#Two sword bois who are hopelessly in love for each other

[lenglengflames]

so, let's talk swords in tcgf. (minor spoilers ahead for some of the swords named.)

most of the swords we see in tcgf are jians, i.e. fangxin, hongjing, yulong (yushi huang's sword), ming guang (pei ming's previous sword), etc.

a jian, though it has many variations, it is generally a double-edged straight blade. it is one of the four major weapons (棍 - staff，刀 - sabre，枪 - spear，剑 - sword), and sometimes known as "the gentlemen of weapons", as an incredible amount of skill was required to wield it. common users of the jian were scholars and nobility/ royalty, be it for practical purposes or not - some carried jians simply due to their elegance/ for religious purposes, but jian were often signifiers of high status.

due to the nature of the blade, the jian is primarily made for stabbing or precise cuts.

the most significant sword other than the jian that appears in tcgf is e'ming, which is a sabre.

the sabre, or dao, is a single-edged blade, though the word dao simply means knife. it has a curved edge, and is meant to be wielded with a single hand. it is known as "the general of weapons", due to the fact its usually used for chopping and slashing and had a pretty fierce offensive style.

anyway, i find it interesting that hua cheng chose to forge a sabre rather than a sword.

but being a long-time sword enthusiast, i had to write a fic exploring a little into why hc would choose to wield a sabre.

[andrea-lyn]

Avatar the Last Airbender - Master Fic Rec Post

See under the cut for forty-two total recs, predominantly Zukka.

Wooing the Water Tribe by lenaballena (ALL TIME FAVE RIGHT HERE)

Zuko is courting Katara, and with every passing day finds new and insane ways of showing that he would quite literally move the spirit world and earth to make her happy.

In hindsight, it probably would've been better if Sokka had realised he was in love with Zuko at literally any time before this. Or preferably, never fallen for his best friend in the first place.

exothermic reaction by blueconsequences

When Sokka is temporarily blinded by Fire Nation soldiers, the members of the Gaang take turns to care for him.

One pair of hands is warmer than the others.

Love's Such an Old-Fashioned Word by drvcos

When invited to the 100th anniversary of his father’s company, after 15 years of radio silence, Zuko decides to show how happy he is to all the people from his past. There’s only one (fatal) problem.

Or,

Zuko is a frazzled single dad, Sokka is an absolute flirt, and the “fake” that comes before their relationship doesn’t feel all that fake.

like real people do by verdanthoney for bleekay

Sokka knew he would be dealing with a raging case of baby fever during their annual vacation on Ember Island. What he didn’t expect was to discover that he was also hopelessly in love with Zuko, and had been for years without realizing.

Spirits Help Us, There's Two of Them by hopepunk

Sokka and Zuko are both weird guys. Fortunately, they're the same kind of weird as each other.

(do you take this jerk to be) your one and only by jatersade

Under the leadership of Fire Lord Iroh, the Fire Nation has made every attempt to restore peace and make amends for the harm they inflicted during the Seventy-Year War. Their newest proposal is a literal proposal: a marriage to unite the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes.

The Fire Nation offers Prince Zuko’s hand.

The Water Tribes offer Princess Yue’s.

Sokka is apparently the only person in the world who has a problem with any of this.

isn't this the vision that you wanted by nebulastucky

Firelord Zuko - ender of the Hundred Year War, ruler of the Fire Nation, payer of respects and reparations - takes advice and counsel from representatives of every nation, division, and specialty.

But teenage boy Zuko - friend of turtleducks, wielder of fun looking swords, stumbler over words and feet in the presence of cute boys - only listens to two people, and they are conspiring together to ruin him.

or: Iroh just wants what's best for his nephew, and Katara just wants to know everyone's business.

we had a moment, we had a summertime by nebulastucky

Sokka shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You get captured and killed by the Fire Nation,” Toph provides.

“They won’t execute me in a tea shop,” Sokka says around a sudden lump in his throat. “That’d be bad for business.”

or: the one where sokka falls for a tea shop and a boy with too much charm for his own good.

Ignition Point by Yuu_chi

Most people know they're a bender since birth. Sokka just had to discover it at twenty when he accidentally burns his own house down.

Alchemy by mindbending

Sokka (a.k.a the Silent Knight, a.k.a. the sharpest detective in Caldera City) has three cases weighing on his mind.

1.) Zuko, son of the mob boss Ozai, has gone missing under sinister circumstances. 2.) Lee, a teahouse waiter with the face of an angel, wears a scar of mysterious origins. 3.) The Blue Spirit, a lithe and enigmatic cat burglar, keeps stealing into the Fire Nation’s storehouses (not to mention Sokka’s dreams).

Sokka sighs and takes a swig from his special bottle. It’s hard solving three completely unrelated mysteries at the same time...

i wanna be still with you by tristanyvaine

Handwritten letters sent back and forth do not a love story make. Or. Maybe they do, in the case of a certain Fire Lord and Water Tribe warrior who happen to fall in love over sending letters to each other at least.

keeps me up late at night by midnights

Fifteen years since the war had ended, and still Zuko remembered every step of the way as if it were yesterday. More than anything, he remembered Sokka. He'd been in love with him then, and he still was.

ft. ambassador sokka, fancy parties, pining zuko, and two oblivious fools

the brightest you've ever been by panthalassas

Azula folds herself into the lotus position and empties her mind. Then Yue places her hands on either side of Azula's face, and her mind fills back up again. Or: Yue notices Azula is lonely. Turns out, Azula's ready to feel some emotions.

real love baby by verdanthoney

Five times Zuko and Sokka pretend they aren't in love, and one time they don't.

OR,

Sokka initiates a friends with benefits relationship between them, and Zuko keeps coming back for more.

Seasons in the Sun by burkesl17

Ambassador Sokka's first year in the Fire Nation, a story for each of its seasons. With thunder, assassins, blossoms, poison, politics, volcanoes and a baby dragon. Also falling in love.

Or: four parties, four assassination attempts.

Please Return if Found by CSHfic, VSfic

When Sokka sees a “lost pet” poster near his apartment for an actual, literal dragon, he thinks it’s a joke.

Right up until he finds the dragon sitting on his couch.

Nobility by hikuni

Book 3. Sokka/Zuko. Set after The Boiling Rock Pt. 2, Sokka and Zuko explore the Western Air Temple, where Sokka tries to get Zuko to talk about girls, marriage, and maybe even a future for the two of them.

Worship the Ashes by meregalaxiesandgods, patentpending

All Azula wants is for things to go back to the way they were – her father on the precipice of conquering the world, her own position secure at his right hand. Now, the only secure thing is her, trapped in a gilded cage in her brother's new Fire Nation. Lonely and adrift, Azula would do anything to make it end, until an unexpected connection rekindles a light she long-thought had burned to ashes. But falling for Suki isn't something Azula can let herself do, especially with the world as they know it threatening to crumble around them.

Or: Azula goes to therapy, has an identity crisis, stops actively trying to kill her brother, makes a few friends, and falls in love along the way.

No Quiet Life by JustGettingBy

Zuko's not sure when it started. It would be easy to say it started with Boiling Rock, or with the Western Air Temple. But whenever it started, his crush isn’t about to go away anytime soon.

*

“It’s not too late, ‘Lee’. We could steal a boat. Sail across the high seas until we hit the horizon. Spend the rest of our days living off the land.” He brandishes his arm as if to show Zuko the untapped potential of their future as wild hunters.

“No, Sokka.”

Sokka shrugs. “Well, it was worth a shot. When you’re up to your eyeballs in expense reports, don’t say I didn’t ask.”

Zuko’s mouth feels very dry. “I won’t.”

virtues uncounted by bloobeary

fire lord zuko visits the southern water tribe eight years after the war ends

based on that text post

Will We Last the Night by CSHfic, VSfic (My absolute fave of the canon rewrites for its wildly IC enemies-to-lovers feel)!

Chief Arnook never assigns Sokka to protect Princess Yue, so he goes to fight the Fire Nation with the other men. When the moon dies, and the ocean spirit takes its revenge, Sokka is caught standing on the deck of a Fire Nation ship. Sokka should have drowned… and he would have drowned, if not for a certain Fire Nation raft fleeing the North Pole.

[An enemies-to-lovers season 2 rewrite, where Sokka is separated from the gaang during the Siege of the North, and travels the Earth Kingdom with Zuko instead].

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

Relief Next to Me by wilteddaisy (taotu)

Sokka thinks Ozai’s beach house is pretty awesome. Slightly less awesome is the couch he has to sleep on, as is accidentally getting into Zuko’s bed. At first, that is.

noble blood by lupus (khaleeseas)

The Southern Water Tribe was no place for a firebender...or even a Fire Prince for that matter. And yet here Zuko was, not only in the South Pole’s capital itself but in the Royal Palace, protecting the tribe’s Chief after a failed assassination attempt. Chief Sokka, his old friend and a man who was intelligent and witty, yet kind of a dumbass. A man who was brave and strong and kind. A man who Zuko was utterly failing not to develop...personal feelings for. __

aka: a kind of roleswap AU with Southern Water Tribe Chief Sokka and bodyguard/mercenary Zuko.

it's more about the things that you take with by winterfire22

it’s been a few years since zuko took the throne, and he's doing his best. but there are some things missing.

enter his new ambassador program, and an opportunity to reconnect with an old friend.

before we jump ship, let me teach you how to stay afloat by eurydicees

He doesn't remember when his feelings changed, just that, somewhere between the fires of his homeland and the ocean of Sokka's pirate ship, he fell in love.

In which Zuko learns to swim, Sokka falls in love, and the sun and ocean remain as steady as ever.

in silence; ripen, fall and cease by aiyah

Zuko reaches out with trembling hands and tucks it behind Sokka’s ear.

“A pretty flower for a pretty boy,” he whispers.

- - -

[or: this is the story of an ikebana artist and the man who visits him.]

zing by meteor-sword (vaenire)

“I’ll just put away the rest of the treats for them. Toph, hold this will you?” He hefts Zuko’s bag over to her before Toph can protest, and she has a mind to drop the bag at her feet before she feels something interesting inside the bag. As her seismic sense ran passively through the bag, she sensed something small; it was heavier than the parchment but lighter than the bag of coins-- giving a feedback of vibration somewhere between glass and limestone.

//

Like usual, Toph sees this coming when no one else does.

gold in the air of summer by leopardfringe

Sometimes, Toph likes to ask about colors. Not often—people generally aren't great at explaining them to her, but her newfound metalbending abilities have left her curious.

(This, of course, has nothing at all to do with how she doesn’t even need her feet to know who's crushing on who in this group. Nope, this is just purely for research, and definitely not because she's sick of them dragging their feet.)

the stars go waltzing out in blue and red by tristanyvaine

Zuko falls in love with Sokka in the Southern Water Tribe. Sokka falls in love with Zuko in the Fire Nation. It spirals from there.

or: (Zuko thinks a lot about blue, words, love, and Sokka // Sokka thinks a lot about red, touch, love, and Zuko)

To Be Named, To Be Known (To Be Loved) by Erisenyo

Zuko needs tomorrow to be perfect, but when one person is so many things to so many people--My Lord, Fire Lord, Nephew, Zuzu, Sifu Hotman--how is he going to find the time to make sure everything goes exactly right?

Or,

Five titles Zuko has earned himself + One more to add to the list. If he can just get through this Very Important International Celebration first...

this ultraviolet morning light by GallifreyanFairytale

“Sokka?” Zuko’s voice is quiet and raspy as he shifts just enough that Sokka lifts his head up from Zuko’s shoulder. The confession Sokka had ready to go dies on his lips at Zuko’s expression - at the red he can just barely make out in Zuko’s eyes. “Sokka, I… need to tell you something.”

Sokka swallows and nods silently, not trusting his own admission to not slip out if he dares to open his mouth. Zuko must be confessing the same thing Sokka wants to. Which, admittedly, Sokka hadn’t actually planned for, but it’s fine. He can adapt to this. He just needs to shift a few words around in his brain, and--

“You’re my best friend, you know that right?”

And why does Zuko’s tone make this sound like a break up?

OR

sokka and zuko break up, make up, go undercover, thwart a rebellion, watch the sunrise, and change the course of fire nation history. not necessarily in that order.

the stars sighed in unison by spellboundrose

For some reason, Zuko can't stop looking at Sokka out of the corner of his eye. It must be something about the way the moonlight reflects off his skin—or maybe how his eyes, such a vibrant shade of blue, glimmer like the stars above them—

Oh.

Oh, no.

(Or, five moments under the night sky and one beneath the sun.)

everything and nothing at once by tristanyvaine

See, everything would be fine if Sokka was here, because if Sokka was here then Zuko wouldn't be thinking about him over and over and over again while he misses him from the stupid ponytail to his weird Water Tribe shoes.

signs of light by beachytablecloth

And now, out of breath from running, Sokka can feel the anxiety beginning to overwhelm him, stitching his sides and pounding in his ears.

“It’s Zuko,” he finally gets out, panting. “He’s missing.”

or,

Zuko gets kidnapped; Sokka falls apart.

A Predictable Story by mindbending

"On this night, you shall share a kiss with a great love of your life!”

That lying, scummy Aunt Wu predicts a grand romance for Sokka. To disprove her "fortunetelling" once and for all, Sokka decides to spend the night with least romantic person he knows.

Zuko.

Boomerangs and Rainbows by mindbending

At Sokka’s behest, the Gaang skips rescuing Zuko during the Siege at the North Pole. Instead they leave him, unconscious, buried in the snow.

In completely unrelated news, Sokka’s haunted by a ghost now.

little taste of heaven by loserlesbian

"His mom had given him a diary.

No, not a diary–– a journal, she had specified. He knows it’s a diary. Zuko thinks she only called it a journal because she thought that Zuko wouldn’t use it if she said otherwise. A diary is for feelings and angst, but a journal was for working through your problems without all that mushy, gushy stuff. It was for writing out simply what was in your head, nothing more, nothing less."

or, zuko through the years, struggling with himself and his sexuality.

i'll tell you the truth (but never goodbye) by lesmiserablol

“I was ready to fight for us. I was ready to find a way, any way for us to work. And you were the one who ran away when it got too hard!” “That’s not what happened and you know it!” Sokka snaps. “It was never going to work, and it was stupid to keep pretending otherwise! I’m sorry Zuko, I am, but just because you are the Fire Lord, just because we– we were in love, everything wasn’t going to magically fall into place.” Zuko still has a stubborn expression on his face. There are angry tears in his eyes when he says, “We could’ve figured it out. We could’ve…been us. We could’ve had a good life together.” “Yeah, well, I guess we won’t ever know.” (or, the twenty years between Zuko and Sokka breaking up and finally getting together again, shown in 5 times they don’t say goodbye, +1 time they don’t have to)

boy problems by burnt_oranges

“I accidentally signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka,” Zuko says faintly. He sits up so fast he almost falls out of his chair. “I signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka, and he agreed." In which Zuko suffers in a variety of ways, including but not limited to: close and constant proximity to the object of his affections, assassination attempts, and irreparable injuries to his dignity.

Yesterday is Ashes by alivingfire

Sokka takes a strategic step back, but he also smiles: triumphant, like he baited Zuko into exactly what he wanted. Like it’s a challenge. It’s the same way he looked when they sized each other up at the prison, with Sokka in chains that left red marks around his wrist, in tattered prison garb, malnourished and angry. Back then, that was Sokka saying: I see your power. I see you. Now, see me. Zuko saw him then. And he sees him now; different, but the same. I see you. Zuko lights his daos in flame. Sokka grins, back to gravel and heat. “Come on, Fire Lord. Impress me.”Zuko burns. His vision flickers with fire. His heart races. His blood sings. His body is like a magnet, pulling ever onward to meet Sokka’s. He advances.He pins Sokka to the wall, blades against his throat. Or, Zuko found Aang first, Sokka and Katara were imprisoned in Boiling Rock for trying to rescue their dad, and all Sokka knows is he's pretty sure he's not supposed to think the Fire Lord is attractive but he's never let things like rules stop him before.

in flammam flammas【火上澆火】 by ranilla_bean

Zuko scoffed. “As always, I am the author of my own unhappiness.”Sokka hummed. “Years ago, when it was just us travelling together, we came across this fortune teller. I didn’t believe any of that mumbo-jumbo. But then she said that my life would be full of struggle and anguish, most of it self-inflicted.”It suited Zuko’s life extraordinarily well, he felt. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m the only person in the Fire Nation who has a vision of what it takes for this country to get better.”Sokka turned to face him, but Zuko looked resolutely forwards. “That can’t be true.”

Zuko turns twenty-five. In spite of his best efforts, the Fire Nation seems to lurch from crisis to crisis. The firebenders have lost their flame, and the situation with the former colonies is only worsening. All the while, he's ill, lonely, and consumed by work. And on the other side of the country, Sokka has just moved in with one Master Piandao.

[princesssarisa]

With regards to Disney's Sleeping Beauty (1959), I've heard it being referred to as their (inadvertently) most Feminist Movie made to date. And to be perfectly honest, I can see why. From Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather being effectively the leading protagonists, Aurora's Mother being a Good Queen (a real rarity there), and the three Good Fairies providing Philip with the means to kill Maleficent. But what are your thoughts on these points?

I agree wholeheartedly! Except maybe with the "most feminist movie to date" claim – that's subjective. But Sleeping Beauty is a female-dominated movie with some of Disney's best female characters.

Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather really are the protagonists, and excellent ones. Just because they're fairies and because Aurora is the title character, Disney got away with doing something in 1959 that would be considered "daring" today: making a movie with three plain-looking, unmarried older women as the protagonists, whose central relationships are with each other and with their foster daughter. Each has her own distinct, endearing personality, and despite Flora and Merryweather's comic bickering, it's clear that all three love each other, and that they adore Aurora. They're allowed to be funny and fallible and make big mistakes (those shouldn't be just the privilege of male protagonists, after all), but they redeem themselves gloriously at the climax. They risk their own safety by infiltrating Maleficent's lair to free Phillip, and not only do they provide him with the weapons to kill Maleficent, they thwart all the dangers Maleficent's goons throw at Philip, they free him from the thorns around the castle, and just when all seems lost for Phillip in the battle with dragon-Maleficent, they enchant the sword they gave him to make it fly into Maleficent's heart. Even though Phillip's kiss breaks the spell, it's just as much the fairies' victory as his.

The worst aspect of the 2014 Maleficent is that the fairies are reduced to hopelessly incompetent, annoying ditzes, who constantly squabble and catfight with each other and who seem to view Aurora as a burden. Obviously, this was done so Maleficent could take their place as Aurora's mother figure, leading to to the "progressive" twist ending where Maleficent and Aurora's platonic love for each other saves the day instead of a boy/girl romance. But the original film never devalues platonic bonds between women! The fairies' motherly love for Aurora is every bit as important as Phillip's romantic love. I'm glad that at least Maleficent changes their names to Knotgrass, Flittle, and Thistlewit, so we can think of them as separate characters from Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather.

As for Queen Leah, I wish she had more than just two lines, but it is nice to see a good queen in a genre where queens are often evil, and a Disney Princess's mother who's still alive at the end. It's too bad that Maleficent kills her off.

Then there's the underrated Aurora herself. Anyone who claims she has "no personality" is talking nonsense. She's sweet and romantic like any fairy tale princess, yes, but she's also lively, clever, playful, imaginative, and has an air of queenly dignity, even as a peasant girl. Her role is just too small. But even this isn't too much of a problem, because she's not really the protagonist, the three good fairies are.

Disney's Sleeping Beauty deserves a better reputation than it has among feminists for sure!

[dragonsbone]

I humbly ask to be told everything about Alynne!! Her family, her story, her relationship with Jon, anything you wanna say, please tell me!! 🖤🖤🖤

hi, my love !! i apologize for such a late reply bb i’m doing my best to catch up on my inbox. she’s still a work-in-progress with her storyline as there are many gaps to be filled, but i’ll ramble on with what i definitely know !! so she is stannis baratheon’s firstborn to his first wife, who is an oc, ellyn dondarrion. originally, i wasn’t gonna have aly have a different mother, but it actually ended up making a lot more sense to aly’s personality and upbringing rather than having selyse as her biological mother. she was born on blackhaven during robert’s rebellion, but spent most of her youth at dragonstone. when she was eight, she was sent to be fostered in winterfell under the care of house stark and was to be taught the proper ways of being a lady ( per selyse’s request ).

aly is a lady, but she was also born with the heart of a stag and a mind made of lightning. yes, she likes to wear pretty, velvet dresses and have winter roses in her hair, but she also enjoys swinging a sword and shooting arrows with her bow. aly likes the finer things in life while simultaneously likes to get her hands dirty and not act so proper all the time.

she gets along with the starks very well for the most part !! mainly, the boys plus arya. she, sansa, and catelyn get along as well ( bc in this house, women support women ) but definitely not as much as she does with the rest. but her and jon are definitely very close if u know what i mean 👀.

they were each other’s first love, and sadly, it takes many years for them to ever become more than two people who are hopelessly in love with each other, but can never do anything about it. however, they need to go through their own separate paths for them to eventually follow the same one. it’s for the best for each of their own character arcs, but yea it takes a long time unfortunately.

again, i still have much to figure out in terms of plotting because there is so much i have yet to explore within my own ideas so a lot is subjective to change in the future. but these are the main ideas that i know are for sure staying ( unless ofc i change my mind lol ). but yea i hope u like aly and are excited to see what’s to come !!

