stunning, made of the most delicate fabrics. But as he threw a new outfit onto the bed indolently, I saw the golden shimmers that illuminated under the morning sun and the beautifully sewed dragons.
            Sokka opened his mouth to argue, and I just slapped his head with my notebook, muffling his cries. “Zuko, why are you dressing up? Is there a meeting?” I asked, raising my voice so Zuko could hear me over Sokka’s squeals. He perked up, shooting me a look of disbelief.
            “Wow, won’t you look at that. Now my Imperial Consort acknowledges my existence.” He sarcastically spoke. I rolled my eyes at Zuko, bouncing off Sokka’s chest. Ignoring Sokka and his angry rant, I skipped towards Zuko, “You know I love you, Zuko~.”
            “Mhmm – it seems you love me the most during the night when you need a heater.”
            “…I’m not going to deny that.” I giggled, and right away, Zuko shot me a glare. A harmless glare, because I saw the grin that fought to emerge.
            “I advise you, and Sokka, change soon. I don’t think you want to be dressed in your nightclothes when she arrives.”
            Huh? She?
            “You’re talking about Katara? Isn’t she arriving tonight-” Sokka budded in, and I noticed he had the plate of leftover cookies in hand, chewing away. Zuko nodded his head, his amber eyes settling over me, “I got word they’re at Ember Island at the moment, taking a little break. They should arrive in the next hour or two.”
            My face flushed, clapping excitedly.
            “She’s almost here!” I gushed, turning on my heel to face Sokka. For the moment, the fact that he was reading my diary, and was about to kill Zuko was lost to the wind – both us animated at the thought of seeing Katara again.
            “Sokka, get out so I can change! I need to take a bath.”
            “I know you do, you stink.”
            “I swear Sokka-” I hissed under my breath, and just as quick as Sokka was to tease, he stepped forward, his playful grin shifting to a tender smile. His fingers brushed through the tangled strands of hair that fell over my face, combing them out of the way. My body relaxed and a lax smile of my own emerging at the gentle gesture.
            “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Princess.” He whispered under his breath, and I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Thanks for checking up on me, and the cookies…I missed you…even if you annoy me.”
            Sokka grinned, flicking my forehead, “I’m always here, Princess...and…I’m taking the cookies with me.” He turned on his heel, shouting his goodbyes to Zuko before I could fight for my right to indulge in those tempting sweets. The pace at which he bee-lined for the exit, the door shutting behind him in one fluid motion, was unmatchable – leaving Zuko and me alone.
            My shoulders dropped, a content sigh escaping me – I’m happy.
            “Love?”
            My eyes widen, turning to see Zuko with those enticing eyes. He titled his head to the side, nudging towards the bathroom. An innocent giggle escaped me, already knowing what my dear Zuko was asking.
            “Give me a minute to grab some clothes-”
            “Already picked a dress for you.” I couldn’t hide my surprised expression even if I tried. “You did? I didn’t see you grab anything-”
            “I will after our bath. Although naked sounds like a tempting option, I must say.” Zuko sheepishly spoke, laughing under his breath as he waltzed towards me. His arms wrapped around my waist, gazing down at me with a broad smile. My hands fell over his chest, feeling his pulse under my touch.
            “Sokka says I stink…clearly; he didn’t smell you.” I teased, and Zuko leaned in, playfully biting my nose. His teeth grazed my skin, and I giggled at his childish behaviour. It will repeatedly take me off guard how utterly spiritedly Zuko could be – a trait that didn’t seem to pop up often, even with the others.
            “Mmm, stinky and stinky.” He muttered under his breath, “We make a good pair.”
            “Soon, we’ll be clean and clean.” I bantered back, enjoying the dimpled smile that shined brightly on Zuko’s face.
            “What were you and Sokka fighting about?” Zuko asked, his lips pecking my forehead, still holding me close to his body – making no move to head to the bathroom. I groaned to myself, letting my head plop onto his chest with a thud, recalling what had happened.
            “That bum read my diary! It was so embarrassing!” I blew.
            “You know…” Zuko spoke, and I heard the dip in his voice.
            My head snapped upwards, and I wasn’t astounded to see that shit-eating smirk flicker upon those sinful lips. The way my heart pounded, expression naïve hearing and seeing the way Zuko licked his lips mischievously, leaning too close for comfort.
            “I must say – my favourite part is when you write about how much you adore my voice.” Zuko mused, and at that moment – my cheeks turned a red that not even Zuko’s flames could match.
            My mouth dropped, babbling nonsense as I slapped Zuko’s chest hard – as if I could slap the awkwardness out of me. But Zuko didn’t seem the slightest bit flustered; instead, he looked down at me with a glowing grin. I can’t believe this asshole-
            “Does NO ONE understand the concept of PRIVACY!?” I squealed, puffing as I grumbled under my breath. “I can’t believe you read my diary! You’re just as annoying as Sokka!”
            “Who said I read your diary, love?” I frowned, staring at Zuko with confusion, “You-you just said that you knew-” Zuko grinned mischievously, the tips of his fingers tickling my jaw, shutting me up.
            “Oh, my sweet love. I didn’t read your diary. Just a lucky guess.”
            “You were bluffing-”
            “Nice to know what you think of my voice, although-” Zuko smirked, planting a deceitfully sweet kiss on my nose, “I can’t say that I am surprised.” I stood there, rattled, cheeks a flaming red - Zuko always seemed to know.
            That prideful smirk of his didn’t vanish, his delicate fingers leaving my face, arm no longer hugging me close. His welcomed warmth left my body, smugly stepping back, taking in my flustered appearance to the fullest.
            “Shall we get into our bath, love?” he spoke calmly, it was maddening.
            “I’m going to drown you,” I complained under my breath, watching the way Zuko confidently strolled towards the bathroom. But being the oh-so-famous man he was, Zuko shrugged off the threat with ease.
            His long fingers untied his loose bun, looking over his shoulder with a playful grin, “I can think of ten other things I would rather do in that tub than drown.”
            “Zuko~!”
            “And that’s exactly what I indeed to hear from those pretty lips of yours, baby.”
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            “Everything is set for Katara’s arrival, Fire Lord Zuko.”
            “Including the extra guard?”
            “Yes, Fire Lord. They are at their post.”
            Zuko huffed under his breath, nodding at the servants' words, although I couldn’t help but notice how empty his tone sounded. My eyes shifted from the chaos before me, feeling the way Zuko was moving his arm, which I tightly hugged. The moment I tilted my head upwards, an amused smile painted my lips. What a manchild-
            The golden stings that decorated Zuko’s sleeves seemed to have unravelled.
            I watched as he puckered, failing miserably at tying the adornment with one hand. The fabric slipped from between his fingers, and it may have been the first time, I dare say, that Zuko was unelegant. For a man with such a soft touch and long delicate fingers – you would have thought he had tree stumps as digits at the way he wriggled.
            “Fire Lord Zuko – let me.” I hummed.
            I grasped his arm, tugging him closer to myself as I tied the flimsy strings together. No wonder he was struggling – it was silk. A small huff, and a tongue biting moment later – I quickly began tying.
            Our pace of walking slowed without me realizing, and I couldn’t help but smile pridefully at how adorable my little knot was. While cute was not synonymous with Zuko for the majority of the population – it was in my books. What was there not to label cute about Zuko?
            “Mmm, what would I do without my lovely Imperial Consort?” Zuko droned into my ear, a deep huskiness causing my cheeks to flush. I could hear the teasing tone with every word, but that didn’t change the touch of truth in his statement. The guards and servants around us giggled softly, overhearing the teasing banter, causing my cheeks to deepen in colour.
            I looked upwards, not expecting to see Zuko as close as he was. It reminded me of the events that happened just a few days ago, us laughing like children down the hallway, close and snuggled. That’s right, Izumi was the name we settled on…
            The way his eyes smiled at me, inspecting the way my touch left his sleeves, opting to embrace his arm close to my body. For a moment in time, I found myself speechless. Zuko looked handsome today, breathtaking. Was that unusual? Not at all – but Zuko made my skin tingle, butterflies fluttering, and breath gone.
            “You would be lost – that’s what you would be.” I chirped back, biting my lips with a tone to match his. The way Zuko’s eyes lit up, surprised that I decided to amuse him. His lips began to move, ready to spit out some witty retort, but the sound of a servant clearing his throat beat him to it.
            “Fire Lord Zuko, you have a lunch date planned today with your mother, in the gardens. I assume you wish to cancel?”
            A lunch date? How sweet! It’s been a while since Zuko and Ursa have spent some time together. But rather than lighting up the way Zuko usually does at the mere mention of Ursa, he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. I pouted, observing his evident annoyance, not seeming as content to hear of such a plan like me.
            “She’s going to kill me for canceling again- Yes, please cancel-” Zuko hissed under his breath. He can’t be serious-
            “Zuko.” I huffed, tugging on his arm without thinking. In a flash, everyone turned their attention to me – and I mentally slapped myself for doing such an act in public. But I pushed aside the regret, focusing on the matter at hand.
            “You aren’t really going to cancel your afternoon plans with Ursa, are you?” I whisper shouted, looking at Zuko with wide eyes. His lips puckered at my words, shooting me a look that screamed, ‘what else am I suppose to do?’
            I swear- this man really is lost without me at times.
            “We arrived here almost a week ago, and you’ve haven’t seen your family once. They’re worried.” I reasoned, and Zuko sighed, gazing around us in frustration. The guards got the hint. They awkwardly turned their looks away, walking briskly in front of us, giving us plenty of space to talk without anyone overhearing.
            “I know that Yue, but when Katara lands, we need to discuss-” Zuko hissed under his breath, lips pressed as he tried to hush his tone. “Zuko.” I pleaded, shaking my head, tightening my hold.
            The large doors that lead outside, where we landed with Appa, was coming into view. I spotted a dash of green running through the doors, most likely Suki. That means everyone is already there, waiting for Katara’s arrival.
            “I’ve been here for how long, and I only got to share one moment with you in those gardens. One walk – don’t do the same thing with your mom. She misses you.” I begged, and right away, Zuko’s stern look shifted to that of genuine regret. His cheeks flushed, stripping his gaze away from mine, his lips twisted to a frown.
            “You know how to make a man feel guilty,” Zuko grumbled under his breath as he strode forward, but I tugged on his arm harshly. He’s trying to run away from his feelings. We abruptly stopped dead in our tracks, turning on his heel to look down at me with narrowed eyes. Zuko wasn’t upset with me – he just sucks at expressing himself.
            Zuko was more of a family man than he let on. He would do anything for them, but it was like he was afraid to admit how much he cared. How much he thought about them and enjoyed their presence. I wasn’t a fool; I caught the sweet stares he sent to his mom or Uncle Iroh, enjoying their company, even if it was just for a few seconds.   
            “What I’m trying to say is this-” I muttered softly, upset that I caused that frown to rise. “We’ve survived this long without someone attacking us. I think the gang would understand and can wait a few more hours before our meeting. Katara is probably exhausted as well; she could use some rest…” I hummed.
            Out of the corner of my eyes, I could spot the servants studying us, curious as to why we halted. I let my hands rest over Zuko’s forearms, squeezing as I smiled up at him, “You’re a man of work, Zuko. And I love that, but don’t forget that you have a family too...”
            “I knew it was a bad idea to let Uncle Iroh and mom keep you company…they taught you their ways of getting to my mind.” Zuko mumbled under his breath, but I spotted that gentle smile of his starting to shine through – my sun.
            “When are you going to learn that I’m always the one in control?” I teased, and in a flash, Zuko gripped my hands tightly. My heart pounded loudly, blood pumping as I watched as Zuko brought my hands to his lips, placing sweet pecks all over my palms.
            “Mmm, I don’t deny such a truth, I pride myself in it.” he snickered, before stealing one last caress. “Let’s go, baby. Based on the ruckus outside, and dirt flying everywhere, it seems like Katara has arrived.”
            “I’m so excited, Zuko. I missed her-”
            “Oh, I’m very much aware of how excited you are. All night you were squirming around in your sleep. It felt like I was cuddling a worm.” Zuko laughed, and I blushed. This tease- I pulled my grip away, playfully punching his chest, not at all caring that we were not in the private confines of our bedroom.
            “Watch yourself, love – you wouldn’t want to get arrested now.” Zuko grinned, and I scoffed.
            “We both know that the guards love me more than you. So if you, Sir, don’t want to get put into cuffs, I advise you be careful.” I smugly retorted, and it was then and there I knew I was treading in dangerous waters.
            The large gap between us felt far too small, watching the way Zuko’s lips twisted to a naughty smirk that had my stomach in knots.
            He leaned forward, his lips grazing my jaw, his hot breath tickling the skin at the base of my neck. That alone had my breath hitching, and the incontrollable response had Zuko clicking his tongue in amusement. His alluring scent had my head spinning, knees on the verge of buckling at his mere presence. But it was Zuko’s damn voice that had me teetering on edge. Fuck him-
            “Mhmm, we both know that you would look delicious in a pair of cuffs, baby. And while I would never think of using such means, ‘cause you’re such a good girl, I’m not against the idea.”
            “Zuko-” I gulped, my hands bunching the fabric of my dress in my hands. I could feel my palms getting sweaty, realizing I’ve been holding my breath the whole time. And at the mere sound of my voice, Zuko let out a low groan in my ear, tilting his head back as he licked his lips. The way his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, rolling back – was it because of me?
            “There you go again, love. Saying my name in that needy tone of yours – it drives me mad.” He purred, and my eyes widened. Does no one see this, hear this? I anxiously shifted my gaze around us, scared that someone would see what was happening. I can’t continue breaking royal rules. I need just one day. One day where I go without breaking a damn rule.
            But my resolved cracked.
            The guards and servants were far more interested in watching the arrival of Appa through the windows, talking amongst themselves than what was going on between us. They have no clue; they’re completely oblivious-
            “Come on, baby, let me hear the sweet voice of yours again.” Zuko toyed, catching my attention. His lips brushed against my jaw once again, a hand falling on the dip of my back. I couldn’t help it – his lips are so close to mine, and no one is watching.
            One kiss. One kiss is all I want-
            “THANK THE FUCKING GODS I AIN’T THE ONLY ONE LATE.”
            If Zuko wasn’t holding on my waist the way he was now, I would’ve fallen on my face.
            We pushed off each other, the looks of two people who got caught painted on our faces. But just like that, Zuko collected himself. His touch left me, crossing his arms with a scowl on his face as he watched Sokka dash towards us in a mad sprint.
            Why is Sokka-
            Sokka’s thick brown hair reflected off the sunlight, droplets of water flying as he ran like a sprinkler. His hands were desperately working on the white buttons that decorated his navy blue top, flaunting his exposed torso to us. Are his shoes on the opposite feet?
            “Sokka? Why are you-” I whispered, but Zuko blew loudly, finishing off my train of thought. “A bloody mess? Come on, man, you’re leaving a fucking trail of water, and you aren’t even a Waterbender.” I stifled in a laugh because Zuko was totally right. There was a damn pond now in the kingdom, courtesy of Sokka.
            But Sokka grinned largely, not at all bothered by Zuko’s expression of disappointment. Aang and Sokka, I think the only two people who are immune to Zuko’s glares. Even I would cower away from such a stare.
            “I had to shower, and Suki had to shower too, and one thing led to another-”
            My cheeks flushed, and before I knew it, my hands fell over my ears, shutting my eyes and trying to push the mental image away. “Too much details Sokka!” I shouted, twisting on my heels, and Sokka let out a petty laugh.
            “HA. Oh yeah, cause that diary didn’t have too much information, Princess.” I frowned, hands falling on my hips as Sokka came to a halt beside us, closing the last button of his top. Oh, I swear, I’m going to kill Sokka-
            “You didn’t have to read my diary, dummy!” I shouted, and I could hear Zuko sigh beside us.“Why is my best friend, a fucking idiot?” Zuko mumbled, his arm snaking around my waist.
            “AWW MAN, I’m you’re best friend?” Sokka spoke, beaming like a child towards Zuko, and I found my jaw-dropping. Out of everything Zuko said, all he got was ‘friend’?
            “You’re an idiot,” Zuko spoke, a touch of genuine fear in his voice. I couldn’t help but snort, shaking my head as I brushed my hair behind my ears, looking forward. But it still doesn’t explain why Sokka is late.
            “We just saw Suki a few moments ago, Sokka,” I spoke, observing him. He had an elastic between his teeth, his hands frantically brushing his hair to a messy bun.
            “Yeah, well, as I said, we had to shower. I was just getting in, and she was just finishing.” Sokka mumbled between clenched teeth. With a free hand, he grabbed the hair tie, wrapping his hair in a somewhat presentable hair-do. “I still think I have shampoo in my hair…” Sokka grumbled under his breath.
