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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years

Note

pls do part two of “you're everything you once hated” 🥺

Alright! I originally wasn’t going to do a Part 2 of this but a few people have asked so here you go! 😙

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. OC, Ann, Tatta, Hatter, Kuina)

Summary: You attempt to escape Niragi to replenish your visa by yourself, but he catches you and makes sure you won’t do it again

Warnings: (okay here we go) blood, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, obsessive themes, suggestive themes, graphic violence/torture, needles, being held hostage, deranged behaviour, reader is traumatised, implications of a panic attack, dehumanisation (kind of?), mention of amputation, mention of suicide, guns, knives, reader sees a corpse, minor character death

Word Count: 4.6k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: this is quite heavy and messed up, so I recommend people under 15 don’t read this

The young man leant against the large building, holding a small rose in his sweaty palms as he waited for you to arrive from your after school class. He winced as the thorns slightly caught on his olive skin. He sighed and craned his neck back to rest on the wall behind him. No matter how much he attempted to distract himself, the rate his heart was beating kept bringing the nausea to his stomach.

The sky was painted a soft mix of orange and pink as the sun began to fall asleep below the horizon. Valentine’s Day couldn’t have created a more romantic atmosphere for Niragi, he couldn’t mess it up now or he would let cupid down himself.

“What the hell am I even doing?” he questioned himself, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist. “She probably doesn’t even see me this way. We’ve been best friends for years, if she felt something she would’ve told me by now, right?”

He was stressing himself out, continuing the doubt whether his idea was good or not. He was considering dropping the rose and just walking away, being too afraid of the reality that he had been in love with you for years and had never been able to voice it. He felt embarrassed about himself, making his head fill with insecurities and doubts.

His phone vibrating in his pocket pulled him from his thoughts. Niragi reached into his blazer and pulled out his device, noticing a text from you.

‘I’m on my way,’ it read.

He heard your footsteps around the corner and straightened himself up, letting out a sigh to relieve tension. He knew there was no going back now, so he had no choice but to go ahead with his confession.

Just as he was about to turn the corner to meet you, he noticed a male voice that echoed yours, making him freeze in his tracks. He kept himself pushed against the wall, trying to listen to what you were saying.

“I mean, movies are cheap at the moment. Do you want to go see one together?” Niragi heard the boy say. His heart sank at the males words and his hand holding the rose fell from his chest to drooping towards the ground.

Your voice, that was all too familiar to Niragi, answered him. “Sure! I’m busy this afternoon, but I’m free this weekend on Saturday.”

Saturday. Niragi frowned. You and him always went to the park together every Saturday to have a picnic together. You wouldn’t forget about that, would you?

His disappointment turned into anger suddenly. The exhilarating emotions filled his mind and heart so quickly, it took him off guard. As his hand twitched slightly, he shook his head to remove the thoughts from his head.

“Okay, I’ll send you a text later to talk about times and stuff,” the boy said. Niragi’s curiosity got the best of him and he peeked his head around the side of the building to catch a glance of who you were with. He wished he didn’t.

It was one of the young kids that picked on him in Science class, which you weren’t in. Niragi felt betrayed, but tried to reassure himself that you just didn’t know what this guy was really like.

“Bye Y/N,” the boy muttered shyly, making Niragi fume at his fake behaviour. ‘He obviously is just trying to get in her pants,’ Niragi thought to himself, jaw clenching in annoyance at your blindness.

The boy leaned close to you and left a soft kiss on your forehead making you smile and wave happily as he walked away. As soon as he disappeared up the stairs a few metres up, Niragi leant back so you couldn’t see him.

He felt tears building in his eyes, so he quickly wiped them away before you found him. He jumped as he saw you turn the corner, hiding the rose he held behind his back.

“Hey Niragi!” you exclaimed, having the same gorgeous smile that you always conveyed around him. Usually the small action would make him melt into the ground. But at that moment, he didn’t think anything you did could make him feel better.

“You okay?” you asked, leaning close to his face with your eyebrows raised. His heart beat picked up, noticing how your lips were only a few inches away from his. He turned his face to the side, hiding his blush. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” he lied through his teeth.

As he kept up his innocent façade, small droplets of blood slowly drizzled down his wrist from the tight fist enveloping the thorned rose. His confined anger flowed through the blood that spilled from the cuts in his palm, but he didn’t feel a pinch of pain through his tensed muscles.

Perhaps one day, the world would give him another chance to show his love for you.

***************

You woke with a start as someone busted through the door of the room, looking around in a panic at who would enter so suddenly. Your eyes widened as you caught sight of Niragi, stumbling into the room with his usual sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry love, did I wake you?”

You stayed silent, sitting up properly and watching his movements closely. You didn’t trust a single thing he did or said, so you still remained on high alert whenever he was in this room alone with you, despite the fact you had been sharing the room with him for three days.

“You getting hungry? I brought some food up last night for you while you were asleep,” he said, placing his rifle on a small table. You watched as it collided with the wooden surface, flinching at the loud noise.

You hadn’t been able to leave the room since your injury. You had been shot in the foot by an overly sensitive militant woman who you weren’t even sure was still alive after the beating Niragi gave her in front of you. His behaviour during that time alone was enough to you terrified, especially the fact that it is impossible to run from him now.

But the lack of movement on your foot has proven to help and you have noticed the bullet wound healing quite well. The ointment and bandages you apply regularly on it (no help from Niragi) has been working perfectly, and you were praying for the moment you could move your stuff back to your own room and escape Niragi’s unpredictable and psychotic behaviour around you.

As if he read your mind, Niragi spoke up. “How’s your foot? Is it getting better?”

The sweet tone in his voice was so contradictory to his intentions. You hated the fact that he thought you fell for his fake façade. To be honest, he probably knew you didn’t believe him, but continued with it to keep you on your toes.

You glared at him through the top of your eyelids, keeping your head low in suspicion. As Niragi sighed from your unresponsive behaviour, he strutted over towards the bed that you were laying on. You panicked and used your arms to push yourself away from him, being terrified of his presence alone. Spending only a few days with him was enough to make you realise how despicable of a human being he actually was.

“Shh, calm down. It’s just me,” he attempted to calm you.

You froze as he sat on the bed nearby your legs. A pained expression grew on your face as he slowly lifted your injured foot to place it gently on his lap, running his hand carefully over the bandage you had applied before going to sleep.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, glancing up at you. You shook your head no, watching as he smirked slightly and turned back to it.

“I’m going to have a look at it,” he demanded, beginning to unravel the bandage on your foot.

You remained still, watching as he was unusually careful. It made your adrenaline run rapid, not knowing when he was going to suddenly snap.

As he pulled the final layer off your foot, relief filled you when you saw that it was still fine. The injury had turned into a small hole in the top of your foot, no blood or redness in sight. Maybe perhaps you could walk again soon, and be able to replenish your visa that was due to end in a few days.

Unfortunately, Niragi wasn’t as happy about this knowledge, and he intended to do something about it.

“Hmm,” he hummed in thought, leaning over to the night stand and picking up a small unwashed needle that he had kept there. It was left there by Ann a few days ago, as she had to come to the room to stitch up a cut that Niragi had obtained during a game.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him holding the needle close to your bullet wound. “W-Wait, Niragi,” you stuttered, nervous about his intentions. “What are you doing?”

Niragi glanced up at you, a devilish smirk painted across his face. His expression made your stomach churn and you attempted to pull your leg from his grip. Your heart rate picked up and you began to panic when he refused to let go.

“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt much. Just... try not to scream.”

Just as you were about to protest, Niragi pinned your foot onto his lap and pushed the tip of the needle as hard as he could into your bullet wound, making you let out a silent scream and thrash in his hold.

You screamed and screamed and screamed, a horrific pain continuously shot through your foot to your leg. You swore at some point it felt like he was cutting your foot off.

“NIRAGI!” you wailed. “STOP! PLEASE!”

You begged and begged through your cries of pain. After what felt like a century, Niragi pulled the needle out of your foot slowly and placed his hand over the wound to attempt to stop the bleeding. You were now lying on your back, sobbing lightly into the sheets and given up.

You felt Niragi caress your face with the back on his hand lightly. “My little princess needs to stay here, where I can keep her safe. You can’t leave. There’s horrible monsters at The Beach and I would hate for you to fall prey to one of them.”

You felt like screaming at him. How could he be so blind, so ignorant. He was the monster, and he failed to realise it.

He placed your leg off his lap, making you let out a small cry. Niragi crawled further up the bed next to you and sat on the sheets. You were facing away from him, not even daring to turn to look at him. You could hear him unbuttoning his checkered shirt, seeing it fly over your frame and land on the floor. A shiver made its way up your spine as Niragi’s hot breath hit the nape of your neck and his warm limbs snaked around your torso. He placed his hands underneath your shirt and softly caressed the skin of your stomach whilst nipping at the skin on your neck.

“You’re so pretty. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you over these years.”

His words sounded so loving, so sweet. But your reaction was the opposite of what he wanted. A slow, sorrowful tear traveled down your face and you began shaking in his embrace in fear of having him so close. You wanted to close your eyes and wake up back home, back in your own bed with your family’s hushed conversations spread throughout the house. This wasn’t home, this was absolute hell.