[delirious-dove]

dove’s 2022 fics - year in review

i posted a lot this year, right up until the last minute! here are the fics i wrote in ‘22! (note: i’m only including fics that i began posting in 2022, so multichapters that started in ‘21 and finished in ‘22 aren’t on this list. some fics are currently ongoing)

folie à deux

Persona 5 - akeshu

You take the boy you’re going to kill to the jazz club one last time.

take me out

Genshin Impact - albether

As tensions run high on Venti's Inazuma concert tour, Aether crushes hopelessly (and obliviously) on Albedo. Midquel for "if these wings could fly"

a splinter of glass

Genshin Impact - albether

Aether, a fallen star looking for his lost sister, awakens a sleeper in a frozen ruin.

i can count on you to show me the way

Genshin Impact - xingyun

Xingqiu experiences the highs and lows of late-teenage romance. Midquel for "if these wings could fly" xingyun/chongqiu edition

a sword for a sword

Genshin Impact - albether

Albedo forges the Cinnabar Spindle.

shining armor

Code Geass - suzalulu, suzaku/euphemia

Suzaku Kururugi, through the eyes of those who love him.

desperate measures

Genshin Impact - tartali

Ajax's assignment is simple: get close to the CEO of Rex Lapis, then kill him when the time is right. That's easier said than done, though. Ajax knows it's going to take all of his wit and charm (don't laugh) to reach the reclusive mogul. Luckily, the job comes with a few perks. For one, Zhongli is irresistably hot. He's also just as sharp as he looks, which makes for an especially exciting challenge. Sleeping with your target is a dangerous game, and the longer Ajax plays it, the higher the stakes. As it turns out, both he and Zhongli have more to lose than their lives.

feel my breath on your neck

Genshin Impact - xingyun

Chongyun and Xingqiu have been friends for eight years. They know everything there is to know about each other, except for two very important facts: Xingqiu is a vampire, and Chongyun is a vampire hunter. When the truth comes out, will their friendship survive?

and last but not least, squeaking under the door with just a few hours of 2022 left...

real love

Genshin Impact - albether

Stuck with the wedding beat but denied a press invitation, Aether agrees to be Albedo's date to Beidou and Ningguang's wedding. Meanwhile, Albedo plans his own big break--getting Aether to fall in love with him for real.

[vintagegeekculture]

The Chinese Cultural Inspirations for Dragon Ball Z and Super

Journey to the West was only the beginning. 

A lot of people are vaguely aware that Dragon Ball was inspired by Chinese culture and Hong Kong Kung Fu movies and novels, but are unaware of how deep and long lasting it goes. The Japanese spent the 1980s fascinated by China, which opened up from being a closed society for decades in 1978; the most famous human being in Japan in the 80s was either Michael Jackson or Jackie Chan. 

In fact, a lot of people commonly believe that the Chinese action movie and Kung Fu novel cultural and media influence on Dragon Ball ended very early on. This is untrue. Sure, we started to see qipaos and cheongsams less frequently when they headed to West City, but it absolutely did not finish, because there’s tons of influence to see even as impossibly late as Dragon Ball Super. Interestingly, I don’t think any of these point of inspirations have been pointed out before, mainly because a lot of Chinese adventure novels are simply not available in English. 

 The Piccolo/Gohan plot was inspired by the Chinese action novel “Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre.”

Okay, tell me if you’ve heard this story before: a truly demonic, weird looking monster villain is defeated by a martial arts hero, but by circumstance, is forced into training his greatest enemy’s young son. The villain trains the young boy, the son of his enemy, in martial arts and over time, becomes like a second father or uncle to him and his family, putting the boy in his “evil” sect, and thanks to his love of his rival’s son, this baddie turns over a new leaf and goes from evil to just…grumpy, and becomes a loyal, though gruff, ally of the boy.

Of course, the events of Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre are a bit different from Dragon Ball in details. The Lion King becomes Wuji’s teacher because they are both stranded together on an island after a shipwreck, for instance, and he is blinded and made vulnerable. Also, the Lion King wasn’t so much evil so much as he was misunderstood by the orthodox martial world. However, in broad outlines, this trajectory for a face turn (becomes friends with his greatest enemy’s son, and becomes like a second father to him as he trains him, causing the villain to become a gruff good guy and ally) is essentially from one of the most famous Chinese novels ever written in the 1960s. 

Oh, and while we’re at it, Gohan is likewise inspired by another character from a Louis Cha novel: the Prince of Dali Duan Yu in the Kung Fu novel Demigods and Semi-Devils. The Prince in that novel is a naïve, pacifistic scholar who prefers books to fighting, and who was raised to be timid and avoid combat, absolutely out of step with his family, all of whom are martial artists and warriors. In fact, the beginning of the story is the prince gets incredibly lost in the wilderness, where the hopelessly naïve prince is utterly out of his depth, with all the robbers and scary beasts, and needs to be saved by real martial artists that protect him like fairy godparents. He spends the first part of the story running away from everything, scared as hell. However, by circumstance, he has naturally high power he cannot fully initially control, and eventually realizes that even scholars and others who hate fighting have to sometimes become fighters to protect those they love.

The Duan Yu part of Demigods and Semi-Devils was made into a film, the Battle Wizard, which was reviewed by PewDiePie. The Dragonball similarities went over his head because, honestly, PewDiePie does not strike me as a perceptive person. 

 Hit was based on the screen persona of Chow Yun Fat.

Chow Yun Fat was a Hong Kong cinema superstar who was to director John Woo what Robert de Niro was to Martin Scorsese. There are three giveaways that Hit was based on Chow Yun Fat. One, he’s an assassin, same as Chow Yun Fat’s character in the Killer, and is even given a sequence that’s a John Woo homage with an assassination in an office building with guns pulled on an empty elevator in an act of misdirection. Second, he’s wearing the single piece of clothing Chow Yun Fat is associated with, a black trenchcoat (fun fact: in Hong Kong today, trenchcoats are called Brother Mark Coats, after Chow Yun Fat’s character in John Woo’s A Better Tomorrow). Third, his power is essentially bullet time, a visual technique refined by John Woo in Hong Kong in the 80s and 90s in his gunplay triad movies starring Chow Yun Fat (what, you think the Wachowskis invented it?).

 The Goku/Vegeta relationship is from “Legend of the Condor Heroes.”

Here’s a story you might have heard before. It’s about two rivals, but by circumstance, one is raised in the wilderness beyond civilization, where he becomes an honest and goodhearted, though overly naive bumpkin, martial arts prodigy. The other is raised a wealthy prince by a conquering enemy, who grows up to also become an armor wearing martial arts expert, but also a cunning, arrogant, emotionally distant sociopath.

The similarities go into their love lives, too. The unsophisticated bumpkin hero is betrothed to a daughter of a powerful bearded barbarian king against his will, while the one hint of vulnerability and loss of emotional detachment in the otherwise sociopathic prince, the crack in his smirky arrogance, is that he loves a girl he otherwise pretends to hate, and even fathers a child with her who becomes a main character later.

This is Guo Jing and Yang Kang from Legend of the Condor Heroes. The most fascinating similarity, and proof that female psychology is the same all over the world, is that the fangirls love the emotionally distant, arrogant, and sexy/evil prince (remember when Rhonda Rousey said her first crush was Vegeta?). Girls everywhere love bad boys and sexy villains, and oh boy, do they love Prince Yang Kang. I think you can probably guess who all the fan art is about for Legend of the Condor Heroes, and what ship is the most popular.

I have to emphasize that Legend of the Condor Heroes, which came out in the 1950s-60s, is possibly the most widely read novel by the most widely read novelist on earth - the sales on that dwarf Twilight and Harry Potter. It’s probably not an exaggeration to say nearly every Chinese person, even if they never read it, knows who these characters are. In fact, Yang Kang and Guo Jing from Condor Heroes are basically repeated over and over in Asian, Chinese, and Japanese culture. Does the unsophisticated but gifted martial arts prodigy bumpkin hero, and the glib, arrogant wealthy prince rival remind you of….another duo of rivals?

Gohan/Videl comes from Little Dragon Maiden

One of the most important and influential Martial Arts novels of all time is “Return of the Condor Heroes.” A sequel to Condor Heroes, this time, the main character is the teenage son of one of the main characters from the first novel. It gets even more familiar from there.

“Return of the Condor Heroes” was about a martial arts couple who are also master and student, the same age but vastly different in experience and skill so one somehow seems “older,” and they fall in love because the circumstances of training together requires they spend lots of time together and become intimate. The training story and the love story are exactly the same in “Return of the Condor Heroes.” The dead giveaway one story inspired the other is that in both, the most significant training sequence is one where the master teaches the student how to fly (though Return used a chamber of sparrows for lightness Kung Fu).

There are some differences of course – obviously in Return of the Condor Heroes, the genders of teacher and student are flipped from Gohan and Videl (it’s the Little Dragon Maiden who is a powerful teacher, and the boy who is the student). It was the girl (Videl) who was a rebellious delinquent in Dragon Ball Z, when it was the opposite in the novel, true. But it was obvious this story was in the back of the creator’s mind as a way to combine Kung Fu with the love story, by making teacher and student lovers.

Addendum: hey, remember that awesome movie Kung Fu Hustle, the one Hong Kong movies normies have seen? Well, remember the landlord and landlady? The landlady was named Xiao Lung Nu, or Little Dragon Maiden, and her husband was named Yang Guo – the same as the main characters in Return of the Condor Heroes. It was a joke that went over the heads of Westerners, by giving these names of attractive and naïve young people in love with each other to a surly, bitter, arguing and chain smoking middle aged couple who don’t give a damn.

 Going Super Saiyan comes from “Reincarnated” aka “Bastard Swordsman.”

Stop me if this sounds familiar: a terrifying warlord tyrant prone to killing underlings who displease him has achieved a level of skill and cultivation so tremendous nobody can stop him. But there is one, and only one, thing he fears and that can defeat him: a long-lost legendary skill that nobody has achieved in recent memory, that includes a supernatural combat power transformation that turns the hair light to indicate it worked.

This is “Silkworm Skill” from Reincarnated aka Bastard Swordsman, a novel and TV series from Hong Kong in the early 1980s. Of course, there are differences. To get the power boost and new hair color, the hero has to jump in a cocoon he weaves himself. In fact, the scene is so well known that they actually have it on the poster.

(To those saying “Super Saiyan turns your hair blonde, not white” my response is that it turns hair white, or uncolored, in the comic book.)

The idea of your hair turning white to indicate a new supernatural combat transformation or martial state wasn’t created by Bastard Swordsman, though – though it is the best example and probably the one most familiar to a 1980s audience due to the hugely popular books and TV series. For an older example, a famous Chinese movie based on a folktale is “Bride With the White Hair,” about a bride who’s hair turns white when she is betrayed, in her anger, she becomes less a woman and more a supernatural creature of vengeance (interesting that anger should be the means to unlock it).

[robininthelabyrinth]

Sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moments of physical contact can occasionally forge long-term telepathic bonds between cultivators. These bonds are usually based on positive emotions like familial or romantic love, or deep feelings of friendship, but the emotions don’t necessarily have to be positive to forge a bond. Wei Wuxian is very upset to find out that punching Jin Zixuan in the face apparently counts as a sufficiently strong emotionally-charged moment of physical contact.

on ao3

Wei Wuxian had been obsessed with the idea of a resonant bond ever since he first learned about it.

Sure, it was a rarity. It was easier for a cultivator to find a friend, a lover, or even a soulmate than it was for them to create a resonant bond, which required not merely liking or understanding or even love but rather a single moment in time in which two cultivators were on exactly the same wavelength.

Their cultivation strength, their frame of mind, the state of their bodies, the exact way in which they touched – in that one moment, everything would be exactly the same, and the Heavens would forget for that brief moment to see the two as separate, like two separate raindrops merging into one before the moment passed, some difference introduced, and they were broken apart into separate beings again. Yet even after they separated, they would irrevocably retain some aspects of the other, a connection that generally manifested, it was said, as a mental bond that could not be broken, a tie that would keep them bound together no matter the distance.

Such a thing could not be worked towards, only hoped for; it was a matter of luck.

Wei Wuxian had never wanted anything more in his life.

The thought of never being alone again – it enticed him, it excited him. Jiang Cheng could wrinkle his nose in distaste at the idea that he might not be alone in his mind anymore, that someone would see all the stupid or terrible things he sometimes thought, but to Wei Wuxian that was the best part: that someone would see you and know you and you would see and know them, too. To have someone to accompany you through the best and worst moments of your life, always at your side…

To never fear abandonment, to never need to worry about someone going out only for a little and then never coming back.

It would be amazing.

That was what Wei Wuxian thought.

Well, that was what he thought right up until he punched Jin Zixuan in the face for insulting his shijie, his whole heart burning at the unfairness of adults who didn’t understand, at other boys who didn’t appreciate what they had, at everything all around them and at his own weakness in not being able to do more, and something just –

Clicked.

-

“Hey, wake up! Wake up! Are you all right?”

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, only to be assaulted with what felt like double vision. Above him were Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, hovering and looking anxious, and from the corner of his eye he could see Lan Wangji, who he so enjoyed teasing, was sweeping over to them with a grim expression – and yet at the same time he thought he could perceive different faces above him as well.

Three young men and two women, all looking down at him with smiles like sharks, ready to devour. Each one of them draped in the gold they lusted to take from his hands –

What the fuck? Wei Wuxian thought groggily. How did I end up on the ground?

Good question. I didn’t think I got punched that hard.

Wait, Wei Wuxian thought. Hold up, I got punched? I didn’t even see the peacock lift his fists!

…Wei Wuxian? Is that – you?

Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide when he realized he hadn’t said any of that out loud, that to judge from Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s chatter they hadn’t heard either him nor the other voice. Which meant that the voice had to be...in his head. Is this – this is a resonant bond. We formed a resonant bond!

Shit, Jin Zixuan thought, because it was Jin Zixuan, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t say anything about this to anyone!

What? Why?

Please!

Wei Wuxian hadn’t even known that the peacock knew that word.

Fine, he said, feeling generous on account of the whole bond business. I won’t tell. For now.

“Wei-xiong?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking worriedly fretful. “Are you all right? You haven’t said anything.”

“I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his head and trying to think of a lie to explain why he fell over like that. “I think the peacock must’ve had a talisman or a defensive weapon or something. Whatever it is, I’m fine now.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re all right,” Jiang Cheng said, looking deeply relieved. And then, a moment later – “Because I’m going to kill you - !”

There wasn’t too much time to talk after that. Wei Wuxian was sentenced to kneeling, and then his Uncle Jiang arrived and Sect Leader Jin arrived – oh no, oh no, oh no, I fucked up, Jin Zixuan thought hopelessly, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel a bit of the same – and the next thing Wei Wuxian knew, the engagement between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli was broken and he was being sent to pack up his things, to be taken home at once.

Jin Zixuan was swept away by his father, too.

“A pity about the engagement,” Sect Leader Jin remarked idly as they walked together. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have said such a thing. Your mother will be disappointed.”

Wei Wuxian could feel the way that that jabbed at Jin Zixuan’s heart like a stab with a sword.

“Still, it’s no harm,” the man continued, indifferently ignoring the impact his words had had on his son. “One could even call it a gain! You won’t be burdened down with that shrew’s daughter anymore.”

That what?!

Tune out of this conversation, please, Jin Zixuan said, his thoughts dull and sluggish and resigned. It’s going to get worse from here on out.

It did.

Sect Leader Jin commented at some great length about his views on Madame Yu’s many faults – her temper, her strength, her nosiness, her thought that she was worth anything other than a pair of legs and an inheritance – and contrasted it with some salacious comments on her positive traits – mostly the legs, with a few comments on the upper half as well – and then he started speculating about Jiang Yanli, too, in a way that made Wei Wuxian’s blood boil.

It’s not about her, Jin Zixuan told him, his voice a little desperate in a familiar way – he was used to having to defend his father, and just as obviously didn’t want to. He’s building up a defense.

What?

For my mother. She’ll be angry at him for agreeing to break the engagement, so he’ll say that it was my idea, say all this stuff, and then she’ll be angry at me for believing it, instead, even though I don’t. This isn’t what I wanted at all.

Wei Wuxian frowned. You wanted to marry my shijie? You sure didn’t show it!

No, I just didn’t want to marry anybody, Jin Zixuan said, and…okay, fine, that was a pretty respectable position. Wei Wuxian didn’t particularly want to marry anyone yet, either. I just got angry when everyone was talking about how it was a done deal, that’s all. Just one more thing that got picked for me.

Wei Wuxian had heard Jiang Cheng complain about similar enough things – how much of his life was selected in advance, how much was organized for the benefit of his sect rather than his own interests, how little choice he got. How even if he’d been as good as Wei Wuxian, or even better, he still wouldn’t have been able to go out and hunt pheasants all day the way Wei Wuxian did.

He refused to feel sympathy. Well, you shouldn’t have taken it out on my shijie!

Probably not. Jin Zixuan was silent for a moment. It probably doesn’t help, but I’m sorry for my rudeness.

Wei Wuxian hated it when people were reasonable. It made it so much harder to stay angry at them.

Are you going to tell me why I can’t tell people about this bond yet? he asked. You’d better have a good reason, I had to put up with an entire scolding from Jiang Cheng because I didn’t have a good excuse!

Later tonight. I promise.

That night, Wei Wuxian excused himself early and hid himself in his room on the boat. He knew that he was giving both Uncle Jiang and Jiang Cheng the impression that he was feeling deeply guilty about having broken the engagement, thereby making them feel bad about it, which he didn’t intend, but he really wanted to hear the reason. If it wasn’t good enough, he’d really break Jin Zixuan’s nose this time!

It really is a good reason!

Well, then? If it’s so good, don’t keep me in suspense!

Jin Zixuan sighed. Wei Wuxian felt it like an exhalation on his cheek, as if Jin Zixuan were right there beside him. You know how a resonant bond is supposed to be equal?

What do you mean ‘supposed to be’? Wei Wuxian asked, and felt something cold in his belly.

There are forbidden techniques, ancient ones, that are designed to manipulate a resonant bond into an unequal state. To make one side the master and the other the slave.

That’s disgusting!

If we told anyone, my father would find a way to get one, Jin Zixuan said, and he wasn’t guessing. His voice was utterly certain. There’s very little money can’t buy, and he wouldn’t be able to resist the idea of having a spy in the very heart of the Jiang clan.

Well, then just don’t tell him!

Just like I didn’t tell him about what I said about your shijie?

Wei Wuxian got tripped up by that. It was true, Jin Zixuan hadn’t said a word about what had happened, and yet his father had already known every last detail. How..?

One of my ‘friends’ told him, of course. Probably more than one, actually – I wouldn’t be surprised if they all passed it along. It’s what he pays them for.

He pays for your friends to spy on you?!

I already told you that there’s little money can’t buy. Why not friends?

I wouldn’t be friends with people who accepted money to spy on me. Why do you?

If it’s not this set, it’ll be another, and it’s all the same. If they won’t be bought, then I can’t be friends with them…anyway, I’ve gotten used to these ones.

All of them? Wei Wuxian asked. Even Mianmian? She didn’t seem the type…

Her name is Luo Qingyang, and yes. Her parents are sick and my father’s paying for the treatment; if she doesn’t tell him everything, he’ll cut off funds…she told me about it, though. Said that if there was ever a time that I wanted her to ‘forget’ to report something, she could do that. That’s more than most would do, and probably about as much as anyone can expect –

Have you ever had a friend that wasn’t bought? Wei Wuxian asked. I mean…ever?

Jin Zixuan was silent.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Well, I guess you have me now, Wei Wuxian thought, with only a tiny amount of self-pity for the stupidity of agreeing to be friends with Jin Zixuan. Still, if he’d survived his efforts at being Lan Wangji’s friend, he could survive anything. No one’s going to buy me!

But –

Nope! No take-backs! We have a resonant bond, peacock. You think I’m going to waste a gift from the Heavens like this just because it’s with you? You’ve got another thing coming!

…can you at least stop calling me a peacock?!

-

Madame Yu made her displeasure clear enough when Wei Wuxian returned, ordering him to kneel all night and do every available chore and things like that, but Wei Wuxian didn’t take it to heart – he never did, really.

Like Jiang Cheng, Madame Yu’s bark was worse than her bite: for all that she hissed and spat and punished him with kneeling or holding up weights, she’d never denied him resources, kept him back from training, or even denied him the spot of head disciple to promote another less qualified in his place, which she very well might have if she were a bit pettier.

So he didn’t take it personally, even if Jin Zixuan seemed indignant on his behalf – you were defending her daughter! You’d think she’d give you some leeway for that, at least! – and at any rate it was better than Jin Zixuan’s slow meandering way home, with his father disappearing every night into a brothel or the bedroom of some innkeeper’s daughter or something like that.

It was better than Jin Zixuan’s mother’s reaction, too, which was to scream and shout and say vicious nasty things, to smash plates and vases against the walls right over his head, and then to pull him into her arms and make him promise over and over again that he would never betray her.

I think I suffered more in terms of physical exertion, but you get full points for all the emotional devastation, Wei Wuxian said after Jin Zixuan returned to hide in his bedroom. Does she do that a lot?

All the time, Jin Zixuan said. All the fucking time.

After a moment, he added, guiltily, It’s only that she loves me –

Ugh, don’t even start with that, Wei Wuxian said. Complaining about awful parent-related trauma is boring, I get enough of it from Jiang Cheng. Help me figure out what I should do tomorrow: flying kites, swimming, or hunting pheasants? Oh, or fishing!

…seriously? Do you spend any time cultivating?

Oh, come on. It’s my first day back!

That just means you have more you need to catch up on!

-

Your shijie is really nice.

I told you!

You didn’t! You just hit me!

-

Wei Wuxian loved having a resonant bond.

Sure, it wasn’t with someone useful like Jiang Cheng or even wonderful like Lan Wangji – I can hear you, you know – but it was kind of nice to have someone to complain to when it would be awkward to put it onto Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli.

The other half being Jin Zixuan was also not as bad as he had first thought it would be. Sure, he was just as spoiled, arrogant, vain, and deeply cynical about human nature as Wei Wuxian had thought – I can still hear you! – but he was also an awkward introvert with no social skills and an over-active guilt complex – fuck you too, Wei Wuxian – and, in the sum total of things, surprisingly tolerable. Thanks? I think?

It’d certainly made the indoctrination camp more tolerable, even if it did mean having two people talking in his ear about how he needed to think more about the consequences of his actions and how it might reflect on his sect, and certainly having Jin Zixuan confirming that the other disciples had made it out of the cave and were moving at full speed to try to get help made the days he was waiting with Lan Wangji a lot less stressful, and their ensuing rescue a lot easier.

But sometimes –

This is a terrible idea! You can’t do it!

You don’t get a say! Wei Wuxian snarled. This is my decision.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said. A moment later, quieter: Is this because I couldn’t make it to you in time to help?