            Who needs a damn child when you can have Sokka? I rolled my eyes, reaching forward as I watched the way Sokka struggled to put on the coat that he had swung over his shoulder. I’m surprised it didn’t fall off during his mad sprint towards us. I reached forward, fingers grazing the rough material, only for an animated shout to catch our attention.
            “Come on, slow-pokes! She’s here!”
            My eyes widen, looking in front of us. Suki’s head was popping through the grand doors. She was free of her Kyoshi warrior outfit, opting for a natural look. Her eyes matched the sweet smile of hers, her green dress flowing in the light breeze outside. Her brown hair bobbed back and forth as she eagerly bounced in her spot in excitement.
            “Some siblings you are – both of you guys are late.” She laughed before shutting the door behind her. Katara is here! In a flash, I gazed up to Zuko with doe eyes, ready to babble in anticipation, but I found myself stopping. The smile on Zuko’s face – it didn’t reach his eyes.
            I’m an idiot.
            “Come on; Katara’s going to give us a damn lecture if she doesn’t see us in the next ten seconds.” Sokka huffed, striding ahead of us. Zuko merely nodded, the arm wrapped around my waist thrusting me forward to match Sokka’s pace.
            Zuko didn’t utter a word; he just kept his gaze forward as we walked towards the doors. His lips were pressed tight despite the smile on his face. It was those fake smiles of his, I’ve seen them before whenever he was tired, or annoyed but had to show face in the name of politics.
            Zuko and Katara.
            I never did ask, but did they ever talk about what happened in the Southern Water Tribe? Things just happened so fast, and as reasonable as Zuko was, he was as stubborn as Katara could be petty.
            Did they make-up, did Katara apologize to Zuko? Zuko flat out admitted he wanted Katara to help heal me, but was it because he trusted her, or because he was desperate to see me better?
            The servants in front of us quickly opened the door for us, and for a split moment, I saw the slight scowl on Zuko’s face.
            Zuko…
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            Awkward was a word I would have never used to describe Katara’s and my relationship.
            We were many things – but above all, we were sisters despite not sharing the same blood. It was funny; she was born in November, me in July, the same year, but she was more of a big sister to me than I was to her. She just had this motherly aura about her, even making Zuko seem like a child to us all.
            A silence fell over us as we stood side by side.
            My fingers twirled around each other as we walked along the hallway, me admiring the view of the gardens before us. It was a beautiful day, the sunlight shining, the flowers seemingly reaching their peak in beauty. I could only imagine the sweet scents the flowers were producing should we have been walking outside instead.
            Awkward.
            The others were busy working on their tasks, Aang with his new Nation, Sokka, Toph, and Suki regarding a battle plan. And Zuko- I smiled. I could see him and Ursa, sitting under the large cherry blossom tree that towered above all. The pink blossoms created a blanket-like cover for Zuko and Ursa to sit on, something straight out of a fairytale.
            Even from here, I could see the contentment on Ursa’s face as Zuko poured her some tea. But the same emotion was evident on his, and while I couldn’t prove it, I was certain that those heart-throbbing dimples of his were most likely present on his face.
            Katara carefully brushed a brown braid behind her ear, her fingers playing with the flimsy envelope in her arms. I figured she would’ve used the time Zuko is spending with his mother to rest, but instead, she said she wanted to spend some time with me. I was beyond delighted to hear her say that, but now that she was here-
            Awkward.
            Why were things so awkward between us right now?
            The sound of Zuko’s laughter caught my attention, a tinge of pink dusting my cheeks. His smile was wide as he shook his head in amusement, his mother nodding eagerly as she spoke. The way Zuko studied his mom, listening to her every word like it was gold. He loved his mother to the moon and back; there wasn’t a doubt about it.
            “You and Zuko…you two seem happy.” Katara hummed softly, the first one to speak in the awkward silence that somehow managed to fall between us. I froze, unable to move my feet as I sharply turned to stare at Katara.
            Her blue eyes were round and filled with admiration, a genuine smile on her face. “Suki was right; you do stare at him a lot.” My mouth dropped, cheeks flaring up as I found myself speechless. Katara’s smile soon turned to an almighty grin, laughing at the reaction she got out of me, “Has Sokka declared himself as the ‘almighty cockblock’ yet?”
            I snorted, “The first week.”
            “He’s so overprotective.”
            “Tell me about it, that dummy read my diary today!”
            “He did not.” Katara huffed, her cheeks matching my red ones once I told her the news. But as the words left her mouth, I noticed how close we had gotten. Both of our bodies were leaned towards each other, eagerly talking as if the awkward silence that was consuming us never happened.
            The awkwardness…
            “Yue…?”
            “Katara…”
            “I missed you.”
            At her final words, I found my arms quickly flying over her shoulders, a happy smile painting my face. “I missed you, too, Katara,” I whispered, not at all caring that I was wrinkling the important paper pressed against her chest. Katara let out a giggle as she snuggled her head into my neck, cuddling me back to the best of her abilities without dropping the letter.
            The awkwardness was not because of some ill feelings, but because we didn’t know where to start.
            I’ve never been away from Katara and Sokka before; it was usually them leaving me for work. But now…it was different. This wasn’t a matter or us leaving for a few weeks or months and coming back. I lived here now, forever, this was my new home.
            My new life with Zuko.
            “It’s been so long; I don’t even know where to start.” I gushed as we pulled away. Having her in my arms briefly, I noticed that not much had changed between us despite the time. The only reason difference is that while she wore blue, I wore red.
            But she’s still my exasperating sister.
            “Well, you can start with, you know.” Katara laughed, wiggling her eyebrows towards the window. I blushed, looking over my shoulder, and at that moment, Zuko’s eyes locked with mine.
            It didn’t matter that we were a distance away from each other. The fire that ignited in me the moment Zuko’s gaze settled over mine was undeniable. He shot me a devilish smile as he tilted his head cockily. The way his ember eyes studied me, it was like he was looking into my soul – leaving me gasping and knees shaky. And just like that, he turned back to his mom, resuming his conversation.
            Oh, this man, the definition of sin itself.
            “Where do I even start?” I breathed, hands falling over my chest to get my heartbeat under wraps. But despite the flustered state, Zuko seemed always to leave me in; I couldn’t pull my eyes away. Gosh, Yue. You’re literally creeping him through the damn window.
            Have you really stooped that low? Yes, yes, I have, and I have no regrets.
            The confidence that seemed to ooze from him without a single effort, how did Ursa manage to give birth to such a fine specimen like him? Those pouty lips, long fingers, his hot breath along my neck-
            “Yue, do you love Zuko?” Katara blurted, cutting my thoughts in half.
            I jumped in my spot, my whole body heating up in embarrassment. Not only did Katara just catch me gawking at Zuko within minutes of her arriving here, but she also didn’t know. Everything that has happened between us; the kisses, sweet confessions, she didn’t know a single thing.
            “The way you’re staring at Zuko, the way he looks at you…it’s just like Aang and me; it’s …love.”
            “I-”
            “Do you-do you love him, Yue?” Katara sternly spoke, stepping forward. Her hands fell over my shoulders, her fingers digging into my dress with a serious expression. I nervously bit my lip, trying to understand her sudden outburst, but the expression she wore was serious. I swallowed hard, nodding my head.
            “I love him, Katara. More than anything in the world.”
             “I can’t believe it…” She whispered under her breath.
            I pouted, tilting my head to try to comprehend her words. Was she…was she mad? But Katara just snickered, her shoulders slumping in ease as she shook her head. “Zuko didn’t need someone to break down his walls; he needed someone to help him rebuild.” She muttered to herself. What is she talking about-
            “I’m so happy, Yue; I’m so happy you found each other.” She exclaimed. “Dad has been worried sick about you; I can’t wait till I tell him how happy you are.”
            Hakoda-
            “How is dad, Katara?” I questioned, and Katara shot me a sad smile. It was something that ate away at me. I still remember the look on his face when I told him I was leaving with Zuko. He tried to play it off cool, saying how he was happy that I was leaving the nest, spreading my wings again. But I could still remember the small sniffle that I heard the moment I shut the door behind me to leave.
            “He’s good, but sad…he misses you. Keeps on saying how his daughters are being swept off their feet.” Katara spoke as I let my gaze wander back to the window. Ursa was standing tall, dusting off her dress with a happy smile that reached her eyes. But Zuko was nowhere in sight.
            “But, he has you at home, at least,” I replied.
            “About that…” I frowned at her tone, pulling my gaze away from the gardens and back to Katara. She let out a heavy sigh, shuffling back and forth between her feet. “Dad has been acting weird lately,”
            Dad was always weird; that was a fact, but for Katara to say it spoke plenty. He was a serious man, for the most part, but Sokka got his playfulness from someone. And it didn’t take long to learn from who it was.
            “Dad has been pushing at the thought of Aang and me finding a home for ourselves.”
            “He’s thinking about your future.” I tried to reason, but Katara shook her head. “That’s what I thought, but since you left, he’s been insistent. Keeps saying that I’m an adult now, that I have to think of the bigger picture. And…”
            “And?” I pushed, and I spotted the way Katara’s cheeks flushed.
            Katara was blushing.
            She hugged her body, eyes darting side to side before she finally found her voice. Katara and Aang have been together for years – it took a lot to make Katara blush. This is going to be good.
            “A few months ago, I saw Aang talking to Dad in his office. But whenever I bring it up, Aang says he wasn’t there – when I saw him. I even confronted Dad about it, but he denies everything.” I rose a brow, trying to piece together what Katara was telling me.
            Why Would Dad lie about that, better yet – Aang doesn’t lie. Aang is the definition of purity, never uttering a lie or harming a soul. For Aang to lie to Katara…
            “I think…I think Aang may propose to me, Yue.”
            “Oh my gosh, Katara-”
            “And I wanna say yes!” She blurted, her hands falling over her mouth at her honest confession. I couldn’t stop the squeals, jumping in my spot at the thought of Katara and Aang tying the knot. The first marriage in the gang!
            “Katara, I’m so HAPPY!” I chirped, clapping like a fool at the thought, and that just seemed to worsen Katara’s blush. “I love him, Yue. We won’t have kids for a few years, we agreed on that, we’re both too busy with our jobs. But we’ve always wanted to be married. But maybe I’m overthinking things?”
            “Overthinking? KATARA. He went to Dad, and now Dad is trying to find a house for you~! He’s going to propose!”
            “Have you heard anything funny from Sokka, or maybe Zuko? Maybe Zuko would know what Aang is thinking. Aang always says how Zuko is his best friend; he would know something, right?” Katara insisted, and I thought.
            She had a point.
            Just like how I spilled my guts to Suki or Kima, the guys would do the same with each other. But I never heard anything from Zuko…but he’s good at keeping secrets, Yue. I huffed, that’s right. Which means…if I want to find something I have to do a little bit of snooping.
            I grinned, “Leave it to me. Sokka doesn’t call me a curious cat for nothing!” Katara frowned, shaking her finger at me, “Don’t go doing anything stupid, Yue. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Zuko because of me.”
            I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms, “Zuko wouldn’t dare, I have him wrapped around my finger.”
            “I can’t believe it, Yue. You really tamed the untamable.” Katara spoke in amazement, shaking her head as she watched over me. I smiled proudly, shifting my attention back outside. Ursa was calmly sitting under the tree again, a book in her lap as her eyes scanned back and forth. Smart woman, enjoying the warmth to the fullest.
            But Zuko still wasn’t there. Where did he go? He was just there a moment ago-
            “Looking for someone, love?”
            I jumped, a pair of arms snaking their way around my body. The heat emitted from his touch had me purring, snuggling against the hard torso pressed against my back. Zuko nuzzled his face into my neck, his hands firmly planting themselves on my waist as he hummed pleasantly in my ear. “Mm, how is my baby?” he droned, his lips nibbling my skin before stopping abruptly.
            His body tensed, and I saw the way Katara’s eyes widen in surprise. Zuko pulled his face away from me, standing tall, fingers digging into my skin.
            “Katara.” He spoke bluntly, but I could feel the coldness in his tone. I’m right. He was upset with her still, and Katara seemed to notice it too. Katara’s lips pressed tight, taking a deep breath as she nodded her head, “Zuko.”
            Awkward – this was what real awkwardness feels like.
            The tension in the room was thick, Katara’s blue eyes locked with Zuko’s golden ones. “How was your lunch with Ursa, Zuko?” I blurted, trying to ease the tension, it was unbearable.
            “Great.” He hissed, and I stiffened. This is bad, really bad.
            Do something, Yue.
            Do something-
            “I forgot to give these papers to you earlier, Zuko. These are from the Earth Nation.” Katara spoke, and Zuko’s eyes narrowed.
            “How did you receive it?” He asked, and Katara cleared her throat before answering. “Ember Island. The Earth King sent this there, thinking you were still residing in your vacation home. But I was told it was urgent and they sent it with me. Faster with Appa. It’s to be opened as soon as possible.”
            Zuko merely nodded, not saying anything else. Zuko not speaking was scarier than him yelling. Katara outstretched her arm, Zuko meeting halfway as he touched the envelope. The flimsy document looked small in Zuko’s hands, but as his fingers curled, ready to take it, Katara's voice stopped him.
            “Actually, I thought Yue could take it to your study.”
            “Why? I can do it myself; we’re on our way there now-”
            “I-I want to talk, just us, for a minute, Zuko,” Katara exclaimed, and I noticed the way her voice wavered. Her eyes met mine, almost pleading with me to go along, and I nodded. Before Zuko would say anything else, I reached forward, taking the paper from their grasps. I looked upwards, shooting Zuko a sweet smile, “I’ll meet you at the study with the gang. Be quick!”
            I could hear Zuko click his tongue, and like water, I slipped from his grasp.
            Temptation ate away at me, swiftly gazing over my shoulder at the two, and they were exactly where I left them seconds ago. They stood across each other, a large frown on Zuko’s face as Katara took a deep breath. And as I turned the corner, I found myself stopping for a moment.
            “What do you want, Katara? We have stuff we need to discuss-” Zuko grumbled under his breath, undoubtedly pinching the bridge of his nose.
            I knew it was wrong.
            I knew I shouldn’t listen, eavesdrop. But it was like no matter how hard I tried; I couldn’t move. I wanted to know what Katara wanted to talk so desperately to Zuko about. I wanted to know what Katara wanted with Zuko. Was she going to ask Zuko about the marriage thing? But the words that flew from Katara’s mouth had me holding my breath.
            “I want to say I’m sorry.”  
            Silence.
            I bolted as fast as I could, a goofy smile on my face.
            Katara had guts.
            And while Katara was undoubtedly hard-headed like Zuko, the friendship between Zuko and her was far more important than her ego. Thank you Katara, Zuko really needed to hear that.     
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            “What’s taking them so loooonnngggggg~.” Toph complained under her breath, lounging on the rug that covered the floor of Zuko’s office. Her hands were comfortably tucked behind her head; legs crossed over each other as she impatiently blew. Should she have been a Firebender, I was certain there would have been flickers of fire leaving her lips, much like Zuko.
            I giggled, shrugging my shoulders as I happily sat in Zuko’s grand chair. It was super comfy, might I add. The padding was making it feel like I was sitting on a cloud. No wonder Zuko didn’t mind doing paperwork, I would to if it meant sitting on a comfy chair like this.
            My curious eyes wandered about, scanning the array of documents that decorated his study. There were so many projects happening under Zuko’s care, notes filled with his scribbles containing details. But as interesting as everything was, I was more fascinated by the green document that I brought here.
            While it was light, the envelope was thick; the Earth Nation seal prettily stamped in the center with ivory coloured wax. A letter from the Earth King…I wonder what it is about? As if the emerald green hypnotized me, I found my mind wandering.
            I wonder how Kayto was?
             No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wipe the image of the happy smile on his face as he walked away from me. The cherry blossoms falling around him in the sweet breeze, how clear his eyes seemed that day. Even his steps seemed lighter than air, practically hovering along the ground.
            It was like he was a changed man…but despite the delighted smile on his face, my heart swelled with sorrow. There was something about that moment that had my eyes teary, something that made my stomach rise to my throat.
            “I gotta say, Princess. You look good, sitting there. You look like a real Queen.” Sokka mused. I blushed at his words, pushing myself back in the chair. My gaze snapped forward, watching the way Sokka lounged in a chair that was placed in front of the desk we were currently huddled around.
            “You really do, for someone as cute as you – you can look pretty scary when you focus.” Suki giggled in Sokka’s lap. I whined under my breath, shyly combing my hair in front of my chest, twirling the strands around. Me ruling a whole Nation? I could feel my whole body shaking.
            The thought alone was beyond terrifying. How does Zuko do it? Thousands and thousands of people looking up to you for guidance. You’re the face of the Nation. The person people praise or curse. Overnight you can be the publics' favourite person, their beacon of hope, or their worst enemy.
            “Sorry we’re late.”