“Why are you shaking? Are you cold?” your tormentor asked. He removed his hands from underneath your shirt and pulled on your shoulders to make you turn over to face him. You kept your eyes shut tight, refusing to submit to his demands.

He pulled you close once again and placed his hand on the back of your head to push your face into his bare chest. Niragi’s usual smell of blood and metal filled your nostrils, making you grimace against him.

You continued to shake, not being able to control your movements. Niragi sighed, tucking his chin on the top of your head and nuzzling into your hair, taking a breath of the all too familiar scent of the shampoo you’ve always used for your hair. How you managed to find the exact one in the Borderland was beyond his understanding.

The smell made him feel at home. The comfort he found in you was too strong for him to handle, making him become deranged at the thought of you being back in his arms. It scared him, how much he actually depended on you to keep him happy.

And while he continued to hold you close and smile happily at the feeling of your soft breath against his chest, he failed to notice the continuous flow of tears that cascaded down your face and the shaking of your hands that gripped the top of your own thighs violently, trying to realise the tension of the adrenaline in your veins.

************

You had had enough.

Niragi did nothing but put you through absolute torture and trauma no matter how much you attempted to reason with his psychotic self. Bruises littered your body from his usual violence, committing to the awful promise that he was going to make sure you couldn’t leave the room.

You were imprisoned. It felt as if you were trapped in a cage that had the easiest lock in the world to pick, only you didn’t have hands to unlock it.

So two days after the needle incident, you decided you were going to escape, even if it killed you.

You had to replenish your visa, considering it ended the next night. You feared that Niragi would just leave you to die, not caring about your visa, so you had to take it upon yourself.

You may have had an infected bullet wound and a nearly crushed spirit, but you weren’t going to let this be your end. You had to at least try.

*************

“Oi, I’m leaving now,”

You shifted your eyes from your hands resting in your lap to the tall, deranged man who stood at the door of your room. He had his usual black and white buttoned shirt on, charcoal hair tied up at the top to keep it out of his face and his relaxed hand tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. You almost felt disappointed. How could such a handsome man be wasted by such a horrific mentality.

He carried his loaded sniper rifle in his arm, fiddling with the trigger as he awaited an answer from you.

You nodded your head and turned back to your hands, twiddling your thumbs nervously. You stayed frozen as you heard his footsteps make their way over to you.

Niragi lifted your chin with a harsh grip to your jaw and smashed his lips onto yours. You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort, feeling his desperate lips bite over yours hungrily. It made you feel sick to your stomach.

He pulled away, your lips connected by a string of saliva, making him chuckle. “I’ll be back kitten. Maybe I’ll bring you back a present,” he suggested, raising his eyebrows.

You nodded once again. You knew what he meant. Perhaps an amputated hand of one of your friends? Or the eye of a seeker/hunter to remind you of the “monsters” he’s hiding you from? At this point, you were desensitised to it.

The feeling on his lips on your head brought you from your thoughts. He softly stroked his hand through your hair, tucking slightly on the ends, making you wince.

“Stay here, and don’t answer the door if someone knocks.”

And with that, he left. You stayed completely still for a few minutes, waiting in case he decided to come back just to torment you further.

After you were sure he was completely gone, you shifted to the edge of the bed and swung your legs over the edge to stand up. You had practised walking around the room on your injured foot for the past few days when Niragi wasn’t there, so you had grown used to the random aches that shot up your leg from your bullet wound while walking.

You waddled to the door, slowly swinging it open and grabbing the small knife that sat on the table nearby. You had to have some kind of weapon in case something was to happen.

As you stepped outside, a few people were still making their way down the halls towards the lobby. You noticed a young man that you had somewhat befriended when you first arrived at The Beach named Tatta. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, a smile growing on his face.

“Y/N! Where have you been?!” he exclaimed excitedly, running to you and throwing his arms around you in a playful embrace. You grimaced at his loud voice, being afraid of a certain someone potentially hearing him say your name.

“Hey Tatta,” you said back, giving him a right hug. You swore you felt like you could’ve cried in his arms from how deprived you were from normal human interaction without the fear of being assaulted.

“Are you coming to the games tonight?” he asked, pulling back from the hug and keeping a hand on your shoulder. You nodded. “Can I stick with you?” you asked with hope in your eyes. Tatta smiled and hit your arm lightly. “Of course! I’d feel better going with someone I knew.”

You agreed and began walking down the hall towards the lobby together in a comfortable. Tatta failed to notice you being more cautious, checking around corners before you turned and whipping your head around to glance behind you every now and then.

************

Just your luck, a ten of spades. You swore the world just wanted you dead. At that point, you had become used to the never-ending bullshit that was thrown your way.

You clawed your way to the table that held the card. Holding the single piece of cardboard between your fingers had never felt more satisfying. You slid down against the wall near the registration area, limbs shaking from the muscle strain you faced during the game. Tatta knelt in front of you, rubbing your knee in an attempt to comfort you, but nothing he could do would make you feel better.

Back at The Beach, you sat in the lobby on one of the leather couches, rubbing your foot to try and ease the aching pain coming from your wound. You had heard when you arrived back that the executives had called a meeting, so you weren’t too worried about running into Niragi.

You closed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, rolling your head back to rest against the couch. Moments like that were complete bliss. For a moment, you were able to forget your current situation.

A sudden hand on your shoulder ripped you from your meditation, and you turned your head to see none other than Kuina with a red face and heavily breathing from running. “Hey Y/N,” she started. You sat up and turned around fully to face you.

“The executives want you in the meeting. They heard you collected a high number card and they need you to deliver it.”

Your heart dropped at her words, realising what was coming for you. You had to walk into that meeting room, where Niragi stood. He was going to find out about your little adventure you had without him knowing. Adrenaline filled your senses from the thought of what he was going to do to you.

You slowly stood up, wiping your sweaty hands on your shorts and checking your card was still in the front pocket. You gulped heavily and nodded to Kuina. “Okay, I’ll head there now.”

Every step towards the meeting room was another towards hell. The more stairs you climbed, the more nausea filled your stomach, the more thoughts filled your head. You were seriously just considering throwing yourself off the roof of the hotel, as that seemed like a better option than facing Niragi.

You arrived in front of the double doors, freezing in your path. You don’t know how long you stood there, sighing shakily and attempting to crack your knuckles to relieve tension. But still, as you lifted your hand to push on the large wooden door, your arm shook like a leaf.

You trudged in, hearing the room fall silent at your entry. You refused to look up from the ground, keeping your widened eyes locked to the carpeted ground until you reached the end of the table.

“Ah, Y/N. Finally! Care to show your card?” you heard Hatter ask. You glanced up and caught sight of all the executives gathered around the table on chairs. One of which was of course Niragi.

You locked eyes with the psychotic man, and your stomach dropped when you saw the scowl on his face. He was staring directly into your soul, eyes hardened with anger and unforgiveness. If looks could kill, you would’ve been on the floor dead before you even made it to the table.

You focused on the task at hand and pulled the card from your pocket, placing the somewhat damaged ten of spades on the table. Hatter reached over and held it close to his face to examine it as everyone watched. Well, everyone except Niragi, who held his piercing gaze on you. You swore you could feel him burning holes through your skin.

“Hmm,” Hatter hummed in approval. “Thank you very much Y/N, that will be all,” he said, making a shooing movement towards you.

You nodded and thanked him before quickly walking out of the room. As soon as you stepped out, you broke into a sprint towards you and Niragi’s shared room.

You had to leave the room before the meeting finished. You feared the absolute worse.

When you arrived at the room, you ripped open the door and scrambled inside, groaning at the pain your foot was in. You didn’t have a choice, you had to hurry.

You made your way to the large closet, immediately reaching for the top shelf to pull down the miniature machine gun that Niragi stored up there as a spare. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to know about it, but you managed to spot him tucking it underneath the clothes at some point.

As you were shuffling around the cupboard trying to find some bullets desperately, annoyed and stressed sighs and gasps leaving your mouth, you froze when the sound of the door opening hit your ears. Immediately assuming the worst, you grabbed the door of the cupboard and closed yourself inside, attempting to enveloped yourself in the piles of clothes and resources.

The keyhole in the door of the cupboard allowed you to have a small space to look through. You closed one eye and glanced through the hole, spotting Niragi placing his sniper rifle on the bed and untying his hair, running his hands through it in stress.

You didn’t dare even breath, keeping all your limbs tucked close so you didn’t knock over anything. You were so afraid that Niragi would even hear the sound of your heart beating, as it was as loud as a drum in your own ears.

You grimaced as a sudden putrid smell filled your nose. The smell of fresh flesh that you were all too familiar with from living in the Borderland. You turned around in the cupboard and moved to the side so the light of the keyhole would at least somewhat illuminate the small space. The sight in front of you was enough to make you throw up.

There sat Tatta (or at least, Tatta’s remains), empty eyed and leaning against the back of the cupboard. Bullet holes littered his once kind face, probably counting eight at least. You covered your mouth in horror, letting out a loud cry at the sight, pushing your legs against the ground to scramble away from your dead friend.

Once again, just like the other day during the needle incident, you screamed and screamed and screamed. You fell backwards out of the closet, curling into a small ball and screeching into your palm in horror at the now clearer sight of your friend’s corpse.