Wei Wuxian swallowed, feeling his eyes burn. The Wen attack was a surprise to everyone, he said. Even if you were able to convince your father to let you go help with everyone you had, it wouldn’t – you wouldn’t have made it in time to do anything.

After his father had refused, Jin Zixuan had snuck out of Jinlin Tower through what he’d thought was a secret passage and tried to go anyway, only to be caught and dragged back. Wei Wuxian appreciated the effort, even if it didn’t make a difference in the end.

When they were on the run from the Wen sect, after, Jin Zixuan had encouraged Wei Wuxian to head to Lanling, swearing that he wouldn’t allow anyone to turn them over to the Wen sect, but they hadn’t gotten that far.

And now…

It’s my choice, Wei Wuxian said. You don’t get a say.

Fuck you, Jin Zixuan said again, but his voice was softer. Fine. But I’m here for you.

Wei Wuxian smiled, just a little bit, and told to Wen Qing to start.

-

I’m going to murder my father, Jin Zixuan said, conversationally. And then go to the hell reserved for patricides and be reborn as a chicken right before slaughter.

For shame, Wei Wuxian said. Not even a lamb or a goat?

No, I want to be able to bite someone and mean it, and chickens are better at that than goats.

Wei Wuxian giggled, a little hysterically. It’s fine, he said, looking around the Burial Mounds. It’s fine that he won’t let you come to my rescue immediately. Not like I’m going anywhere.

He’d thought – they’d both thought – that the resonant bond would break or maybe transfer to Jiang Cheng along with Wei Wuxian’s golden core, but it hadn’t.

Wei Wuxian had been depressingly grateful for it, for the by now familiar Lanling cadence of Jin Zixuan in his head. It made the horrible quiet empty of the Burial Mounds a little more tolerable, a little less awful.

Anyway, he said briskly, shaking off his terror at being here alone but for the voice in his head. I have an idea…

-

I feel like if I knew Chifeng-zun looked like that I would’ve made befriending Nie Huaisang more of a priority when I was younger.

I know, right? Wei Wuxian thought back. Just…wow.

A moment later, he added, a little irritably, I thought you were into my shijie again?

I am! I’m allowed to have eyes, okay?

Not if you’re surnamed Jin you aren’t.

Fuck you.

Nope. And Chifeng-zun isn’t going to, either.

He could feel Jin Zixuan rolling his eyes. I don’t even want him to, I was really just looking. Anyway, how’s Lan Wangji doing?

Lan Zhan? He’s – well, he’s always bothering me about going back to Gusu with him, talking about how my demonic cultivation is dangerous to me, but oh, you should have seen him when he joins us to fight..! You can forgive anything, really, just to watch him move – Wei Wuxian paused. Wait, why are you asking?

No reason.

Jin Zixuan! You tell me this instant -

-

Jin Zixuan was locking Wei Wuxian out of his head again.

It was a technique they’d worked on developing together – with some assistance from Wei Wuxian’s brilliance and Jin Zixuan’s ability to find and purchase extremely rare reference texts, whether on resonant bonds or just more generally, including when Wei Wuxian had needed some help figuring out some things about demonic cultivation while trapped on the Burial Mounds – as it had become moderately urgent following Jin Zixuan’s first spring dream involving Jiang Yanli, and even more so once he’d decided that he really did want to marry her, actually, if she’d be willing to have him.

There were some things Wei Wuxian did not need to know about his shijie.

Still, it was unusual for him to block him during the day. One might even call it suspicious.

I’m sorry, Jin Zixuan said abruptly. It had to be done, and you weren’t going to do it.

Huh? What are you talking about…?

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian turned, surprised. His shidi’s eyes were red as if he’d been crying, and he ran up and pulled him into his arms. “Wei Wuxian…!”

“What?” he asked, puzzled. “What’s this about…?”

“How could you?!” Jiang Cheng demanded, weeping into his neck. “You should have told me – you had no right to – to give me – Wei Wuxian!”

Wei Wuxian’s back went stiff. You didn’t!

It was the truth or you getting kicked out of your sect! He needed to know!

Fuck you! It wasn’t your choice to make!

I’m not going to stand by and let you get schemed against, Jin Zixuan said. Certainly not by my own father. I won’t!

I’m going to make you pay for this, Wei Wuxian said darkly, then looked down at Jiang Cheng in his arms. And possibly thank you for it. But I’m definitely going to make you pay!

-

This may sound weird, Jin Zixuan said. But I think I’m being poisoned.

Based on what I know about Lanling Jin sect and its politics, it’s not weird at all, Wei Wuxian said instinctively, then frowned. Are you serious? It’s not just baby fatigue or something?

That’s what I thought at first, too. But now I’m not so sure. He was silent for a moment. I don’t want to sound like my mother, but…

You think it’s Lianfeng-zun? I’m not saying he doesn’t have the most motive for it, but do you really think..? He seems so nice.

He is, most of the time. Jin Zixuan sighed. Maybe I really am just tired.

Wei Wuxian didn’t think so. He’d had a half-dozen years of listening to the backstabbing, vicious world of Jinlin Tower under his belt by now – had fought bitterly in the war only to fight even more bitterly for something like the right to attend his own shijie’s wedding, something that ought to have been his by right – had nearly suffered an ambush when he tried to attend Jin Ling’s first month party, with Jin Zixun attacking him and Wen Ning going unexpectedly crazy and Jin Zixuan rushing over as fast as he could to make them all stop. If he hadn’t already known about Jin Zixuan not knowing about this, if he hadn’t felt something go wrong and thrown himself in between them without thinking, Jin Zixuan might’ve died there and then on the Qiongqi path.

If Jin Zixuan thought he was being poisoned, he was probably being poisoned.

I’ll come visit you and look into it, Wei Wuxian said. We can pretend that I’m there to visit shijie.

They’d long ago confessed the truth to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, of course. For some reason, neither had looked all that surprised.

With your reputation, even if you figured something out, who’d believe you? Jin Zixuan asked. Ask Hanguang-jun if he’ll come, his reputation will bear up.

Lan Zhan? Sure! I’m always happy to work with him. But you know, he’s been ignoring me recently…I don’t know why…

Tell him about the resonant bond.

What? I thought we were still keeping it a secret.

Tell him. He doesn’t tell anyone anything.

Good point, I guess. You think that’ll help him stop ignoring me?

Yes.

Wei Wuxian generally trusted Jin Zixuan’s reading of people, now that he was mature enough not to let his personal feelings cloud his judgment. All right, I will. Can you tell me why?

You’ll find out when you tell him.

Unhelpful.

Noted and ignored.

Fuck you.

Yeah, you too. See you soon.

-

Jin Zixuan?

Yeah?

Thank you for my love life, but also, FUCK YOU.

[jostens-pitch]

thoughts on any way the wind blows !!!

spoilers ahead !! i just wanted to talk about a few of my favorite things about awtwb and my overall thoughts on it since its been a few hours since ive finished it and im ready to chat :)

- i just wanna start off by saying i wasnt the biggest fan of wayward son, and that i had very low expectations for awtwb and essentially was ready to be disappointed all over again. however, im extremely pleased and happy with what awtwb gave us, and i absolutely loved reading it.

- my absolute favorite aspect of awtwb was seeing simon back to his (moderately) happy and carefree self. i think a huge reason why i didnt like wayward son so much was because of how broken simon was in it. i missed his witty remarks, his unintentional charisma, his dad jokes, and the way he was so hopelessly in love with baz. it was so refreshing seeing him back to who he was in carry on, albeit more sad and damaged, because it was like seeing the golden boy begin to shine bright again. it made me very happy <3

- i also loved the banter between simon and baz, which was another huge thing i missed in wayward son. they went on hunting dates while simon nagged baz !!! they fought over tiny things !!! they annoyed each other !!! they were true boyfriends !!! i adored their interactions so much in awtwb and im definitely rereading it purely for their dynamic in it. once again, it was very reminiscent of carry on.

- BAZ AND SIMON FINALLY BEING HAPPY BOYFRIENDS !!! now THIS is what i expected in wayward son. the hand holding, the hugs, the tears, the love declarations. seeing them finally happy together warmed my heart.

- SHEPARD LOVE, MY BELOVED !! i loved EVERYTHING about shepard, from his cursed turned engagement to a demon, to his relationship with penny. their relationship was the SWEETEST thing ever, and i love that shepard took care of penny in his own ways and embraced her chaos rather than finding it annoying (fuck u micah).

- i was scared to see how simon would find out he was lady ruths grandson, but im very happy with how it was revealed. the excalibur sword was BRILLIANT and really sweet and cute. i like how they all kinda went “oh shit” when he picked it up while simon had a freakout thinking he broke something. it was really funny and i think was a smooth transition into how he finds out he still has family.

- lucy flickering the candles fire to tell everyone simons her son :((( that broke me. absolutely broke me. it was so bittersweet and i think is what really completed the entire scene. it was a nice form of closure for them all.

- BAZS RELATIONSHIP WITH DAPHNE !!!!! so happy he cares about her and loves her, and him calling her mum really made me :’)))

- i really vibed with the parallels between baz/lamb and simon/smith. both took them in only to use them, and both simon and baz were vulnerable and desperate for answers. i think it was really interesting to see.

- AGATHA AS A LESBIAN YES WE SAW THIS COMING ! just kinda wish there was more build up BUT i liked her storyline a lot. its cool she becomes the next goatherd.

- speaking of goats: LOVED their role in protecting watford and how they fly. it was so cute and fun and interesting.

- one thing i didnt like was the fact that essentially everything, but shepard, from wayward son was just discarded and unimportant. i feel like there shouldve only been two books, not three. there wasnt a reason for wayward son besides introducing shepard, and while i adore that mans i think its really :/ like what happened to nownext ???? how did NONE of the gang get in trouble for illegally using magic ????

- i also felt like simon couldve resolved his issues in a better way, rather than after a five minute conversation with agatha. while i love how she helps him, i found it odd and too quick of a turn around. he JUST dumped baz yet immediately ran back to him ? i understand to an extent, but still. it seemed really rushed in a way.

[glitteryglitter]

3+5 (Foxface x fem! reader)

𝙰𝙽: This has two endings so you get to choose which one you want! The first one is all angst and pining, the other one is kind of fluffy. I know that I love a cheerful ending, but not everyone does. 

Also, the reader is from district 3. 

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:  slight angst, violence, and death

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Foxface x fem! reader

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3,644

                                                ๑*˚🍓˚*๑

No, no, no. this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't

You stared in horror as your friend and ally, Foxface from district 5 emerged in a horrific outfit on a chariot.

Surprisingly, your feeling of absolute desolation was not from Foxface's outfit or even your own.

Both of which resembled something the Tin Man would wear if he'd donned couture.

Instead, it was a realization.

You would have to kill her.

Allow me to explain why!

You had, like countless others from district 3 in years past had been selected to enter in The Hunger Games and a few days ago, you'd formally met a new friend.

You'd sworn you would have no allies but unfortunately, your friendly personality and cheerful attitude made that a virtually impossible feat.

An extreme problem that as we all know, only results in heartbreak after one's allies are killed.

This certain person, A sly girl from district 5 who was absolutely amazing in every way was someone who you couldn't stop thinking of.

Stealthy, kind, and absolutely, mind-bogglingly good at identifying plants. She was also so smart, with gorgeous amber eyes that always seemed to take your breath away.

Wait-what? Since when did you think about her eyes? You brushed it off.

After all, you had bigger problems and worries.

You smiled placidly and waved to the crowds, all the while stewing over your predicament.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

You looked over your shoulder at Foxface.

"Are you okay?"

You knew she had been nervous about this, you didn't blame her. You were too.

It was incredibly stressful and you had seen what the others could do.

Even you felt like you didn't stand a chance.

she nodded and smiled at you which for some unknown reason caused your heart to flutter.

Waves of worries crashed through your mind.

What would you do if you were the only two who remained? what would you do if she died?

What would you do in general? You knew you couldn't kill, Finch vowed not to, and you knew there were careers trained to do exactly that.

You were reminded of the gravity of the situation as even more tributes joined the parade.

Only one would live.

Your surroundings swirled in front of your eyes.

Your knees felt like jelly, you would have toppled over if it wasn't for your district partner who had grabbed you before you fell.

Y/n are you okay? The rather mousy-looking boy murmured as he firmly held on to your wrist.

"Yes, I'm fine." You smiled appreciatively. You'd be sad to see him go.

Your mind went blank once more as the parade continued.

Finch's mind was still racing though.

Through the next few days, your friendship grew and you became inseparable.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed.

Every time you smiled at her, she felt a warmth in her chest.

She told herself it was the joy of a true friendship.

She wasn't far off.

It was in fact, at lunch, the day before the actual games that she realized what was happening.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

Foxface had just sat down at a table, you flopped down beside her and promptly started crying into your bowl of salad.

As she pulled you into a hallway, the careers looked at one another, sharing the same thought; What was wrong?

Of course, they all knew exactly what was wrong, they were going to be put in a fight to the death the very next day, but no one really felt like saying it.

"Y/n what's wrong? You can tell me anything, I promise."

You sniffed a few times and shook your head. "It's okay, I'm fine. I know I'm probably one of the least prepared people here and I don't stand a chance. I guess I'm just a little bit nervous for tomorrow."

That may have been the biggest understatement of the century.

At the moment, you'd rather eat an entire bag of coffee grounds than go into the games, but unfortunately, it wasn't an option.

"No, y/n, trust me when I say you're prepared. Your odds are fair, you're no career, and you're not great with weapons, I'll be honest, but they're still decent. Your reputation amongst the capitol people is better than ever. That means more sponsors. You will. Be. Okay. I know it."

"But- what about you? I don't know what I'd do if you died, you’re one of the few people that I know I can trust, Finch. I can't have you die. You should be the one who wins. not me."

You replied between sniffles.

It was at that moment that Finch realized something.

As she looked into your puffy, bloodshot eyes she felt the warm feeling in her chest from earlier return.

She had a crush.

Not just a little one either.

A big painful crush that would most likely end in heartbreak, but she didn't care.

She decided then and there to do her best and ensure you won.

"We should wait and see, they might change the rules this year. You never know what they'll throw at us. Perhaps there could be two victors!"

It broke her heart to see the glimmer of hope in your eyes.

She knew it was probably a lie, but if that's what it took to make you content, that's what she would do.

You threw your arms around her "Thank you so much, this means a lot." She awkwardly patted you on the back, not quite used to being hugged, let alone by the very person she was hopelessly crushing on. "Now, let's get back to lunch, ally,"

You linked arms and strolled back into the lunchroom, heads held high, filled with renewed, albeit slightly false hope.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

It was the day of the games. You'd all been placed in your tubes.

Foxface looked over, only to see you positively shaking.

She didn't blame you, half the tributes were.

The countdown began.

You waved and offered her a tentative smile.

Ten seconds to go...

She smiled back.

nine...eight... seven...six...five...She rehearsed the plan in her head.

four...three...two...one...

Chaos ensued.

Foxface bolted. You, in the meantime, de-activated several landmines and pocketed them for future use.

Being from District 3 did have its advantages.

Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all!

You'd spoken too soon.

You were thrown out of your small revere by someone grabbing the collar of your shirt.

You whipped your head around as best you could and caught a glimpse of blond hair.

Cato. Oh no- you attempted to kick him in the shin but missed.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the best plan of action.

He pushed you against a trunk of a tree and held his sword to your throat.

A thin line of blood appeared.

He didn't look to be enjoying himself, but he also didn't look like he had any plans to stop your potential decapitation.

Foxface ran through the mess, tributes were being attacked, running, dying, and just overall not having a great first day.

She saw you and ran, only barely avoiding a landmine.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at Cato.

He turned to meet the piercing gaze of your savior.

If looks could kill...He would have fallen over before you could say "career"

Fortunately, this gave you enough time to wriggle out of his arms and kick him in the knees again.

This time, your foot actually made contact with his knee and he fell.

Foxface grabbed his sword and hit him over the head with the hilt. His eyes closed.

"Is he...you know... dead?" You asked, cautiously poking his head with a stick.

"No, probably just stunned. We can leave him, someone else will find him. Let's go, before he wakes up."

You pulled each other through the explosives.

Finally, after what felt like ages the two of you reached relative safety.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

It was gradually getting darker and you decided you'd be better off sleeping.

You placed some small landmines you'd deactivated earlier in front of the cave to discourage any unfortunate intruders and lay down.

Foxface lay down and passed you a bit of bread from her backpack.

While you ate, the two of you drafted out a plan for the next few days and what it would include.

It was decided that you'd take shifts and alternate between who guarded the cave and who got materials, at night, you'd place a landmine outside so if any unwanted visitors attempted to enter...well..you didn't want to think about that.

Finally, after some time, you felt your eyelids get quite heavy.

You lay down on the cave floor, it wasn't really as bad as you'd thought.

The moss was soft and with Foxface nearby, you felt safe.

She lay down beside you and soon, you had both drifted off to sleep.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

You woke up with a start.

It was still dark outside.

The sun hadn't quite risen yet and the stars were still visible in the sky.

Then you felt an arm wrap around your waist.

Foxface had thrown her arm around you in her sleep.

You felt your face heat up.

She didn't seem like the type to do this and you were sure if she woke up, she surely wouldn't speak to you ever again.

She would be positively fuming...

Voices, barely distinguishable from the birds in the trees were heard in the distance.

"Wazzamatter?" Finch mumbled, still half asleep, blinking sleepily, oblivious to the fact that her arm was still around your waist. 

Your heart melted.

"Nothing, I thought I heard something, but it was just a squirrel."

"We should probably get started, we'll need supplies and it would be better to stay inside during the day. "

You nodded. This would give you time to think about what had happened that morning. 

You carefully extracted yourself from her grasp and prepared for the day ahead 

As Foxface left, you noticed a small package drift from the sky in a parachute.

Your heart leaped. A sponsor! Foxface was right, they would be of use!

Oh, you could just kiss her right now you were so happy!

Wait- what? She's your best friend! What are you thinking Y/n! You don't kiss your best friend.

You opened it to see bandages, alcohol, and a note.

You stared at the note. "For the couple from 3 and 5, stay safe! -a friend in the capitol"

Your eyes went wide.

Did they think that you liked each other?

Was there a possibility that you liked her?

You sat down abruptly as you realized, Yes. Yes you did.

You shook your head. Now was not the time for crushing!

While you cleaned, you thought about the morning.

You were sure it was just a coincidence, it was probably just nothing. But still- what if she felt the same?

You remembered the note and tried to suppressed the small twinge of hope that it provided.

It was probably nothing.

They must just feel sorry for you.

Unrequited love was definitely a tragedy that the capitol would love.

You continued to mull this over until you heard a rustling in the leaves.

You cautiously poked your head out, only to see Foxface looking quite wounded sitting in the cave's entrance.

You immediately rushed to her side.

"I stole some food from the district four boy and he noticed. Stabbed me with his trident. I don't think it's infected yet, but I don't think I can walk normally."

You looked to the side where your package had landed and grabbed a bottle of alcohol.

As Foxface coached you through bandaging her leg, you only felt your feelings towards her grow. it really was remarkable.

You hoped you'd manage to get through the games.

Together.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

As the days progressed, you reached a sort of routine and it became almost second nature.

That was of course until the announcement of a feast was made.

You and Finch had made a plan. She'd get materials, you would make sure everything was clear and distract if necessary.

That's when you heard a rustling in the bushes.

The female tribute from District 12, Katniss was crouched in the shrubbery with an arrow pointed directly at you.

You bolted.

You weren't sure where you'd go but as long as Foxface was okay and you weren't shot, you were pretty sure it was the right place.

You felt an arrow graze your leg and you turned around only to have Katniss smack into you.

You tried your best to reason with her while she pinned you down.

She grabbed an arrow from her quiver that would surely end up in your heart.

At that moment, Foxface ran past, and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Go, I'll be okay!"

She opened her mouth to say something, but you cut her off.

"Please! I promise I'll come back, just get to safety!" you cried, sounding rather choked.

Come on, Y/n you can do this. Almost everyone else has.

"I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to do this," you whispered.

Katniss's eyes went wide as you shakily held a knife to her throat.

You weren't sure how you felt about this.

"Goodbye, Katniss. Sweet dreams." you cooed.

Before you could change your mind, you sliced the knife through her neck, got up, and ran into the woods, still getting used to the feeling of a weapon in your hands.

A cannon could be heard in the distance.

                                                         ๑🍓๑

You sat down heavily in shock. You had just done the unimaginable.

You'd killed a tribute.

Foxface plopped down beside you.

"Did you get her?" she asked, her voice sounding just as exhausted and hollow as the both of you felt.

"Yes, I did."

The reality of what you'd done hit you.

Of course, you'd experienced it, but it was a whole different thing to actually admit it.

To say that you'd killed someone and know that there would be no consequences except the moral ones.

The ones that stayed in your mind and haunted you for years to come.

If they did come that is.

"What happened to the others?"

"They killed each other off." She took a few berries out of the backpack that she'd managed to grab at the feast.

What are those?

She gave you a look. "Take a guess"

Your eyes widened.

                                                   ๑*˚🍓˚*๑

Ending 1 (Angst and death!)

"Foxface, no, please don't do this," you begged

She shook her head. "You heard the rules, y/n there can only be one victor now. It should be you. there's no use pretending like there is another way out for both of us."

She took a handful of berries from her backpack and cradled them in her hands, thinking over her decision.

"But you promised-"

Your words brought her back to the lunch at the training center.

It felt like years ago, but it had only been a few days.

That was when it hit her.

She'd never told you her feelings. The girl she liked- no- loved would never know.

As she thought, a terrible idea came into your mind.

You knew it wouldn't end well but alas, you had been well aware of it from the start.

Finally, you grabbed a handful of berries from Foxface's hand making sure to scatter the rest far away. If one of you had to be a victor, it was going to be her.

You would make sure of it.

“What are you doing Y/n?!” she gasped.

It was too late. You'd already swallowed the berries.

She cradled you in her arms, begging you to stay alive a few moments more.

"Foxface, I wish I told you this earlier, I know you don't feel the same, but at this point, I just need to let you know. You have been a true friend and I couldn't have wished for a better ally. I should have told you this sooner, I love you. With all my heart. I really do and not even death can change that." You rambled. The berries making your mind foggier by the minute.