            Zuko busted through the door hastily, and I couldn’t help but smile. The tension in his shoulders was gone, his feet light as he beelined towards his study. He looked like a man on a mission – ready to get down to business. Katara coolly walked towards Aang, but even I could tell she seemed more at peace, her breathing calm.
            They’re okay; they talked it out.
            “FINALLY. Can we get this done and over with already?” Toph groused, sitting upright in a flash as she crossed her arms. Zuko rolled his eyes at Toph, merely walking where I sat. He placed a small peck on my forehead, earning a bashful smile from myself, before spotting the green document on his desk.
            “Where do we even start?” I pondered under my breath as I watched Zuko. He leaned against his study, a hand combing through my locks as if to soothe himself, as he swore under his breath. The letter from the Earth King was dense – he’s going to have a fun read.
            “Maybe with Kayto and the Earth King?” Suki proposed, but Toph gave her two cents. “Further. The waterfall. That’s where Yue first saw Azula and Yakone.”
            “Azula? Yakone?” Katara gasped, Aang nodding his head as he ran his hands up and down her, comforting. “You’re all wrong,” I announced before realizing what I had said. Right away, Zuko’s attention shifted to me, eyes narrowed as the grip he had on the paper tightened.
            “What do you mean that we’re wrong? You said you saw Azula at the waterfall.” Zuko spoke, a certain edge in his voice. I puffed, “You’re right, but that’s not the first time I saw her.”
            “You lied? Why would you lie about that-”
            I frowned at Zuko, realizing that he thought I was hiding information. “Yeah, Princess. Why would not tell Zuko you saw Azula?” Sokka butted, leaning forward, nearly pushing Suki off him. Her hands fell against the study, catching herself, shooting Sokka a glare.
            “Because I didn’t know it was her!” I puffed, throwing my arms up in the air frustratingly. As much as I was part of the gang now, they seemed to forget that I wasn’t friends with them as long as they have been. “I didn’t know it was her! You don’t think if I knew, I would’ve said something? She disguised herself as a maid. I didn’t know better.”
            “Did you not tell Yue about Azula, Zuko?” Aang asked gently, and I saw the flustered look on Zuko’s face. His gaze shifted back to the fancy writing of Earth King, grumbling under his breath. “N-no.”
            “It’s not Zuko’s fault; he doesn’t have to tell me about that.” I started, but Zuko slammed the paper on the desk. I was startled, not at all expecting the outburst of anger. His forehead was scrunched together, a scowl on his face as he stared the crimpled paper.
            “It is my fault; I should’ve been smarter; I let my guard down. I figured Azula was no longer an issue – stupid wishful thinking.” Zuko hissed under his breath.
            “Zuko…” I hummed softly. My hand fell over his forearm, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I should’ve told you about the maid. I was stupid…I didn’t want to worry you.”
            “But I already worry.” He ranted.
            “Oh, for fucks sakes, talk about your damn feelings another time!” Toph swore loudly, standing upright as she stomped her feet on the ground. She swiftly shifted her posture, her head in the direction of Katara.
            “Look here, Sugar Queen, this is what is going to happen. I’m going to tell the damn details, and everyone can keep their mouths shut till the end. Got it?”
            I found myself zipping my mouth shut, Sokka nodding his head frantically, hearing Toph’s stern voice. Aang straightened up his posture, Zuko shooting Toph an amused look, seeing her take charge. “Please go on, Toph. Saves my breath.” Zuko muttered, before raising the documents back to view.
            And boy, did Toph tell the story, alright.
            It was an experience I didn’t know I needed to experience until today. I figured Toph would gloss over everything, cutting corners due to her unsurprisingly impatient nature, but I was pleasantly surprised.
            Despite her blunt and quick to the point, attitude, she hit the nail in every aspect. She didn’t leave behind a single detail, Katara’s eyes growing wider and wider by the second. In fact, even though most of us were there to experience the whole ordeal, we found ourselves silent. Who knew Toph could be a fantastic public speaker when she wanted to be? She would make an amazing investigator.
            Zuko’s hand went back to petting my hair, reading the documents sent from the Earth King, as Toph ranted. But his attention wavered when Katara spoke up.
            “Azula burnt Aang?” Katara repeated, her hand softly caressing Aang’s arms. Aang shot her a caring smile, catching her hand with his, “Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart. I’m all healed.” I could tell Aang was trying his best to ease any concern of Katara, but I couldn’t blame her.
            She was thrown into a pit of lions. Everything that happened, we’ve gotten to process one way or another over time, but Katara was learning about everything now. It was a shock, but Katara just huffed furiously at Aang, shaking her head in annoyance.
            “And you- are you crazy?” She shouted; a slender finger pointed towards me. My jaw dropped, face going white as I saw the way her eyes narrowed heatedly. It reminded me of the times she would lecture Sokka and me whenever we got into trouble. “You fought Azula like in that state, you fought Yakone. You could’ve died Yue; your chi is all messed up. This is dangerous!” Katara lectured.
            “I had to save them-”
            “Aang could have gone in the Avatar state.” Katara retorted.
            “He was tired.” I fought back, pushing myself off the chair. I knew Katara had a point. It was stupid of me, and this ‘flu’ I had, which was evidently something else, was worrying. It was dangerous for me to bend, but the thought of any of them getting hurt was scarier. “I had to save them. Yakone was going to kill them.”
            “And this is why Bloodbenders are disgusting.” Katara spat, running a hand angrily through her locks. The outright hatred in her voice had my breathing hitching, not at all expecting those words to leave her mouth. But the way she spoke, it came naturally, like the fact that Bloodbenders were some vial creatures was a truth, not an opinion. Disgusting-
            “Those are some strong words, Katara,” Aang said speedily, and Katara pursed her lips.
            “You know how dangerous Bloodbending is. You can control someone without their consent. Kill them from the inside out.”
            “That’s not true, Katara.” I blurted without much thought. Aang’s eyes widen at my comment, shooting me a warning glance, but Sokka spoke up before Katara could. “No offence, Princess, but as much as you are a lover, you have to admit. Bloodbending, that’s some next-level human shit right there.”
            “If you can even call them human,” Katara grumbled under her breath. Sokka frowned at her comment, but regardless, he nodded his head in agreeance to her words.
            “Honestly, they’re more like monsters to me. Manipulating blood? That’s disgusting and dark.” Suki added, shaking her head as she looked at Sokka. Suki was a warrior, but even I noticed the way her voice wavered at the thought of Bloodbending.
            “Well, once we get rid of Yakone, no more Bloodbenders to worry about. Problem solved.” Toph grumbled, falling back onto the floor with a thud. She crossed her legs, resting her chin on her elbow as she listened to everyone trash talk.
            “We shouldn’t speak ill about Bloodbending; we don’t know much about it…maybe it can be used for some good?” I reasoned, trying to add some positivity to the conversation, but Katara snuffed. “What good could Bloodbending possibility have?”
            “M-maybe you can heal? Right, Yue? Maybe you can do some more powerful healing, better than regular Waterbending?” Aang proposed eagerly. His eyes were light, scanning the room desperately, wishing for someone to work with him. But Sokka shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know Aang. When you have that much power…it's tempting to do more evil than good, in my opinion.”
            “But Aang is strong; he isn’t evil!” I retorted, hands falling on the study before me harder than I intended. Everyone jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but the beating of my heart in my chest was louder. “That’s like- that’s like saying that everyone with power is evil. That’s not true; there are plenty of good people with power.” I panicked, desperately trying to defuse the situation.
            “Why do you care so much, Princess? Why are you trying to defend Bloodbenders? It’s like you feel bad for Yakone or something.” Toph huffed.
            “That’s not what I’m trying to say.” I whimpered under my breath. What was I trying to say? It did sound like I was trying to defend Yakone. But that wasn’t it – hearing the way they disregarded a whole sub-bending skill because of a bad-bunch? What about all the good that came from Bloodbending during-
            “The next thing you know, Princess over here is going to go give a hug to Yakone, maybe offer him some cookies.” Toph mocked under her breath. My lips puckered, eyes wide hearing the taunting tone in Toph’s voice.
            “Watch it.”
            For the first time, I heard Zuko speak. His voice was low, a deadly tone laced with his simple warning as his hand fell over my shoulder. I could feel the heat radiating from his palms. Zuko didn’t say a damn word during the whole conversation. Did he think Bloodbenders were monsters too? Despicable and less than human?
            “It was a joke, Zuko. Relax.” Toph huffed, her bangs flying upwards for a moment before falling back over her eyes. “This isn’t a time for jokes. We have two wanted criminals, and damn spy inside the kingdom.” Zuko lectured, and Katara stepped forward.
            “We’re just talking about Bloodbenders-”
            “But why? Whether or not Bloodbenders are evil is beside the fucking point. We need to focus on the important things. Healing Yue, so her chi doesn’t kill her, and capturing Yakone to ensure the prosperity of the United Nations.”
            “Zuko is right; we’re falling off track here,” Aang spoke, his voice sounding calmer. Zuko ran his hands through his bun, causing hairs to fall and frame his face. “We can pick up the rest tomorrow; we’re getting nowhere for today,” Zuko muttered under his breath.
            Suki let out a sigh, standing off Sokka and outstretching a hand. He grabbed it, letting her pull his body upwards before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “Fine. Let’s call it a day then. We can pick everything back up tomorrow in the morning.”
            “Fine with me…” Toph grumbled before abruptly standing up. She kicked the air underneath her before storming out of the room without another word. Aang nodded meekly, bowing quickly towards Zuko and I. I saw the way he smiled at me sympathetically before linking arms with Katara. Pity.
            The sound of their soft voices and feet pattering against the room was the last sound heard before the door shut behind them, leaving Zuko and me alone. The room suddenly felt far too large and lonely, missing the company of everyone, despite them being the cause of anxiousness.
            I let out a shaky breath, hands rubbing my face roughly. Why did I have to say anything? I should have just agreed; I should have kept my mouth shut. They’re right-
            Bloodbenders are monsters.
            Disgusting creatures – less than humans.
            I’m a mon-
            “Love?” Zuko hummed softly, squeezing my shoulder and catching my attention. I jumped, hands falling onto my lap as I looked up at Zuko. I felt so jumpy today, uneasy, even around Zuko. But why? It was like darkness was looming over my head.
            “S-sorry. I’ll go now so you can work. See you for dinner-”
            “Wait.” Zuko breathed, and I noticed how soft his amber eyes appeared. The furious leader that called off the meeting was gone; only Zuko was here, no Fire Lord. “Let’s get out of here, love,” Zuko spoke tenderly, brushing my hair behind my ears as his fingers carefully traced my jaw. His touch had my body easing, breathing relaxing as I weakened under his touch.
            “But your work-”
            “Mother told me some interesting advice today during lunch.”
            I bite my lips. That was random, even for my standards. But the look on Zuko’s face, he was serious. I opened my mouth before shutting it, unsure how to respond to his unexpected statement. “What…did she say” I clumsily questioned.
            The way Zuko leaned into me, I could see my reflection in his eyes. He had such long eyelashes; I never did notice. I figured that the burn would’ve prevented much growth, much like his eyebrow, but that didn’t seem to be the case. His eyes were like endless pools of gold, flickers of sparks scattered randomly. The longer we stared into each other eyes, the larger his pupils dilated.
            His thumb traced my bottom lip, Zuko biting his lips, “She told me to be selfish more often.”
            I rose a brow at his words. “Selfish?”
            “Mhmm…and I think…today I’m going to listen.”
            “Which means…?” I pushed, and Zuko chuckled. “So impatient, curious.”
            A flush coated my cheeks, but I couldn’t pull away from his grasp. Hypothesized by the intense stare, the way he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth as he cheekily studied me up and down. “I’m spoiling you rotten today. Care to go on a date with me? Ice cream for dinner?”
            “Really? You aren’t playing around with me, are you?” I wisely asked, not trusting Zuko completely. He was not only a tease but a high-key sadist. Zuko sniggered, pinching my nose before planting a sweet kiss on my lips, “Of course, beautiful.”
            Beautiful.
            Zuko felt the way my body tensed at the word, and he pulled away. A painful frown suddenly emerged on his face, eyes watching over me, “What’s wrong, love?”
            “Can a monster be beautiful?”
            Zuko’s snorted, rolling his eyes at my unexpected remark. “You think I’m attractive, and I was called a monster my whole life…so I guess so. A monster can be beautiful.”
            But Zuko was handsome – whoever called him a monster, they were wrong. He was a product of misfortune, who rebuilt themself, became something better. Zuko eyed my expression as I absentmindedly nodded at his words, but I wasn’t satisfied. Because that wasn’t the question, I really wanted to ask.
            “Ask it, love. You’re itching to ask.” Zuko mused, seeing right through my act. And I did just that, asked him the question I wanted so desperately to know his answer for.
            “Can you love a monster?”
            “…the better question is, do you think a monster is worthy of love?”
            Is it selfish for me to say yes?
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            Waking up to the beautiful smile of Zuko’s was the best way to start the day.
            Our limbs were messily intertwined with each other; Zuko’s arms were hugging me close to his body. My face was flush against his chest; his hands combed through my locks. He was always so careful, not wanting to yank at a tangle, relishing the way the silky strands slid between his fingers.
            “Mm, good morning, love,” Zuko whispered between hushed lips, pressing the top of my head with chaste kisses.
            There was a certain raspiness in his voice that had me mewling, purring as I snuggled against his pec, hearing his steady heartbeat. His voice was low, almost drunk-like, as he let his lips brush by my temple for one last peck. “How did my baby sleep? Feeling better?” He hummed. I felt the way his hand trailed down my hair, following my spine, stopping at the hem of panties.
            “Perfect, warm.”
            “I should start charging you.” Zuko pestered, and I gazed upwards, a grin on his face. “A kiss per half hour?”
            “That’s a pretty steep rate.” I bothered, and Zuko laughed.
            “You’re right, just for you, I’ll give you a better rate.”
            “So, there are others you warm like this?” I pouted, failing miserably to mask the bubble of jealousy that suddenly emerged. I knew that my statement was false; the thought of Zuko sneaking off and having some side affair was more of a joke than a possibility. He was far too devoted, too loyal to be the type to cheat.
            But despite the obvious, Zuko smirked, “Of course not, baby, that’s why I’m giving you the best rate. For my one and only customer.”
            “And what would that be?”
            “Two kisses per half an hour.”
            “Zuko, that’s even worse than the last rate you gave me!” I laughed noisily, snorting at Zuko’s logic. He chuckled, chest rumbling underneath me as he stole another kiss on my head. “You caught me red-handed, love.”
            “I swear, one day I’m going to freeze you,” I grumbled under my breath, trying to hide the fact that I was enjoying this way too much. “Temperature play? You really are a kinky one.” Zuko teased, and I blushed.
            “T-that’s not what I meant, Zuko!” I shrieked, infuriated that I let Zuko get a rise out of me this early in the morning. But the smile on Zuko’s face grew the more flustered I got, cheeks a baby pink as I blew. How can I stay mad at him when he looked so damn cute?
            A knock on the door caught our attention, stopping our tantalizing banter short. Zuko shuffled, and I rolled over, letting him sit up. “Come in,” Zuko spoke loudly, the door creaking open just a bit. I pushed the heavy blankets off me, reaching for my robe and letting my arms slip through before standing up.
            “Good morning Kim-oh.”
            “My apologies, Fire Lord Zuko, Imperial Consort Ying Yue. Kima and Lia took the day off today; it seems they are tied up at the moment.” A lady spoke. My breath caught in my throat, staring blankly at the lady before us.
            Her hair was short, highlighting her sharp angular facial features. Her eyes were tapered, a stunning violet colour, pupils like slits. A tea tray was carefully balanced in her grasp, as she thoughtfully walked forward. The whole time her eyes were locked with mine, a sinister smile on her face.
            “I bring you your morning tea. To help with your illness, Imperial Consort, doctors' orders.” The lady spoke, a deliberate hiss towards the end. I felt myself on edge, unable to finish slipping my arm through my robe as I just stared.
            “Thank you; you can leave it on my side,” Zuko spoke, snapping me out of my haze.
            His coarse voice seemed to catch the lady’s attention, too, shifting her eyes to him, licking her lips without a care in the world. “As you wish, Fire Lord Zuko.” The way she purred out his name, the seductive tone, it had my skin crawling.
            She shuffled forward, letting the tray fall on his nightstand with a loud clank. Hastily, I put on my robe, tying it to my body as if it was a layer of armour. “I’ll take my leave. Enjoy the tea.” She spoke, forcing a crazy smile on her face wicked, matching her eyes.
            I observed her every step. She was light on her feet, and I noticed how ill-fitting her maid's clothes were. They were far too tight, highlighting her toned physic. With one last crooked smile, the door shut behind her, the air filling my lungs.