Everything was crumbling around you. Your voice was being ripped to shreds at the back of your throat. Your mind was falling apart, not being able to handle the traumatising events that you’ve faced, breaking and tearing itself apart. Your body was broken. Bruises and scars scattered your frame like an artwork, each one holding a connected traumatic event.

Niragi sat on the bed, watching as you screamed on the ground over by the corner of the room, tears sliding down his tanned cheeks.

What had happened to you? Why did you change so much in these few years?

Niragi slowly stood and made his way over to your shaking frame, hooking his arms underneath your shoulders and knees to lift you bridle style. He smiled sadly down at your shivering frame, not being able to control your rapid movements.

“Aw baby, you’re a mess,” he cried, a sob escaping his mouth halfway through his sentence.

He brought you back over to the bed, crawling on his knees to the centre of the mattress and crossing his legs to lay you in his lap with your head tucked into the crook of his elbow.

He brushed your hair with his fingers, trying to ease your breathing as you kept your eyes tightly shut in fear. “I tried to warn you. Look what happened,” he chuckled through his tears, motioning his head over towards the cupboard. “Do you like your present? I saw you walking with him on your way back to the hotel and thought it would be perfect. Why don’t you like it?”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him with fear all written all over your face. You didn’t dare move from his embrace, being too afraid.

Niragi smiled as he caught sight of your glistening eyes, reaching a hand up and stroking his thumb along your cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he breathed out, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

You brought your shaking hands up and rubbed your face before finally speaking up. “I want to go home,” you desperately whispered, turning your head and pressing your face against Niragi’s clothed chest. He watched as you brought your hand up and gripped the material of his shirt in your fist tightly, conveying anger and stress through your grip.

“You are home kitten,” he states, rubbing his cheek against your head. “I’m your home. I always have been.”

He wasn’t lying to you, and that was the pill that was hard to swallow. Niragi had been your source of comfort for so long, and for once in your life, it felt foreign to lay in his arms and to look into his night eyes.

Oh how weird it felt to look at something that conveyed such sweetness, such delicacy and such empathy, only for it to be utterly ruined by its environment.

You’d like to think that it wasn’t either of your faults. But in the end, it doesn’t depend on the environment, it depends on how you react to it.

Neither of you were perfect, but you were both incredibly different. It never would’ve worked between the two of you, and being in the Borderland did nothing but strengthen that fact. In the end, your differences would either tear you apart from each other emotionally, or you would tear each other apart limb from limb.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I’m back to finishing off the fanfic requests that have been sent to me because I finished all the prompt scenarios. I won’t be doing another part to this because I honestly struggled for so long trying to figure out a plot for this one 😭 But anyway thanks so much for your patience. I’ll be uploading these fanfics as quick as I can! ❤❤

Small addition to this fanfic talking about Niragi’s motives and intentions

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland one shots #alice in borderland scenarios #alice in borderland x reader #aib #aib imagines #aib imagine #aib one shots #aib scenarios #aib x reader #niragi #suguru niragi #niragi imagines #niragi imagine #niragi one shots #niragi scenarios #niragi x reader

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sokkastyles · 3 years

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In your last post you talked a lot about how Zuko respects Iroh. Could you give some examples of that? Because I'm feeling like Zuko doesn't really respect anyone, he (understandably) has an ego and thinks he's above everyone, even if he's working on

It is such a shame that Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005) was cancelled after two episodes.

Lol, now that I've got that out of my system, I'm gonna assume you aren't just a troll and treat this like you actually want a serious answer, because it gives me an opportunity to meta about Zuko and Iroh's relationship.

I would say that the Zuko we are introduced to has a pretty big ego, yeah, and thinks he's above everyone else. He's incredibly disrespectful to most everyone he meets, including his long-suffering uncle. When I started the show I knew through cultural osmosis that Zuko would get redeemed, and from the first episode I was like "alright, I'm ready to see how the show is gonna make me like this asshole." I especially did have a negative reaction to the way he treats Iroh in the beginning, because Iroh is one of the first characters I loved. I also was sympathetic to Iroh because I'm an adult, and an adult who works with kids. If any of my students said to me some of the stuff that Zuko says to Iroh I'd be like, yeah, okay, detention for you young man.

It's also pretty clear from early on though that Zuko's ego comes from a deep insecurity and low self-esteem. That doesn't make the things he does any better, and yes he is incredibly disrespectful to Iroh, especially when Iroh contradicts him about his mission. That's also related to his deep insecurity and trauma surrounding his father, of course, because Zuko needs to believe that he can win back his father's acceptance to cope with what his father did to him, but that doesn't excuse it.

He says some incredibly nasty things to Iroh. In the first episode we see him respond angrily when Iroh won't teach him more advanced firebending, and Zuko responds, as he does several times, by trying to imitate his father's brand of coercion and intimidation. Iroh is like, not impressed, and he puts up with a lot of crap from Zuko but he also doesn't let it get to him because he's a responsible adult and he wants to support Zuko in the way he can. Which also means telling him off sometimes because dude.

Zuko thinks Iroh is lazy and a failure, and resents the fact that Iroh is keeping him from what he says he is "more than ready" for, and tries to bully Iroh when he doesn't get his way, but then we see in the third episode, "The Southern Air Temple," Zuko's fight with Zhao. We see that for all Zuko's complaining about Iroh's teaching, he does what Iroh taught him to do, he sticks to his basics, and he wins. Iroh says that Zuko is honorable and we see that Zuko appreciates Iroh's support. It's also implied by the way Zhao mentions humiliating Zuko in front of his uncle that Zuko wants Iroh to be proud of him, that it's obvious to Zhao how close they are.

Another example of the show letting us know that Zuko cares more about his uncle than he lets on is when he threatens to leave Iroh behind in "Winter Solstice" but then comes back for him to find him gone, and goes out of his way to search for him, even setting aside his hunt for Aang. Zuko fights the earthbenders to save Iroh and Iroh compliments his form, to which Zuko says Iroh taught him well. This episode does a lot to develop Zuko as a character and his relationship with Iroh because not only do we see that Zuko cares for his uncle, but that, contrary to his rudeness and dismissiveness in episode one, Zuko does respect Iroh as a teacher and a bender.

There's a lot of examples like this where Zuko says one thing but does another, because Zuko is a character who, at the beginning of the story, carries a lot of cognitive dissonance and guards his real feelings about things. His relationship with Iroh is an example. This isn't very surprising because it's pretty common in child psychology. Especially with kids who have been abused, they will rebel against an authority figure and push back in any way they can to see if they can find a breaking point. Iroh's endlessly patient and supportive but solid and firm presence is something Zuko is not used to and doesn't know how to deal with. But it's very clear that Zuko relies on Iroh as a father and mentor, even when Zuko doesn't realize it yet.

"The Avatar State" in another episode that shows how much Zuko relies on Iroh. At the beginning of the episode Zuko is sitting apart and it's implied that he's not happy with Iroh relaxing and getting a massage, but Zuko also opens up to Iroh about his feelings about his father. Zuko also is dismissive and rude to Iroh again in this episode, criticizing Iroh for collecting shells and also insulting Iroh when Iroh contradicts him about going with Azula, but then Zuko is happy when Iroh goes with him to Azula's ship, and we get that flash of the image of Ozai with his hand on Zuko's shoulder. This tells us that Zuko sees Iroh as the kind of mentor figure that he wishes his father were, even if, again, Zuko doesn't quite realize this yet. There are many other examples like this where Zuko is frustrated by not getting Iroh's approval on something because he wants Iroh to be proud of him. Like when he steals the teapot and gives it to Iroh and Iroh is not interested in stolen items. Zuko's clearly hurt by not having Iroh's approval, which is a big part of why he left Iroh, and Iroh knows that Zuko is struggling to find himself but also still needs his support.

Then you have "Bitter Work," the lightning bending, and Zuko's look of total admiration when Iroh is bending lightning and teaching Zuko a move that he invented himself. Like I said before, it's clear that Zuko respects Iroh as a powerful bender. This is also echoed in that scene in the book two finale when Iroh is about to breathe fire and Zuko has this look of "wow my uncle is going to beat you so bad this is going to be great!"

There's also a lot of little stuff in the Ba Sing Se arc that show that Zuko respects Iroh and values him as a mentor figure. He lets Iroh do his hair for his date with Jin! It looks terrible! Zuko has no idea how to behave on a date so he's like um, uncle said to give you this coupon! Look how smart my uncle is! Of course the culmination of that arc is Zuko's fever and his awakening which gives him a renewed respect for Iroh, and he actually makes an effort to show Iroh how much he values him. He still betrays Iroh in Ba Sing Se but it's not the "I hate you and you smell!" thing that the play portrays it as. One of the reasons Zuko was so confused there was because he felt like his uncle was telling him contradictory things, and he couldn't reconcile his uncle's wisdom with what he'd been taught to believe by Ozai.

But it's finally losing Iroh as that pillar of support that makes Zuko truly realize how much he does value his uncle. It still takes him a while to get there, and he again pushes back against Iroh when Iroh won't talk to him in prison and blames him for his own internal turmoil. But when he does finally get there, it's such a slap in the face to Ozai that Zuko on the Day of Black Sun tells him to his face that Iroh is his real father, that Zuko is going to fall to his knees and beg for Iroh's forgiveness, because Zuko has realized that Iroh is the one who really deserves his respect. Not only does Zuko tell Ozai that he, in fact, did not teach him anything about respect, but the respect Ozai tried to get from his son through cruelty and control is something Zuko will freely give to Iroh.