"Y/n I- I do feel the same. You mean so much to me and if I had only known-"

With that, you kissed her cheek, careful to get none of the night lock near her mouth.

"Goodbye Finch, I love you"

"-If I had known, I would have told you that I loved you too. We would have gone on dates, had a future together, and I know it doesn't seem likely, but we would have made it work, if only-"

her voice trailed off as you went limp in her arms.

A cannon went off.

"if I'd only seen it sooner-" she trailed off quietly.

A loud voice proclaimed Finch of District 5 the winner of the 54th Hunger Games yet she didn’t seem to hear a thing

In fact, she didn't react in the slightest.

Foxface stared at your lifeless body. The color still draining from your cheeks.

Even though you were dead, the night lock berries still staining your lips a deep navy, you had to be the most gorgeous girl she'd ever laid eyes on.

"Goodbye, y/n I love you too," she said, her voice slightly choked with tears she refused to let fall.

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't give the capitol the satisfaction of seeing her distress.

She would later go on to interviews, refusing to say more than a few grief and anger-filled sentences to let the capitol know exactly how she felt about everything.

They had killed her girlfriend and she would make sure they knew what they'd done.

                                                   ๑*˚🍓˚*๑

Ending 2 (less sad! Slight angst and swearing, but no death! )

"Foxface, why are you doing this? I should be the one to go, not you."

"No y/n I can't let you. "

"But Finch-"

"Why y/n? Tell me why you should die. You are brave, sweet, and kind. Hell, you even apologized to Katniss before slitting her throat. I should be the one to die. Not! You!"

She was yelling now, but you needed to argue your case.

You had to stifle a hollow laugh. This was the most comically dark and strange situation imaginable. Arguing with your crush about which one of you should die.

"But why? I know you said that I should stay alive, but you keep forgetting about yourself. You have a family to go home to as well. They love you, they care, and they miss you! Plus, you taught me the bravery that you claim I have!"

"You want to know why y/n? It's because I love you. A lot. If you died, I don't know what I would do. " Foxface clapped a hand over her mouth.

"You love me? Like, love me?" You blinked numbly. 

She sighed. "That sounded awful, I'm sorry for arguing. I know I shouldn't have said it, but you’ve always stayed by my side. You never failed to see my value. You even convinced me that having a 5 in training didn't make me weak."

"It doesn't though!" You remarked.

 "Look at where we are now! The last two tributes. We would be out of this mess too if we just had some way to get out together."

Both of you looked at the ground where the berries lay scattered, looked at each other, and nodded with the same idea in your heads.

Each of you picked up some berries and took a deep breath.

"Foxface, I love you too. I mean it. This is the worst possible situation to ever tell someone this, but it's true."

With that, she kissed you gently. 

"So it's settled then?"

"I think so."

"Goodbye Y/n."

"Goodbye, Foxface."

"Okay Y/n you've got this," You told yourself.

3...

2...

1...

"WAIT STOP!" A loud voice shrieked.

You and Foxface both looked up, the poisonous berries inches away from your mouths

"THERE HAS BEEN ONE MORE CHANGE OF RULES"

You stared at each other in confusion.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR FIRST EVER TWO VICTORS, Y/N FROM DISTRICT 3 AND FINCH FROM DISTRICT 5! THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION! GOODBYE!"

~several days later~

The Capitol was completely taken with the first couple to win the games.

Upon being interviewed, Foxface's response was "We're a team. We always were and always will be," and you couldn't agree more.

                                                   ๑*˚🍓˚*๑ 

[andrea-lyn]

If you know one (or two) things about me, it’s that I am occasionally chronically late to a fandom (sometimes accidental, sometimes on purpose), so I missed the ATLA renaissance, but I found my way around to it, which means! Recs! 

This is going to be majority Sokka/Zuko, with a couple others in here. There’s def a second post coming as I make my way through the tag. As ever, master rec post can be found pinned on my tumblr here! 

Zukka ATLA Recs

Wooing the Water Tribe by lenaballena (ALL TIME FAVE RIGHT HERE)

Zuko is courting Katara, and with every passing day finds new and insane ways of showing that he would quite literally move the spirit world and earth to make her happy.

In hindsight, it probably would've been better if Sokka had realised he was in love with Zuko at literally any time before this. Or preferably, never fallen for his best friend in the first place.

exothermic reaction by blueconsequences

When Sokka is temporarily blinded by Fire Nation soldiers, the members of the Gaang take turns to care for him.

One pair of hands is warmer than the others.

Love's Such an Old-Fashioned Word by drvcos

When invited to the 100th anniversary of his father’s company, after 15 years of radio silence, Zuko decides to show how happy he is to all the people from his past. There’s only one (fatal) problem.

Or,

Zuko is a frazzled single dad, Sokka is an absolute flirt, and the “fake” that comes before their relationship doesn’t feel all that fake.

like real people do by verdanthoney for bleekay

Sokka knew he would be dealing with a raging case of baby fever during their annual vacation on Ember Island. What he didn’t expect was to discover that he was also hopelessly in love with Zuko, and had been for years without realizing.

Spirits Help Us, There's Two of Them by hopepunk

Sokka and Zuko are both weird guys. Fortunately, they're the same kind of weird as each other.

(do you take this jerk to be) your one and only by jatersade

Under the leadership of Fire Lord Iroh, the Fire Nation has made every attempt to restore peace and make amends for the harm they inflicted during the Seventy-Year War. Their newest proposal is a literal proposal: a marriage to unite the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes.

The Fire Nation offers Prince Zuko’s hand.

The Water Tribes offer Princess Yue’s.

Sokka is apparently the only person in the world who has a problem with any of this.

isn't this the vision that you wanted by nebulastucky

Firelord Zuko - ender of the Hundred Year War, ruler of the Fire Nation, payer of respects and reparations - takes advice and counsel from representatives of every nation, division, and specialty.

But teenage boy Zuko - friend of turtleducks, wielder of fun looking swords, stumbler over words and feet in the presence of cute boys - only listens to two people, and they are conspiring together to ruin him.

or: Iroh just wants what's best for his nephew, and Katara just wants to know everyone's business.

we had a moment, we had a summertime by nebulastucky

Sokka shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You get captured and killed by the Fire Nation,” Toph provides.

“They won’t execute me in a tea shop,” Sokka says around a sudden lump in his throat. “That’d be bad for business.”

or: the one where sokka falls for a tea shop and a boy with too much charm for his own good.

Ignition Point by Yuu_chi

Most people know they're a bender since birth. Sokka just had to discover it at twenty when he accidentally burns his own house down.

Alchemy by mindbending

Sokka (a.k.a the Silent Knight, a.k.a. the sharpest detective in Caldera City) has three cases weighing on his mind.

1.) Zuko, son of the mob boss Ozai, has gone missing under sinister circumstances. 2.) Lee, a teahouse waiter with the face of an angel, wears a scar of mysterious origins. 3.) The Blue Spirit, a lithe and enigmatic cat burglar, keeps stealing into the Fire Nation’s storehouses (not to mention Sokka’s dreams).

Sokka sighs and takes a swig from his special bottle. It’s hard solving three completely unrelated mysteries at the same time...

[akampana]

12. For Lancelot and Artoria?

12. “You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you.”

Lancelot X Arturia

When I made this, initially it was only supposed to be up to the cut. So you can read up to there first, then decide if you need another helping of fresh angst. :)

_______

The stables of Camelot used to be a comfort. He was here frequently, fetching his King’s horse from the stableboy right before hunts, sometimes returning Llamrei when Arthur had to be pulled away right after going riding. The horses were familiar with him, so they did not stir, not even when Lancelot came in drenched in red.

The exiled knight stifled his sobs as he spat iron, rubbing the blood—Gareth’s? Gaheris’s? he didn’t know—on his hands all over his frock. It was a futile effort. No matter what he did, his palms would remain stained by the blood of Gawain’s brothers. First Agravain’s, and now theirs, who knew who it would be next?!

He’d been toeing the line between madness and sanity for hours now, knowing his name was tarnished beyond belief. Every second that passed saw him slipping, sliding, till that one moment where he finally fell over the edge. If not for the knowledge that Guin was waiting just outside the castle gates for his return, he’d have been kicking and screaming under the weight of his pain.

Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. He chanted in his head, finding Gareth’s white horse. It wouldn’t be missed. It hadn’t its master anymore. Slowly, he swung the gate open.

As if sensing his sins, the horse whinnied and bucked, thrashing against the reins. Lancelot braced its muzzle, begging for its silence to no avail. Tears fell from his eyes as he contemplated putting the animal down before it could stress the other stallions, but suddenly, the beast stilled, calmed by a smaller hand on its nose.

In an instant, Arondight was slashing through the stranger’s black and white hood. There couldn’t be any more witnesses. Not even the stableboy—god, deliver the innocent soul—could leave here alive.

Perhaps it was his anguish, or maybe his guilt, but his strike missed, only just managing to catch the string of the small person’s cloak. With great haste, Lancelot brought up his sword again as the hood fell from the boy’s face.

Onyx clashed with evergreen.

Then, Lancelot was sobbing on his knees, clinging to King Arthur—Arturia’s ankles and begging for death. His sins were plentiful. He’d done enough. He deserved not the blade he wielded, nor the life he still had. The fire and stake that were prepared for tomorrow should have been for him, not Guinevere, for it was he that ought to be thrown into hell.

“Lance,” Arturia called, sinking down to the unworthy soil. Carefully, she lifted his head so his tearful eyes met her forlorn ones. She leaned her forehead onto his, for touch was the only comfort she knew, and returned Arondight to his hands.

“You must take this with you. Your sword will not find another master here. Guin—” she flinched at the sound of her wife’s name, her eyes beginning to sting. “Guin needs your protection.”

“My liege, I implore you, end my life—”

“I refuse,” Arturia cut him off, suddenly standing and walking to the end of the stables. It was far too dark for him to see her tears, the way she bit the inside of her cheek. Deep down, Arturia knew this decision was costly. She smelt blood on him. It was not difficult to guess whose it was. If Guinevere was freed already, then she knew to prepare two graves when the sun came up. Her dearest nephew had just lost two more of his kin.

While Lancelot flung whispered questions her way, she saddled her horse and put on its reins, leading it back to her knight. Ignoring his words, she pressed the leather into his hands, bracing herself for goodbye.

“The archers at the gate will not dare shoot Dun Stallion. He is quick as the wind and fond of...fond of her.”

Ignoring his protests, she trudged past him to the exit, pulling her torn hood over her head once more. Lancelot made chase, but she’d already made the decision to let him go. At this point, could he even refuse this, when she extended her generosity even after all his sins?

He couldn’t.

Arturia looked back once, her hood concealing the last remorseful look she’d saved just for her First Knight. As he mounted her prized horse, she whispered low enough that the breeze could carry it away.

“You have to come back to me. Because...I cannot do this without you.”

Lancelot turned for a final glance, knowing not that this would be the last time he saw the person he loved the most alive and well.

“My king, I beg of you. Please. Please, Arthur.”

...

“No...No, no, no!” Lancelot pleaded, scooping up his beloved king’s broken body into his arms. Five steps away, Bedivere bit his lip, a fourth wave of tears falling from his tired eyes. The banished knight shook her once, twice, but the peaceful expression on her face didn’t change. Lancelot slipped his hand into her hair, supporting the head that lolled back, screaming her name in the hopes that she’d respond.

Salt fell from his dark lashes onto her cold cheek as Lancelot hugged her to his chest, squeezing hard enough there was no chance she wouldn’t complain. She had to. She had to say he was smothering her or...or that he didn’t deserve to touch her or that this wasn’t appropriate conduct for a knight. She had to.

“No,” he cried, feeling her blood seep through the gaps in his armor. “I came back, my liege. I returned for you, I swear it.” Curse Gawain. If he hadn’t just...if Gawain had just let him pass—If he could have held out on delivering vengeance just long enough for Lancelot to join the war...But how could he blame his friend, when he came running back in the name of Britain with Gareth’s bloodstains still fresh on his hands?

Lancelot wailed at her silence, clutching that who mattered most to him in desperation. Give her back, he prayed, hopelessly appealing to every deity he knew, even the most mischievous of fae. Someone, anyone had to respond. Was there no god that took pity on a king who sold her life in service? Was there no one at all?

The disgraced swordsman shoved Bedivere’s hand off his shoulder, hugging Arturia’s dead—no, not dead she couldn’t be— body closer. He ignored his former comrade’s words. She hadn’t gone. She was just sleeping.

“I did what you said. I returned for you, I…” he hiccupped, feeling no breath from her soft lips. His fist thudded on the bark of the tree she leaned against, the pain ripping through his knuckles paling in comparison to that which plagued his heart. Suddenly, he grabbed onto her chestplate, ripping off the armor like it was paper, and pressed his head to her heart. Surely it was still beating. Surely—

Lancelot?

The disgraced knight launched himself off the ground at the familiar voice, turning to see his king smiling down at him from behind a nearby tree.

“Arturia?” he answered, relief tainting his strained vocal chords. She beckoned him toward her, with welcoming arms, not a single speck of blood in sight.

Did I worry you, my love?

Lancelot walked toward her, reaching for his most precious person. Each step felt lighter than the last. He could vaguely hear Bedivere calling to him, but he ignored the noise. Arturia was here. Nothing else mattered more.

“No, my liege,” came his fragile answer as he kissed her cold, featherlight fingers. “I believed you would wait. I came in haste but Gawain—”

Visions of bloodshed overtook his mind like black paint thrown onto a white canvas. Suddenly, the sunny forest turned to one of flesh and bone, of bodies of friend and foe alike. Everywhere he looked were the friends he wronged. Gawain, his siblings, all those he had to cut down just to protect the king’s wife, then Guin—

There is no need to speak of him, love, for you are here at last.

Arturia’s voice pulled him back into paradise. He couldn’t even feel his wounds. When did she start wearing her hair down like that? It was lovely.

Come, Lance.

“Yes, my king,” he replied, content.

Lancelot followed her into the forest, a wide smile upon his once troubled face.

Bedivere clutched his king’s dead body to his chest, watching in horror as Lancelot disappeared into the trees.

[hyper-fixate]

you wouldn’t believe the dream I just had about you and me

[The other night, during a 3 am feed, I saw a post about soulmate prompts (I found it!) and saw this one (paraphrased):

20. They recognize their soulmate because they’ve heard their laughter in their dreams.

And today, those immortal husbands wouldn’t let me leave it be. Title from Some Nights by Fun.]

updated with AO3 version.

------- Yusuf remembered when his older brother, Hamza, had gotten married to a shy dress maker from the village over. She looked beautiful. She had hand stitched a beautiful pattern across the skirt of her simple tunic, with looping branches and leaves. A tree, the joining of two families to make one. Yusuf had been intrigued by it, choosing to sit by his new sister’s knee and gently traced his fingers along it. Something in the soft blue-green thread intrigued him. He knew he would sketch it in the hearth this evening, as he lay watching the fire dwindle to embers. His mother tried to shoo him away, admonishing him for touching the precious dress with his sticky fingers but Karima gently placed her hand on the nape of his neck and smiled at him beneath her veil.

‘Are you happy to be married to my brother?’ Yusuf asked breathlessly. Only seven, but already his mind was filled with the glory of love. The romance he still saw in his parents eyes as they brushed gentle fingers against each other’s cheeks and arms. He knew his parent’s love story and it warmed him to know that they were blessed with so many long, happy years together. He fell asleep with the same fervent prayer on his lips: let me have a soulmate too.

‘Yes, little brother.’ Karima glanced at Hamza in a way that was so tender and loving, Yusuf blushed as though he had intruded on something intimate. ‘From the moment I heard his laugh, it was as if a great weight was lifted from me.’ 

‘Then I heard hers, and she snorts. Like a boar.’ Hamza had come over to them, grasping one of Karima’s hands in his and drawing it to his lips. She swatted at him with her free hand, but she did laugh. And it did end in a small snort, a joyous noise that seemed to escape her against her will. 

‘How did you know, then,’ Yusuf considered his words carefully, ‘that it was dreams of your soulmate and not a boar?’

That drew a great laugh from Hamza. He laughed with his whole body, throwing his head back and even Karima giggled lightly.

‘Little brother, your mind is a treasure.’ Hamza gently ran his thumb over Karima’s knuckles and they exchanged that look again. ‘I must continue to check on our guests? Do you need anything?’

‘No, our little brother is taking good care of me.’ Karima said and Yusuf felt the tops of his ears heat at the easy nature in which she accepted him. Hamza kissed her hand again and, with a whispered endearment, left them. Karima looked down into Yusuf’s shining eyes. 

‘Do you wish to know a secret?’ She looked at him conspiratorially, and he nodded. ‘You must not say anything.’ Yusuf held his finger over his lips, to mime his silence. ‘But a part of me was so glad that my soul was bound to one so handsome and I was instantly ashamed. To be gifted a soulmate so close and so easy to find and to be concerned with his looks?’ She sighed, leaning back into her chair. ‘But what has been the greatest blessing is getting to hear your brother’s laugh at all hours of the day, not just in my dreams.’ 

She had a hazy smile on her lips, one Yusuf knew well from watching his parents. He had tried to capture that smile in drawings. Tried to imagine it on his own face when he caught his reflection in still water. To imagine the contentment of knowing you had found the other half of your soul, that you were finally on the path you had been destined to tread. He swallowed painfully.

For Yusuf had a secret. A dark, terrible secret, that felt so heavy in his young heart.

Yusuf was not certain he had a soulmate. 

He knew how it worked. That when your soulmate laughed, you would hear it that night in your dreams. His father, Ibrahim, had spoken of the joy he had, growing up and hearing his mother’s light laugh every night. How happy he’d been, knowing his future partner was so carefree and easy to laugh. How he’d felt his heart would explode when he’d heard that laugh, outloud, that fateful day in the market. How it had speared him through his heart. And Yusuf had sighed at the romanticism of it.

But Yusuf didn’t hear laughter in his dreams. Not really. Sometimes he thought he heard small huffs, little sighs of sound. But never laughter. Not the type that seemed to ring in his family home at all times of the day. When Ibrahim caught Mariam in his arms and swung her. When Hamza told stories of the men at the docks, trying to haggle for the wares. When Karima brought him sweets from the market.

When Hamza and Karima announced that there would be even more laughter to look forward to, their intertwined hands splayed over her flat stomach.

He was nearly thirteen when Yusuf woke suddenly, spilling the papers he had been sketching on before he’d fallen asleep. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he knew what had woken him. A deep noise that sounded warm and joyful, but still so restrained. As he chased the dream, the noise seemed to slip through his memory and he couldn’t hold it. But a small giggle bubbled from his own lips.

It had been a laugh. 

He had a soulmate.

A more painful thought occurred to him, then. His soulmate had had so very little opportunity to laugh that it had taken nearly thirteen years to hear it properly. He did not think discovering he had a soulmate would have made his heart heavier. But the ache in his chest when he realised that there was someone out there for him, but that this person did not have the joy Yusuf had? That cut him deeply. He scrambled out of bed and folded his body into the familiar shape of prayer. He swore, as solemnly as he could, to bring such joy to his partner that he would know that dreamy contentment Karima had shared with him all those years ago, on her wedding day. I will hear your laugh at all hours of the day, to make up for years worth of missed dreams. 

Yusuf, like any good romantic, was also predisposed to fits of melancholy. He was not sure what he had done to upset Allah. He had had a good childhood, his silent existential crisis about not having a soulmate not withstanding. He had enjoyed his work with his father and brother, travelling by land and sea to trade their goods. Some part of him kept his feet moving. He seemed to know, deep down, that his quiet, solemn soulmate would not be found in the next village over. So he had travelled happily, easily charming those he met with a sharp wit and an easy wink. At every new market, new town, new inn, he wondered if this would be the moment he heard it. Heard the laugh that would begin his life anew.

Then that damned Frankish pope had called his holy war and everything had changed.

There was no laughter anywhere, not anymore. Not when Yusuf’s days were spent trudging through endless sands with this damned man. He’s not sure what made him offer his hand in peace after the last time they woke up. Honestly, it was more fatigue than any sort of mercy. He was covered in sand, his own blood, the Frank’s (Nicolo, his mind unhelpfully supplied) blood. There was bone and gore in his hair, caked under his nails and in his mouth. Surely anything would be better than this. Even walking with his once enemy who was trapped in this living hell with him.

It took many weeks for them to realise they shared a common language. It took them months to accept that whatever curse they both suffered had held and that perhaps, they should stop trying to kill one another and at least be civil. 

Nicolo’s Greek was slow and halting, half remembered from when he was a boy and before he had been promised to the church. Yusuf’s years of travelling made languages easier for him and between Greek and exaggerated hand movements, he had begun to pick up bits and pieces of Nicolo’s mother tongue. Nicolo still tripped over Arabic hopelessly, but was a dedicated student. He asked constantly for the names of things and spent hours repeating them to himself, to try and imprint them on his tongue.

Yusuf watched his hopeless companion and decided that perhaps he had not angered Allah that badly. Though their meeting had been so violent, he had seen a kindness under the layers of doctrine and faith, an eagerness to learn and experience this new world. Nicolo was distractedly oiling his long sword whilst clumsily rolling the strange Arabic consonants and vowels around his tongue. He misprounounced every word.

His companion was amusing if nothing else. And a fairly good cook. 

And that’s why you don’t tempt fate. Yusuf thought a moment later, as his musings were cut short by the sharp pain in his neck and he barely had time to see Nicolo jump to his feet as his world tilted sideways and went dark.

Yusuf awoke with a violent gasp. He sat up, his hands scrambling to his neck. His fingers found nothing but tacky blood. Nicolo was watching him, his eyes oddly bright in the dying light.

‘What happened?’ Yusuf asked, his voice rasping. He put his hands on his thighs, trying to ground himself. Nicolo moved back slowly, sitting down in front of Yusuf.

‘Bandits.’ Nicolo jutted his chin towards his right. Yusuf saw two bodies laying in pools of dark blood. ‘They shot you with an arrow.’ A small movement out of the corner of his eye drew Yusuf’s gaze back to Nicolo. He was holding an arrow bolt in his hand. ‘You did not wake up.’ Nicolo said, swallowing hard. ‘Not until I pulled out the arrow. I had thought-’ There was a half strangled sound from the Genoan. ‘I was wondering if your stubborn refusal to die was just at my hand.’ Nicolo said it so quietly, Yusuf’s tired brain took a moment to make sense of it.