            “Fucking weirdo,” Zuko muttered under his breath before reaching over his nightstand. He grabbed the ceramic teapot, pouring the hot liquid into a teacup. The steam filled the air, and his large hand cupped the small teacup before eyeing me, “Here, love.”
            “Give me a minute; I’m going to brush my teeth. I feel yucky.” I glowered, and Zuko rolled his eyes. “Come on; I like your morning breath.” He teased cheekily, pulling the teacup back to his chest.
            “Eww, you’re so gross, Zuko.” I giggled; the uneasiness of that maid’s presence long forgotten.
            “Some would call that romantic,” Zuko shouted as I waltzed my way to the bathroom. I look over my shoulder, shooting him a look of disbelief. “The Almighty Fire Lord Zuko a romantic?” I said, biting my lips as I rose my brows.
            Zuko hummed, bringing the teacup that he had originally poured for me to his lips. The way he looked over at me while taking a slow sip, “Mmmm, are you trying to say I’m not?” He challenged. But I saw the way his nose scrunched up for a moment, taking a whiff of the tea.
            “This smells gross…and tastes just as bad.” Zuko muttered under his breath, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s medicine Zuko, my medicine, not some breakfast tea.”
            “Tea is tea, but fuck – this is really gross.” Zuko groused, and I laughed at the way Zuko complained under his breath. Yet to my amazement, he took another swing. “You just said you don’t like it!” I snickered, shaking my head.
            My hands pushed the bathroom door open, letting the natural light from the windows light the space. I winced slightly, feeling the cold tiles against my feet, wishing I made Zuko get ready first. His natural warmth always managed to heat the cold tiles.
            “Yeah, but I don’t want it to go to waste.” I heard Zuko grumble loudly, voice sounding rougher than usual. “Zuko, don’t worry. I’ll drink it all.” I reasoned, searching for the toothpaste. Where was it? My eyes frantically scanned the marble counter, spotting our toothbrushes, face towels, cleansers.
            “Hey, Zuko. Did we finish the toothpaste?” I asked, my gaze darting all over the place. He must have forgotten to tell me we ran out last night. A small pout fell over my lips, hands falling over my hips as I stood tall.
            “Zuko? Hey Zuko-”
            The sound of glass hitting the ground had my blood running cold.
            My feet moved without me thinking, dashing into our bedroom frantically, “Zuko? Are you ok-”
            Zuko’s face was red, hands desperately clawing at his throat. He was heaving, sweating, veins popping as he was hunched over, coughing. I could see the deep red marks etched into his skin as he tore at his throat, “Zuko!” I cried, and at the sound of my voice, his head snapped upwards.
            My heart stopped, seeing how wide his golden eyes were.
            They were bloodshot, tears bubbling up as he wheezed.
            “Help.”
            He’s choking. He can’t breathe- I ran.
            “Zuko, I’m here, Zuko, relax! You need to try to breathe.” I panicked, running to his side. My feet slipped against the wooden floors as I dashed, but I found myself stopping abruptly. Ceramic littered the floor. The teacup was shattered into a dozen pieces, small fragments of herbs littering the floor-
            The tea.
            “Guards!” I screamed, jumping into the bed as I hastily crawled to Zuko. His chest rose and fell frantically, shoving him back as my fingers trailed to his neck. The bedroom doors flung open, the sound of heavy footsteps entering the room, “Imperial Consort- What happened?!”
            “Call the doctors, Zuko is poisoned. He needs help!” I cried, not bothering to turn to face them. I shut my eyes, trying to find his pulse, hands shaking. His heart was pumping, throbbing piercingly as he struggled to breathe.
            He’s dying.
            Something abruptly grabbed my wrist, my eyes snapping open, and I couldn’t stop the sob that erupted from me. Zuko’s eyes met mine, and I could see it.
            “I-I love you.”
            “N-no-no Zuko. You’re not going anywhere.” I sobbed, hands frantically touching his throat. His pulse was dying. I need to do something. I need to do something-
            That’s it.
            If it’s the tea, it’s a liquid. I can bend the tea from his skin like sweat. I yanked my hand away from Zuko’s, grasping his chest and pushing my arms against his heating skin. My eyes shut closed, tears overflowing as I focused.
            I can’t feel it.
            I can’t feel the fucking tea.
            “I can’t bend it!” I shouted in frustration, moving my hands up and down his body, trying to find a fucking drop of it in his system. His body can’t have ingested the tea into his bloodstream. For something like that to happen, a few hours would have had to pass. It’s impossible – unless.
            My arms stiffened, freezing in my spot, hands no longer frantically searching his body.
            The tea wasn’t tea.
            I dug my fingers into his skin, breathless as I realized what was happening. I could feel it, it was there, in Zuko’s body, in his blood.
            If the tea was mixed with someone’s else blood – poisoned, then it’s possible- the poison is already in Zuko’s bloodstream.
            He’s going to die.
            I can’t save him.
            I can’t bend that; I can’t- My heart pounded loudly in my ears, pulling myself away from Zuko’s body. I couldn’t stop the tears that fell down my face.
            I can’t; I shouldn’t-
            My feet wobbled as I crawled off the bed, steps stomping against the hardwood floor as I dashed to the array of dual swords that decorated the wall. A weak sob left my lips as I pulled the guard off the sharp blade, throwing it across the room.
            A quick twist of my feet, I felt my heart shatter, watching the way Zuko withered in our bed. His face was purple, hands desperately clenching the blankets underneath him as he wheezed painfully.
            I shouldn’t-
            My hands were shaking as I slowly inched towards Zuko.
            His golden eyes lined with mine, seeing as I eased my way to him with a sword in hand. “I’m sorry, Zuko- I’m sorry.” I cried, pulling my gaze away from his. I couldn’t face him; I couldn’t look into those sweet eyes. I didn’t deserve it, not a single part of him.
            I winced as I stepped on the shattered teacup, cutting the soles of my feet as I leaned over Zuko’s dying figure. The sharp blade pressed against Zuko’s throat, sniffling as I shook my head.
            “I wanted to tell you, Zuko. I really did. But-but-”
            I pressed, Zuko wincing as the blade easily sliced his soft skin, droplets of scarlet tainting his neck. I threw the knife away, jamming my fingers into the open wound. I sobbed, feeling the pain that Zuko was in, “I wanted to tell you the truth Zuko, I wanted to. But I was selfish.” I cried.
            I shut my eyes, and I could feel it.
            The poison, it was mixing with his blood, and I panted heavily. It was starting to fuse; if I don’t do this now, it’ll be too late.
            I reached the point of no return.
            Fingers jammed into Zuko’s wound, feeling his veins pulsing, blood pumping frantically in the pace of his struggling heart. Zuko’s life was far more important than the consequences I would face.
            I can do this.
            I will save Zuko.
            My fingers twisted, earning a painful groan from Zuko. “Bare with it Zuko, I’m sorry!” I cried. Just a little bit more-almost- got it.
            I yanked my body back, wrist snapping and Zuko inhaled loudly.
            Relief.
            I twirled my hand, panting heavily as black spots flooded my vision. I was pushing myself too much, just a little bit more- I felt the way Zuko’s blood separated from the foreign blood, tainted with poison.
            My eyes widen, taking in the disgusting sight.
            Dark liquid, almost black, floated in the air as I bent. My other hand weaved back and forth, trying to separate Zuko’s blood from the poison. The muscles in his body eased instantaneously, and with one giant huff, I balled my hands, the poison collapsing in itself, freezing into a ball in the air.
            Zuko sat upright, his hands falling over his chest as he dry heaved. Spit fell from his lips as his body shook with each cough, air squeezing past his sore throat and filling his lungs.
            He’s breathing.
            I saved him, and at that moment, I made the fatal mistake of looking at him.
            His eyes met mine between forced pants.
            “You’re- you’re a- Bloodbender.”
            His hand lunched forward as if he was trying to grab me, and I stepped back. With whatever power I had left in my body, I swung my hand forward. His eyes widen, I could feel the way he tried desperately to fight against me, but it was useless. He let out a tired groan, and his body fell limp.
            Letting gravity take over, Zuko’s body fell into the bed with a thud.
            “Yue!”
            The doors burst open, a pair of arms wrapped around me as doctors and nurses flooded the room. A numbness filled my body. Arms falling limp to my side, only noticing then I had Zuko’s blood on the tips of my fingers still.
            Blood…
            “Yue.” Aang breathed heavily in my ear, and I fell to the floor, on my knees. I watched as Katara checked over Zuko’s body, “He’s okay, he passed out, but he’s breathing, he’s okay!” she shouted.
            Aang shuffled in front of me, dropping to his knees with me on the floor as he cupped my face. His fingers brushed the tears that fell down my face before pressing his forehead against mine. “He knows…doesn’t he?” Aang whispered, voice pained.
            “It was the only way to save him, Aang.”
            “He loves you, Yue-”
            “You can’t love a monster.”
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Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.
Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.
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artificialqueens · 3 years ago
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Gimme Love, 7/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder
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AN: Sorry in advance, but this chapter is kinda short. But we do get more conflict, more drama. 3 more chapters! Who's pumped? No one.
TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: Brief blood mentions.
2020
Remember how I said I was on a journey towards happiness? In the beautiful world of Brianna Caldwell, life said, "Nah."
The next day, it was apparent that things were only getting worse.
"Ed Sheeran is still on board," Joey stated matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms, the safety visor making a rustling sound as he did so.
He was joined by Nina, Alex, and Michael. A few of the lab team were at their desks, trying to ignore the current confrontation, including Jujubee.
She looked as if she wasn't paying attention to the ordeal, but I knew Jujubee like the back of my hand, and she was listening. I couldn't help but want her to speak up and help me out here. But she hadn't spoken to me since the day before.
"Yeah, he is." I put my hands on my hips, standing at the front of the lab, while Joey and his friends sat there and looked up at me.
"Why, though?" Joey continued to question.
"God, we already had this discussion," I spoke quietly, looking to the side for some sort of distraction.
"Yeah, but you said you'd figure something out." Nina input.
"Yeah, you did." Alex joined in. I glanced at Jujubee in the hopes she'd join the conversation. Her eyes remained on the chemical she was working with.
"Why did you choose him in the first place? Why not…" Michael paused, deciding to join the argument, "Bill Nye...or someone who actually has an interest in Space and Science."
"Yeah, for real. Like, you do realise that in years to come, when kids read about 'Neil Armstrong - the first man on the moon, they're gonna flip the page and see 'Ed Sheeran, confirmed the first man to enter another dimension.'" Alex added.
"Like, how do you even explain Ed Sheeran as a choice?" Nina held a hand out in questioning.
I finally found a crack and slipped back into the conversation, "Because your project manager is a disaster when she's drunk and makes stupid choices without even thinking."
"We know, Brie. You were drunk." Joey rolled his eyes like he was tired of hearing the same story.
"Maybe you should stop drinking." Alex squinted his eyes.
"Yeah, we don't wanna go there, but maybe this is a problem," Michael added to the point.
My eyes were becoming wider with every word they were saying. This was absolutely ridiculous. Again, I was hoping Jujubee would argue back, but she remained silent.
Nina, however, was the one to interject, "Jesus, guys. You're taking it a bit too far." She stood up and gathered her lab coat, "Look, we all do dumb shit when we're drunk. She's not a mess, OK?"
Joey laughed. I held back from calling him out for the time that I caught him hiding in the closet playing Candy Crush for an hour.
"Well, even so, she should take this into consideration," Alex suggested.
"And do what?" I unfolded my arms and held them out by my side, "call him and say 'JK, Ed. It was just a joke, Ed.'"
"Girl, you're the one who got us into this mess. You figure it out." Alex raised his voice. How very fair of him. I was the one who had to deal with this problem, yet they were the only ones who seemed to care.
"Mess is a bit of a harsh term." Nina pointed out.
"Exactly, there is no mess here. Juju and I have already figured this out," my gaze shifted towards her again, hoping the mention of her name would cause a reaction. Nothing, "So I'd appreciate it if I could stop getting all this flack. I don't need flack from you," I pointed at Joey, "I don't need flack from you," next, at Alex, "or you," then Michael, and I moved my finger in Nina's direction, "or...Jesus Christ, you're having a nose bleed."
Nina's hand flew straight up to her nose, pulling away and examining the red liquid. "Oh, my Lord!"
She tried wiping it. But more blood poured out like a faucet that had been slowly turned on.
"Can you just...get out of here and get that cleaned up?" It sounded bitchy. But I was panicking. I never did well with blood. Therefore I looked away and hid my face.
"Thanks for helping, boss." Joey practically snarled, handing Nina a bunch of tissues. Like hungry wolves following the scent of the blood, the 3 men followed her out of the room, Joey still scorning at me as he left.
It was just me and the other scientists left in the room.
I turned and moved to one of the counters, picking up screws and bolts as if I was actually interested in them. But I couldn't ignore the presence of my best friend.
Hearing shuffling, I turned. She was standing up and gathering her things.
"Juju." I approached her.
She only quickened the packing up process.
Reaching her bench, she was already turned in the direction of the door, "Juju, are you just gonna ignore me all day?"
Finally, she looked at me, adjusting her bag strap, "There's nothing to say."
"Oh really? Well, you can decide to drop me as a friend, but you're still working for me, so we need to communicate."
"OK," Jujubee shrugged, "Well, what do you need to discuss with me that's work-related?"
She got me there. Licking my lips, I breathed out with a quick sigh. "OK, look, last night, we didn't end on a good note. I'm not saying I was wrong, and neither were you. Can you just please set that aside and talk to me?"
She squinted her eyes. "So, I'm supposed to just let the problem keep building?"
"Juju!" I briefly raised my voice, a few of the other scientists glanced in our direction. Jujubee looked uneasy now. So I lowered my tone again. "OK. I'm just gonna say it. I fucked up. I fucking...wrote her a creepy message, and I don't know what to do, and I have no one to talk to about it."
She let out a sarcastic laugh, "You're still looking to use me as your therapist. You learned nothing from what I said, Brianna."
I was silent, incapable of speaking anything else.
She looked away to the ground, "This is taking up my lunchtime."
And with that, she moved to the door, the sound of her heels like a clock ticking down.
"Juju, what can I do?" I held my hands out by my sides. "How am I going to make you satisfied?"
With a hand opening the door, she was frozen for a moment. I thought she would have walked on and ignored me. But she looked over her shoulder and said, "When you realise she's not the one who cares about you."
She left the room, pulling the door closed. The noise caused me to flinch.
I turned around her words in my head.
Two of the scientists were whispering, one glancing at me. I felt my chest become tight. "Hey. This isn't a social gathering. Get back to work."
Despite their astonishment, they moved away from each other anyway.
I instantly felt like a bitch. Technically yeah, it was my job to keep everyone working. But I rarely raised my voice.
I left the room, seeking peace and quiet.
Sitting in my chair, I held my hands in my head, staring at the redwood desk. Moments like these should have felt like a luxury, just sitting there, relaxing. But my mind was racing with too many thoughts.
I had no idea what I could do to make amends with Jujubee. But I could try and sort this Ed Sheeran problem.
Loading up my emails, I opened the thread with Ed Sheeran (which was actually only 3 messages and most likely with his manager).
I hit reply and started typing.
'Listen, Ed. There's been an issue…'
No.
'Dear Mr Ed Sheeran, we regret to inform you…'
'Hello, Ed. It's Brianna from…'
'Ed, big fan of the work, but…'
I squeezed my eyes shut, already feeling exhausted, like each press of the backspace button represented a loss of a brain cell.
For all the achievements I had earned throughout the years, for all the accomplishments, why the fuck was this so damn hard?
The telephone rang, causing me to jolt. A sigh left my lips as I tried to breathe. Pressing the speaker, I said, "Jackie, what's up?"
Jackie, my receptionist, spoke, "Hey, honey. Your Mom's on line 2."
My hand clenched around my pen, already feeling that familiar sense of dread.
"OK, thank you," I spoke quieter.
I hesitated for a moment before finally clicking line 2.
"Hi, Mom," I uttered.
"Hi, baby." She said quietly. "How are you?"
"Fine." I lied. "Nothing really new here. How about you?"
"All good…" she sighed, then paused briefly, "Actually no. Things aren't good. I...lost my job. The usual, they found someone better. And I've been trying so hard to find a job."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, and on top of that," she sighs again, "Brie, honey, there is no easy way to say this; Piggie's sick."
My breath caught in my throat, but I tried to remain calm. "What's wrong with him?"
"They said it's Lyme disease, Brianna. I...I don't know what's going to happen." Her voice cracked.
"Look, don't worry. I'm gonna send you money right now. It should cover the bills. He'll be - -"
"No, I didn't call you to ask for money." She said quickly, "I was just wondering...I know you're busy and everything…"
Fuck. My eyes squeezed together, hand tightening around the phone.
"But...I would love to see you. It's been nearly a year now." Her tone softened.
And immediately, I wanted to say no. Considering the circumstances, a visit would fuck with my head. Seeing Piggie, my emotional support through teenagehood would crush me.