Then Zuko spends the next several episodes constantly talking about how great Iroh is, how much he misses him, how good he is at making tea and telling jokes, how wise he is, and what an ass he, Zuko, had been to him. He follows Iroh's advice and humbles himself because Iroh always said he didn't think things through enough, he works hard to make himself into someone his uncle would be proud of. Then when he does meet Iroh again he asks for forgiveness, but he says that even if Iroh won't forgive him he would try to make it up to him. He's completely humbled himself and it's so satisfying because it's the fulfilment of their relationship arc, and you can feel the love and respect that these two characters have for each other. And it's directly meant to contrast with what Ozai said about respect, because Ozai is full of shit.

And then Zuko just like automatically assumes that Iroh will be the Fire Lord and Iroh's like "Zuko did you forget that you are the crown prince?" And Zuko, bless his heart, is like "but I made so many mistakes."

I'm sorry, but if you're gonna keep arguing that Zuko, at this point, still "thinks he's above everyone else" then you are just being willfully obtuse.

Not to mention the fact that Zuko's crowning moment as Fire Lord is him giving a speech about how he wants to serve others, to heal the world, and even the applause and praise that he, in the beginning, wanted from others is something he doesn't accept. He tells everyone that Aang is the real hero. And Aang is a hero but like, Zuko is a hero, too, by showing heroic qualities like being selfless and humble and caring towards others. And then his last scene is not him as Fire Lord, but serving tea to everyone dressed in Earth Kingdom clothes.

And who does he serve tea to first? Uncle.

#zuko #iroh #atla meta #ozai

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 29 - No Sound but the Wind

Masterlist; Chapter 28

Summary: Stalsk-12.

Warnings: Angst™️, swearing.

Author's Notes: Here we are... at the end of all things. My take on Stalsk took a lot of pain and time to figure out and actually write down so I hope it will be satisfactory. As usual, thank you Shet, for life saving diagrams and patience, as this wouldn't be possible without you.

Still probably 2-3 chapters to go so we're not quite at the end end just yet 😅 With that said, this chapter is as much a finale is it could be. Do hope you'll enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated!

Waking up on the morning of the battle was strange. After the group conversation on the bridge, you and Neil collapsed into the bed, falling asleep instantly. The dreamless night was a welcomed surprise, and so, when you finally resurfaced on the side of consciousness again with the phone alarm ringing in your ears, you felt kind of rested. With the tight schedule, you took no liberty in wasting minutes cuddling and promptly got up, with Neil asking you to join him in his cabin in a quarter for the suiting up. There was no chance in hell you would refuse that.

It was once he left, after a kiss and quick reassurance that somehow it would be alright, the reality dawned with full force. Anxiety settled in your stomach, the nauseous feeling growing with every minute. A strange ache in your right shoulder, radiating down the arm, adding to the rising pile of questions. And doubts. At the edge of your consciousness, a festering thought that would not disappear. What if… what if? The question too terrifying to name, let alone answer.

Desperate for a distraction, you looked outside at the blue skies dotted with clouds, painting a contradictory image to the inside of your mind. At least you didn’t have to worry about the inverted rain… Sighing, you took one last look at the right shoulder and massaged the area with a frown permanently etched onto your face. Maybe it was nothing. With the time nearly running out, you quickly grabbed the battle gear and left the room.

As expected, the suiting up with Neil proved to be the distraction you needed. The moment he opened the door for you, wearing nothing but dark green combat trousers and a matching fitting long-sleeved shirt, your jaw fell slack. Somehow, out of the mess in your head, the only thought that survived was the attraction towards him. Because he looked very good. The shirt complimented his upper body in all the right places, making your eyes widen, overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings. The unbelievable luck and the gravitational pull that always pushed you towards him. And not without reason. Neil instantly caught your wandering gaze, took your hand in his, and pulled you inside the room, letting the door close behind you. The clueless look, checking your sanity from up close, before he asked:

“Why are you staring at me like that?” running a hand through his hair, making the strands stick up in every direction.

Adding to the charm. Stifling a groan building up in your throat, you placed the clothes on the empty chair before turning to face Neil again. Utterly perplexed in his dark green outfit. Stupidly hot. Just… fuck it.

“Because I can’t believe how attractive you are,” stating the truth felt relieving, but still like an understatement, “Like- my god, I-” you huffed, annoyed at both him and yourself.

Passive aggressively, you took off the shirt and pants, taking fleeting pride in how Neil seemed transfixed as well, watching your every move with fascination. Yet, it was much easier for him to shake off the mood and grab the holster. The brow furrowed; coherence lost:

“Seriously?” he was looking at you as though you have lost your mind, thoughtlessly fiddling with the thigh holster.

It was the glimmer of uncertainty that you noticed in his gaze that made you push forward. In any other moment, you would have backed off, pretended the exchange never happened, or responded with a joke to change the subject. But faced with the slightest potential that Neil could be genuinely doubting your claim, embarrassment and pride had to be abandoned. You quickly buckled up the trousers and took a step closer, taking a long look over his body. Your eyes were instantly drawn to all the details that never failed to make you want him. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you nodded:

“Yes. Being this fit is unprecedented,” grinning, you took in his stunned face, letting the frustrations and feelings lead the speech “It’s those broad shoulders and the narrow hips that always distract me when you’re wearing shirts,” letting your fingers skim over his chest and down the stomach in appreciating strokes “Long legs with those thighs… Darling, you’re making that holster look almost illicit” you eyed the accessory encircling his upper thigh with unhidden hunger, the tip of your tongue poking out to deliver the punchline “And let’s not even get to the best part because you know what I think about it” settling your palms on his hips, you grinned wickedly, meeting his gaze.

“What?” Neil swallowed hard, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist.

Still so adorably confused. But now, you could notice the faint flicker of gratitude. And amusement. Might drive the point home then…

“Always knew you’d be a spectacular lover, but Jesus Christ… you’re making me regret half the times when I said no to you before” brushing over his backside and pulling your lower bodies flush together, you teasingly slipped your thumb underneath his shirt.

Taking immeasurable joy in the shallow gasp, he let out upon the simple action. You observed as he slowly shook himself awake, blue eyes searching yours, and then a hand raising to cup your cheek, tenderly brushing over the skin:

“What’s gotten into you?” the outpouring of affection waking up the butterflies in your stomach “Not that I’m complaining, though,” he shrugged, the slight concern tinted with happiness.

With your brain eager to remind you about the terrifying reality and the spikes of pain pulsing through your right shoulder, you chose to dive headfirst into the feelings warming up your chest. You shrugged and covered his hand with yours:

“Adrenaline fucked up and activated the wrong part of my brain. I’ve no clue,” your lips twisted in a hesitant smile, “But I want you, and that’s that” with the free hand, you traced the outline of his jaw.

Running over the stubble on his chin and the fading bruise underneath his ear, light blush spreading over your cheeks at the memory connected to it. It still felt strange sometimes to be this open with him. To speak your mind without fearing rejection or ridicule. To know that the sentiments were reciprocated with equal strength.

“Can we move that to after the battle?” Neil wrapped his arm around your waist, searching your face for clues, “Because now… now I just want to hold you. Kiss you, maybe” the timid whisper tugged at your heartstrings as he ran the pad of his thumb over your lower lip.

A familiar gesture, sparking up the fire and asking for consent. As if he still needed to.

“Maybe?” you arched an eyebrow, latching onto the word if only to make him smile.

Neil grinned, happiness radiating from his gaze as he tipped your chin upwards, syncing up with how you rose on your feet to meet him halfway.

“Certainly,” the murmur laid to rest on your lips.

The slow, gentle kiss, beginning with the tenderest of touches, his lips gliding over yours, carefully igniting the flame. It was as though he wanted to commit it to memory, softly drawing out sighs from your throat with the delicate pecks and ghostly brushes. The texture of his lips getting imprinted on yours, the taste of his kisses becoming a permanent memory. The hints of Earl Grey tinting the tip of his tongue as he finally deepened the kiss, trailing along the outline of your mouth and slipping inside to give you the necessary fix. You tangled your hand in his hair to bring him closer and to feel the strands between your fingers. Running out of air, at last, you withdrew by a millimetre and smiled against his mouth, giving in to the chaste pecks, extending the contact even if for a second. Neil grinned back, his thumb caressing your cheek in soft strokes, eyes showing everything you should need to know. The intimate moment awash with affection, adding meaning to the scene. Holding his gaze, you made sure to return the sentiments with equal strength before you leaned back and took in his lovesick expression.

“Don’t worry, I’ll address all of what you said later… Because I’m flattered” Neil broke the silence at last with a glimmer of gratefulness shining through the blue irises.

You grinned, allowing yourself a rare dose of hope for that later. May it come. Sending silent prayer to whatever god could be listening, you brushed away the hair from his eyes before responding:

“Good, because I meant it,” your eyes roaming over his face, admiring the striking features, “You handsome bastard,” the nickname coming out without hesitation.

How very fitting. Your grin only getting brighter when you saw Neil’s double-take, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion once more, only to be replaced with an uncertain head tilt and a thoughtful pause.

“… that sounded way too enticing than it should’ve,” he admitted finally, drawing you closer with his hands on your hips.