It was easier to understand Nicolo’s tone in zeneize, his mother tongue. But Yusuf could hear fear in this man’s voice in any language. Anger and fear had been their first shared language, after all. Yusuf tore his eyes from the arrow, the arrow Nicolo had to tear from his neck, and back at his companion and saw the other man’s tunic was covered in blood. 

‘Are you well?’ Yusuf reached out, his hand poised in the air between him. Nicolo didn’t move away, but stared at Yusuf’s hand as one would a snake about to strike. ‘Did they hurt you?’ Yusuf tried to make the return of his hand seem casual and not stilted, but the tension still hung in the air.

‘This is mostly yours.’ Nicolo said, waving to his chest. ‘It sprouted out of you like a fountain when I pulled this out.’ He rubbed a hand across his cheek, smearing more blood. He grimaced when his hands came away tacky. ‘How bad is it?’ 

‘For you? It’s an improvement.’ Yusuf said in perfect zeneize and in such a deadpan manner that it startled a laugh out of his companion.

Yusuf froze. 

For a full moment, he wondered distantly if his heart had actually stopped and he was in the liminal space between their deaths and their gasping rebirth.

Nicolo laughed. Nicolo laughed.

And Yusuf knew that laugh.

He moved almost as a blur, reaching for Nicolo before the other man could react. Yusuf’s hands caught Nicolo’s face and the force of his movement knocked the paler man back, wedged uncomfortably, half on his knees and half on his pack. Nicolo squawked indignantly, trying to move away, his hands searching for a weapon on instinct. But it was too far away and the manner in which Yusuf had pinned him made it impossible to lever himself off his feet. Yusuf shushed him, softly, gently. Trying to convey that he meant no harm as one hand slid Nicolo’s hair away from his face and Yusuf searched those damned beautiful eyes for something. 

‘What are you doing?’ Nicolo, extremely confused and uncomfortable, stumbled out in slightly mispronounced Arabic, following it with a small huff at the manic look on Yusuf’s face. And it speared Yusuf right through the heart.

He knew that sound too. And his heart flew and broke and started thumping in his chest as if it wished to escape his flesh. Something had to escape, so Yusuf threw his head back and laughed. Nicolo went still under him, his eyes blown wide.

‘Mio Dio.’ Nicolo gasped under him and Yusuf couldn’t help himself. 

He laughed again.

(Prologue, of sorts)

‘And I kept my promise, I have tried every day to make him laugh. If only I’d known as a boy, so unsure of my dreams, how those small noises of joy would make my heart soar. How drawing a full bodied laugh from this quiet, thoughtful priest would make my blood boil in a very different way then when we met-’ Joe says

‘Yes, yes. We get it. You’re still disgustingly sweet.’ Andy sits down, her hands curled around a vodka bottle and offers it to Nile. Nile shakes her head. Andy takes a swig straight from the top.

‘Wait, so you didn’t laugh around each other for months?’ Nile looks slightly dazed. 

Nicky shrugs. ‘We were too busy trying to kill each other.’

Joe laughs.

Nicolo’s point of view here.

[erensnubs]

𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑱𝒐

Hanamaki Takihiro x GN! Reader

Based off of the Laurie and Jo Scene in Little Women

Summary: Sometimes first loves never work out

Content: Angst, pure angst

From pirate ships, to being monarchs and warriors of old, you and Hanamaki Takahiro, were best friends.

He was the little boy who moved in next door, snot running down his nose, hands stained with dirt as he offered you a piece offering of roly polies and leaves.

You were the little kid who rolled around in the mud and terrorized the other kids by throwing sticks at them.

Needless to say you immediately became best friends. And menaces to your parents, the neighborhood kids and society in general.

You were together from the young ages of kindergarten, you were there to witness Hanamaki's awkward stage of puberty. You were there to witness him making other friends than you and lovers.

He was there when he saw you make other friends than him, dating a lot of people. He was there when you were scared of going to middle school, was there when you had anxiety over grades.

You were there for each other all the time, ups and downs, triumphs and trials.

So it was natural, that Hanamaki fell, completely and hopelessly;

In love with you.

You're running in the grass, rolling around with Hanamaki laughing your asses off. You guys have just graduated highschool and the two of you, being the dumb bitches you are decide to skip the family party to celebrate your accomplishments. 

“We’re adults now!” You yell, half skipping down the hill and eventually trip. 

You pick yourself up and start screaming. 

“I’M FREE FROM THIS GOD FORSAKEN TOWN! WE’RE FREE!” 

Hanamaki laughs, “Yeah says the one who barely passed history.” 

He grabs you by the arm and drags you through the flowers of the field and sets you down, all the while you giggle deliriously. 

Usually Hanamaki would be laughing along, making stupid jokes about your laugh. 

But he doesn’t. 

And it scares you. 

Before you even open your mouth to say anything, Hanamaki plops down beside you and thoughtfully asks, 

“What are we going to do, [Name]? After here?” 

The question sounded serious not like those ones where he asked you if he looked sexy for prom or if his crocs match the vibe of the weather that day. 

You paused to take in the question. 

“Well... I can’t really answer that Hiro Out of our whole friend group we’ve always been the floaters. The ones that never really know what we’re doing...” 

Hanamaki turns his head around, baby hairs sticking onto his skin from the sweat of running. His eyes are looking at you, no they’re looking through you. 

He breathes out a yes, like he’s been holding something from you. A secret he didn’t want to tell. 

You turn away abruptly hoping he doesn’t see your slight change of attitude. 

“Iwaizumi’s going to America, Mattsun is getting ready for college, and you know Oikawa is going over to Brazil to pursue volleyball.” 

“I honestly don’t know Hiro. I get that we can’t be kids who run around more and throw dirt at each other,” you say laughing softly. 

Hanamaki scoffs, “But you wish it was like that huh?” 

You sit up and pick the grass from the ground and throw it randomly into the air. 

“Of course! I still want to get a pirate ship and go and travel the world with you.” 

Hanamaki raises his eyebrows, “And steal gold from random people?” 

You smile cheekily, “Of course. Then we’ll build our chocolate empire, something that could rival Willy Wonka’s.” 

Hanamaki stands up and puts his hand out to you. 

You grab it, but why do you feel like the gesture is something much more than a friendly hand? 

The two of you start walking, swinging your arms around as you joke about your chocolate factory, your pirate ships, the adventures you’re going to have. 

The sun was setting, the long, green blades of grass turning yellow as you and Hanamaki run through them, creating scars and bumps on your skin. 

You were going to miss highschool. You were going to miss groaning about exams and certain substitute teachers. Miss skipping classes with Mattsun and Makki to go get wasted with cheap alcohol. 

You were going to miss Oikawa and his stupid smile and Iwaizumi and his stupid nicknames. You were going to miss crying with the 3rd years over lost volleyball games. 

Hell, you were probably going to cry when Oikawa and Iwaizumi left to continue their lives. You might even cry when Mattsun goes to college even if he isn’t going overseas. 

But at least you had Hanamaki. Your dearest friend. Though your relationship has gotten deeper and you were able to confide with each other, you were still the 2 children that fought other kids on the playground. 

You could always, always rely on him. Because you never changed with each other. 

“[Name]?” 

You turn around and see Hanamaki. His eyes glowed with something. 

And it was not of the setting sun. 

“Yes?” You say, the sky turning darker as moments pass. 

“I know we talk about us being adventurous and going with the flow... but I feel like we could do something more, you know?” he says it quietly, his thumb subconsciously rubbing yours. 

You look up at him, “What do you mean? You just want to suddenly work a 9-5 job in a corporate company? We talked about this Hiro...” 

He looks taken aback, “No no, that’s not what I meant [Name].”

Hanamaki gets quieter, “We could always be little kids, playing with swords and sticks. Together.” 

You pause as Hanamaki looks up at your eyes. Together? You’ve always been together? Always. 

Wait. 

He couldn’t possibly mean. 

You pull back from his grasp, 

“No Hiro I can’t do that. Please no.” 

You start walking away from him and he advances as he argues, trying to salvage something. 

“[Name], no I love you and I have always loved you since we were little! I can’t imagine myself being with anyone else besides you!” 

You walk faster and wrap your arms around yourself, “No, no, no. Hiro you’re being ridiculous.” 

“Yes, YES!” 

“No! We can’t!” 

“[NAME]! COME BACK HERE LET ME SEE YOU!” Hanamaki says running towards you. 

You spin around and stare at him, “We can’t work Hiro! I could never love you that way, and I would be lying, God I would be lying if I said that I did. Our whole life together we’re going to be pretending.” 

He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, “Why?! We were just talking about doing adventures together! Why is that any different than what I proposed!?” 

You stomp your foot onto the ground, “Did you not just listen to me you dipshit? I could never love you romantically! Ever! I care for you, I worry for you but Hanamaki you are my friend. My closest friend. You are the one thing in my life that hasn’t changed so quickly and then you pull this shit?” 

Hanamaki starts yelling now, “BUT I MAKE YOU HAPPY! AND YOU MAKE ME HAPPY! WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER SIDE BY SIDE, FOR YEARS [NAME]! YEARS! I HAVE DONE EVERYTHING I COULD HAVE TO TELL YOU I LOVE YOU!” 

You start shaking your head, “No, don’t say that.”

Hanamaki starts rambling, “You always tell me that words and actions are your love languages- 

“Stop.” 

“And I’ve been doing it, [Name]. I have. I have been there for you, anywhere and-and-”

“Takihiro stop.” 

“And I can’t feel like this anymore. I can’t let you slip through my fingers and watch you run away from me like everyone else has-”

“TAKIHIRO STOP IT!” 

The only things that you could hear were the sounds of your breathing and the crickets in the grass. 

“Takihiro, you’re being a child. You’re being stupid and ridiculous. Do not let the fantasies of a boy ruin your future,” you say sternly, begging for your tears to not fall onto the ground. 

“You say that, [Name], and then run from everything that requires commitment,” he says sharply. 

“You’re a coward, [Name]. You’re hurting me.” 

Hanamaki is stepped away from you know and he starts walking away. 

“My life has no meaning anymore-”

You scoff, “Takihiro your love for me isn’t worth your life!” 

Hanamaki walks away and his voice is racked with sobs. Oh god he seriously does love you. 

Why? 

“Takihiro come back here!” 

You’re running towards him now, grabbing his arm but he pushes away. 

“Takihiro think with your brain! Just because we can’t be together the way you want doesn’t mean we have to sever all ties!” You say breathlessly. 

“I mean think about it, we could have never worked. You hate the fact I don’t eat your favorite ice cream, you constantly like to go out and I like staying home.” 

“I don’t care-” 

“I hate meeting your other family members because they look down on me, my family members have always been skeptical of you-” 

“I don’t care about that-” 

“And we would be miserable, Takihiro. Absolutely miserable with one another-” 

“No we wouldn’t,” he says stopping and grabbing your arm. Your noses were touching as his thin lips tried to connect with yours.

You pull away. 

“Admit it Makki. We are better off as friends, not lovers,” you say finally. 

“I’m ugly and I don’t care about my appearance like your other lovers do. I’m brutally honest with you and sometimes you cry about my opinion and-” 

“I love you [Name].” 

“I’m lazy and have no real goal in life, I have no foundation no, no rock or something. I don’t have a drive, Hiro! You’re going to be stuck with someone who doesn’t care.” 

“I love you.” 

“And you’re going to find someone else, a nice person, who likes eating your ice cream and dresses up. Who has a clear goal in life and someone your family will love-” 

“No one could ever replace you, [Name]-” 

You throw your hands up in frustration, “You’re mixing platonic and romantic feelings together and turning it into some big thing!” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Yes you are.” 

Silence surpasses you again and Hanamaki starts walking away. 

You spoke up, “But-” 

He turns around again and looks at you with hope. Hope for something more. 

“That I don’t think I’ll ever be with someone romantically, Makki. I’ve gone years without.” 

Hanamaki scoffs and starts to laugh cruelly, 

“I don’t believe that, [Name]. You’re going to find someone, and you’re going to fall hard.” 

You sneer, “How do you know?” 

“I just do, you’re impossible to not fall in love with. You’re the sunshine in my life.” 

“Takihiro don’t say that, please.” 

He looks back at you, “But you are! You are my world, my-” 

“LEAVE ME! OH MY GOD LEAVE ME!” You yell at him and turn away. 

This was the 1st time Hanamaki hears you with that voice. 

"[Name]-"

"JUST GO PLEASE-"

"YOU WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE [NAME]!” 

You spit out your words, “OH REALLY YOU THINK I WILL? ME? THE PERSON WHO TURNED YOU DOWN?!” 

“YES! YES [NAME],” Hanamaki says. 

“You’re going to fall in love with someone and you’re perfect, care free life will turn upside down and they’re going to love you. And you’re going to be perfect with each other-” 

“HANAMAKI-” 

“And I will watch. I will watch you grow and love this person. I will watch it happen because I still love you and I don’t think I’ll love anyone else.” 

“And I will watch you, I will watch you [Name], and- and,” 

You couldn’t bear to see his tears fall from his eyes, so you turn away. 

“I will imagine that it could have been me and you-”

“Hanamaki please-” 

“I don’t know what to do with myself but I will still take care of you and I truly love you, forever and-” 

“Hanamaki-” 

“I won’t ever stop, [Name]. Ever,” he says softly as he tries to reach out for your hand. 

You pull away, your voice breaking. 

“Hanamaki, go. I don’t want to see you right now,” you say softly. 

You don’t have to turn around to see him crumble. You can feel it. 

Because your heart was crumbling too. 

“I’ll go... get back safe, [Name],” he adds. 

You don’t say anything back, and hear the slow movements in the grass as your best friend walked away from you. 

Forever. 

The sky is dark, the stars seemed ashamed at your argument, and they don’t shine like they used to from years before. 

You stayed in the grass, silent tears on your face as you shielded yourself from the cold with your arms. 

You wanted to go home, but home wasn’t a place

It was a person. And his name was Hanamaki Takihiro. 

But home loved you, and you didn’t love it back the way they wanted. 

More tears flowed from your eyes at the sudden thought emerged from your eyes. 

You had no home anymore. 

AN: Another random little oneshot I did for my boy Hanamaki! Please comment your thoughts or reblog and like! I need constructive critiscm loves so I know what I can write and appeal to! 

Taglist: @saladskittles​

[alkhale]

Shoot the Ball Pt.2 (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader) Ko-fi request

Hi. Could I get a ushiwaka trying to hopelessly flirt with a clueless OC? I requested Shoot the Ball and I am in love with what you did (and basically everything else you wrote and will write) thanks!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Aaaaa I love your writing!! Would it be possible to get a part two of the Shoot the Ball (Ushijima x Reader) fic?? That story is so fucking adorable and Id love to see more of Ushijima and the readers relationship (maybe throw in a confession or something in there)?

It’s here on AO3 if that makes for easier reading too! More to come!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551512/chapters/59287438

Shoot the Ball Pt. 2

“Um, senpai, are you alright?”

You laughed, almost a bit haughtily. “Alright? Of course I’m alright, what are you talking about?”

You hardly looked up from your kneeling position on the wooden boards of the humble kyudo hall, bow laid across your lap as you worked on tightening the new string. It wasn’t the best time to readjust to a new one, given your still aching wrist, but you couldn’t have your old one breaking on you with the first round of tournaments coming up.

The hall itself was in impeccable condition, thanks to the hard efforts of yourself and your team. The lot of you spend hours toiling to make sure the grass is cut, the range is kept clean, and the hall itself shines in case you receive curious faculty visits or sponsors otherwise. Shiratorizawa Academy may be a wealthy one, but not all the wealth was concentrated kindly to each part of the school. It was up to you, the captain, and your members to keep the hall shining as though it were just as good—especially because it was —so new visitors would only continue to be impressed.

But instead of shooting rounds like your younger members should be doing, a small huddle of the closer second and first years were shooting you worried glances. You were the only third year still spear-heading the entire campaign since the rest had left for studies or quit beforehand. Your vice-captain was a second year and close confidant and currently running around campus like a fool because you sent her on an errand so you could get more practice in before she chased you out.

“(L/n)-san you’re good at kyudo, so of course you’d stay. We just did it for fun.”

You can be good at it and have fun. You thought tirelessly, remembering watching the third years leave the hall, standing alone in the waning sunlight across wooden floorboards. You’re just giving up.

It wasn’t as though you were born gifted. They can joke you were born with a bow in your hand, but it was pure luck that your mother turned the television on to that channel that day, showcasing the national kyudo archery performance at the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. It was luck that you fell in love with that sound and the way the bow bent and the arrow flew.

And it was hard work to follow through with the luck that brought you here.

They all told you you only had one thing on the brain—kyudo, and they also said it’d probably be the end of you. Even your parents had been dropping light hints as of late that perhaps you should finally peel off the sport and bunker down for your studies. “What about college? Kyudo might not get you there, you know.”

“Are you going to do it forever?”

What else were you going to do? Die? Of course you were going to do kyudo forever. If it didn’t get you into college then you just wouldn’t go.

There was nothing you loved more than this sight, this bow, this.

Nothing.

N-o-t-h-i-n-g.

Your juniors shot each other more nervous looks. One brave young first year who you secretly planned to have join the five-team shoot finally took a step forward, hesitantly pointing to your lap.

“Senpai,” she said nervously, “...your string is…”

“Impeccable,” you said simply, holding up your bow like a sword, a sharp glint in your eye. “Now get back to the range. I’m shooting rounds right after you guys before—”

“You put it on… wrong…”

You calmly stared at your junior for several seconds, the other archers looking frightful behind her. You glanced down to your bow, staring at where your string was, sure enough, notched to absolutely nothing instead of the other end.

You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, cheeks flushing as you did the only reasonable thing and blamed the one person who had shoulders big enough to shoulder the brunt of all your problems.

Ushijima!

----- ----  -----

Shiratorizawa Nurse’s Office, One Week Ago

“You watch kyudo ?” you spluttered, scrambling off the floor and grabbing your stool in disbelief. Ushijima considered you with a cool sort of calm, staring almost blankly back at you.

He stared at your sprawled form on the ground and offered a hand. You slapped it away but it barely moved. The stupid tree of a teenager.

You watch my kyudo?

“Yes,” Ushijima said. You almost jumped, realizing what you’d thought. He set his hands back onto his lap, returning to his solid posture. “My grandmother was well-acquainted with a friend who performed for the national ceremonial procedures. We often have the kyudo channel on within my household.”

Each sentence leaving Ushijima’s lip with frightening ease was punching holes into your gut. His grandma was pals with someone who shot for the national ceremonies? He watches kyudo? He knew what a kaichu was and —

“It is a graceful sport,” Ushijima continued, meeting your gaze evenly. “I have long admired the poise. I watched your debut on the national stage when they broadcasted your first-year tournament. You performed admirably.”

Your brain short circuited, snapping like a bowstring. Ushijima, merciless, continued matter-of-factly, “They also had a small segment on your performance in the prefectural collegates. It is a shame there isn’t talk of scouting, but it does not seem kyudo works the same way our volleyball season does. My grandmother is familiar with your accomplishments and noticed we attend the same academy.”

Huh?

Huh?

HUH?

“I hope you perform well this season as well—”

“Wait one second!” you blurted, flying across the stool and slapping a hand over his mouth. “Wait one damn second!”

Ushijima seemed only mildly surprised that your hand was now plastered over his lips. He blinked once, calmly back at you and you pointed aggressively at him with your other hand, nearly towering over him except even when he was sitting, he seemed to match your height.

“....are you trying to mess with me?” you said suspiciously, eyes narrowed. Ushijima blinked once more, calm. “You’re—you’re just some star volleyball player! And you’re a high schooler! It doesn’t even make any sense! How do you know about all of that, huh? No one even watches that channel on their own unless they’re real—”

You stopped yourself. You blinked rapidly. Real… fans… no, no, no, there’s no way! Ushijima Wakatoshi could not be a kyudo buff—volleyball and kyudo were about on the farthest ends of the spectrum as you could get! It didn’t make any sense.

This strangely nonchalant, weird classmate of yours was supposed to be nothing more than some poster-boy with tried and true skills in volleyball who stole the spotlight from the other sports at Shiratorizawa Academy, who was nice enough to pick up your flyers and greet you in the morning and say hello in that low, rumbling way of his when you spotted him and he made eye contact with you—

I don’t get this guy! You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, tempting to fist the collar of his uniform and really show him what for—all due to your unjust frustration—if this hard-to-read volleyball jock was just messing around—but, well, Ushijima didn’t really seem like the type for that either.

You blinked stupidly at Ushijima when his hand calmly came up, holding your wrist and lowering your hand down so he could speak. “I watch.”

He seemed to think for a moment before continuing, as though answering a question asked by the teacher, “You’re on channel KNJ most Thursday nights. Some Sunday mornings. I often record the broadcasts when there seems to be something notable.”

You felt something stab through your entire being, ripping into your existence on this universe, turning the world around you upside on your head.

Mr. All-Youth-Japan tuned into broadcasts that featured your kyudo accomplishments and—

“I watch,” Ushijima repeated, never breaking contact with your gaze. His large fingers circled easily around your wrist, holding them loosely against the calloused heat of his palm. “As I said, I am a fan of your archery.”

Something incoherent left your lips. A croak of some sorts. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “Yes?”

“L-Let me get this straight,” you said shakily. “My… my archery… you watch it?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said.

“You… like it?”

“Quite,” Ushijima said.

The faint smell of salonpas tickled your nose. The light hint of sweat and fabric softener. Up close, you suddenly realized that Ushijima had more complex eyes than you thought, hinting a little bit of gold. Lighter than his hair. He smells different from what I’d expect too.

Wait, what the hell were you expecting in the first place?