"You there, baby?" She asked.
"Yeah," I whispered.
"I just...I don't want to be alone. What if the medical treatment fails? I'm gonna have no one, Brianna. I don't want that." She pauses again, and my chest tightens, tears filling my eyes. "Brie, baby, please come."
I can hear the pain in her voice. But I can't help but feel that sense of fear, the anxiety.
"Don't leave me alone to deal with this, please. I'm at my lowest. And I don't know if I could do it all by - -"
I hit 'end call'.
I put the phone back and rested my head in my hands.
I knew this was my fault - our strained relationship. I could only see that now, how emotionally unstable I was. That sounds like a joke, right? I just didn't expect it to be this bad.
Nothing was getting better.
-_-_-_-_-_-
2004
I threw my bag in the back seat before climbing in the front. My hair was soaked from the rain. I literally just ran from the school to Mom's car, not even outside for that long, yet so much rain.
I said nothing, only rubbed my hands together to keep warm.
"So, the schools flooded?" Mom asked.
"Yeah."
"The whole school?" She looked past me and to the building, an eyebrow raised. "It doesn't look that bad."
"It's just the shop classes and cafeteria, to be honest." I put my hands between my thighs to make the warming up process happen quicker.
"That's a bit unnecessary to send you all home."
"Yeah, well, I'm not complaining."
Mom fired up the engine, and we were set for home. There was a moment of silence that fell among us. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But when she turned the radio down, I knew we were in for a discussion.
"That's not the only thing the school called me about today." She started.
"Oh?" I looked out the window. I don't know why but I assumed they had finally exposed me for smoking around the back of the building. But it was doubtful as I had stopped during the Summer.
"They're concerned about you, Brie." And so was she, now that I could hear it in her tone. "Your grades have only gotten better the slightest amount."
"Well, I can't just go from a C to an A in a matter of days." I still looked out the window. "And besides, I'm staying behind every other day for extra studying."
"Are you sure you're not just flaking and hanging out with Jujubee instead?" There it was, the accusatory tone.
I looked at her now. "No? And if it makes you feel better, you can call her Mom and ask. How's that sound?" I scoffed, "God, I don't need this. Not like I'm dealing with enough at school anyway."
"Well," she was silent for a moment as if daring herself to speak again, "Not that I'd know, I mean, you don't really open up to me about school."
"Yeah, because there's nothing you can do about it." Was I wrong? What could she do? Barge into the school with a gramophone and yell, 'Stop picking on my daughter!'
"About what?"
I rolled my eyes, "Doesn't matter. I don't wanna talk about it."
I could practically feel the way she held back from rolling her eyes.
"Well, the only other thing I can think of is that you're too focused on all this space stuff." She sounded more irked now. "You need to focus on your future, not all this make-believe crazy conspiracy theory shit."
"Oh, that crazy conspiracy theory shit that my Grandpa enjoyed?" My tone was slowly raising.
"I didn't mean it like that. I'm saying your Grandpa didn't make a living sitting around and fantasising about all of this stuff. He knew the difference between having a career and having a dream."
"Well, God, not like my interest hasn't got a thing to do with my future prospects, Mom. No. Who would have thought." The sarcasm was thick in my voice.
"Whatever it is you're striving towards, it sounds more like a dream to me. You need a more stable plan." Mom flicked the indicator quite aggressively.
"Oh my God," I laughed, "That's hilarious. You have no idea what I'm striving towards. You can't even tell me what it is."
"Does it matter??"
"Just shows how much you give a shit about me, right, Mom?"
We pulled up to a red light to Mom's delight because she pulled the handbrake.
"How dare you." She seethed, "How dare you speak to me like that. I have done nothing but give a shit about you all these years. I have been there for you, every nervous breakdown, every time you wanted to cry but wouldn't, every time you needed your Mother the most. I was the best Mother I could be because I know that deep down you were hurting." Her voice cracks. "I know that you struggled for so long, what with your parents and all, but I've done all I can to give you what they couldn't. I held you. I loved you. But now, what I'm getting back is this...attitude. All I did, Brie, was express my concern, and you immediately went on the defence." She paused again before lowering her tone, "And I know you want to hold on to this space stuff, so you don't lose someone else. And I know you're in pain. But is this actually what Grandpa would have wanted??"
We held each other's gaze for another moment before the light finally turned red. She started driving again.
But I wasn't done. "Really? All of that and for what, Mom? God, you have no idea what Grandpa wanted for me. If only you knew what he asked of me when he was lying in his deathbed."
"And what was that?" She raised a brow.
"It doesn't matter." I crossed my arms and was back to looking out the window.
"Of course." She stated.
"Just...stop, please. My grades will be better. Now, we're done having this conversation."
I could feel her seething, the heat of her anger radiating through the cramped vehicle. But she said no more.
Not even for the rest of the night.
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faelune-home · 3 years ago
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(fanfic) “how the guiding light wavers”
(A/N: I’ve had this in the works for a few weeks now. I first brought it up in this long post I wrote to establish character stuff, but this is the work that will finally make me feel a bit more secure in writing for my miqo’te girl. I’m aware it all sounds convoluted and bizarre to fixate on a name like this, but it was something that bothered me, and I’m the one actually doing the writing for my own character, so I do hope that this fic finally makes writing easier.
But alongside the name stuff, it’s also a larger look at where Fhara is emotionally throughout Shadowbringers I suppose. A little bit of where she’s come from and where she’s been so far and where she stands before entering Endwalker, so there’s at least a little bit more to this fic than just name shenanigans. XD
Name shenanigans and heroic title woes and legacy musings. All wrapped up in a complicated bow. Aha. I’ll probably do more Scion interaction focused additions on Fhara’s woes and worries later, especially since I had some in the original fic only to remove them as it was getting way too wordy, but this is the main meat of those feelings here and now.
Strong spoilers for the ending Stormblood patches and Shadowbringers, more so 5.0 and then just fleeting mentions of patch stuff. Set after 5.3.
Word count: 4760
Ao3 link)
When she set out from her home for Eorzea’s shores, she had a goal; to become a hero, and make her name known across the world. To be known as someone great and powerful, with monsters big and small bested at her hand, yet also someone kind and helpful, saving people and making their life a little bit easier. A lofty goal, but one she figured could be done, one small step at a time. After all, every adventurer started small.
Little did she know that her forays in Eorzea would grant her her desires, at a much faster rate than she anticipated; she joined the Scions, with their close ties to the city leaders and their own aims to protect the realm, and in gaining a reputation as a primal slayer, became known as a fabled Warrior of Light. A type of hero normally assigned to legend. It was everything she could have wanted and maybe even more than she could handle. It was a heavy title, but one she wore proudly, all while continuing as she had originally planned.
Yet as time passed, the weight grew heavier. There was still pride and joy in doing the right thing for the sake of others, protecting the innocent from those that would do them harm, but at some point, in the midst of the fighting, torn between Ascians and the Empire, despite doing the same thing she always did, her thoughts would wander to her original purpose in undertaking this grand adventure.
To become a figure of whom stories would be told, for those stories to return to her home and inspire the younger children, much like the old tales had inspired herself. To teach them to do good, to do better, to help others, to be brave, to be kind. An idealistic idea but one she held fast to. And by all accounts, fighting under the Warrior of Light title aided her even further in another aspect of her plans; to allow her to step back from the world once all is done and know peace when she hung up her bow and settled down.
When she set out from her home, she was ‘Fufu’; an old childhood nickname she’d long outgrown in her village, with the exception of her aunt, repurposed for her heroic exploits until the Warrior of Light title seemed to do the job better. Then in Eorzea, in the comfort of those she came to call a second family, she could be Fhara again. And it was nice, comforting even. To know that others knew her as more than just her heroic title, and that the Rising Stones could feel like a home so far away from home.
A home that was always filled with the sound of laughter or chatter, always someone socialising with a friend or partner, or busy working, the Rising Stones had all the energy and joy within its walls that she knew from her home, even with all the group had been through. To find that joy stripped out, the halls empty of people as her dearest friends collapsed into lifelessness and everyone else was left to fill in for their missing teammates…
For Fhara, it left her with no-one. But the Warrior of Light still had work to do.
The Warrior of Light had faced down conquerors, defeated dragons, set free thousands from the shackles of tyranny. But Fhara had never been alone in her feats, always with her companions at her side, or standing strong behind her, keeping the way clear for her, ready to back her up.
The Warrior of Light would go on to face Zenos that day in Ghimlyt Dark, the whispered tales from young inexperienced soldiers speaking how she almost pushed him back single handedly, with the famed Azure Dragoon jumping into the fray to assist her. In truth, Fhara stood alone on that battle field, facing a barely weakened, Ascian possessed corpse, the collapsed figures of her resistance comrades strewn behind her, she kept going until she herself blacked out under mysterious circumstances, only surviving by Estinien’s timely arrival.
Her recovery in Ishgard started her thinking, mixed in with the anxious waves of the mysterious caller’s words. The Warrior of Light would ever be revered for their acts, but as a single entity. Whereas Fhara, while capable on her own, worked best with a team, with her friends by her side. Working out a plan of attack together, or simply knowing they were there with her gave her strength. Yet standing on the field that day, the only thing giving her the strength to fight on was the desire to protect others, for if the Ascian controlling the fallen crown prince made it past her, Eorzea would no doubt suffer.
Then a stray thought...what gave her the strength to start doing all of this in the first place? What was her drive to begin with? It seemed so long ago…
‘Fufu’ had come all the many malms from a small village on the outskirts of Thavnair to become a hero, one that would have bard songs made about her for the sake of children’s tales. But the Warrior of Light had ultimately taken on that role. So what was the point of continuing to call herself ‘Fufu’ to the public? Was it just a habit by that point? A desire to hide herself behind an identity that both was and wasn’t her? After all, it was a nickname that had long been associated with her, and in the absence of any other ideas for an alias to call herself - oft teased as she was for her poor imagination for naming things - she had fallen to the easiest idea of her old childhood moniker.
Maybe it was time to move on from such childish notions? Her thoughts were neither bitter nor certain. The questions merely buzzed in her head as she left them unanswered.
She left the city with her golden hair cropped, a request asked of Jandelaine, met in passing before she left Ishgard behind her.
“It is a shame,” he’d said at the sight of her shorn twintail, the other loose from the hair tie, matted with blood and dirt, “But I can tidy it up and it’s like it never happened. A return to beauty and grace, just say the word.”
She could’ve kept it the same, and continued on as normal. But instead it was all gone. Because maybe a fresh start was what she needed?
~*~*~
The First was not a fresh start. At least not one Fhara was expecting. A land on the cusp of destruction, perpetually bathed in an unnatural eerie light, the people hunted by Sin Eaters, suffering either death or a torturous transformation in turn. She very quickly learned how terrifying, how desolate some corners of the land of Norvrandt could be, and she could well understand why, if people were living in such conditions.
Her first port of call in the strange new land was the oddly familiar gleaming tower, a recognisable pillar even against the hazy glowing sky. And within was the enigmatic Crystal Exarch, ready to greet her with open arms.
She had mixed feelings about the Exarch, on many points; having Called her friends and left their lifeless bodies back on the Source in an uncertain state, or even that Calling them was an accident in itself, since she herself was meant to be the target gave her no end of frustration toward the man. Even then with the knowledge that he hadn’t intended to summon the other Scions, the idea that he had wanted her to act alone in saving the First was one Fhara couldn’t help but balk at. 
Of course she was willing to help, she couldn’t stand seeing people suffer while she knew she could do something. But to think she would be able to handle the work singlehandedly was pure folly. In that way, perhaps it was a small relief then that she had the Scions to help her, unintentional was their presence on the First. Even with the uncertainty surrounding their summoning and the state of their separated selves, she at least had her friends and teammates with her.
However it was his first impression beyond his summoning mishaps that stuck with Fhara and kept her uneasy around the man; no sooner had she arrived at the gate, he had welcomed her past his wary gate guard, quick to introduce her and settle her into the Crystarium. A warm welcome for sure, and not one she was ungrateful for, however the mix of familiar and unfamiliar in the man’s demeanor made her cautious. 
That he knew her so well, so casually referred to her as ‘Fufu’ before she had even introduced herself, how comfortable he seemed while using it - hand waved away as him learning it from old records stored within the Tower, a name used in tandem with the Warrior of Light title, although it reignited her recent troubled thoughts on her public identity - while she knew nothing about him, that not even his own people could say much of him did nothing to ease her. Every factor together had her wanting to keep the Exarch at arms length. She would do as he asked - save the First, bring back the Light, prevent another Calamity from decimating the Source - and in return, he would return her friends’ home. That was all that was needed.
Of course, things would never be that simple.
In a land ravaged by Light for 100 years, a Warrior of Light was considered a heathen, a villain that had doomed them all. Instead, the people hoped and prayed for a Warrior of Darkness to be their hero. And so Fhara, with the starlit sky returning in the wake of her arrival, would become that hero.
Fhara didn’t want to say she hated it, however the dizzying speed with which the title and the stories spread was a shock to the system, moving even quicker than her reputation as the Warrior of Light had grown on the Source. She couldn’t blame the people for their enthusiasm, especially when the hero of legend’s arrival coincided with the return of the night after a century without.
She didn’t hate it. But she found herself seeking the comfort of her closest friends more often than she used to before. She knew they weren’t looking at a grand hero, but just Fhara, who stood up to answer the call. And they stood with her. As the days would pass on the First, rarely was she without a Scion by her side, only truly left alone in the comfort of her inn room, and even then, the wayward spirit of Ardbert was a presence she didn’t resent.
The days would pass, and the night returned across the land, and beyond the walls of the Crystarium, away from the crowds of people that would revere a hero, through pixie flower beds and dense forests ever shaded from the skies, and into desert ruins of a civilisation long lost-
“Welcome aboard, Ryne.”
Fhara had seen the young Oracle struggle under the weight of her legacy, the expectations of her duty to protect and act as a beacon of hope for the people of Norvrandt, while also living in Minfilia’s shadow by virtue of her name and powers. Fhara could empathise with the young girl, having long known the feeling of so many people relying on her and her own more recent doubts that she could live up to those hopes. She kept trying all the same, as she knew the Oracle would as well, for it wasn’t in Fhara’s nature to give up if she could do something.
But now, seeing the newly christened Ryne standing with a fresh air of confidence about her, her only nerves being about doing a good job for the sake of the team and helping relinquish Amh Araeng from the grip of the Light, Fhara was proud of the girl for her new lease on life.
Yet also a tiny bit jealous, that all it took was a name and a declaration to do better by herself for the girl to suddenly be brimming with courage, whereas Fhara fretted and frayed and languished under a gifted moniker, calling herself by her childhood name and then acting as though it were her only option, that she had no other choice...but was it always that simple? To just announce to the world you could be born anew yet still the same person?
Perhaps it wasn’t exactly the solution Fhara was looking for, but it was an idea towards a resolution for her woes. After all, she wasn’t trying to begin fresh like Ryne, Fhara just wanted to be Fhara, as she always had been. It was just trying to express that to the world at large.
It was only when the Light she had been capturing within herself finally overpowered her and left her weakened and stumbling, sitting at death’s door, did it finally seem to become clear to her. So rarely before had she gotten so close to death that she had never thought so closely about what she would leave behind, or who would remember her and how. The people of Norvrandt knew the Warrior of Darkness, Eorzea knew the Warrior of Light and the Scions knew Fhara. And if she died that day that would be the memory she would leave behind. 
Yet she realised, lying in her inn room, she didn’t want to just be remembered as a hero under a title, or by a name that most of her nearest and dearest scarcely used. She wanted to be remembered as Fhara, at least if it were possible.
She’d certainly made the attempt to introduce herself as such during their travels across the realm, but with how quickly people came to know her as the Warrior of Darkness, she feared that her attempts were being drowned out. However before their ascent of Mt Gulg, as the crowds gathered from across the land to assist them, she found that they knew her as Fhara, and they would talk to her, and they wished all the Scions the best of luck. And among a small few, the Warrior of Darkness was not a title solely attributed to her, but to all of her friends.
It was nice. A reassuring gesture that her efforts were noticed. Even as she stumbled her way to the deepest depths of the seas in pursuit of Emet-Selch - keenly aware that if she failed, she would be dooming the First and her fellow Scions along with her - she held onto that knowledge. After all her worries, it was an odd source of courage for her, bolstered by her desire to survive, and the understanding that she wasn’t alone in her duty.
Altogether her feelings gathered, and in the face of death and her desperate wish to live, and her wish to be known for more than her heroic tales, she made her decision. She’d never been afraid to make the first step before, not even into the unknown. She’d come all the way to Eorzea on a whim and a want, and faced almighty foes more powerful than herself with nothing more than the determination to protect those that could not fight back.