Confirming the sentiment, he licked his lips thoroughly with the gaze focused on your mouth. Bingo. Unable to stop the smug smile from spreading on your lips, you suggested an answer to his predicament:

“Maybe that’s just because I said it,” the rare rush of confidence and pride spreading blush on your cheeks.

Once more, you were separated by a breath of space with your lower bodies flush together. That impeccable pull, doing its work as usual as you felt his breath ghost over your lips. Then Neil smiled, confirming the beliefs with a simple statement:

“Yes, that too,” another kiss shutting down the worries and strengthening the feelings.

It only took three more before you continued with the suit up. To prevent distractions, you settled on the opposite side of the cabin, slowly assembling the military outfit, the silence occasionally interrupted with comments. It was once you have adjusted your thigh holster and slipped in the faithful Glock that the reality has once more dawned on you. You were about to head into a battle. An actual, large-scale battle, on the Siberian steppes, armed with nothing but a handgun and rifle. And Neil, both the protector and the protected. Not that it made any sense.

Sighing at the mess of thoughts in your head, you turned back to the man in question, observing him for a moment. He was busy packing the military backpack with the needed supplies, half-dressed in the top layer of the suit. With the hair grown out and the slight stubble on his chin, the outfit gave him the ‘rough mercenary’ look that could not help but quirk your lips in a tiny grin. Luck, and all that. As your gaze fell on the dark green backpack, your eyes got caught by a pendant attached to the zipper. With the curiosity piqued, you crossed the space to see the trinket, asking the question in the process:

“What’s that?” tenderly, you reached out to touch the pendant.

It was a vintage coin from India, attached to the zipper with a red and orange piece of yarn, washed with the years of use. Upon your innocent question, Neil let out a long exhale. Nervous. Perplexed, you glanced at him, immediately noticing the shy smile and hesitant gestures. Running a hand through his hair, he finally strung together a sentence:

“I… uh, that’s something Alex gave me and I- I can take it off if you-” stopping the panicked ramblings, you placed your finger upon his lips.

Idiot. Smiling gently, you let go of the trinket and took Neil’s hand in yours, slowly rubbing out the tension and cherishing the feel of his palm in yours. There were no doubts as towards what you had to tell him in response to something this outrageous.

“Neil, why do you think I’d want you to get rid of that?” you watched as he struggled for an answer, the adorable pinkish tint darkening his cheeks, “I’m glad you had him. And that he was lucky to have you” as his eyes turned glossy, you swallowed the sudden rush of tears and added “I can only hope I’ll be fortunate enough to have you for the rest of however much have we got” the uncertainty creeping in, forcing to add the necessary disclaimer “If you’ll-”

If you’ll want me for that long. But you never got as far as telling that. Neil closed the gap, pulling you close with cheeks wet with tears and eyes full of inexplicable emotions:

“Shut up” he brushed his nose over yours as a prelude before covering your lips with his in a kiss.

A hungrier one this time, a way of returning the feelings you have poured into your words. His teeth grazed over your lower lip in a familiar expression of passion. In response, you could only draw him closer, sighing when the salty tears tinged the contact with boundless weight. Somehow you knew that whatever would happen beyond this moment, the love you had was real. Probably the only genuine feeling you ever had the luck of experiencing. With the realisation fresh on your mind, you could only whimper quietly when Neil broke the kiss at last and pressed another to your forehead. He kept on holding you close as though worried your time was running out. Overwhelmed with the conflicting emotions, you reached out to brush away the evidence of his tears, caressing his face in a dream-like daze. Finally, he broke the silence:

“Never thought I could love someone that much again, but there we are. And you know what?” the happy smile contrasted how his eyes glistened with melancholy, “I like it,” you mirrored the grin, letting the blue of his eyes pull you under “Emotional compromise has never been this tempting” reference to the nightly conversation making you giggle.

A perfect opportunity to lighten up the moment and shake off the premonition shadowing your every gesture and word. Distractedly, you placed your hand over his beating heart, glancing up at him with a playful smirk:

“Does your gob just like… never run out?” Neil’s grin widened, your interference doing its magic, “I’m impressed,” as a confirmation, you patted his shoulder humoredly.

Neil shrugged, the look in his eyes clear: you knew what you’re signing up for. And you did. Frankly, you would not have it any other way. No matter the consequences or the future. Love is merely a madness, after all.

“And I-” when Neil spoke again, you could tell what was coming.

Getting into the temptation (and because you haven’t said it in an hour), you interrupted him with your confession:

“I love you. I know,” a smug smile splitting your face once more upon seeing his reaction.

The eyes widened for a split second, furrowed brow and lips open in a gasp. Before Neil somehow became even more beautiful as the morning light lit up the joyful glimmer in his eyes. The hair caught on the golden fire, giving him the look of an angel that has fallen straight from heaven. And was yours, for some unknown reason. Your affirmation added a spark of confidence to his expression as he thanked you for it with another breathless kiss.

The rest of the dress-up continued in that manner, often interrupted with kissing, hugs, and banter that seemed to wash away the fears. Even if only for the moment. As you adjusted the bulletproof vest and made sure the front pocket was full of the extra magazines, you checked the time. A little too tight, considering you were yet to assemble the oxygen tank and prepare the rifle. Looking up, you met Neil’s attentive gaze as he was shamelessly staring at you. For a second, you could tell that you were both considering never leaving the room and ignoring the reality. Just saying ‘fuck it’ to the universe and abandoning the post for whatever cost to never let this moment end. But it had to. The mirroring mournful smiles on your faces contrasted with the desperate hope you tried to hold on to. Finally, without breaching the gap, you remarked quietly:

“We should move, or else they’ll leave without us” a meaningful look at the window.

Yet without urgency present in your heart. Because you did not want to go. Not at all.

Neil could easily read the sentiment from your face, for he picked up the remaining parts of the equipment and asked:

“Do you think there’ll be bears?” the innocuous question dropped with the needed effect.

A distraction. A way of making the exit easier for you.

“… what?” staring at him with confusion written all over your face, you gaped.

Beloved idiot. He grinned, taking that one step closer to brush away the hair from your eyes with extra care.

“You know, bears, Siberia… Rasputin?” his lopsided smile adding the punch to the ridiculous statement.

And then, just as you were sure the situation would not get stranger, he started humming. Boney M. Rasputin, naturally. You groaned, pondering life decisions. Seduction through talking absolute nonsense and humming Boney M? Sure, why not. Ignoring the urge to facepalm, you let the amusement and bewilderment spill through the glare you gave him. He shrugged in response. Another message easy to understand: your idiot. Taking his hand in yours, you decided to play along:

“I don’t think it’s that sort of Siberia,” you frowned, looking for the correct metaphor, “Think more like… Chernobyl, graphite, and radiation poisoning. Inverted, at that” wincing at the mental image, you squeezed his palm.

The quiet reassurance complementing the silent conversation. All that you did not need to say but knew anyway.

“Inverted Chernobyl?” Neil met your absent gaze with a laugh reflected in the blue irises.

The laughter never felt this important before. Clutching his hand tightly, you collapsed into his arms. A few minutes of delay wouldn’t hurt anyone.

***

If anyone later were to ask you how the briefing looked like or about the specifics of what you did before boarding the container attached to the chinook, you would not know what to tell them. As though in a dream, you attended the meeting led by Wheeler and crafted to fit the needs of the Blue team, registering half of what was said. You had the plan for your unit memorised, and that had to be enough. Rest was up to fate. With the pain resonating through the shoulder and the suffocating anxiety making a home in the pit of your stomach, Neil’s presence right next to you and his hand resting on your thigh mattered more than usually. You had a feeling he knew, shooting you worried looks now and then and focusing intently on Wheeler at the same time. As though he knew that he had to be the strong one. The leader. You could only hope that you would not disappoint him or fuck it up. After all, the fate of the world was a pretty crucial cause to fight for. Even if your world has shrunk to that 1,85m, blue eyes, and dyed blonde hair. Fighting for your future together was good enough, too.

You settled on the bench in the blue container, struggling to find the air to breathe in the cramped space, weighted with the fears and the suit covering every inch of your skin. As the chinook rose and the wind shook the container with force, you strengthened the hold over the helmet resting on your lap and screw your eyes shut. The throbbing sensation in your arm only seemed to get more prominent with every passing minute as though sensing that Stalsk (and whatever awaited there) was getting sooner for you. Trying to keep the mind at bay, you went over the plan once more. The bullet points straightforward enough to be recited like a prayer: upon the landing, exit the container and run towards the epicentre, following Neil; stay out of trouble; enter the dead-drop chamber with 5 minutes to spare (ideally); cover Neil as he deals with the lock; leave and arrive at the drop off zone in time to come back. Simple, right? You glanced at the watch on your wrist. It already felt like ten minutes from the explosion will not be enough. Because what if you were stopped? What if something went wrong, and you will never make it to the lock? What if you mess it up by letting nerves take over everything else? What if something goes wrong?

With the questions multiplying at an alarming speed, you quickly found yourself struggling for breath. The mask and the constant rattling of the packed container were not helping. Shit. A louder gasp was unnoticed by everyone but the man to your right. Neil turned on the bench in a second, scanning your face for the obvious signs. As your wild, panicked gaze met his, he tilted your chin firmly:

“Hey, hey,” the gentle whisper urging you to focus on him only “Look at me” he searched your eyes for something and then asked, “What’s wrong?”