Ushijima frowned briefly, eyes suddenly leaving your face and turning to your wrist. He considered where his fingers touched your skin, feverishly warm. His thumb lightly pressed the inside of your wrist and he turned his gaze back to you. “(L/n)-san, is your wrist swollen—”

“W-Well, it only makes sense, I guess!” you said loudly, yanking your hand entirely out of his grasp and tossing them both into the air. Ushijima looked up at you with furrowed brows as you laughed, nervous and sweating bullets with your fingers waggling. “ The Ushijima Wakatoshi? A fan of my archery? Hah! Haha… hah! Of course you’d be! Y-You have good taste! I’ll give you that, Ushijima-san! I’ll give you that! But that doesn’t mean anything else in the grand scheme of all this—y-you’re still nothing but a competitor for the sponsorships of this school!”

Ushijima apparead mildly confused, brows furrowed in a touch of a heavy set over his normally stern features. “Sponsorship?”

“That’s right!” you blurted, pointing right at his face. Your eyes were spinning, head twisting in circles. “All anyone cares about is your stupid volleyball!” Ushijima’s frown deepened. “Your team gets the spotlight even though we’ve got plenty of great achievements—you’re flattery won’t get you anywhere! My club is still going to come out on top and all anyone’s going to be talking about is kyudo and—and more kyudo!”

“Volleyball isn’t stupid,” Ushijima said calmly. “But I did not realize that others in our student body were not watching kyudo—”

“I’m going to go shoot right now!” you declared, almost delirious as you hurriedly grabbed your bag. Ushijima stood up from his stool, looking after you. “G-Gotta get those results—bye!”

Before Ushijima could say anything otherwise, you were sprinting out the door, nearly tripping over your feet and covering your face in your hands as you still tried to process the fact that Ushijima Wakatoshi was your first and probably only fan.

You probably fainted somewhere in the kyudo hall. This had to be a dream. A weird, warped dream caused by delirious induced hallucinations of Ushijima’s volleyball posters.

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

Sadly, it hadn’t been a dream. The entire interaction a week ago had been very, very real, and it’d annoyingly been on your mind since. You tried furiously to dispel all thoughts of it with waves of your arrows and aggressive scrubbing of the floors, but to no avail.

“I watch.”

Ushijima of all people? You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Him? Kyudo? That muscle head?

But… if he knew so much about it and even recorded broadcasts… then he really did have great taste. Kyudo was an amazing sport. Anyone willing to give it the attention it deserved was worth a good tick or two in your book. Not only that, but he complimented your archery—

No, no, forget it! You furiously shoved your things into your bag, wrapping up your bow and unstringing it as you slung everything over your shoulder. Several bags hung off your back and shoulders as well, stuffed with targets you needed to take home and repaint for tomorrow’s practice. You were the last one in the kyudo hall, sending all your juniors home to rest. Who cares if he watches your archery? Just a month ago he was some stranger on a poster!

You nodded to yourself, satisfied with your roundabout answers. Yeah, stop worrying about him. What are the odds we’ll run into each other again, anyway? Only on posters. You and Ushijima Wakatoshi were still a decent world apart, even with the recent amount of run-ins. Who was to say they wouldn’t stop tomorrow?

You nodded again, kicking the door open with your foot and struggling to pull all your bags out along with your bow, strapped neatly to your back. You huffed, shaking free like a wet dog and hobbling down the corner of the hall to begin the long trek back to the dorms. Just focus on kyudo, (Y/n). Kyudo’s all that matters anyway, not volleyball players the size of oak trees and —

“Good evening, (L/n)-san.”

AND WHY THE HELL IS HE HERE TOO?

You gaped in disbelief, pale as a sheet with your arms bulging over the top of your bags, looking like a pack mule in the middle of the road.

Ushijima Wakatoshi calmly gazed back at you, expression neutral. His volleyball bag, neatly printed with the school’s logo was slung over his shoulder. He wore the deep purple track jacket over a black t-shirt and volleyball shorts—a young athlete clearly fresh out of practice.

And now here he was, standing in front of the kyudo hall, looking at you.

Ushijima raised one big hand in greeting, staring at you. The evening glow cast a nice little warm light around his broad shoulders and hair, turning it soft.

HAH?

You almost dropped your bags in shock, blinking rapidly. You rubbed one of your eyes, blinking again and squinting in disbelief at Ushijima right in front of you. He brought his hand back down, calmly facing you.

“Um,” you said intelligently. “...take this however you want, but… what are you doing here?”

Ushijima’s eyes swept once over the amount of bags bulging out from under your arms, taking particular interest in examining the tall, towering form of your unstrung bow rising high above your head. He turned his eyes calmly back to you.

“I was waiting for you.”

Oh, right. You thought. That makes perfect sense. For some reason, Ushijima Wakatoshi is waiting for me outside the kyudo hall.

HAAAH?

“Is there… a reason why?” you asked tentatively, keeping your eyes on him as you shifted side to side like an uncertain crab.

Ushijima answered, without missing a beat, “I wanted to talk with you.”

You almost dropped all your bags. Almost. “Uh… about…?”

Ushijima seemed to consider your words for a moment longer this time. He faced you with an ungodly amount of calm, reminding you more of a statue for some kind of demi-god than a human with his towering frame and golden glow against the sunset. “Whatever it is that you might want to talk about.”

What the heck is that supposed to mean? “What the heck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, outright confused. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “And, hold on, correct me if I’m wrong or something, but you weren’t… waiting for me… right?”

(Y/n), are you an idiot? Of course this guy wasn’t waiting for you. Why would he be waiting for you —

“No,” Ushijima said. You sighed in relief. “Practice ended fifteen minutes ago. It was not much of a wait.”

You dropped all your bags to the floor, except your bow, sturdy against your back. Ushijima’s eyes turned down to the mess at your feet.

You stood like a cardboard cut out in the middle of the road, frozen in disbelief. But why?

“Do you need help?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer. You jumped back into action quickly scrambling for the bags. “You were heading back to the dorms, correct?”

“S-So what if I was?” you snapped, trying to precariously balance all your bags again. Ushijima waited, watching you struggle. You defensively added, “I-I have a system! You surprised me so I just have to get them stacked in the right order again!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

What the hell is this guy’s problem? You thought in horrified confusion, grabbing at your bags and huffing. What does he want from me? Is this some new type of bullying?

“Why are you carrying so many bags?” Ushijima asked. In any other manner, it would’ve sounded completely different, but his voice was calm, as though stating fact. You’re mouth opened and closed like a fish, still trying to wrap your head around this strange interaction.

“B-Because I have to repaint the targets!” you snapped. You struggled to fit them all back on your arms, scowling. “They were chipping yesterday so—”

In one sweeping motion, Ushijima’s hand closed over several of the bag handles, lifting the bulky materials up into the air. You blinked rapidly in disbelief, hands still hanging in the air, holding nothing but your own bow on your back while Ushijima calmly held onto your targets.

“I’ll carry them,” he said simply, gazing down at you with those impassive, unreadable eyes. The sunset made them a little warmer, but only because of the sunset. “What part of the dorms do you stay in?”

You gaped at Ushijima like a fish. He waited patiently for your answer, standing beside you and holding all your bags like they were nothing.

“I-I don’t need your help, you jerk!”

Ushijima had the nerve to look confused. “It’s more efficient this way.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“Are you on the west or east side?”

“West—I-I’m talking to you, you tree trunk! Put those down! I’ll carry them myself!”

“I do not see why you would choose a less efficient manner to—”

“You want to get beat up?”

“No, that was not my intention. Have I done something to upset you?”

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

But the problem didn’t stop there.

Every evening after practice, Ushijima waits, without fail, outside the kyudo hall. You’re always the last one to leave, and it seems for some ungodly reason, the timing of the end of his own practices mesh perfectly with yours.

You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it, staring in disbelief day after day as Ushijima appears, again and again, waiting for you outside to walk you back to the dorms. He offered to take your bag for you, asking dutifully each time even though you always turned him down since it’s just your bow and backpack and Ushijima just nods and continues, speaking every other bout of silence.

You tried to figure out why, but all he does is answer, in his stupid, impassive Ushijima-way, “I wanted to talk to you.”

Talk? With you? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? What kind of game was this guy playing? It didn’t make any sense! Each day you set out to figure out how to stop this nonsense, but each afternoon, Ushijima brought up several other topics of conversation that made you pause, pushing it off another day and then another.

And then you just… sort of resigned yourself to this strangeness.

Is it because he’s my fan? You rubbed your chin in thought, frowning at your shoes while Ushijima walked in content silence beside you. A few students shot the two of you curious glances, but you just furrowed your brows, automatically following Ushijima as he navigated you two outside a crowd of track runners and moved to the other side of the walkway with you in thoughtful tow. Is that it? I mean, I’m flattered, but this is still weird.

He talked to you about all kinds of things too—kyudo, mainly. Ushijima was a weird person to hold conversations with, seemingly blunt and forward with his intentions, but an absolute enigma at the same time. He would ask without fail how your practice went, your intentions for the upcoming preliminaries, how the competition looked, how your kyudo was going, your team—

And, yeah, maybe you would answer because it was kyudo and you loved talking about kyudo—but that was the only reason why. The only one. If someone was asking about kyudo, you’d always answer without fail.

“Well, what about volleyball?” you snapped one day, the two of you standing in the middle of the pathway, still a good few minutes away from the dorms. Ushijima turned to you, fixing you with his entire attention like always. “You’re some kind of crazy volleyball nut, right? Why aren’t you talking about it?”

“...I was under the impression you were not interested in volleyball,” Ushijma said. Did the jerk sound pleased? No way , Ushijima Wakatoshi was practically limited to two emotions. Ushijima one and two.

“I think volleyball is fine!” you said. “It’s a great sport. It’s not as great as kyudo, but it’s fine. Isn’t it your whole life? Stop talking about mine, you creep. What about yours?”

You looked up at him when Ushijima didn’t say anything. The quiet expression on his impassive face made you pause, staring at him with curiously round eyes as a third Ushijima seemed to finally appear and he started, almost… warmly , to talk about it—volleyball, him.

“Yes,” Ushijima said. “I like volleyball.”

Well, he really did seem to know his stuff about kyudo.

So… maybe Ushijima Wakatoshi wasn’t too bad after all. I mean, if he’s my fan… you should do your duty then, right? Your personal vendetta against Ushijima had mostly stemmed from the unjust bias in publicity, but it wasn’t really his fault… But only because he’s my fan… yeah. It’d be mean to turn away someone genuinely interested in talking about kyudo.

You figured you could put up with this. Just for a bit longer.

Maybe. Just a bit.

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

At the crack of dawn one weekend, you looked up from tying your running shoes, spotting a familiar, hulking figure only a few feet away. Steam billowed past his lips, making him look just as much of a monster as he did that one morning almost several months ago now from the club meeting.

Dedicated. You blew hot air into your freezing hands, shivering at the morning chill. Guess he really isn’t a nationally ranked player for nothing.

“Ushijima!”

His arms moved neatly at his sides, stride even, form impeccable. Ushijima’s eyes swung across the school courtyard and landed on your lone form by the benches. You couldn’t make out the shift in his expression from where you stood, but instead of waving in response like you expected, he veered off his running track across the pathway and made his way to you.

“Good morning,” Ushijima said, hardly sounding winded. This guy, I swear. You lifted a hand again in greeting, stuffing your freezing fingers back into your pockets. He stopped beside you, radiating warmth and thrumming with a low, even pulse of energy. You almost wanted to put your hands on him just to warm them up.

“I didn’t know you ran on the weekends too,” you said. “You don’t go home?”

“I visit when needed,” Ushijima said evenly. “My household isn’t far from campus. It’s easier to stay in the dorms.”

“Oh, I see,” you shuffled on your feet, shifting your hands inside your pockets. “Uh, sorry to disturb you. Just wanted to say hey.”

“You didn’t disturb me,” Ushijima said.

Give me something to work with after you say stuff like that! You grimaced, somewhat used to this sort of flat-ended conversation by now. You rubbed the back of your neck, Ushijima still waiting in silence beside you, seemingly content to just stare at the pathway, steam lightly slipping past his mouth when he exhaled.

“...you, uh,” you started awkwardly. “Want to run together?”

Ushijima’s dark eyes turned toward you. You shrugged, waving a hand. “If I can’t keep up, just keep going. I’m not looking to mess with your training regime or anything.”

“You’ll be able to keep up.”

You stopped, looking at Ushijima with round eyes. He gazed evenly back at you as you searched for a hint of mockery or some kind of tease, but his expression was dutifully earnest.

“...okay,” you mumbled. “...Let’s go then.”

The two of you broke off back into a jog, slowly finding your pace together, arms and legs moving in unison.

The run warmed you up faster than you expected.

You and Ushijima never once broke pace with each other.

---- --- ----

“Tendou-senpai, who is that with Ushijima-senpai?”

Tendou hummed, swinging his legs back and forth as he stretched lazily out across the court. In a few minutes he’d shape up before Coach could lecture him about his terrible form. Shirabu was stretching out beside him, eyes turned toward the double-door opening of the gym where they were letting a bit of a breeze come through. Goshiki looked up at Shirabu when he mentioned Ushijima, quickly peeking his head around too.

Sure enough, outside the double doors stood a completely rare sight to behold. Ushijima Wakatoshi himself cut several minutes close to the beginning of practice to stand outside and speak with someone.

You.

Goshiki frowned in confusion, barely catching a glimpse of you blocked by Ushijima’s hulking figure. His head was turned downwards, speaking with you. A massive, clothed staff seemed to come up from behind your back, however, rising even over Ushijima’s head. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Kyu-chan~” Tendou hummed. “Our dear captain’s new little friend!”

“Kyu-chan?” Goshiki repeated loudly. “Who is that? Is she close to Ushijima-senpai?”

“...she’s the captain of the kyudo club,” Shirabu said, blinking in recognition. “I see her passing out flyers to the lower grades. She and Ushijima-senpai are friends? Are they classmates?”

“Something like that,” Tendou said. “Waka-kun is a bit of a fan.”

“Of kyudo?” Shirabu looked over in mild surprise. “I didn’t think Ushijima-senpai could look at any other sport beside volleyball.”

“Well, something like that too?” Tendou touched a finger to his chin, feigning ignorance. “It’s more like he became a fan of the sport as a result!”

“Of what?” Shirabu continued, raising a critical brow.

“Kyudo?” Goshiki said. “What’s that?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, looking done with the wing spiker’s nonsense. Goshiki gaped in disbelief, quickly turning to Tendou who’d rolled over onto his stomach, watching the sight of you and Ushijima in amusement, as though it were some kind of television soap opera.

You said something to Ushijima, shoving a plastic bag his way. He took it calmly with one hand, holding it tightly at his side as he said something else to you. Tendou watched a dumb sort of laugh touch your lips and you shook your head, waving to Ushijima over your shoulder as you headed off to your own practice.

Ushijima watched you go, waiting there until you disappeared from sight. He held the bag at his side, waiting a second longer before he turned back toward the gym.

“Ah,” Tendou said, “young love.”

Shirabu’s grip on his ankle slipped and Goshiki choked, the two of them looking at Tendou in almost disbelieving horror. “ What? ”

---- ----  ----

"Ushijima-san brings the game to a match point now with that finishing serve. His powerful strikes are yet to be received by the opposing team. His statistics are still on the rise and he might just be able to finish the set with another service ace, bringing it up for — ”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to admit it. Maybe a couple months ago you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it, because it would have left an unfairly foul taste on your mouth, reminding you again that there was perfectly good reason for Ushijima and his team to be receiving the kind of publicity and acclaim they did.

But now… well, sure, Ushijima wasn’t a bad guy at all. You might even say you were sort of acquaintances now. Maybe friends. To an extent. He was a bit awkward, blunt, and sometimes hard to talk too if you didn’t figure out the nuances in his rather simple and earnest approach—that still rubbed you the wrong way from time to time but what was life without some disputes—but the evidence was glaringly obvious.

Ushijima Wakatoshi worked hard. Terribly, frighteningly so, in the same way that you could understand with every new ache of your wrist and pull of your bow, straining to push and push and rise higher and higher. You noticed it in his runs, in his practices, and now, even sneaking a quick watch of a few of his highlights online, which lead to an endless spiral of watching several more taped games of his performances.

He dedicated himself to volleyball the same way you did to kyudo. You were both hopeless causes for these things you were willing to give your all too.

You replayed the last point again, watching huddled up on the bench as you waited for the lunch bell to ring. You’d had to tape up your wrist today, finally giving in to Ushijima’s persistent, dull-tone nagging. You’d go easier on practice too, just this once, since he seemed to adamant about it. Just this once.

“Many will be disappointed if you can’t shoot.”

I mean, I can’t let my fans down, right? Heheheh...

The announcer started speaking in your ear and you followed Ushijima across the court, watching him toss the ball up for that killer serve again. I know how it ends but I still get anxious watching this.

“(L/n)-san.”

You let out an inhuman screech, phone flying into the air as your limbs spazzed out. Ushijima blinked once, calmly catching your phone before it hit the unforgiving floor and holding it in his grip as he waited for you to calm down. You wheezed, slapping your chest to make sure your heart was still in it, cheeks flushed red as you gaped at Ushijima in disbelief. “U-Ushijima! You scared me! Say something next time!”

“I did,” Ushijima said, only mildly confused. “I said your name.”

“Louder!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. He grabbed your dangling earbuds and paused, turning your phone screen over.

His own face looked back at him, impassive and collected.

You slapped your phone out of his hand, letting it hit the floor with a clack. Ushijima blinked once at it and then looked back at you. You heaved, cheeks flushed a bright red as you stuttered, practically shouting, “It’s not what it looks like!”

Ushijima bent down to pick up your phone.

You quickly scooped it and shoved it into your pocket, completely frazzled. Ushijima considered the now empty spot in his hand before looking back at you, completely unfazed.

“We were seeded for Inter-High this year,” Ushijima said calmly. “Next month we’ll play. Would you like to come then?”

“Who said I wanted to watch your stinking game?” you snapped, cheeks till bright red as you practically hissed at the towering young man. Ushijima’s face remained almost expressionless, almost, but he simply waited for more words to come out of you, as they always did. “When is it? In a month? Maybe I’ll come! Maybe!”

“I look forward to seeing you there,” Ushijima said. He glanced back down to his hands before looking over at your bow strapped to your back. “Your beginning preliminaries don’t allow for outside spectators.”

Stop saying it like you mean you’ll come if it were different! You waved Ushijima off. “Yeah, yeah, but we’re making it past prelims so you can come to the official tournament.”

“You’re confident,” Ushijima said.

“Of course I am! What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

Ushijima’s hands shifted to his sides. He gazed down at you, expression almost light. No, no, no, you’re just imagining things. “I look forward to watching you then.”

“Check your calendar first,” you muttered. “You don’t even know if you’ll be able to come.”

“I will attend, if it is alright with you.”

This guy is really something else! You ran a quick hand through your hair, fighting back the furious flush of pride that threatened to overtake your features. Ushijima started saying something else, calmly talking about how he felt your form improved lately, but he had yet to see so for himself. You can’t help but think about how he’d opened the gym doors for you, allowing you to take a peek into their harrowing, rigorous volleyball practice schedule simply because you were a bit curious and—

You’re not sure what possessed you next.

“You can come if you want,” you said suddenly. “To practice today.”

Ushijima paused, looking back to you. You finally met his gaze, rubbing the back of your neck. “Since you like it so much, right? Kyudo. I can… you can try it, if you want. Just this once.”

(Y/n) I think you’ve completely lost your mind, maybe you really are practicing too hard after all and —

“If it is not a hindrance to your performance,” Ushijima said. “I will come.”

You scoffed, scuffing your foot along the floor. “What, you think I’m gonna choke?”

“No,” Ushijima said.

“You know, would it kill you to give me something to work with for once—”

“If you intend to watch more matches, please watch our match against Itachiyama,” Ushijima said, after a pause.. “It was where I received my ranking. My performance is… better, during that match.”

“Please stop talking.”

--- ---  ---- ----

A round of terrified gasps and gargles from your fellow club members was about the best warning you got that Ushijima had finally made his appearance at your kyudo hall, right as rain, bright and early like he promised.

The poor first year who’d been the one to open the door looks downright terrified, face pale at Ushijima’s towering figure now blocking the doorway into the entrance hall. He gazed down at her, the top half of his face nearly obscured until he lowered his head slightly in a fearsome bow.

“Good morning. I’m sorry to intrude.”

She gaped, staring in disbelief at his appearance while the other girls had all turned and then made equally disbelieved faces, eyes round and popping out of their heads.

“H-Hey, (Y/n)!” your vice captain hissed. “I might be going crazy, but isn’t that Ushijima standing at our door? What’s the boy’s volleyball team captain doing here?”

“Are they trying to run us out?” one girl gasped. “So they can expand the gym?”

“They’ve come for our kyudo hall!”

“Captain, please do something!”

You know, maybe a few months ago you would’ve thought exactly the same. You sighed in amusement, crossing your arms over your hakama as you exited the shooting range and set your bow down against the wall. Who would’ve thought?

“It’s fine guys,” you said, waving to your club members who gaped at you. “I invited him over. Ushijima wanted to see how a kyudo practice went. I promised I’d help him shoot one round.”

“Captain—”

“Invited—”

“Ushijima-senpai—”

You walked over to Ushijima, looking up at him with your hands on your hips. He seemed to take in your formal kyudo attire with particular care, reaching up to his chest and setting his hand down on his black shirt and shorts, his volleyball jersey hanging over his shoulders. “Is the attire required?”

“Not this time,” you said with a grin. “We probably don’t have a uniform that fits you anyways. Come on in.”

The girls around you continued to gape in disbelief. Ushijima bowed to them once more, politely taking off his shoes and bending down to make it into the hall without hitting his head. He rose to his full height below the arching wooden beams, calmly taking his jacket off as well and slinging it over his arm as he followed behind you, trudging like a massive shadow.

You secretly took note of his mannerisms in the hall, curious about whether or not you’d need to correct him for this or that. To your disturbed surprise, Ushijima found himself at perfect ease in the completely formal setting, properly shifting to the side to stay out of the presentation range and moving in even, clear steps across the floor.

He looked to you, waiting for your next instructions. It was almost cute, like a giant, big dog.

Almost.

“We’ll match you with a bow and show you the practice movements,” you said cheerfully, getting a little pumped up about teaching someone for the first time in awhile. Not to mention a total newbie to the sport who was a god in his own—truly a bit satisfying for your ego. “Then we shoot, just a bit.”