If she lived through this fight, she would cast aside her anxieties, and take that first step again.
~*~*~
Fhara wasn’t the type to call meetings, she was the type to attend someone else’s meeting. And yet the majority Scions were gathered in the Rising Stones, with the miqo’te standing at the head of the pack, nervously shuffling her feet. What few Scions that weren’t accounted for were assured to be updated afterward.
She ran her fingers through her hair, no doubt to calm some nerves, although the action drew the attentions of the group members that had only seen her sparingly during her otherworldly adventures; since last they had seen her, she’d left for the Crystal Tower with a short crop, still wearing her tattered and torn bard coat, an uneasy smile on her face as though more to reassure those around her than because she genuinely felt like her hopeful self. Yet each time she returned to report to Tataru with updates, she was a brighter figure, with a spring in her step as she relayed the progress on the First, and her hair would grow out slowly to the feathered bob she now wore. It wasn’t quite the cute twintails they’d known her for when they joined, but she looked all the more confident nowadays with it.
She finally started, with a loud voice, albeit one that cracked as though there was still some anxiety holding her back, “I have something I want to say. Something I’ve been thinking about for a long while now and that I want to be clear on moving forward.”
Any mumbling between parties silenced immediately. Fhara’s tail flicked at the now heavy hush, however some encouraging gestures from the figures at the front most row - some few nods and a thumbs up here and there - allowed her to continue, “Thank you for being here. Truthfully, some people here already know what I’m gonna talk about. But I’d rather make it clear to everyone now. This whole thing might sound rather silly to some people, that I’m worrying over nothing. Some of you might even say that if it means so much to me, then it’s not such a trivial thing. And I appreciate that, I do.”
She hesitated, ears suddenly flattening. “To cut out a long story, when I came to Eorzea, and when I joined the Scions and became known as the Warrior of Light, I told everyone here they could call me Fhara. It’s who I am after all. But outside where people would know the Warrior of Light better, then they should call me ‘Fufu’. That’s still technically me, it's an old name I was called as a child. And it’s the name I chose for travelling because...I suppose the easiest way to put it is that I wanted to separate my private life, if I ever chose to return home, from my adventure life. But lately with everything that happened and with a lot of the dangers getting so much bigger than even the Warrior of Light I just started to worry about who I really was and what I was doing.”
“Like how? You seem the same to me?” Aenor spoke up, ignoring the disapproving nudge from her frowning sister.
“I mean, I hope I do,” Fhara smiled, although it was more wistful looking than pleasant, “I never tried to pretend to be someone I’m not, no matter where I was or who I was with, or what name people called me. But I started thinking I was getting lost with myself, like people were seeing two different people with me.” Her tail flicked again. “I should say now, I don’t hate being the Warrior of Light. A lot of people try to project that I’m frustrated with it or that I could be doing better with a title like that, but none of that is true. I don’t hate it. But it’s hard. People have big hopes and expectations for me when they treat me like that, and I’ll always try to reach them, but it’s not always easy to do alone. So truly, I’m forever grateful to have you all with me at my side.”
Casting a glance over the Archons and the twins, Fhara continued, her voice somehow smaller, “But when the Callings happened, and then everyone else here was stretched to take over the work, and this place was left empty so much, I...well, as senseless as it might sound, I felt alone. But I still had a job to do, but doing it alone was hard. Because everyone else knew this brave warrior that could handle anything, and I didn’t feel like that at all.” The quiet admission brought about guilty whispering rippling through the group, until a sharp cough from F’lhaminn hushed them again.
“T’was never our intent to make you feel as though you had no-one to lean on,” the older woman said, “Especially during such a time when our own were falling out of commission. But then it was precisely such a time that we all struggled to balance the work that needed to be done, and to fill the gaps left behind. If that struggle left you without support, then that would be our failing, and for that we would owe you our sincerest apologies.” The mumblings rose once more, letting out a small chorus of “sorry”s and “‘pologies”. 
Fhara gave the woman a grateful nod then added, “I understand, I do. And I didn’t say that to call out anyone here, but I won’t deny that a lot of people across the realm talk about me in such grand ways because of the work and feats I’ve done, and it’s hard to feel like I’ve lived up to their stories. In that sense, being on the First kind of helped; it was a fresh start where I could try again to do the hero thing, but in a lot of ways, it wasn’t, because the same thing that happened here on the Source happened there. People needed a hero, someone to help them, and I just became the Warrior of Darkness to answer that need, and that’s what most people knew me as. But it still gave me a chance to try and start afresh with myself, and now I feel better about where I stand. And I want to bring that feeling and those certainties back here.”
She didn’t mention Azem. Though the suggestion that Fhara may be related in some way to that Ancient had brought her more hazy feelings, she had insisted that none of that mattered. The final insistence had brought her here now, to her certain decision. She was herself, and she didn’t have to worry about being anything more.
She let in a deep breath, steeling herself as she said, “The Warrior of Light is here to stay and she’s the one that will go down in history, and I can’t change that. Not everyone in the world will know the real me beyond the heroes tales, and I can accept that. But at least on some level, I can try to let them understand me. And that can start with a name. A name can be lost to time, so I get that people in the future will never know Fhara. But the people here and now can, and that’s all I want.”
With a final, certain nod,  she declared, “So from now on, I’m Fhara. Not just inside these walls, but outside them as well. It took a lot more words to say that than it probably should have, but I hope you all understand it now.” Uncertain of how to finish her speech, she took the skirt of her purple dress, already wrung tight by her nervous hands, and gave a bow. There wasn’t an immediate response. It took another glance at the twins next to her, giving her comforting looks to ease the tension in her shoulders, until another voice spoke out from behind the group.
“‘At was a lot of words to get the message out, but it looks here that it meant a lot to ye to make it sure as sure fer us lot,” the crowd parted, and Riol nodded, looking satisfied, “I think I’ll speak fer us all when I say message received loud and clear.” Fhara’s eyes started to water as she looked around to assurances and smiles, and possibly unnecessary cheers from what sounded like one of the Boulder brothers, but it was acceptance nonetheless.
“Thank you,” she sniffed, trying not to actually cry, rubbing at her face, “I mean it. This all probably sounds really ridiculous and I’m overthinking everything but-”
“There shall be none of that,” Y’shtola interrupted, “None of that self-doubt at least. We’re here for you no matter what decision you wish to make for yourself. You of all people deserve the support, and we are all the more glad to provide it.”
Fhara’s ‘Thank you’ caught in her throat, all she could do was nod. The larger group dispersed, individuals coming up to give her more reassurances and words of comfort as they passed before continuing on to their work. Urianger took G’raha aside for a word, both men departing to Dawn’s Respite, leaving the rest of the archons and the twins by Tataru’s desk with Fhara.
“So that’ll be a weight off your shoulders then?” Alisaie asked. Fhara nodded, letting out a heavy breath and slumping forward with the effort.
“I was more nervous for that than I thought, and it was just in front of the other Scions. But I’m glad. I feel like that is a step towards feeling more like myself, even if I never really strayed from that in the first place...I think.”
Thancred let out a thoughtful hum, looking over her suddenly tired frame. “I’ll say you never changed much, but I can see the ease it’s brought you now. Although if this is you after telling people that knew your little secret, how will you be with others, I wonder?” He ignored the peeved expression from Alisaie next to him as he brought it up, especially when Fhara’s face became a picture of concern.
“Oh, we’ll probably have to tell the Alliance leaders. Or do we? Is this an official thing I have to report on? Is there a process for this?” Fhara asked, eyebrows furrowing. Was there more work needed in this decision that she hadn’t thought of? Was there paperwork?
“Not to worry, I can get some official missives written up and shipped out in a jiffy,” Tataru stated, giving Fhara a bright smile and a thumbs up. Fhara returned it with a relieved look of her own, and the receptionist hopped onto her chair and set to work.
“Honestly, knowing diplomatic types, we could just use your name normally as though it's always been used, and rather than risk a faux pas, the Alliance leaders would just go along with it anyways,” Alisaie suggested with a wry smile.
Alphinaud shook his head at the suggestion. “While I don’t doubt that that is possible, sister, I would prefer if we erred on the safe side and actually updated the Alliance. We don’t have to make a large fuss over the matter for Fhara’s sake, but at least informing them of the change would be better for the Scions’ standing with them in terms of open communication.”
Alisaie rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Of course, brother.”
“At the very least, Lyse is already familiar with you personally,” Y’shtola said, addressing Fhara once more, “Even should the rest of the Alliance falter or take time to adjust, she would be able to take charge on the matter and make the adjustment easier for all. You needn’t worry about being left alone to handle this.”
“Yes, that’ll help,” Fhara smiled, however her eyes then dropped to the floor, a worrisome look on her face once more.
“Thinking now about how many people I’d need to update or inform, it feels daunting already. I’m questioning now why I thought the whole alias thing would be a good idea.”
“Really now, it’s beginning to sound like you’re thinking of telling the whole realm. You’re going to worry yourself like that,” Alisaie huffed. However she then added with a softer tone, “You said it yourself that you won’t be able to change everyone’s perception of you. Many will know the Warrior of Light, and some few will know Fufu. The odds of you coming across every familiar face you’ve ever known after this will be slim. But if it does happen, you don’t have to explain yourself in any great detail. All anyone needs to know now is that you’re just Fhara.”
The words, simple as they were, brought a warmth to her chest. And surrounded by her closest friends, those that had been with her for most of her journey and through thick and thin, the idea of continuing on into the unknown ahead of them didn’t seem as daunting anymore.
“Just Fhara...I like that.”
And that was all she needed.
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middleinthenight21 · 5 years ago
Text
Damirae 2020- Day 4
Forbidden fruit
(Inspired by Mr. and Mrs. Smith)
How has your marriage been?
Damian: Alright.
Rachel: Not so much… We are busy people, we have a job to keep and issues to resolve, it may not be going as we want, but it happens to everyone. It is normal.
He needed to know how they feel about each other. Can you summarize your partner in three words?
Rachel: Damian is ... Distant, arrogant and insufferable.
Damian: His judgment is terrible, difficult to read and is sarcastic.
How long have you been married?
Rachel: We've been three years.
Damian: Three years, eleven months and one day. That is more than three years.
This may be a question that will surprise you, but I need to know. If you would rate your sex what numbers would you give it?
Rachel: Excuse me?
Damian: What does that have to do with it?
You came to couples’ therapy; I am also a sex therapist. My diplomas are hanging on the wall, I thought you had seen them.
Rachel: Isn't it wrong to rate sexual intercourse?
Damian: It would be a 3, or a 4. What, Rachel? We have been without sex for months.
That is not a good thing, Mrs. Wayne. Let's move on to another question, are you honest with one another?
Rachel: Yes. Quit.
Damian: I am honest, but I am also a believer that not everything can be counted.
***
Damian was running late. Lying in bed she looked askance at the clock that read 3:35 AM, there was no trace of his presence and she tries to give her an excuse; Maybe he was late for his job at the company or delayed because the trip from Gotham to Jump City is long.
Their marriage may not be having a good time, but that does not make them precisely unfaithful. Rachel still loves him, he still has his heart in her hands, but she feels how the wall that separates them becomes thicker.
How long before it’s too late for apologies? because one of the two would get tired.
She wants a home, a place to call her own, but she gets an empty bed, hollow glances, and short answers. Damian could call her whenever he wanted, he would have her, but he knows it doesn't work like that, because the last time they opened their hearts to each other was to admit that this marriage was not going as they wanted and they agreed that they would work on their relationship, they would do their part.
By being late without justification, was he doing your part?
Damian had given her a beautiful house, stability, and a love match. He is an ordinary civilian, they had promised not to be left alone, but she was. Maybe she was more sincere….
Looking at his empty spot, his side of the bed has the sheets intact and a small pile of poetry books on the nightstand, she feels her heart drop to her stomach. She can't help but feel hurt with him for leaving her with the uncertainty itching inside her, her mind flies to directions she doesn't want, and everything is about to fall apart.
Her phone rings, and it's not personal.
"We need you here. Now. "
Kory's voice is clear, it sounds urgent and there is a sound of explosions in the distance. Her mind clears, she has to go help her friends now.
With a gesture she summons her uniform, her hood is over her head and his identity as a superhero takes place, he sticks the cell phone to his ear "Who attacks? "
"It is the League of Assassins."
She frowns.
And opens a portal to the area where the fight is.
***
I won't be able to go to sleep.
Family problems.
-Damian.
***
Starfire asks them to meet in the tower when the fight ends. The sun caresses the mountains dyeing the sky a pink tone, and sighs watching the message on his phone, at least, she would not have to give an explanation why she did not spend the night at home.
The battle with the League of Assassins was not so long, she had stayed in a hiding place where she could control, while the young Titans fought with the criminals, she covered the team's back. Something about this group made her uneasy, it was like walking in the dark only guided by movement, she compared them with the followers of HIV, there was no soul or feelings to manipulate, they seemed like empty bodies. It gave her the chills just remembering it.
They congregate around the central panel, where an image of a dagger sheltered in the cellars of the bank is observed, it has a transparent reddish blade and it looks sharp, along with a leather handle. At first glance it does not seem harmless, dare to say that the dagger is for decoration, that it is intended to be beautiful, but to not be used.
It is not true.
According to the investigation of the Titans, the League of Assassins is behind a dagger made of a precious stone called ´´The Blood Diamond´´, it belonged to Ra´s Al Ghul and ended up in the cellars of the Bank of Jump City, after the Dark Justice League destroyed his plans to eliminate all magical beings, at the request of the Justice League.
It is said that the blood diamond is made from the bone and cartilage of the defeated, these are cooked in an oven to the ashes, the ash is compressed and the diamond is obtained, a single cut of that gemstone could invalidate beings magical, like her.
She can't imagine how many bones it took to forge a dagger.
Heroes that their powers are born from magic would be affected by the diamond cut, most magical beings have accelerated healing abilities and with a single cut they could never heal.
Raven flinches.
Kory's gaze pierces her "We've already relocated it to our warehouses. They must know that it is imperative that it be protected from all threats. "
There is an assent, she feels the fear of Halo, that her powers of regeneration also come from magic, without them she would have died a long time ago. There is an atmosphere of uncertainty when the new members leave, it is dangerous to keep such a dangerous object in their warehouses; they had made the tower of the titans a target for the league of assassins.
"Where's Dick?" Beast Boy asks. He hadn't seen him in two weeks, as he is currently an active member of the young justice team, he is surprised at how little has changed since he was a teenager. He looks at Kory. She was not here.
The alien keeps her gaze on the screens.
"He had a private matter to solve," he answers softly.
Richard can be as reserved as Batman when he wants, but he shows more emotions and had received her with open arms when he felt lost, when he was a girl who had escaped from a hellish dimension carrying pain and suffering that she wants to bury in the deepest Deep in her being, he had helped her, given her a family and showed a way of life: Protect the innocent, but he is also an idiot, dense as a brick and emotionally hurt by a past that he cannot push aside.
She knows that Kory will not share information about Dick, she would keep his secrets, although they will beg her to open up, she wants to ask her how she is carrying him; Marriages are complicated and she did not expect a path covered in rose petals, still they make it look so easy.
"How's your husband doing, Rae?"
His eyes are on her and she can't tell them he hadn't gotten to sleep, that she ran away as soon as they contacted her to run away from an empty bed and the feeling of loneliness that was killing her. She had that whole huge house to herself in that posh neighborhood, but she felt trapped.
He wanted to go back to the moment they met on the undercover mission in that bar in Miami. Raven was on a covert mission with the Titans, they had to gather information about a merchant in the open market, and they knew that the man used to enjoy the city's nightlife.
She met him in a bar, when she entered the terrace he had looked at her, she felt him like the flames on her skin and when he leaned down to ask her to dance he did not think twice; She'd never let anyone touch her like that in one dance and she wondered what their hands would do if they shared more time together. She learned his name is Damian Wayne, the son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, she bit her tongue not to mention Dick's relationship with the millionaire, he has other things on his mind anyway. She had never moved like that against another person, but he had made her feel like a dangerous woman.
Damian had woven a web around her, but if he is a spider, then Raven is his predator.
They had moved against each other, together her hands behind his neck caressing from the nape to the waist, she was surprised to feel the muscles through the clothes and wanted more. Damian touched the contour of her torso, one of his hands slipping under the shirt circling her skin, she continued to rock to the rhythm of the song, as if his touch wasn't driving her crazy.
She brushed her lips to his neck and felt him tense up.
They were so close together that they felt each other's breath on their faces. Looking at it from the outside it was fortunate that they had been in a dark place, because it would have been uncomfortable for others.
After the dance they exchanged phones, and each left.
She was surprised when she could not stop loving him in her life, she became a hungry person for being touched, for feeling loved and every time he put a hand on her, the chills ran through her. There was a first date, a second and when she least thought she wondered which part of her he hadn't touched. Every time she was with Damian, he put her to sleep, her life had been full of missions, thinking about the innocent and stopping the sea, but she found a rest with this man.