It was that patience and kindness that always got you. No matter the circumstances or the advancement of your relationship, Neil always reacted with the same gentleness. And that was both the reason to love him and to be disappointed by your inability to keep it together.

“Sorry, it’s just nerves… and… fuck, I’m sorry” stumbling over the words, you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, betraying you “You need me, and I’m already fucking it all up by being too weak-” your rant was gathering speed, stopped only by Neil.

“If it wasn’t for the bloody oxygen masks, I’d make you shut up now,” he sighed with exasperation, eyes glancing at your mouth to point out the true meaning of the sentence “Stop it, give me your hand” obediently, you let him entwine your fingers “Actually, I’d be a little worried if you weren’t scared. But we’ll manage because it’s us. And there’s nothing we can’t do” the words spoken with confidence you could only dream of having “Do you trust me?” he asked the question with startling resolve in the blue eyes.

Despite the mess of thoughts, the answer was too easy.

“With my life,” you squeezed his palm for comfort and added, “And heart too, apparently” a sheepish shrug to complete the confession.

But is it still a confession when it’s glaringly evident? Talking with Neil like this with the troops all around and the chinook’s rattle overhead, everything felt surreal. But it did not seem like anyone noticed your ‘heart-to-heart’. Thank fuck.

Neil did not seem to mind, staring at you with that familiar affectionate glimmer in his eyes. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles, soothing the anxiety and reasserting his presence.

“I’m glad because I kind of need your heart to pull this off,” he grinned, the sudden tentativeness endearing and distracting you successfully “Because this way I know that it’s all worth fighting for” locking your eyes with his, you somehow knew what was coming “Do you remember the promise?”

Of course. It was not as if you spent many hours thinking about it. And praying that you will never have to break it.

“Yeah, I… I hope it won’t come to that” the careful answer to make sure he would not catch on to your doubts.

And the countless plans you have made in the quiet of your mind. Just in case.

“Me too, but if- If it’s me, or you, I’ll always choose you,” the simple statement made the breath hitch in your throat.

As did the look in his eyes, assuring you that he meant it. Boundless love, pouring out of every glance and expressed through the firm hold over your hand. There was no escaping it.

And I, you. The answer unspoken; whispered only to yourself. And that had to be enough.

***

The moment of quiet did not last long. Soon after your conversation ended, the wind picked up, increasing the shaking of the container. Even without windows, you could tell that you were getting closer. After another violent jolt, Wheeler stood up, holding on tightly to the railing overhead:

“We’re coming in on the shock wave,” her voice rang out loud and clear, “Hold on, people!” with the warning, you strengthened the hold over Neil’s palm and used the other to tighten the seatbelt.

You tensed, body preparing for the impact and everything else that could come after. As though following your instincts, you turned to Neil at the exact moment he glanced at you. Your gazes locked as the chinook flew through the explosion shock wave, eliciting gasps from the troops and increasing the feeling of doom. The only anchor, the blue eyes gazing back at you with love and determination, were a perfect place to wait for the landing. You kept on staring, letting yourself find a piece of hope in his face and knew Neil was doing the same. But the time was already running out.

Two minutes later, the blue container touched the ground with a thud giving you the signal to stand up and prepare for the charge down the ridge. You fastened the helmet and prepared the rifle, ready for the strike. As the doors opened, you got struck with the piercing light outside. The area was covered in the sandy steppe, the ruins of the city littered with crumbled grey buildings and blocks. The blue skies, giving nothing but a contrast to the scene with its startling serenity. As Wheeler gave the Blues signal to begin, you followed the troops, running out of the container and down the steep ridgeway, instantly noticing the hundreds of mercs in your way. Inverted, normal. Everything the hell had to offer. You could see the Reds fighting them off, trying to create a safe passage for the splinter unit. Before it began, one final thought resonating through your head – you never even got to say goodbye to TP. It felt strange. And yet.

You did not have much time to process the realisation as Neil tugged at your hand in a clear signal: C’mon. You followed him down the hill, rifle comfortably placed on your shoulder to allow easy aim if needed. 9:35. The bullets were wheezing past, inverted, and normal. An additional level of chaos was introduced by the crumbled buildings, flying upwards in denial of physics. That’s what the training was for. Focusing on staying alive and relatively unharmed, you swerved between the rocks and walls, eyes open on those that behaved differently. Rounding up the corner of one derelict building, Neil pulled you to crouch as he scouted the horizon for obvious traps. The construction acted as a hideaway, giving you a moment to catch the breath burning your lungs and give the legs a millisecond-long rest. The ringing in your ears seemed permanent as you stared at Neil, awaiting instructions. 8:00. The blue digits on the watch speeding up the pounding heart. After too long a pause, you asked:

“Are we clear?” your voice wavered, showing the anxiety brewing underneath.

“One second” Neil glanced at you before going back to risk assessment.

You tensed, closing your eyes for a split second to ground within the moment. To find clarity in the chaos of the battlefield. A breath in and out. Hand tightening the hold on the rifle. The other was squeezed by Neil. The sign to sober up.

“Go” your eyes shot open as he whispered the command.

Without a second of hesitation, you leapt up, turning around the corner and running straight towards the bunker. You could hear Neil following close, the sounds of your footfall the only noise you allowed in. And then the third one joined. Startled by an explosion nearby, you looked to the right in time to see a merc running in your direction. Inversed, luckily. He was too close to use the rifle, and so you faced him for combat. A kick there. A backhand to weaken the enemy. Adrenaline rushing in your veins as you successfully brought him to his knees. Now it was just the question of pulling the trigger. The shot echoed in the space as he fell on the ground with a thud. It never got too easy. Stifling a heavy sigh, you only managed to turn on your heel when Neil’s yell broke the silence:

“Watch out!” you saw the worry in the blue eyes before the world turned upside down.

In a flash, you heard strange noises coming from the rumble laying all around. There was no time to jump to the side as the stones flew up. A piece of rock hit you in the shoulder as another large boulder made you trip, landing face down on the ground. Fucking physics. The breath knocked out of your lungs as you groaned:

“Fuck,” the curse coming out as you tried to pick yourself back to standing.

The time was still running out. You winced as the pain radiating from the right shoulder increased by a notch.

“Are you alright?” Neil pulled you up with a frown etched onto his face.

No.

“Yeah, let’s go. It’s close now” you offered him an unconvincing smile and looked towards the buildings.

From the distance, it looked like a barrow or a war-time bunker with the top covered with soil and the entrance through a dark tunnel. The main way in was not yours, however. Projecting the mental map of the compound, you searched the terrain for your entryway. Soon, just where you expected it to be, you noticed a metal trapdoor in the ground, partially hidden by the shadow of a crumbled building. You knew Neil noticed it too, for he gently pushed you in the direction without a word. 6:02. On time. Sort of.

The rusted padlock keeping the door shut gave way after a forceful kick. You stood on the lookout as Neil opened the flap with a creak of the old hinges. Making sure no one was on the horizon, you looked over your shoulder to see the progress. It seemed like your way in was a vertical tunnel with ladder steps ending in eerie darkness. And beyond? God knows what. Fantastic. As Neil peered down the hole with a small torchlight, you frowned:

“A dark hole in the ground… brilliant” letting out a small sigh, you met Neil’s eyes as he looked up at you.

A glimmer in the blue irises told you he was up for no good. And you were right.

“… there lived a Hobbit?” Neil completed the quotation in an innocent tone.

Just as if you were not in the middle of the battle with bullets wheezing past and explosions punctuating every heartbeat.

“… Neil, what the actual fuck?” gaping at him, you almost forgot the reality.

For a split second, there was no ticking clock and worry of death waiting around the corner. Only you and Neil, entangled in yet another dialogue of nonsense. As it was supposed to be. You knew he understood, for he squeezed your hand once more before responding:

“Sometimes I ask myself that too,” a perfect punchline to elicit a sharp gust of laughter.

But there was no time. You both checked the horizon one more time before Neil pushed you in the direction of the entrance:

“Go, I’ll follow,” a whisper, giving the necessary support.

No chance of backing out. With a final sigh, you secured the rifle on your shoulder and took the first step down the ladder. The railings were cold and corroded by time and elements, giving that additional spark of anxiety you did not need.

Looking down, you could make out the end, and so, making sure to ignore the aching body and screaming mind, you began the descend without a second of hesitation. There was no time. With only the light from the world above, you soon lost the count and the ability to see, relying only on your instincts not to slip and fall.

After what felt like hours, your feet touched the ground with a shallow thump, resonating through the cavern. The tunnel was lit by a single fluorescent, giving out its swan song underneath the Siberian ruins. As you took a step to the side to let Neil join you, you scanned the surroundings. The dark cave with rusted pipelines lining up the ceiling and the metal crate and railings covering the ground. You exchanged a glance, similar reactions mirrored on your faces. It was easy to feel unwelcomed.

You turned to the right, as the maps indicated, following the tunnel towards the epicentre. With each step, the anxiety rose, manifesting itself through the shaking fingers and shallow breaths. You could feel the inexplicable feeling of dread fill your heart with nothing to blame it on. Until you finally turned the last corner and found yourselves at your destination.