Ushijima nodded, his expression settled into one of ease. You stopped just short of grabbing the unstrung bows, blinking in surprise.

Did he just smile?

---- ----  ---  ----

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this with my own eyes.”

“I know! It’s the Ushijima-senpai. I thought he was some kind of scary giant!”

“I heard he’s cold to everyone else! He glares at anyone who comes close!”

“Did you hear? Apparently he comes from a super wealthy, really well-off family! And he’s gifted! He’ll go pro for sure!”

“Why’s he here with senpai then?”

The first and second year girls all shared looks, frowning at each other before they peered around the corner of the sliding doors into the shooting range.

The height difference was pitifully apparent when you stood beside Ushijima, hands on your hips as you loudly and carefully instructed him on what he’d need to know to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. The obvious pride and ego in your stance seemed to make up for any height difference though, as Ushijima patiently craned his head down and listened to you, holding the bow and arrow in his hands.

You eagerly touched your own bow, showing him in exaggerated motions the stances, shuffling backwards to show him how you knelt and then stood, coming to stand in shooting position. Ushijima listened to all of this with obvious attentiveness, following your every motion and nodding, asking a quiet question once or twice.

Your juniors made eyes at each other, nervously peering around the corner.

“Is this something she’s doing to show kyudo is worth attention?”

“Is it a fight? Do you think he challenged her to a fight or something?”

“But if it’s senpai, wouldn’t she be the one challenging him to a fight? She’s been so worried lately about new members…”

Your vice captain observed the two of you in silence, arms crossed over her chest. She carefully considered Ushijima’s attentive stare, the quiet and swift way he moved to follow your motions, coming always to stand beside you unless you shooed him back to make another demonstration. Her eyes finally tracked back to Ushijima’s bag hanging in a small visitor cubby, neatly folded bags of energy drinks and protein bars with two boxes of cut fruit—one wrapped and the other one not.

“Can you believe who I ran into trying to get that drink you told me to get? That jerk all over our school!”

The drinks sitting in Ushijima’s bag were the ones she’d told you about all those months ago.

“I think,” she said. “It’s going to be okay… probably.”

Your juniors gaped in disbelief. Your vice captain shrugged.

“The nice thing about archery is that it doesn’t really matter if you shoot right or left!” you said amiably, growing more and more excited as you showed Ushijima the correct position for a left-handed archer. “Not like volleyball, right? The ball goes a totally different way. Arrows always fly straight if you shoot it right.”

Ushijima’s hand flexed against the bow. He gazed down at you. “You noticed.”

“Well, duh , who couldn’t tell what hand you’re hitting with? Anyway, you’re lucky I can actually shoot crazy good with both, here, this part gets easier.”

You stood right beside Ushijima, hardly even coming up to his shoulder. His eyes were focused on the top of your head for a moment, gazing at the crown of your hair before his eyes shifted to your hands, small and calloused as they reached for his and you molded yourself against him. Your eyes were shining as you guided his hands against the bow, showing Ushijima how to pull the string. You pressed your fingers into the crook of his elbow, squeezing to draw him back and lightly touching the small of his back to straighten him out.

He could feel the whisper of your heart against him, the light pulse like the flutter of the net after a strike into its side, shaking its hold.

“There,” you said softly, pulling back with a grin. Ushijima’s gaze turned over his shoulder to look down at you, properly taking in the way your hair framed your cheeks, how your eyes brightened, more and more, as though being here could make you invincible.

The way I feel on the court.

“Now if you just pull and release like I taught you,” you said gently, touching his wrist one more time and then mimicking the action with your own arms, copying his left-handed stance. “You’ll be golden!”

Ushijima carefully considered his form, focusing intently on the arrow and the target that seemed an entire court away. It was reassuring, in that sense. It wasn’t hard to envision the power he’d need to send a ball that far. The arrow and bow in his hands were rather different, fragile yet stiff when he pulled, bending and bending but not breaking.

“Don’t hold back,” you said right by his side. Ushijima’s eyes met yours over the bow and he took in fully then, the sight of your eyes, burning. “We can handle more than you think.”

Ah.

Ushijima never took his eyes off you, firing off the arrow, shooting straight into nothingness.

Your eyes quickly shot to where it landed. You laughed, shaking your head at where the arrow hand landed, just a few inches from the target into the sand. “Hey! That’s actually not bad for a first time—guess even you can’t get it on the first shot though, right?”

The grin on your face was flooded with pride, cheeky as you laughed, turning back to him and picking up your bow. Ushijima followed the curve of your lips, disappearing into a smile, the crinkle of your eyes. “Here, here, one more time! I want to see the Ushijima Wakatoshi give kyudo another shot, or even a dozen more!”

You raised your bow, grabbing your waiting arrow as you went through the foot motions and stopped. “Maybe you can get a little good—then I’ll gloat to the whole world that a nationally ranked volleyball player learned kyudo from me , right?”

“That seems unnecessary,” Ushijima said, watching your arms, your hands, your body coil like a practiced, well-oiled machine.

“Publicity!” you said. “Help me out here, would you? Kyudo isn’t as loved as volleyball, you know. Look, watch how a pro does it.”

He felt something stir in his gut at your words, lurching.

You copied his stance and turned your gaze forward. Ushijima looked behind him when he sensed a sudden hush fall over the hall, your juniors watching in rapt attention as you pulled your arrow back and adjusted your entire stance.

Your eyes zeroed in on the target. You exhaled.

The light in your eyes never seemed more fierce.

With a resounding clap the arrow shot out from your fingers, as though guided by the wind. Your hair blew out from your face, coiling backwards. It slammed dead-center into the target.

Ushijima felt again, the stir, quick and fervent in his gut. His grip on the borrowed bow tightened as you gazed at the arrow, smoothly holding your bow at your side and then you turned to him. The memory of the television flickered through his head, the garbled, clear words growing louder as he faced you and your eyes focused on him, bright.

“Maybe we could make an archer out of you just yet,” you laughed, rubbing your chin as you observed Ushijima’s own charm as he held the bow. “In our uniform you’d really look like you belonged here. You’ve got the poise for it.”

“...but?” Ushijima said, sensing the continuing hang of your words.

“But,” you agreed, propping your chin up as you nodded to yourself. “Yeah… you really do look better on a volleyball court, you know?”

Twang! Twang!

He’d always thought they were a bit similar—that sharp, satisfying sound that always left your bow when you shot and the sound of his hand connecting with the ball, sending it just right through the air.

Ushijima let the stir in the pit of his stomach flood his chest, calmly seeping down to the tips of his fingers as he gazed at you.

“Let’s give it one more go. Next time you can show me how to spike if it won’t rip my arm off—”

“(L/n)-san,” Ushijima said, his voice like a low rumble. Your juniors flinched at the back of the hall and you simply hummed in response, looking back at him. “Thank you.”

“...you’re welcome,” you said amiably, laughing a bit. “If you like it so much, you can come when you’re not busy—”

“I like you, (L/n)-san.”

Your juniors froze. Your vice-captain’s eyes bulged from her head. You blinked, grinning at Ushijima.

“Yeah, I know, you dork. You’re my first and biggest fan! Were you just blown away about seeing my shooting in person?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said. He properly turned to face you, eyes heavy, expression set. You suddenly felt a suspicious chill curling up your spine, forcing you to blink at him with wide, confused eyes. “I like watching you shoot the best.”

Ah, see! Nothing to be worried about. What was I even thinking in the first place? Your juniors sighed in relief behind you. “I know! I really am the—”

“But you,” Ushijima said, completely and utterly calm, voice clear as water, “are what I like the best as well.”

For once, you committed one of the gravest sins—your bow clattered to the floor. Your face turned pale in disbelief, color slowly starting to color it back in soft red as it came up from your neck and to your face. The entire kyudo hall went silent at Ushijima’s words, resounding like an echo.

“Uh… yeah, I mean… um… what’s that supposed to… mean?”

Ushijima continued, without missing a beat, merciless—

“I like you,” Ushijima said. A heartbeat longer and he added, calmly, “I want to be with you.”

Thud!

“S-S-Senpai’s collapsed! Someone call a teacher, we’re being attacked!”

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

Two Years Ago

Ushijima Household

“Wakatoshi, I believe this young lady attends your academy as well.”

Ushijima calmly looked up from the steaming cup of tea placed carefully in front of him. The usual quietness, the faint stuffiness that resided within his grandmother’s studies and quarters was still prevalent to this day as he joined her for her afternoon tea. The attendants had already been dismissed, waiting outside the hall to bring in lunch once his grandmother was ready.

His legs itched to shift in their resigned position, a sensation he was training himself to forget. These were small, trivial things he had no business entertaining. Once he stepped onto the court, it would mean nothing.

The large television set was fixed to a low but clear volume. Across the screen, an array of young people were being presented in an orderly fashion across a kyudo hall. His grandmother was always watching their segments, but the time slot had changed to coincide with their afternoon tea.

She talked less about his future during these moments now, since the kyudo channel shifted time. He felt, in a childish, small corner of his heart, grateful for that.

“Do you intend to play volleyball beyond your studies, Wakatoshi? There’s more beyond the sport for you within our family.”

His mother had already informed him to consider saying the correct words to placate his grandmother. Ushijima did not know what those words could be. Not if they involved anything other than volleyball.

His left hand twitched over the top of his lap. Ushijima faintly followed the announcer’s words, trying to find what it was his grandmother had meant— there.

A fierce young girl glared hard at the expanse in front of her. Her hakama clung tightly to her body, hair pulled back and out of her face. He wasn’t familiar with her, not personally, but he had a vague sense he might have passed her on more than one occasion after practice—the kyudo hall on campus was close to the volleyball gym.

It was a final shoot off, according to the commentator. His grandmother watched with rapt attention, quietly commenting that she was fond of this girl from Shiratorizawa— she shoots like she means it. He’d never heard his grandmother speak in such a manner over any kind of sport.

Ushijima watched the screen with newfound interest, a touch critical. Kyudo was a quiet sport, not the kind that received acclaim the way volleyball did. He’d never once considered himself partaking in it though he harbored no ill will.

“There,” his grandmother said. “Watch this now, Wakatoshi.”

Ushijima watched you through the screen, your stern, serious face matching that of your competitors as they set up their shot. Their arrow fired, hitting the mark barely off from the center sphere, it seemed it was practically center. The commentator announced what this meant in the shift of points and that you would have to score consecutive kaichus once more to take the entire competition back. Full marks. You had to hit dead center to make up for your team’s single miss.

You moved, elegant and poised. He could understand why his grandmother liked you. You matched all her tastes.

His left hand curled, tighter against his lap.

And then you smiled.

Ushijima felt the world slow, silence flooding across the screen.

Your arrows fired off—again, again, and again. Each time you greeted the shooting range with a smile and left it with a frown, as though the parting, only seconds long, was already too much for your heart to bear. Your opponent remained unfazed, serious, but you smiled each shot, hitting dead center, dead center, bullseye.

The commentator’s voice was flooding with rapt emotion, though they tried to stay impartial. Everyone’s eyes were on you, a second commentator a touch critical over your confidence, hinting arrogance in your grin.

No. Ushijima wanted to correct, almost immediately, entirely entranced. Not arrogance. Not baseless confidence.

You loved it. Kyudo. Shooting—

Every last bit of it.

For a second the screen blurred. Ushijima saw the other end of the court, the ball connecting with his palm, his own lips barely turning up into a near breathless smile, almost fierce—

He wanted to play.

“Good,” his grandmother said. “She will advance next year. If she participated in the individual tournaments, I’m sure she’d do much better. She keeps playing for a team, such a shame.”

“(L/n)-san, it seems as though you were born for the sport!” his eyes quickly turned back to the screen. In an instant the crowd had cleared and you stood, calmly holding your bow as a commentator got your final words on the march. “You’re a true prodigy. What words do you have for any aspiring archers?”

(L/n). Ushijima thought. (L/n) (Y/n). A prodigy? He could imagine so, with the beautiful way you shot. It was as though you were made for the bow.

“I’m not a prodigy,” your voice cut, shooting straight through Ushijima and forcing his complete and utter attention back onto you. “Don’t get me wrong, I think plenty of people are born for this. Maybe you could say I was, if that’s how you want to see it. At the end of the day it’s work though, lots and lots and lots of it.”

You faced the screen, eyes shining, boring straight through Ushijima, as though speaking solely to him, even though you possibly couldn’t be.

“It’s luck,” you said, “I’m lucky nothing’s happened to keep me from being here. I’m lucky my parents haven’t tried to make me stop. Yet, at least. I just got lucky. Kyudo found me. It’s all luck.”

“Ushijima, why do you think we get to stand on this court? People like us?”

Because we’re—

Ushijima felt his chest tighten. His pulse raced, hard against his skin. The itch to move, to run, to play flooded through his entire body. He felt it all, simply by looking at you—the urge to play volleyball a hundred, a thousand times.

“There’s unrest that youths your age will have to focus more on studies instead of pursuing kyudo as a profession. Many find that as a sport, it does not hold up to — ”

“No way,” you said, looking offended. “I’m doing kyudo until I die.”

Ushijima imagined it then, his ball shooting across the court like an arrow, his spike sailing through the air, the same way your arrow pierced the target.

“Now, Wakatoshi,” his grandmother began. “I hear your career forms are going about next year. What exactly will you be writing on yours?”

“...volleyball,” Ushijima said, clear, resounding. His grandmother raised one fine brow, but he faced her, poised, polite, unyielding.

“I will continue playing volleyball.”

He’d remember your name. He’d remember you. If possible, he’d thank you as well. You both attended the same school—a chance would surely come.

For the record:

- The kyudo club ended up getting their funding, enough to see them through for several more years. You came to Ushijima (your boyfriend of one month) sobbing buckets over it and pawing at his jacket while he calmly rubbed your back and congratulated you. The donation was an anonymous one from a rather prestigious family familiar with the school.

- You come to the rest of Ushijima's games, your team makes it through prelims and he gets to watch you through the finals for your prefecture and has plans to go watch you at nationals.

(Spoilers for the latest chapters of the manga, proceed with caution or just end it here if you don't want to see the last headcanon!)

- Romero comments about the cool archery that Ushijima watches in his down time in the locker room. Hoshiumi and Kageyama mumble in surprise that someone like Ushijima could be interested in anything other than volleyball. Ushijima admits it was a very important person he became a fan of first before the sport. "I admired the athlete and then found myself watching."

"Wow, that's unexpected," Hoshiumi took a seat beside Ushijima on the bench. Romero continued to watch over his shoulder, clearly intrigued by the Japanese form of archery style. "Is this woman a pro?"

"Yes," Ushijima said, showing them the screen. Kageyama glanced over, catching the hint of pride in Ushijima's normally settled tone. "She's the best in Japan. She will be at the next Olympics for archery as well, even though she prefers this."

"I've never really watched archery," Kageyama said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I've grown to admire it," Ushijima said. "I'm mostly a fan of the athlete."

"Who is she?" Hoshiumi said, squinting at the screen to look for a name. A wide, bright grin came over your lips and you thrusted your bow into the air. "What's her-"

"She's my girlfriend," Ushijima said calmly, without missing a beat.

Kageyama blinked, looking stunned. Hoshiumi's eyes bulged out of his head. They both looked at each other, jaws dropping.

"She's beautiful!" Romero laughed, clapping Ushijima over the shoulder. "Wakatoshi! Congratualtions! When's the wedding?"

Ushijima looked mildly bothered by the topic. "She says we're still too... young. I don't entirely agree."

"I get you! I get you! Some advice from a married man, you have to reel them in and..."

- You sneezed before the final round, shaking your head with a frown.

(Hope you enjoyed!)

[crimson-mage-02]

Justice League Dark: Apokolips War

A/N: I hope you all like it! There are more to come!

@chromium7sky @ravenalghul @ravenfan1242 @oursweetescape @damiraestan @damirae-week @damnshipper, @pillsofpink, @grassfour and to all Damirae shipers!!

Summary: Set during and after the ending of Justice League Dark Apokolips war, after succeeding to destroy the Apokolips and defeating Darkseid. The Justice League and members from the Teen Titans left to the ruins of the Titans Tower and Earth until they found a way to go back to the things were. 

Damian and Raven both sat closely on a rock with Raven laying her head on his shoulder watching the sun rising up from the horizon. She breathed out and in, feeling free for the first time from her father’s hold. She knew he was pure evil, but deep inside, he loved her until the end. She looked over at Damian whose eyes were glancing over at his brother who was laying down on Kori’s lap.

She had this sad frown on her face as she held on his hand that was placed on her arm. He gasped a little and he looked into her beautiful, deep dark purple eyes. His face softened once he looked at her. And he took in her new appearance with her white cloak. He slowly took off the hood from her head and saw her long black hair flowing down out of her hood.

Damian smiled at the beautiful sight of his beloved right beside him. Her long silky hair was blowing in the wind softly and noticed her gem was missing. He looked at Raven who had smiled contently, making him realise she was free from her father thanks to Constantine who gave him a slight nod.

“So, how do you feel, beloved?” Damian asked softly as he caressed her cheek.

“I never felt so free in my life. He is finally out of my head.” Raven replied as she leaned into Damian’s gloved hand. “So, what now?”

Damian sighed heavily and looked into her eyes. “I don’t know. I could go back to the League of Assassins with Titus. If you don’t want to come with me, I do understand.”

“No, no, Damian, I’d love to. I’d love to go with you.” Raven said with a loving smile with Damian looked at her surprised to hear that she’ll go with him. To stay with him. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be with you.”

Damian just smiled and let her lean her head on his shoulder, savouring the moment between them with the sun shining in the horizon as he looked into the clear sky with a small smile as they both mourn for their fallen fellow Teen Titan friends.

From a far, Batman had seen the sweet tender moment between Damian and Raven. He sighed sadly with Diana putting a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “There must be another way. To fix all of this.”

“But there is no other way, Bruce. We cannot change what has been done.” Diana said sadly.

“The Justice League never quits. We never quit. We can still save our planet. Even if it costs our lives.” Clark said, trying to lift up others hope as they all looked at him.

Constantine looked over at Flash who was sitting hopelessly, all alone. He went over to him with a cigarette in his hand. “You know what to do, mate.”

“I promised Iris before she…” Flash sighed heavily and looked down at the ground. “I can’t. Everything would change. Again.” He felt Constantine’s hand on his shoulder and looked up at him.

“And some of those changes may be shite and we may make same mistakes again.” Constantine said to him. “But I think I can help. Just to make some other changes.”

Flash smiled hesitantly as he stood up with the run rising. He got ready to run to make changes with Constantine chanting a spell, mumbling some words underneath his breath. He took a deep breath and looked into the sky. “I’ll see you again, love.”

He finished chanting the spell as Flash had started running into the horizon on the clear blue water with everyone on the shore watching. They all stood tall as they were ready to see those changes he had altered in a new timeline. Clark sighed softly as he watched the light shining brightly and stood with his two friends. Everyone watched the light shining brightly, hoping that everything would soon change, but it will not be the same.

Raven looked over at Damian as she looked into his eyes. Damian looked into her purple eyes and leaned in for a passionate kiss with the light shining brightly. They both held onto each other tightly and pressed their foreheads together with tears rolling down their faces knowing their universe will be forevermore erased.

Constantine had finished casting his spell and looked at the sky with him smelling the fresh air and the wind blowing his face, he had done it. He had done the right thing to do for his teammates, his friends and his love.

(~)

Damian was shifting in his bed while he heard beeping from his phone. He groaned irritated as he reached to get the phone and turned it off. He sighed lightly and went back to sleep again until he saw something wasn’t right. He got up and saw he was in a room. Filled with picture frames and some katana swords hanging on the walls. He assumed it was his room, but then he saw two luggage near the door. He raised his eyebrow in confusion until he felt a hand on his back. He turned to his right and saw Raven beside him.

“Damian, are you okay? Is something wrong?” Raven asked, caressing his cheek. Seeing how shocked he looked and how confused he was.

“Did—How—What is going on Raven?” Damian asked as he grabbed her hand.

“What do you mean?” Raven asked as she sat up covered herself with the covers as she ran her hand through her long black hair. Damian noticed she was covering most of her body and then looked at himself. His eyes widened, realizing he was naked. He quickly covered himself and cleared his throat. “Damian, you haven’t answered my question, what’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare again?”

Again? “Uh, yeah, something like that.” Damian replied reluctantly as he laid back down on his pillow. What the hell is happening here? First, we defeated Darkseid and returned to Earth, I saw the light shining brightly, me and Raven sharing our last moment. Then this happened?! What is going on? I need to talk to Constantine, wherever he is.

“Well, let me know if you start to have nightmares again, we can meditate together like last time.” Raven said as she rubbed and laid on his back, put kisses on the nape of his neck that sent him chills.

Damian saw Raven was going to get change as she got her clothes from a closet. He noticed there was a League of Assassins uniform can be found. His eyes widened in shock. “Are we in…. the League of Shadows?”

“Yes, you figured that the team could use a larger training area, so we went here.” Raven said. “You are sure acting strange. You sure you’re okay?”

“You really don’t know what has happened?” Damian asked carefully.

“Hmm, to be honest, no. But I know you’ll tell me when you are ready.” Raven smiled as she gave him a small kiss before leaving to change into her clothes.

Damian nodded slowly as he got to change while thinking of what has happened. She may not know what has happened. All he knew was that maybe Flash or Constantine had done something with their reality’s timeline. He doesn’t know if anyone could tell what has happened. He quickly got changed and got out of the kitchen and saw Titus was still sleeping with dog food beside him.

Damian walked around the room and then spotted something on the wall. Looks like a newspaper framed. He looked at it in shock as he saw the headline, made by Lois Lane, who is now alive in this new timeline.

DARKSEID HAS BEEN DEFEATED BY A TEAM OF SUPERHEROES AND SAVED PLANET EARTH

Damian ran his hand through his hair in shock and then saw another photo frame. It was him and Raven in front of the Titans tower. Both of them were smiling and noticed she was wearing her white cloak and had her long hair above her waist.

Then there was a knock on his door with Titus waking up growling. “Titus, calm down.” Damian commanded softly as he opened the door cautiously and saw his friends and teammates.

“Hey, Damian, we were wondering if training is still going?” Jaime asked.