Maybe they would have known each other better ... If everything had been slower, but they were a whirlwind of emotions and feelings.
Now she wonders what would have happened to her if she had not accepted his call a few days later, she knew something clear and that was that she had lost her mind for this man, only one dance and one look had been enough for him to decide to continue with this, as it was the first chapter of a novel and she needed to see what happened to the rest. Maybe she had thought he was a masterpiece, maybe he was made to be an adventure and not a marriage.
He finds himself returning to that summer night in Miami, wondering if there was any difference that could have been.
"He's fine." She can't tell them about the distance, the couple’s therapy they were attending, and the loneliness. "Everything is great."
Kory gives her a sympathetic look, like she knows something she, herself doesn't. For a second, her heart skips, she thinks Damian said something to his brother, but knowing her husband, she doesn't believe it.
"I haven't seen him a while," Jaime says, scratching his hair.
 "He's been busy," she replies.
"Yes. "
Kory looks down, looks distant. The team leader and surrogate mother had been an important point of support in Raven's life, she thought that when she told her about her relationship with Dick's younger brother she would be happy, then everyone would be a small family, but she did not have a good or bad to comment. It was weird.
"I have an interview in ... "
"Silence, Garfield."
They exchange glances. Kory had rarely been spoken like this, only when they had something important that ...
"They're robbing us!"
The camera shows the cellars, figures dressed completely in black escape through the ventilation and run towards the cellars, Kory runs, and she follows her. Her heart is a time bomb, and she thinks how dangerous the dagger would be, he feels guilty for trusting herself.
Observing around and taking care that there were no more roaming assassins.
Starfire shoots fire at the cellar door, the door crashes to the floor, and the place is quiet. Alarms sound throughout the tower, there are red lights that prevent them from seeing normally.
"Why did you do that? " Garfield observes the destroyed door, he is transformed into a snake trying to track the intruders.
"The quarantine protocol will be activated, nobody will be able to leave or enter," Raven responds. His eyes move, she summons her powers and tries to search for the assassins; they should be trapped by the ventilation duct. "They will be trapped. "
"I have a visual! " He yells from somewhere.
Suddenly the room filled with gas, and she felt her throat close and her eyes turn glassy, ​​it was impossible to keep them open. She tried to call her companions, but she did not hear or see anything, her hands traveled to his neck if it would clear her lungs, her head hurt, and she supported her hand against a wall.
They were trying to get out, out of the corner of her eye she saw bodies breaking the glass of a window with a piece of furniture. She stretched out her hand with difficulty, a black spider web shot out in a burst of energy and caught one of the assassins before he escaped through the broken window, the intruder gasped, fell to the ground with a loud sound, and writhed.
He was strong.
He was not going to be able to resist; he could hardly breathe ... His mouth felt dry, his throat was sandpaper and he had trouble standing up.
The killer curses and another returns, pulling so hard that he has to give in. The larger shadow burdens the laggard by wrapping his arm around his shoulders and throws himself out the window.
"No, no, no…"
By then her vision is clouded and she falls into unconsciousness.
***
Raven is angry when she wakes up, because it is 7 AM and she is still not allowed to go home. The dagger made from the blood diamond was stolen from the Titan's cellars under their own noses, Starfire paces back and forth thinking how strangers had not triggered the tower's sensitive alarm system.
The leader looks tired, she thinks it looks like when Nightwing becomes obsessed with a criminal repeating the robbery video repeatedly. If Raven hadn't had coffee, she'd already be yelling at her to stop, because she was freaking her out.
"Kory, you won't find anything. We can go to Nanda Parbat to retrieve the dagger" she offers. She takes a long drink at the coffee, holding the bitterness. "Please. "
The other members give her appreciative glances, knowing that it would be impossible for the leader to rest.
Starfire can be more stubborn than Nightwing or Damian when she wants.
Chance, Damian!
"I have to go." Raven stands up. "Damian should already be in the ... "
"Back up there!"
Garfield sighs, but heeds her. Starfire makes the image stop that shows the killer that Raven made fall to the ground, her hood had slipped off her head, but the image is blurred and is only a black stain, she orders the image to be clarified and brought closer to her face .
Raven comes up carrying her coffee, now interested in the results, but he's just a pixelated face. It does not prove anything.
"I'll clarify the image again."
Now there is the computer charging. Starfire twists her hands, at least she is going to have a goal, Raven is happy because at least they would have a face that could be guided, it is better than being guided only in assumptions and in paranoia.
When the face appears on the screen, she holds her breath and the cup almost falls from her hands ...
Damian Wayne's face appears on the screen like a red flag, and the whole room stops, like paralyzed.
***
Are you waiting for me for breakfast? -Rachel.
Yes- Damian.
***
"Did they bring the dagger?"
Richard leaves the dagger in Batman’s possession. He doesn't like the idea of ​​having to rob the young Titans, after all, they were his team and he has personal attachments with members, he doesn't want to hurt them. They are also heroes.
Damian understands his father, knows how the assassin's league operates. They would soon attack the tower without caring if there were teenagers who depend on the team and the news of the infiltration of strangers would spread faster, that Batman had asked to keep the weapon. The Batcave had been compromised before and his father was not trusting, so he ordered them to infiltrate, pretend to be part of the Shadow League, thus diverting the attention of the young Titans.
He takes off his boots, finding a bruise around his ankle, he growls, "That witch girl."
"Something happened? " His father narrows his eyes.
"Nothing. "
"Raven attacked Robin," says Dick.
"Try to pretend you're not proud."
Richard smiles.
Batman growls and heads to the bat computer, entering a code that gives him access to the tower cameras a few hours ago. The security guard leans over the screens looking at the images frame by frame, Damian looks away in response to his wife's message and crosses his arms.
He's not interested in anything to do with the young Titans, so infiltrating the tower isn't a problem for him, but he hadn't expected Raven to have intercepted him. The smoke they used to neutralize the Titans was medium intensity, but the heroin had withstood it.
He growls when his foot hits the floor, he will have to justify to his wife the bruise on his ankle.
"I have to go, father."
"Damian, come here." Dick gives him a worried look. His father's back is to him, he's bent over the bat computer. "You’ve got to see this. "
"Bruce ... "
Damian approaches the screen and is surprised.
***
Both arrive at the same time. Raven squeezes her hands on the wheel, she has a grocery bag next to her on the passenger seat, and her head is a tangle of emotions; she had taken care of her whole life so that the feelings did not overwhelm her, a part of herself was always contained, but this time she wanted to scream and pull her hair.
Damian had lied to her. He entered the tower of the Titans, stole a dagger that could surely affect her in the name of the League of Shadows. She had lived with a murderer the past two years.
She feels betrayed, although that sounds hypocritical because she also hid her identity as a heroine; her mind fights with her, half reminds her of guilt and the other shouts at her to run.
No, she needs to stop him.
She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting until he pulls up and tries to remember Starfire's words: I’m sorry, Raven. We have to know where the dagger is. We need to know if he is working for the League of Shadows.
He opened the car door, his black jaguar had been a wedding gift from his father and when Damian walks into the house, there is a frown on his face that only appears when something is bothering him, but it is like a shadow and disappears instantly. Titus makes his way through the front yard, jumps on the grass, and his tail wags, excited to see his master.
Damian caresses the Great Dane and now there is a small smile on his lips.
She looks away, reminding herself that he can be an enemy, but the man she lives with every day has never made a single move to hurt her, he did not behave like an assassin would. Perhaps she is underestimating him, her mother spoke as she had been taught by her demonic father, at first, he had shown himself as a desirable man, the one they write in novels, but her is far from being so.
Not everything is as they paint it.
When she gets out of the car and looks at her own house, she did not expect her heart to squeeze in her chest, they had looked for this house in the suburbs of Jump City, decorated it and dreamed of a future together, Raven had fallen in love with normality. Choosing a carpet for the living room, worrying about repairing the leak that wet the floor in the hallway and the quiet dinners, but it had been too silly.
Her old anger turned into a nostalgia that threatens to eat her up inside.
As much as she thinks he lied to her, that they were built from a web of falsehood, she still loved him.
He was looking at her from a few meters away, she gave a greeting and carried the supermarket bags ready to prepare breakfast.
Titus follows her into the house, she can feel Damian's eyes on her body, and decides to ignore it.
Raven walks to the kitchen, places the bag on the counter and strokes Alfred, the cat rubs himself on her legs, she swears she has never seen a cat this big; he is so fed that his belly is like a balloon.
"You bought strawberries," Damian says.
She puts on a kitchen apron, brews hot water in a kettle, and leaves two cups on the counter.
She sits on the stool, Damian is now chopping the strawberries and the knife in his hands is small, she almost gulps when she sees the instrument and remains alert.
"How did it go last night? "
The cuts are now louder "well, how did it go for you? "
They looked at each other and she knows those eyes, it's like he was going through her, wanting to see beyond appearances. Damian had rarely looked at her this way, it was when he knew she was hiding something from him and that she would not admit it unless he pushed her.
A panic button is activated inside her. He couldn't know, how? It is impossible.
"I was waiting for you all night."
His muscles relax and he looks up, the lines of expression on his face are neutral.
"Sure." Cut half a strawberry. "You always get up very early" emphasized the word "very".
Raven looks at him.
Damian looks at her.
The atmosphere feels tense, it is as if an electric current dances through the oxygen ready to ignite everything in a short circuit and she finds herself standing up to store each of the groceries, prefers to focus her attention on something more productive than having a fight of looks.
"You must be tired; it would do you good to rest" she gets a box of tea and sugar.
Damian keeps his eyes on the fruit "I'm not tired. "
Why was everything so difficult? It is she who should be angrier, if it were not so complex perhaps this marriage would go for better ways, perhaps she would have been sincere before and would have already revealed her true identity, so they can save this shit.
He can't be acting like she's the one who made a mistake, he's surely a murderer!
She can no longer bear this silence. Raven is in charge of putting on music, does not care what it is and leans against a piece of furniture. He may be a dangerous person, but she is too, and she would get the location of that dagger made from the red diamond and save the day.
If he can lie, then Raven too.
"Of course not, my dear."
Damian frowns and the knife stops, as if suspended in midair. They are not a sentimental couple, the number of times they have been named affectionately are few, they were always formal.
She turns to look into his eyes. She never used her powers over her husband, she knows that they share a bond, her soul had intertwined, but she did not dare to see further; now it could be different.
"I am a strong man," he pauses. He slides the fruit into a bowl with the flick of his knife, setting it aside, "my dear."
She raised an eyebrow.
The music and their pets are the only thing that is moving, the melody is jazz, and it feels very different from the energy in this room. Raven rests her hands on the counter, inches from Damian's knife and her hands, if she made a single movement, she could change the atmosphere in a second.
She is more interested in concentrating on the color of her husband's eyes, since it would be easier for her to use her powers on him, if he was lucky she would hardly notice it, she only needs to go into his mind to return to the moment he infiltrated the tower and find out where the dagger is located.
Damian smiles and of course she has seen that smile on his stupid face before.
He puts a hand on top of hers. "Do you think I'm a fool?"
Had he noticed?
The line hints that he is angry, yet the smile lingers on his lips and his hand glides to her forearm gently stroking his fingertips against the skin. Raven feels as if a chill ran down her back to her feet, and this shouldn't be happening.
She has work to do.
"I would never think that."
He narrows his eyes, abandons the touch and she think that he is going to move away, however, he walks to her side, looks her in the eye. She holds her breath, her hormones appear out of nowhere, and this is a bad time for her body to remind her that they haven't touched in months.
Damian does nothing, burns her with his gaze and can't think of anything else to where this scene can end.
It is she who first leans over, stands on tiptoe and places a kiss against his lower lip, it’s soft and subtly feels proper. He shouldn't slide so simply, he still has to answer the Titans, even after all his criticism of their bad judgment, he was still wrong.
Damian caresses her neck and his hands are familiar, safe.
Her interior cries.
How can she live without this? How can she be with someone who she thinks they belong to be part of such a dangerous organization? She is the daughter of an intergalactic demon, a conqueror of worlds, a genocide, she is no one to judge the past or the life of another person, she curses her own bad luck for getting involved with someone dangerous.
Damian knows how to play in the right places, knows her weak points, her erogenous zones, slides a hand under her shirt right on his hip, her hand remains in circles and she is sighing against his lips.
Raven caresses his torso, from the hips to his heart, her hand remains on the organ and she feels his heartbeat, kisses him so hard that he stumbles and one of hid hands wraps around her waist raising her a few centimeters. Now they are face to face.
He kisses her back with the same intensity, caresses her hair and pulls her ponytail leaving loose on her back. Raven growls but is silenced when he meets her lips again and now it's like a fight.
She remembers the moment when she realized that she could live her whole life with Damian, when the lights had adorned the city at night, and they met for dinner at his apartment in Gotham. They had only known each other for two months and she had escaped in a portal at night just to see him, because a voice she did not know begged her because she wanted to have more of him.
He has the look of a bad boy, an arrogant posture, full of pridefulness, at first glance the type of man you do not want to run into because he will steal your heart without a drop of remorse. He will run away with your heart in his hands and he will throw it away, but he thinks she is a generous soul, she believes that Damian Wayne can be a beautiful person, difficult to find, one of those who prefers actions to words.
Everything is going so well that it scares her too much, but she doesn't want to run away. She thinks how difficult it is to maintain a relationship with her other identities, the dangers and death that surround them, she really wants to be honest and tell her story, but it would also be something harmful for someone with Damian Wayne, son of a billionaire, who has had stability all his life (Later she would find out that he did not always have a privileged life). She would screw it up and she doesn't want to.
They had been talking about Oliver Twist, oriental spices and new tea that she wants to try while drinking wine in glasses. This is comfortable, she could feed on his company alone, she would be happy; her life had not been fun, she thought that her twenty-one years was beyond her expectations, but she found himself wishing for this.
He now holds a glass of wine in his hand, sitting on the couch with his eyes fixed on the city lights, she thinks she has not seen anyone more beautiful.
What?
She smiles "I'm in love with you. "
Damian raises an eyebrow, leaves the wine glass on the table, and smiles at her. "Me too."
Raven feels something melt in her heart. It would never be the same.
She walks towards the sofa where he is, sits on his lap and Damian surrounds her waist interlacing his hands on her waist, they press their bodies together and Raven rests her head on his chest, contemplating the set of buildings that make up the city.
Her heart feels full.
She looks him in the eyes "Hello, stranger," Raven says with a small glance, it is as if they were looking at each other for the first time, she remembers that stranger in the bar who had tied her up with just a dance.
Damian smiles.
Raven remembers that moment.
Now everything has changed, they have been married for years with a commitment that was breaking in front of their eyes, perhaps if they had been more honest with each other, but still taking her breath away when looking at him, Damian's kisses make her feel that others do not compare with him.
They are kissing in the kitchen without caring about the sound from the outside. Raven can melt right now, stroking his short hair through her fingers and pulling, wanting them to pressed closed together even more.
Lust fills the room with a carmine red color. Many had thought of passion and lust is a fiery red, like anger, but it is carmine like the shade of blood, just as dangerous.
Suddenly they are struggling to remove the other's clothes, pulling so hard that they pull buttons, new threads form and when she struggles with his shirt. She feels like he growls when he feels the pinch of a nail on his skin, but only pushes him to want to kiss her with more strength.
"I know about you," Damian growls between kisses. His palms run over her collarbone, between her breasts and down to the base of her stomach, he stops there as if he was mocking her. "I know who you are. "
What?!
Raven gives him a push, putting distance between their bodies, as if she wanted to establish distance. She needs distance, she knows that the sight of their bodies could be tempting, so she struggles to focus on what is important and not on his bare torso, his skin is golden and strong. He had recently kissed her mouth and tried to touch every part of her body.
They gasp for air.
Raven's skirt is torn, he had made a cut at the waist and now she has to hold it so that it falls to the ground, the shirt she had worn is open revealing a bodice made of lace. It is a disaster; they are a disaster.
 "How do you know that?"
Damian frowns "I saw you. My father reviewed the recordings, as I think the Titans did. "
"Your father? "
"Batman."
He is not a murderer, but the son of Batman, how ...
"My father wanted the dagger made of the blood diamond. He needed to trick the Titans into not becoming a target for the league."
She is not surprised by Batman, he is always one step ahead of the other heroes, playing their battles and establishing plans that would make them pawns with a one-piece move.
Her father-in-law is Batman.
"He could have asked us for the dagger."
A smile glides over his lips. "Where would the fun be in that, Raven?"
His voice takes on a dangerous tone, it is like an animal preparing to attack its prey from the unknown, but she does not intend to fall for this. This day started in a strange way, she could pray to Azarath for normality to return to her life, but was it ever?