The dead drop chamber had a high dome with the entrance at the top and a cage-like construction underneath, edging a dark cavern. In the poorly lit space, your eyes took a second to adjust and take in the necessary details. Inside the cage, you could see TP and Ives, hunched over a mysterious, steel object, shaped like a coffin. The Algorithm. A shudder ran through your body as you noticed the yellow countdown clock attached to the item. Next to them, there was a body. A man lying flat on his back with a gunshot wound in his head. You immediately recognised the face from the folder given to you long before the mission took off. Volkov, Sator’s right hand. Your blood turned cold as though anticipating something that was yet to happen. The pain in your shoulder has reached the levels of tolerance, increasingly growing to make sure you could not ignore it. Tough luck.

“Neil… something’s wrong,” you whispered, grasping his hand in yours, seeking comfort.

Even though he could not offer anything beyond his presence. You knew that whatever would happen, you had to face it alone.

“I know,” the low murmur bringing you back to the present moment.

As you locked eyes with Neil, you could see the worries confirmed. He was tense as if anticipating the worst yet not knowing when or how it would come. On the periphery of your vision, you could see Ives and TP stare at both of you, seemingly unsure of how they should act or which part to play. The body language, showing nothing but unease and confusion. You knew Neil noticed it too, for he quickly closed the space to the lock and rummaged in the front pocket of his vest for the tools.

“Let’s…” throwing a look at you with the necessary determination.

No time to waste. You nodded, blocking out the pain, if even for a second longer. Job to be done.

“I’ll watch your back,” the assurance he did not need, but you gave anyway.

As Neil began the lockpicking, you positioned yourself sideways, hoping to have a good vantage point to observe the inside of the cage and the tunnel leading to the epicentre. A glance at the watch picked up the heart rate. 03:27. With the muffled sounds of the battle above the cavern, you could hear your heavy breaths filling the silence, sometimes interrupted with backwards gibberish coming from the splinter unit and Neil’s curses. The time was both suspended and was ticking away mercilessly.

Upon a louder sigh, you glanced in his direction. The question died on your tongue as you perceived movement through the bars of the chamber. A gasp pierced the silence as your eyes landed on Volkov raising from the ground. No bullet hole in his head. Fuck. Before you could utter a word, a gunshot resonated through the space. Ives lowered the gun, staring at you with a strange emotion. Neil glanced up, a shaky breath the only sound on the comms.

It was easy to put together the pieces. And make the decision. Ignoring Neil’s startled look, you crossed the remaining gap to the cage. The gate was almost open, needing a few seconds more, at most. And after… It made so much sense. Easy. No need to think or analyse. Shield Neil, keeping your gaze fixed on Volkov. The pulse, pounding in your ears. The backward gibberish, coming from the splinter unit, talking to the henchman. It all did not matter. You awaited that faithful sound of the lock opening. A breath in and out. It would be alright. It would be worth it.

The click came both sooner and later than you expected. A jolt of adrenaline ran through your body, elevating the heart rate, making your reactions fluent. Fear is your companion. As the gate creaked, Neil’s tools clattered to the ground. He looked up at you, questions and worries multiplying in the blue eyes. He didn’t know yet. Taking comfort in the realisation, you smiled at him. For reassurance. I got you.

And then swiftly threw yourself between him and the now open door as the second gunshot echoed in the chamber. A flash of pain ripped through your shoulder; the inverted bullet tore through the tissue before you could perceive it. Of course. Everything made sense now.

Volkov lowered the gun and retracted through the tunnel in the dome. With a strangled yell, you fell onto the ground. Your knees hit the crate as you toppled onto your side. The edges of your vision darkened; your brain overwhelmed with the increasing agony. As though through the glass, you could hear Neil scream your name before he gathered you in his arms. Through the tears, you could see his furrowed brow. The eyes glossy with unshed tears of his own. You wanted to brush them away. To tell him that you are going to be alright. That you love him. But no sound could come out through the tightened throat.

The warm liquid was pooling inside the suit and spilling through the gaping hole. Pain flooded your vision as you fought to keep your eyes open. Through the ascending fog, you could hear Neil’s whispers, begging you to stay with him. To stay awake. Easier said than done.

Slowly, he stood up, cradling you in his arms. Horror and determination etched onto his face. You laced your hands on his neck, following the instincts that played out their roles without your actions.

The tunnel. Please, don’t cry. Bright light, hurting your eyes. Explosions in the distance. The boundless blue cast with fear. I love you. Burning agony radiating through the body. I don’t regret it. Neil’s panicked screams. I’ll do everything for you. The soil underneath your fingertips. You’re my everything. Scarlet hands. Pain.

No sound but the wind.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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wearequeer-andwearehere · 3 years

Note

Hi, I hope you're doing well :) I only recently stumbled over your blog and saw the post where you offered advice to people who need it, so I hope it's alright I'm leaving this ask!

I am afab and recently shaved my head for the fun of it, but that sent me into gender dysphoria which I've never experienced before, and I honestly didn't expect that to happen. On some days, I really want to look feminine so I wear heels, skirts/dresses and make-up and I feel great, whereas on other days, the thought of wearing heels repels me and I need to wear something tight to have a flat chest. I don't identify as male though, so I'm questioning if I'm non-binary or genderfluid, but none of it really resonates with me. Maybe I need more time figuring it out? I only know that when my teacher said that there are girls only in my class, I felt insulted, and that instant sent me spiralling lmao. I go by she/they, and have been doing that for a few months now, and I really vibe with it. I don't really have anyone in my life that I would want to burden with this, though 'burden' is kind of a stretch because I am quite calm about the entire thing, I would just like to have it figured out without having to think about it all the time. I hope I didn't bother you with this, and I hope you have a nice day/afternoon/evening/night, wherever you are x

Hi there :D I’m doing okay!! And ofc, it’s totally alright! /gen I’m always happy to answer any questions y’all have about gender and stuff :DDD

Here’s a post on gender dysphoria you might wanna read :DDD It sounds like you are experiencing social dysphoria and maybe physical dysphoria as well. so yeah you’re most likely not cis.

Remember, only way of being trans is being yourself!

Don’t force yourself into labels that don’t fit. You’re not supposed to fit labels, labels are supposed to fit you

There’s nothing wrong with not having a label or using only umbrella labels!

Feel free to experiment with labels! Live your life for one day and say “I am [gender],” try it out for a day or so and see how it feels!

Labels are like sweaters, you can try them on for a bit and see which one is comfiest!

“What makes me happy?” and “what makes me feel truest to myself?” are better questions than “what gender am I?”

The goal of gender questioning isn’t to find a label, it’s to make yourself happy—whether having a ton of microlabels, a few umbrella labels or just going unlabelled!

Happiness is always first priority—happiness first, labels second.

It’s okay to have “contradictory” labels as long as you aren’t hurting anyone

And last of all, take your time. You don’t have to find a label tomorrow or today. It’s okay. Don’t rush, take a deep breath. Maybe you’ll find labels, maybe you won’t! And that’s okay! Live your life and be happy, that’s all that matters

Feel free to look through my #gender questioning tag or send me an ask if you want to!

Honestly my advice is just be happy and everything will fall into place. Try on some labels if you want to, or coin your own! If you can send another ask describing your gender I can see if I can find some labels you might like!

And remember, the entire trans community is here for you, okay? It might seem lonely at times but there is a whole community of people that will love and support you no matter what.

Maybe try making a tumblr/discord and joining some trans discord servers so you have someone to talk to! Going through questioning on your own can be hard and if you don’t have anyone to talk to irl, online communities are the next best thing!

I hope I could help you out, and I wish you luck with your gender journey :D Lmk if you have any more questions, and have a great day/night :DD

#ask #anon #helping out a questioning person

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paulbunyanstatue · 3 years

Text

The warm sun poured across his bare arms as Tim stood before the manor’s duck pond. The birds had taken a recess, and in their leave of absence, Tim wished to capture the gorgeous image before him. Soft lily pads floated in the crystal water, a green that stood in contrast of the light pink reflected in the pond. A tall cherry blossom tree was rooted next to the water, branches hanging over the pads and creating a shadowy home for the fish that lived underneath the surface. The tree was in bloom this month, and Tim waited all week for a partially sunny day to come out and capture the vision. A petal tore from the branch and floated down to the water below, and Tim quickly brought the camera to his eye to snap the shot. His camera shuttered in effort and he stopped after the petal sunk below the surface.

He sat down on the grass and crossed his legs underneath him, hiding the screen from the sun with his hand while he peered at his work. He was so enthralled by the images and his ideas for further ones that he did not hear the footsteps that approached.

“Timbers, I need your help with something. I am working this case with Kor and Roy, and there seems to be contradictory evidence. But I think that-" Jason realized Tim’s gaze hadn’t left the camera screen, and he knew Tim wasn’t listening yet. “What are you doing out here?”

“Taking pictures,” Tim muttered without looking up at him.

“No shit.” Tim could practically hear the eye roll in his brother’s response, but he didn’t care. He had a vision now and he needed to plan out how he could capture the reflection of the cherry blossoms in the pond without having to climb the large tree and spoiling the photograph. “You aren’t snapping many pictures. Forget how to use the camera?” Jason continued after a small pause, followed by a snicker. Tim huffed but finally looked up toward his visitor.

“I’m trying to take a picture from high above.”