Damian stood in shock to see his friends were alright. But it appears that they don’t seem to remember anything. Nothing at all. It’s good, right? “Uh, actually, why don’t you ask Kori? She is our leader, is she not?”

“Uh, dude, you hit your head or what? You’re our leader.” Garfield corrected with a light chuckle.

What? Kori was the leader not me, right? “Ah, right, then maybe we could have a day off. Just to be ourselves for the day.” Damian suggested.

“Wow, that is generous of you.” Jon said with a smirk. “It hasn’t been that long you’ve given us some time off.”

“Oh, spending time with your girlfriend? That’s sweet.” Donna smiled as Damian put on his rarest smiles and heard Raven was coming out in casual clothes with her hair down.

“So, no training I take it?” Raven asked with a smile as she greeted the others.

“N-no, no training today.” Damian shook his head.

“We could go to the carnival! We could go there for team bonding as a celebration of our anniversary.” Garfield suggested with a grin as he looked at Damian with a smirk that annoys him. A lot.

“What?” Damian asked in a very annoyed tone seeing his teammate was getting closer to him.

“Unless, you want to stay here with your girlfriend?” Garfield teased as he made kissing noises with Damian’s eye twitching in annoyance, but Raven held his hand to calm him down.

“Knock it off, Gar, I promised Donna and Terra that we go shopping.” Raven smiled with Damian’s eyes widened in shock.

“Wait? Terra?” Damian questioned in confusion.

“Who else would it be, team leader? Sorry, I came in late. I had to save some citizens in the city. Ready to go? Away from the boys for a change?” Terra asked with a smirk as she came to Gar’s side. Damian looked at her in shock, remembering she was supposed to be dead and that she had betrayed them. He saw how close Gar and Tara were. I thought Tara hated Beast Boy? Or maybe… So, Flash and Constantine did some few changes to this new timeline.

Raven noticed he has been acting strange and wanted to get to the bottom of this. “Yeah, I’m ready. Rachel, you ready?” Donna asked her with a smile.

“Yes, I’ll meet you at the gate. I’ll be there. I need to talk to our fearless leader for a moment.” Raven smiled as they all left them alone in their shared quarters. As the door was closed, Raven looked at Damian with a concerned look.

“Are you sure you are telling me the truth? You sure you are okay?” Raven asked him softly as she caressed both of his cheeks with Damian holding him and leaning into her touch.

“I-I will tell you soon. I just need to do something first before I go with the boys.” Damian replied. “I’m sorry. There’s something in need to take care of. I’ll come back and explain everything when I get back. I promise.”

“Okay. Don’t be late for dinner.” Raven said with a smile as they both kissed softly on the lips before leaving.

(~)

Later that day, Damian drove his motorcycle to the Wayne Manor and stopped in the front of the staircase. He got his helmet off and marched up the stairs with Alfred opening the doors. “Master Damian, how can we be of help? Is Rachel well?”

The young man sighed in relief to see Alfred was alright. Alive and well. When he left for the League of Assassin, he heard Alfred was dead. Killed by Parademons. “Master Damian?”

“I-I’m good. All good. Rachel’s alright. She’s with the girls.” Damian replied. “Where is father? I must speak with him. It’s urgent.”

“It is a coincidence I must say. He wanted to see you as well.” Alfred said to Damian who looked at him. “You know where he is.”

Damian nodded and went down to the bat cave seeing the computers was on and some papers on the table. He looked at the chair and saw his father was looking at something on the screen. He was reading the newspaper and watched the news that Lois Lane was reporting about the Apokolips.

“Father?” Damian called out to him.

“Damian? Glad you could make it. I am sure you are aware of the changes around you.” Bruce spoke up as he faced him as the young man walked down the stairs.

“Yes, I have. But Raven doesn’t seem to remember anything at all.” Damian said as he rubbed his eyes. “Then I saw all of my friends, saying I am the new leader and saw Terra alive! She was supposed to be dead!”

“I know this is all overwhelming, Damian. I did see many changes all over the world. It appears that Constantine and Flash had changed something in this timeline. Made alternate changes. The Justice League is back to normal. The Titans are alive as well.” Bruce said.

“So, where is Constantine?” Damian asked.

(~)

Somewhere in the Justice League headquarters, Constantine was smoking a cigarette thinking how he had changed their timeline. They had defeated Darkseid managed to save the Earth with the help of Flash. He couldn’t still believe it.

But again, he was happy to spend the rest of his life with the only one person he loves. Zatanna. She was back. She was back in his life and in this new changed timeline. But still he could not forgive himself for leaving her behind. He just froze, paralysed with fear. “Hey, John, you alright?” Zatanna asked worriedly.

“I am fine, love. Just relieved.” Constantine replied as he took out his cigarette.

“Oh? May I ask why you are relieved? This morning you looked shocked. Did you have a nightmare?” Zatanna asked as she rubbed his shoulders.

“Well it was hell of a nightmare, but in the end. It was all worth it when I saw your face.” Constantine replied with a smile and they both leaned in for a kiss. Everything was perfect. He had saved and brought back everyone with the Flash. And had heard they both brought back some other people in their lives again.

(~)

Raven was looking at her drink while thinking of something in her mind. Terra glanced over at the empath and sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite. What is wrong with you, Rachel? Is everything okay with Mister Muscles?”

“Hmm? My relationship with Damian is rather going well.” Rachel replied. “Nothing is wrong except he was acting weird. Like this morning.”

“Very weird. Did he tell you what was going on?” Donna asked curiously.

“He did say he’ll explain over dinner.” Raven replied as she drank her milkshake. “It’s funny. I had this strange dream last night. It was almost like we were in some kind of end of the world.”

The two girls looked at each other while Donna was explaining she has that same vibe. But can’t explain what really happened during the dream. It seemed vague. And there were some things left unclear. “Yeesh. Apokolips? Wow, does sound like the end of the world to me.” Terra said as she heard glass cup shattering from Raven, seeing her milkshake dripping. “Rachel, whoa, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just felt a sharp pain in my head. Sorry.” Raven replied. “And strangely it is gone.”

Terra and Donna both raised their eyebrows in confusion until the boys texted them if they all want to go to the carnival while Damian and Raven have their dinner. “So, we have done shopping, it’s time to go the carnival for our anniversary as Teen Titans.” Donna whispered excitedly, making sure their cover aren’t really blown. Terra chuckled with Raven smiling as she got her phone in her hand, seeing her wallpaper of Damian.

(~)

Raven went back to her quarters and saw Damian was waiting for her at the dining table. She smiled a bit and approached him, greeting him with a kiss on the forehead and sat on his lap. “How are you feeling now?” Raven asked as she played with his hair.

“To be honest. I was all over the place. Or way over my head.” Damian chuckled. “But other than that, beloved, I am feeling better.”

Raven smiled and leaned in for a soft kiss on the lips then pulled away. “But you didn’t explain why you were acting weird this morning.”

Damian had a feeling she would say that. Then he had an idea. “Look inside my head.” He grabbed her hands and plant them each of his temple. “I trust you.”

Raven looked at him for a few moments and then nodded in understanding. Trusting him as she closed her eyes and looked inside his head. She could hear screams. The horrid screams from the Justice League and the rest of the Teen Titans. It looked like the end of the world as Donna had said earlier.

Everyone they ever know and loved, were all killed. The whole city was ruined. All ruined. Set in flames. All buildings were destroyed. There was death and destruction everywhere. Reminds her of Azarath.  She saw herself was weak. Really weak, until she saw Damian by her side. He was smiling lovingly at her as she stared in his emerald eyes. The next thing she saw was him saving his father from Darkseid. Then she revived him and donned her white cloak after his revival. It was a warm feeling she had felt from seeing that sight. It was love. Pure true love she had felt from Damian. She felt all of his feelings he felt for her.

She opened her eyes and looked at Damian. He looked into her purple eyes after she was finished seeing what had happened when the timeline had changed. “Wow…. Damian... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t know have to say anything. I’m just glad you’re here. With me.” Damian smiled as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Me too. I’m glad that the two of us are together.” Raven smiled as she looked at the time and saw it was almost dinner time. She was thinking they could cook something together.

“Say, why don’t we skip dinner and join the others?” Damian asked with smirk.

Raven laughed a little with an amused smile. “Hmm, I like the sound of that.” Raven replied.

(~)

Gar was winning something for Terra but failed. He tried the game over and over again. Jaime hit him on the head. “Dude, enough! If you waste you money again, I won’t give your more to play the game.”

“And there are plenty of other games we could play.” Wally pointed out.

Gar groaned in defeat and then Terra comforted him with a kiss on cheek. “Don’t worry, chuckles. I’ll win something for you instead.”

“So, where are the lovebirds?” Wally asked.

“They said they’ll have dinner together.” Donna answered his question. “How romantic. It is so obvious that Damian has feelings for Raven from the start when I first arrived.”

“Yeah, no kidding, they have been spending way too much time together.” Jon said as he rolled his eyes. he turned to Jaime who looked at everyone. They all seem to pair up.

“We gotta get a girlfriend.” Jaime said as Jon nodded in agreement. Both were desperate for a girlfriend. Jon and Jaime felt a bit left out since everyone seemed to have a girl with them. Wally and Donna seemed to be getting well.

“Uh, you kidding? I could see it so clearly that they do have a thing for each other all this time.” Terra said with Gar putting an arm around her shoulders.

“And all of those missions together, they always get paired together.” Jaime said with a smirk. “Also, spending too much in each other’s room in the tower.”

“I thought you all do mind your business by now.” All of the titans all gasped softly when they heard their leader’s voice. They all turned around to see Damian and Raven in the carnival with them.

“Rachel! Damian! I thought you two were going out for dinner.” Donna thought as she came and hugged Raven. “You know on a date?”

“Well, Damian and I thought it would be great if all of us spend some time to celebrate our anniversary. All of us, together. We wouldn’t miss all of the fun.” Raven smiled as she held Damian’s hand.

“Oh yeah! I do what that rematch.” Garfield said with Damian shaking his head with a smile. it was good to see his friends and he saw his brother, Dick and Kori were spending time in the carnival as well. He watched his friends were shouting to find a new game to play.

He felt Raven was pulling him with her to play a game with a bright smile on her face. They all played different kinds of games. Gar and Jaime were trying to beat each other in a water gun, Donna nearly crushed a stall with her super strength. Terra just simply played a game and had won a prize for Garfield when they were trying to catch a fish in a net.

Damian and Raven just shared a cotton candy together just like when they first met. And then they walked along the path until they stumbled across the mirrors and she laughed seeing Damian’s large ass on the mirror just like before. Damian nudged her on the arm, making her see herself on the mirror having a skinny body. They both laughed while they went to see some more games to play.  

Then Garfield has been begging Damian to do a rematch in the dancing match when he first arrived. Everyone cheered on Damian to dance against him until he gave up and did the dancing match with people watching and cheering on them.

Raven was smiling happily to see that Damian was having fun. Like actually having fun. Jaime and Jon were betting on Damian to win while Terra was cheering on Gar to beat their leader until he got exhausted and their leader won. “Oh, well that was brilliant.” Terra said sarcastically.

“Well, at least they are having fun.” Donna smiled.

“Or maybe Gar was just tired and let him win.” Raven smirked with Terra mumbling about something.

“So, what do we do next?” Jon asked everyone as they heard the announcer saying that the fireworks show is about to start. Everyone cheered as they all lined to the Ferris wheel to get a better view in the sky.

Garfield and Terra were sitting close together to see the stars and see the constellations up in the sky. Wally and Donna were just looking at the sky with smiles on their faces while Jaime and Jon were left behind down below.

“At least, they are all happy.” Jon said softly.

“Yeah. Let’s get ourselves some food or a drink.” Jaime sighed softly with him noticing how glum he looked and sounded.

“I thought you were going with Traci?” Jon asked with a grin.

“Shut up! She said she was spending time with her family. Besides, I don’t want her to miss out on family time.” Jaime explained.

Damian let Raven lay her head on his shoulder, watching the stars together. Before they were young awkward two teens and now, they’re together. Nothing can tear them apart. They were finally together. “Feels like old times.” Raven smiled.

“Yes, it does.” Damian said as he kissed her head and laid his head on hers. “There is something I need to ask you.”

Raven looked up at him as he seemingly looked away. “Damian, if this is about what I saw in your head. It was all in the past. We can finally move on.”

“I know. It’s… It’s about something else.” Damian said.

“Oh.”

“Well, I did ask you to join me in leading the League of Assassin during that time. You refused and I just left you. I don’t want to leave you alone. Never. I’ll stay by your side and I’ll always will, Raven.” Damian said as he held her hand.

“So, what are you saying?” Raven asked.

“I know we are still young teenagers. And legally 18 years old. All I am saying is. Raven, when I first met you. I had these overwhelming feelings for you. I tried to shake away the emotions, but I couldn’t. Over time, I never ignored it. I had fallen in love with you. Deeply.” Damian confessed with Raven smiling at him lovingly.

“So, all I was trying to say is that Raven…” Damian grabbed something in his pocket and shown her a black box. Raven gasped in shock. She had tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “Will you marry me and make me the most happiest man in this whole world? Be my beautiful bride?”

Damian looked at her lovingly as she cried and then kissed him passionately with him wrapping his arms around her. They both pulled away with Damian asking with a smile. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course, silly.” Raven replied as he put the ring on her finger. It has a red and purple crystals placed on the golden ring. It was their uniform colours. She loved it. She loved the ring. And she loves the man who she is going to spend the rest of her life with. “I love you, Damian.”

“I love you too, Raven.” Damian replied as they kissed underneath the stars and the fireworks playing in the sky. Seeing more beautiful colours with the stars twinkling as they all gasped seeing a shooting star.

[sinerelynarnia]

Fighters To Lovers (2)

~Aaron Pevensie, the sibling who stayed in Narnia, the one who’d rather fight in a war and die with honor then sit in school and learn about a war without fighting in one, infected with a curse, causing her to live forever, becoming the burden to herself and never loving again

Word Count- 1696

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“Well what are you gonna do about it, you stayed to keep Narnia safe right!” One of the centaurs shouted stepping up tall and facing me as we stood around each other, in another one of the meetings that ended in hate.

“I stayed in protect Narnia yes, not to rule Narnia, whatever happened with Telmarine, i’ll deal with it when it happens, as for the Scavengers I don’t think they’ll be coming back,” I huffed standing up. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss well we’re out here having a war between each other?” I asked the room looking around, everyone stayed silent. “I’ll see you all around the castle then,” 

I walked out clenching my fists and feeling the anger that coursed through my body, Peter and Susan were the ones to deal with it, I was the middle child, the rebul, the one who didn’t have to listen to the rules.

“I choose to stay in Narnia, it’s my call to make the rules,” I huffed turning around and facing my most loyal knight, McAlester Klan. “You tell me this after ever meeting, and I wouldn’t go back to my world in a heartbeat, i’d rather be here, then sitting at a desk learning about a war,” I huffed staring to undo my hair.

“I know princess,” McAlester huffed walking over towards me. “You really should get that checked out,” I looked down at the blood stain on my dress.

“Just a minor wound,” I lied knowing nothing was there. “I’ll just it check out in just a mid, would you go prep my house, I think i’d like a nightstolle by myself,” I asked undoing my dress.

“Yes my princess,” 

“Don’t call me princess please, it’s Aaron, if you could tell your guards that too for the millionth time,” I huffed hearing the sound of my door close. “Thank you,” I whispred slipping my dress and corset off and letting myself breath.

I looked down at my bloodied stomach, looking around for a wound hopelessly. “Can you just give me a break,” I mumbled letting my hands loose and laying down on my bed. “Just let me die already huh,”

“Princess, your steed is prepped!” I heard McAlester shout from down below my window, I smiled forgetting my pain and drapping a robe over me and running downstairs with only leggings and a undershirt covering myself under.

“You don’t have to worry about me you know,” I chuckled grabbing my sword and drapping myself over my steed. “Don’t I always come back fine?” I teased.

“You always come back with some sort of enjoying, don’t stay out to late now princess, it’s my duty to protect you, Aaron,” McAlester said, I smiled and tapping my steed, sending us off into the forest, determined.

We flew off into the forest, jumping over fallen trees and turning corners, the wind blew into my face and I just smiled, feeling free, a rare thought in my mind, knowing I could never be free from the curse that I bardoned myself to be.

“Woah woah slow down,” I hushed pulling on the rains of my steed, coming to a complete stop. “Thats the horse I had seen earlier,” I whispered, watching a identical black steed to my white one, eating grass. “Where has your master gone?” I asked jumping off my horse, wrapping the lead around the tree and walking towards the black steed.

Rushing in the bushes snapped me out of my transe, I turned around drawing my sword and turning around, watching the bushes move all around me.

“Princess it’s only me,” Trufflehunter said coming out of the bush with bandages in hand. I relaxed my body and let the tension leave. “There's a Telmarine here, I thought you should come check it out, Nikabrik has him,” 

“Show me will you,” I asked grabbing the reins of the black steed and mine as well, following Trufflehunter through the bush. “I had seen him earlier, I actually came out looking for him,” 

“Well we’re right here, be careful princess, won’t your kingdom worry about you being gone for so long?” Trufflehunter asked.

I turned around and waved at the trees. “Send for my kingdom please, let my knights know i’ll be gone for the night but i’m safe, but please don’t mention where I am,” I asked the tree, the leaves formed and flew behind us towards the kingdom. “I make the rules,” I chuckled walking into the house.

“Aaron what a lovely viste,” Nikabrik said smiling and standing up. “I could make some tea if you’d like,”

“I’d like that, I could bangae the Telmarine up, wouldn’t want you guys getting in harm's way,” I suggested, Trufflehunter passed me the bangaes and pointed to the room. “You didn’t make it to far did you,” I whispered sitting myself down on the bed and unrolling the bandages. “When you wake up you’ll be sent back to your kingdom, you’ve caused enough trouble,” 

I finished wrapping the boys head and walked out, sitting down on a soft cushion placed with Trufflehunter and Nikabrik. “How did he get here?” I asked taking a sip of my tea.

“That boy was being chased by guards, the took Trumpkin,” Nikabrik said munching angrily on a sandwich. “You’ll get him back won’t you?”

“I will bright and earlier, bargain for a bargain,” I smiled leaning back against the wall. “It feels nice not to spend the night in the castle, i’d rather be free, roaming around Narnia,” I chuckled taking another sip.

“Princess,” Trufflehunter said then paused. “Aaron, he had this with him, he blew it,” Susan's horn was held in his hand. “Do you think they’ll come?”

“Hopefully, it’ll be my chance to do what i’d like,” I chuckled leaning back. “They’d probably me grateful to see me you think, mad that I hadn’t come back with them, confused that I hadn’t aged a day,” I laughed rubbing my forehead.

“That’s the curses of this land for you, i’m sorry that I couldn’t find anything that’ll help you, nothing in my books had a curse for immortality,” Nikabrik hummed feeling bad.

“Don’t worry about it, i’ve lived with it for three-hundred years, what more can I do,” I chuckled finishing up my tea. “I’ll take my place on the couch, you two stay safe okay,” I helped myself up and walked to the couch that laid in the room where the boy was sleeping. “Don’t worry, he can kill me,” I laughed taking myself out of the room.

“Hey Aaron,” Nikabrik said, I turned around and faced him. “You know the kingdom is clueless of you, i’ve heard them speaking well they roam the forest, they just think your like Aslan, not immortal but alive with magic, that could be changed in a heartbeat,”

“I wish it was like that Nikabrik, my life would be less stressful,” I chuckled leaving the room and placing myself onto the couch, I pulled the blanket down and positions myself to face the boy, awaking at any sound.

The morning came quickly, and the muffled sounds of the boy woke me up, I shot my eyes opened washing his move. 

“What the?” The boy mumbled touching the bandages on his head, Nikabrik and Trufflehunter muffled voices were heard from the kitchen, I closed my eyes when the boy looked my way, opening them up once again.

I stood up quickly, taking form and following the boy, I watched him look at Trufflehunter in confusion.

“Well it’ll be to late to kill him now, and plus the princess wouldn’t like you killing guests now would she,” Trufflehunter said, the boy darted for the door, getting blocked by Nikabrik.

I smirked watching him grab a poker and point it at the pair. Placing my sword down on the ground I jumped on the boys back wrapping my arm around his through and using my legs to bring him to the ground.

“Okay okay okay,” I hisses tapping his hand against my arms, I lost my grip, pushing him to the ground taking my sword off the ground and pointing to his chest.

“Who are you?” I asked stepping on his chest. “Why are you here?” I asked raising my eyebrow.

“I’m Prince Caspian,” Capsian, what his name was, raised his hands in the air. I loosened my posture. “My uncle, he’s trying to kill me,”

“Princess Aaron,” I placed my sword down and placed my hand out infront of me. “Your uncle, i’m taking a guess that the baby was a boy,” I asked looking at Caspian.

“I’ve got to go, go back and fight,” Caspian said looking at me. “My uncle made the guards shoot arrows at my bed, i’ve got to tell my father,” 

“Let me accompany you, I can stop the war that is about to occur, and I don’t think you’ll be able to walk so far on your own, without your steed,” I smiled looking outside the window, both our steeds laid asleep in the forest.

“You found him,” Caspian smiled. “It’s nice to meet you princess but we both have kingdoms to go back to, go back to your,” Caspian turned around walking out of the hut, I quickly grabbed my sword and followed him.

“My kingdom won’t need me, you’ve blown the horn haven’t you, my brothers and sisters will be here, they could do it, I insist on coming with you,” I huffed untying my need.

“No offence Princess but your not dressed for the occasion and I wouldn’t want you to die on my hands,” Caspian jumped on his steed, looking at me as I copied is action, covering my undershirt with my robe.

“You’d be surprised at what I could take, i’m coming with you,” I demanded, Caspian shed a smile and took off, I nodded at Trufflehunter and Nikabrik then took off. “No offence Prince Caspian, but i’ve never seen you around,” I yelled riding beside him.

“I could say the same thing for you Princess Aaron, i’ve never seen you before, how do I know your telling the truth now,” Caspian teased.

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me!” I yelled toggling the reins, causing me to move forward, faster than Caspian, I smiled as we raced through the forest together, it was about a day trip from Tremarine from Narnia.