The world is a small place, of all the men that she could have ended up with, she chose the son of Bruce Wayne, who also acts as a vigilante. She should have known.
She is glad that the dagger is in the hands of Batman, she is glad that he is not a murderer, but she still feels that they have to fill empty spaces in her story.
If only the mind will not travel to dangerous places, perhaps they could have a moment to confess, they would take their time to explain their story and listen, but their imagination is like a closed room, it cannot escape.
He extends his hand caressing her cheek, traces the line of her lips with his thumb and is looking directly into her eyes, they look as if they have just met. She returns to that apartment in Gotham City when they behave like two heated teenagers for maintaining physical and emotional contact for the other. His eyes had been like jade, shiny and new, the color of hope and life, it represented a new beginning and she had thought that he had bewitched her because every time he gave her a look, she felt that he has her in his hands.
At what point had they cooled down?
She runs her hands on his shoulders, she feels like he relaxes instantly. She leaves a palm over his heart; it still beats with the same intensity.
They look into each other's eyes "Hello, stranger. "
Damian raises his eyebrows recognizing that phrase and captures her lips in a deep kiss, pressing hard on her lips.
She was getting lost; they could set the end of the world and she would only care about holding this moment together with Damian. Holding him in her arms and kissing his lips is her vice, he would not leave him for anything.
Hours later they are crammed on the sofa, Raven is wearing a shirt that she had found in the closet, it is not hers, she had been too lazy to dress in her own clothes and they decide to spend the afternoon lying down ordering food at home and they eat from the leftovers of the breakfast strawberries.
It touches her lips, it is something subtle, almost accidental, but she gets his full attention and rolls her eyes because she feels Damian is like the forbidden fruit to her. Every time he feels that she perceives herself as a dangerous woman, he would never get bored of this and he is willing If he break the rules, he can't resist Raven's touch.
He doesn't care what his father has to say.
She doesn't care what the Titans say.
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plumplips · 4 years ago
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DAY 15 - WHAT IS THE LOVE RECIPE
The love recipe.
It’s hard to really tell people what’s the recipe for love, because… What type of love are we talking about ? Are we talking about a family member, are we talking about a lover, are we talking about a friend ? What are we analyzing here ?
What comes to your mind when I tell you to talk to me about love ? Most people, when I mention that word, they think about a relationship, they think about a partner, they think about falling in love… Whereas I think about love, loving someone, not being in love… There is a difference between the two, in my opinion. You can love your brother, your friend, or whoever you love without having to be in love with them. And we can talk about love without having to think about partnerships.
So, what do you think love is ?
Love is an emotion that we could feel ever since we were born. It’s like feeling warm as soon as you put a sweatshirt on a cold day, or laughing until your stomach hurts and your cheekbones hurt. Those are the feelings that, I think, come close to what it feels like love is.
Love is an emotion. It’s a feeling. It is being grateful for someone, something, being in your life. Love is your mind wandering all over and making you smile like an idiot just because you feel a deep affection for it, he, she, they.
When you love, you feel a deep interest in that thing that you love. Sometimes, you could even talk about it for hours or, on the contrary, you keep it for yourself ; You enjoy that thing alone and you show affection, admiration, interest, in it whenever you feel like it. Sometimes love is loud, sometimes love is lowkey. But it can also be silent. When you love, you can fall in love but that is not an obligation. Sometimes you can love and suddenly that love goes away and that is totally okay.
The love recipe.
It is a mixture of so many different things. The first thing you need to feel loved or to give love back:
Trust. You need to trust that the affection that you are feeling at the moment isn’t a simple idolatry. You need to trust that the person in front of you has come into your life with genuine intentions. You need to trust that the people trust you back.
Most times you would ask someone else the recipe for love and they will start with “attraction” or “communication skills”, but it seems not a lot of people talk about trust. Being attracted shouldn’t be in the recipe, because again: love is vast, there isn’t just one type of love, and second: it is logical to be attracted to your lover first before trusting them… Being attracted to someone you would want to enter a relationship with is logical. But you need to trust them first, because when you trust them you should be sure that there is:
Safety. Feeling safe around someone is giving them your trust and them being so trustworthy that there would be no feeling of uneasiness when around them. You feel good, calm, at ease, satisfied when they are there… Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally their presence makes you want to lean your head on their shoulders because you’d know they wouldn’t turn their back on you for an unknown reason. You need to feel safe while giving your heart to someone.
It’s so hard for children, girls, women, to feel safe next to adults or men. It is hard for a woman to give her trust to a man and even feel safe around him… You never know how he could actually feel about you deep inside ; You never know what says about you behind your back. But that happens with family members too ; What if they turn their back on you ? What if they were to rat your doings to whoever ? What if someone let something disastrous happen to you and you loved them ? That feeling of safety is something that is really hard to grasp with so many people, but we need it to be able to be ourselves because when you feel like yourself you can:
Communicate. And communication is not just about talking about negative stuff and trying to tidy the mess you made in your room ; Sometimes, communication is just… Ranting freely to the people in front of you. It is being able to talk about absolutely anything and nothing at the same time because you two, because you all understand each other really well. You know, it is like when you hear a song for the first, third, fifth time and you have the impression that the singer speaks directly to you and you feel understood ? That is what communication is supposed to be.
It is funny though, because most say that communication is so important in a relationship, in any type of relationship… But I, for example, know that I am not the best at communicating with anyone. It is something that I have been struggling with, but really because the two first ingredients haven’t been put into the bowl ; when you don’t feel trust, when you don’t feel safe you aren’t in the right set of mind to talk about… Anything really. There isn’t anything that will come out of your mouth, whether it be a secret, a random fact, something about you… And if you can’t communicate, maybe you don’t know… But it is because there is a lack of:
Hearing. You know that saying “You listen but you’re not hearing what I am saying.” ? That’s it. When someone doesn’t hear you clearly there is no way you could ever confide anything to them. There is no way you could trust them, etc… You could be in love but… Would you really be if your partner didn’t listen to what was coming out of your mouth ? Hearing is being an attentive listener ; It is to prevent your mind from wandering around. When you don’t feel heard, you feel dismissed, you feel put to the side… You even feel alone sometimes and you just start closing up slowly, or on the contrary you look for that person that will hear you for the longest…
That’s what love is.
Trust. Safety. Communication. Hearing.
The love recipe.
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shannygoatgruff · 5 years ago
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My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter III
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Genre: Psychological Thriller
Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk
Rating: MA
Overall Warning:  Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.  
Chapter Warning: Mild violence
Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other.  Boys will be boys…
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Chapter III
How can I describe my baby brother?  He has to be the most together person I know. God, there are so many things about him that I admire.  Of course, I’d never tell him that; he’d probably think I was weak or something.  
Ivar is the kind of guy that rolls up his sleeves and does what needs to be done, no matter what the situation. If the bills need to be paid, Ivar finds the money. If there's a highly stressful situation at work, he jumps in, gets everybody to the shut the fuck up, and settles the uneasiness. He just has this knack – this talent for manipulating things.  It’s like he sees everything from every angle and then plans accordingly - he always has a plan for every possible scenario. 
He is always prepared. If I lose control, he's right there with a gentle voice and warm arms to make everything better. If evidence needs to cleared, he's always equipped with a bottle of bleach or a deep trench…it doesn't matter. He just always seems to know what to do.
He takes care of me; which is strange because I’m his older brother.  I don't complain about it. I accept our dynamics. Honestly, I like being taken care of by him. I'm sure in some way I take care of him, too, but I don't know exactly how. He never grumbles about it, though. He likes to be in charge. He thrives on being in control of things. He's not controlling by any means, people just naturally defer to his power. We all seem to do without even realizing it. That's probably the most attractive thing about him. When Ivar's in control, I feel safe.
He's always the funniest guy in the crowd and the smartest guy at the party. He's the guy that all the ladies want to get to know. He's well-traveled, well cultured, interesting, mysterious…he's someone that everyone wants to be like and they all want to be liked by him. I think that's why we get along so well; he's everything I'm not. I see so many qualities in him that I wish I had. But I know if I did, our relationship wouldn’t be as strong as it is today.
Having a lot of brothers is hard.  With so much testosterone in the house, you always have to compete. That’s why Ivar has always been my favorite.  With him, there was never a competition.  I’ve always known where I stood with him. He’s always known it, too. 
See, he has always had this charisma about him.  I don’t know exactly what it is, but he has this sort of presence that commands your attention.  Since the day he was born, he held my parents' attention, that’s for sure. He especially had Mother wrapped around his little finger.  She seemed to almost forget about the rest of us as soon as she saw him.  She spent every waking hour with him, catering to his every whim.  He could do nothing wrong in her eyes.  
When he got a little older and Mother wasn’t around, gradually, we all started to see Ivar as she did. If he wanted something, we wanted him to have it.  There is nothing in the world more beautiful than seeing my little brother happy.  
When he’s happy he’s gentle, nurturing, and the embodiment of love.  He’s the best of our parents.  His smile is like a slice of heaven that I want to keep for myself and protect from the rest of the world.  If I could, I would make him smile every day.  He makes me feel complete. I can't describe it. No matter what we're doing, I just feel safest when I’m around Ivar. 
That is until he gets angry. 
Ivar doesn't get angry often and almost never at me. But when he does, I know to stay the fuck out of his way. That's why it's so bad tonight. He's pissed but I just can't let him go off like he normally does. Not while Thora's here.
I don't think she hears him walking the hall. I hardly do him until I look at the bottom of the door and see his shadow. I know he won't come in here. He doesn't like Thora and she's not that fond of him. But if I don't go talk to him, he's going to go off and that'll scare the shit out of her. I can't let that happen.
"I'll be right back." I roll over and kiss her neck noticing the way she smiles innocently at me. She readjusts the pillows until she's the hugging one like she was hugging me. "Tell me what I missed." For some reason, I'm really into this episode of Prodigal Son. 
"Okay." She's not really listening to me. She's too interested in what's going on on the television. "Bring me back some ice cream? Two scoops of chocolate…"
I nod. I know what she's going to say next, and yet she still feels the need to remind me. "With chocolate Jimmie's on top." A smile creeps on my face when she scrunches her nose at me. I would do anything to see her smile. If only this conversation with Ivar was going to be as easy as a bowl of fucking ice cream.
By the time I make it down the stairs Ivar is sitting at the table with his arms folded and his lips in a snarl. I haven't seen him this pissed off in a very long time and the worst part is that I know that it's because of me. My steps are quiet in the kitchen and I'm trying my best not to make my presence known. But before my hand touches the freezer door, Ivar moves his chair.
"Why the fuck is she here?" His voice is calm, but it's only a matter of time before it gets louder. He's close enough to me that I can feel his breath on my neck. "You knew that we were supposed to go out tonight. We had plans, Hvitserk."
I don't understand his hatred of Thora. She's such a sweet girl. But I also know that I can't tell him that or that’ll upset him more. "I didn't know she was coming. She just showed up."
"Well, now she can just fucking leave." There's an eerie calm in his voice.  When I turn around to look at him, his blue eyes are cold. He doesn't mean what he's saying; I know that, but it still hurts to know that he hates my girl so much. 
But, there’s something more behind in his words tonight. Ivar doesn't take it well when he doesn’t get his way.  Since we were little, he doesn’t really doesn’t know how to handle the word no. More than that, anything standing in the way of him and his hunger is an obstacle that needs to be removed. With me, the hunger is like a gnawing in my gut that won't go away until I feed it. It's enough to drive me crazy but it's never debilitating. With Ivar it's all-consuming.
"I'm not telling her to leave, Ivar." I'm not afraid of him. I don't know how I just know that he won't ever hurt me. But I also know where the line is with him and I don't cross it. He just needs to be reminded sometimes that I have a life outside of partying. "I think I need to stay home tonight."
He moves over to the table calmly. This is just the beginning. My eyes close on their own somehow knowing the fate of the vase sitting there. I don't flinch when it crashes against the cabinets over the sink. I know that he needs to let out his frustration and since he won't do on me, the closest object at hand gets his wrath. I wish I could comfort him, but he's not the type that takes to comfort. He's not like me. He doesn't need someone to help him through the hunger or the guilt. He needs to work through this on his own.
"Fine. Then we'll all stay here." There's a condescending tone in his voice and the smirk on his face, as he makes his way to the stairs, makes my heart race. Somehow, I manage to move fast enough to the stairs that I’m just behind him and I touch his arm. I know that look in his eyes and my heart goes out to him because of it. I feel bad for him because he's in pain right now, but I refuse to let him touch Thora.
He pulls his arm away as soon as I touch it, however my hand goes to cradle his face and he lets me.  I look him in the eyes, "Ivar, don't.  Please?"
He runs his hand through his dark brown hair right before he punches the wall. "Why is she so different? I need this." His voice gets louder and this demented smile crosses his lips. He doesn't care that he's breaking the rules. Thora is never supposed to be touched.
I knew from the first time I saw her that she needed me.  Ivar and I were in a bar on college night looking for somebody young to party with. She looked so innocent waiting for her friend, like a good little church girl, and not the kind we fantasize about breaking. She wasn't interested in the guy that was trying to get her to leave with him, but he didn't seem to care. 
I can spot a guy like me from a mile away. He's the type that always has an intense look and smiles at just the right moment. He does little things, like brushes his hand across an arm, stands too close, and never takes no for an answer. I had never taken a woman against her will and I wasn't going to let him do that to her either. She seemed so relieved when I slid next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. That innocent look of gratitude was all I could concentrate on and I knew from that moment she needed me.
It didn't take long before that guy's face met the top of the bar and his shoulder separated when I pinned his arm behind his back. It didn't matter that Thora was scared only that she needed protection. And for the past year, I've been the one that protects her against everything. Nothing will ever hurt her as long as I'm around.
"You know why I'm with her." Ivar knows not to question me about Thora. He knows the plan.
I hate when he laughs at me. It doesn't happen often but it's the one way I know that he disapproves. "You really think you can stop, Serk? Do you actually think that little whore upstairs is enough to keep you calm? You're fucking delusional."
I don't care what he says. Whenever this hunger is finally settled, I want a normal life. I want a life like Father had with his first wife. I want a family and a house with a white picket fence. I wanna be the dad to take my kids to the park and drive across the country on family vacations. This thing…this hobby of ours, this life that we share, it's only temporary. One day I'll get my fill. I can feel it each time I feed it; I know what it feels like to be satisfied. I just have to feed it and keep feeding it until it goes away permanently. It'll happen and when it does, Thora is the woman that I'm going to have that other life with.
"Hvitserk?" Thora's voice is faint but I can hear her moving across the floor. I know she's scared and the panic in her voice is enough to make me plead with Ivar's eyes. She's afraid of Ivar; she's fucking petrified of him. I don't know why because she's never met him, not that she wants to. She only hears about him through me and of course when he blows a gasket like he's doing now. The side of him she knows about is the side that slams doors and throws shit around. She knows about the side of him that yells and curses and tries his best to take me away from her. It's no coincidence that he's like that whenever she's around, either. I think he only gets like that because he thinks she's trying to change me.
"She takes care of me, Ivar." I know that look of sympathy on Ivar's face well. It's not sympathy for her, it's sympathy for me. He knows how hard this is for me and that I hate choosing between them. I love them both and I don't like it when they put me in the middle.
"No, Serk. I take care of you." His eyes soften and so does the hardened look on his face. His fingers lovingly touch my cheek and he offers me a sad smile. “That’s my job.”
"Please, Ivy?" He brushes past me on the stairs and slams the front door behind him so hard that the pane of glass cracks. I know I hurt him but it wasn't intentional. I'll make it up to him later. Maybe tomorrow we can get two, one to make up for tonight.
Only her toes are visible on the top of the stairs, almost like she's trying to hide in the shadows. She wants to check on me, I know because that's the type of person she is. But her fear of Ivar will keep her from coming down. "Hvitserk, are you okay?"
With each step I climb more of her body comes into view. Everything from her pink painted toes to her strong bare calves and thighs barely hidden under the hem of my t-shirt tells me that I made the right decision. Her chest heaves while she tries to steady her nerves but the tears in her eyes are a dead giveaway. She's afraid for me. "I'm fine."
"Ivar's mad again, huh?" Her hand trembles as she reaches out to touch my shoulder. "Should I leave?"
I shake my head at her and put my arms around her. "No. It's fine. He was pissed but he's over it."
"Just like he got over the last time he got pissed?" She lifts my hand to her eyes and stares at the healing bite marks. I don't have the heart to tell her the truth, that Ivar didn't do that to me. She wouldn't believe it anyway. If I told her she'd be afraid and I couldn't take it if she were afraid of me. "He scares me, Hvitserk."
"I won't let him hurt you." Just feeling her cling to me with her fear curbs the hunger within me that I've been trying to ignore. No. I made the right choice. I want to take care of her more than I want to feed.
Thora needs me right now and I can always feed my hunger tomorrow.
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