“You can't really do that while sitting down." Tim scoffed, and Jason continued. "You know there’s a tree directly beside you, right?”

Tim nodded with a scrunched nose. “Obviously, Jay.”

“And they call you brilliant. So climb the tree.”

“I can’t climb the tree. If I climb onto that branch there, the only one that would be beneficial to the shot, then my shadow would be cast over the grass here at the edge and my reflection will be seen in the water.”

“That sounds like a good thing. You are the photographer after all. So just flash those pearly whites and-"

“It doesn’t work like that. I can’t be in it.”

“What does it matter if you are in the picture?”

“It just does,” Tim answered as he stood up, clearly offended. He knew Jason didn’t fool around with pictures, even with his phone’s camera save a few of him and his outlaw buddies. “Being in this shot isn’t like signing your name to the bottom of a painting. And it needs to be perfect because the blossoms are perfect and the water is clear and the stones at the bottom of the lake are reflecting the sun. The lily pads are almost golden right now too, and the ducks are finally gone. It has to be perfect.”

Jason listened patiently, eyebrows drawing together slowly with something akin to concern. If he were being honest with himself, he would admit he was concerned for his brother.

“Too bad you aren’t taller,” Jason taunted smoothly after a quiet beat. He wore a wide grin that stretched across his cheeks, but Tim just grunted and looked back out at the water. He wondered if he should risk running back to the manor to grab a step-stool, or maybe even a ladder. But during that time, the ducks could return. He bit at the inside of his cheek.

Jason sighed.

“Alright, come on,” he ordered, beckoning Tim toward him with a wave of his hand. Tim’s feet didn't move and he met Jason’s eyes with a gaze deeply confused and mildly suspicious.

“Why?” He asked, eyes narrowed and protectively clutching his camera tighter to his chest.

“I’m going to lift you on my shoulders so you can get your stupid picture. Come on before I decide to push you in the water instead.”

“Oh,” Tim glanced back at the pond. He really did want that picture and it had been a long time since Jason wanted to murder Tim. The worst that could happen was that Jason would drop him back to the ground. Or throw him in the pond. At that last thought, Tim pulled his phone from his pocket and placed it on the ground where a tree root tangled furiously into the ground. Then he approached Jason.

Jason ducked and threaded his head between Tim legs, lifting Tim on his shoulders with surprising ease.

“Is this-uhm-is this okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Where do you need me?”

Tim awkwardly pat the top of the curly darkened hair in front of him. “Thank you, Jay.”

Jason grunted in response, and Tim directed him on where to stand. Tim leaned forward, his elbows digging into his own knees, and his stomach pressing against the back of Jason’s head. He looked through the camera’s screen and couldn’t help but to grin. The angle was perfect, and the picture was exactly what he was hoping for. After several shuttering clicks that sounded soothing accompanying the chirping birds and chattering bugs, Tim found himself quietly laughing through his nose. He lowered the camera down in front of Jason’s face and offered him a view of the scene.

“Remember this is before light adjustments and editing, but there’s the picture you helped me get.”

Jason was quiet for several seconds and Tim began to feel silly. His cheeks flushed and he dreaded to realize he just assumed Jason actually gave a shit about his childish hobby. He lifted the camera back up to his own eye and took more pictures in an attempt to erase the silence that steadily fed his anxiety. He captured the pond, the grass, and a yellow bird that landed on a shimmering stone.

Finally, Jason stated plainly, “Your picture looks very nice, Timbers.”

Tim paused, his finger frozen on the button. “Thank you. I can make you a copy of you want.” He wanted to pinch himself as the words left his mouth, because why would he have asked-

“Yes.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Really. Just because I come from a Dickensian part of town doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate good art. Alright, shutter bug.” Jason tightened his hands around Tim’s calves resulting in an anxious grunt from the carried. “Time for a dip.”

“Jason!” Tim yelped and forcefully gripped a fist through Jason’s hair. “Please tell me you are just jok-"

“I am. You know, the rose bushes by that gazebo on the south side of the property are in bloom right now. I think those would make a good picture.” Jason reached back behind his head and gripped Tim by his sides, lifting him over his head and returning the kid to his own feet.

Tim grinned widely now. “Let’s go.”

They spent the next hour outside. Jason pointed out things that he thought looked interesting, and Tim snapped pictures of them before showing Jason the outcome. They found a tranquil stream a mile from the pond, where Tim captured the way the water rippled along the mossy-covered rocks. They found a squirrel perched on a branch a few feet away, and Jason whistled softly so the squirrel looked at Tim for the picture he took. A large fluttering butterfly hovered above a dandelion, and Tim laid on the ground for the shot.

When Jason's phone chimed, Tim sat up and turned to him with wide eyes. "You came out here asking for something. What did you need?"

Jason leveled him with a calculative gaze, as though he were reading Tim before answering. "Right now, I need food. Let's head back to the manor." He ticked his head and they walked together in comfortable silence. Tim flipped through the pictures on his camera and Jason scrolled through his phone. When they reached the manor's front door, Jason threw it open and fished a folder from his backpack discarded by the entrance before nodding his head to Tim in the direction of the kitchen. Tim followed wordlessly, taking a seat at the kitchen island and watching with interest as Jason stood across from him and tossed the folder onto the table in front of Tim. Jason finally declared, "I will make us lunch. Would you take a look at that for me?"

Tim chewed on his thumbnail as he studied the information before him, and Jason pulled ingredients from the refrigerator and heated a pan on the stove. Tim did not know how much time had passed but he discovered the reason for the snag in the case, as well as came up with three strategical maneuvers that Jason and his team could pull during their next raid as Jason plated the crêpes. Tim's attention snapped back when Jason slid a plate in front of him. Tim stared at the food with surprised longing, since he was too enthralled in the case to actually smell the cinnamon and orange that swirled around him. Though now that he did, his stomach ached with hunger and his mouth watered. He figured he probably forgot to eat that morning... and the evening before. Chocolate, whipped cream, and orange zest topped the folded treat and Jason handed him a fork.

"Orange filling," Jason informed him, already tearing into his own food. "Eat it while it is warm."

Tim pulled his plate closer and took a bite. As the warm, fluffy pancake touched his tongue, followed by the burst of orange cream, he couldn't help but to gasp alongside his widening eyes. Jason smirked and lowered his head at the sincere reaction with color akin to a blush shading his cheeks.

"These are amazing!" Tim shoveled more into his mouth, and even considered how he would look if he licked the plate in front of Jason when he finished. As he cleared the last bite from his fork, he gaze rose to his brother's plate pathetically. Jason noticed and relented with a sigh. He pushed his own plate nearer to Tim and invited him to finish it off while he made more for them. Tim politely asked if Jason was sure, and when he received a confirmation, he quickly finished the food.

"Strawberry or apple this time?"

"You can make these with apple?" Tim jumped out of his seat and approached Jason at the stove. His brother laughed and considered that answer enough to snatch a ripened red apple from the bin by the refrigerator. "How did you learn to cook like this?"

"Alfred taught me," Jason responded, lighting the stove once more and adding butter to the pan. He washed the apple he held and began to cut away the peel, handing the pieces to Tim to snack on. "As you probably already assumed, I did not grow up receiving cooking lessons from my parents. The only tip I got in the kitchen was how fast I needed to get a beer for my dad before he got pissed and came after me with his belt." Tim became uncomfortable and shuffled at that, wringing his fingers anxiously. "It's okay, Timburrito," Jason said softly when he noticed the sudden wave of uneasiness. "That man is dead, and I know how to cook now. Besides, from what Brucie has told me, you had a shitty sperm-donor yourself."

Tim rolled his eyes and turned away, crossing his arms. "Brucie needs to mind his own business. I grew up in privileged circumstances, and it was fine." Jason leveled him with a raised eyebrow, and Tim rolled his eyes again. "I was lucky. You do not need to compare us to lessen the tragedy of your own traumas."

"Bruce is your guardian now. Even more so, he is your dad. If he minded his own business, Alfred would call child services on his ass." Jason dug his elbow into Tim's side, eliciting a reluctant giggle. "Look, you are obviously a good kid. I mean, you forgave me for what I did."

"You couldn't help that," Tim interjected with a frown.

"My point stands," Jason continued. "You are a good kid, and I know you work hard to see the best in people. But your parents left you alone far too often, and that isn't right. You and I, we did not grow up in the healthiest households."

"Your father was an abusive man, and he hurt you. We did not grow up the same."

"Yours did not have the touch of an angel, kid. According to the Dickhead himself, you used to show up here for patrol with a few extra lickings that didn't happen courtesy of some goon on the street."

Tim wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth to snap back, but he closed it again when he realized he had nothing to say. How could he deny something that Dick had no reason to lie about. Jason was right, his father was not a good parent. Tim often wondered if he was even a good person. He watched the butter in the pan come to life, sizzling and bubbling up. The smell wafted around him, but this time it felt suffocating, and it caused turmoil deep in his stomach. "Our fathers sucked."

"They were monsters. And yet, here we are," Jason nodded slowly, waving his knife around the kitchen as though this room alone supported his point. His eyes landed on Tim and he grinned. "Dick told me you accidentally called Bruce 'dad' the other day." Tim's cheeks turned dark red and his eyes widened. "I bet the old man loved that."

Tim shrugged with one shoulder, and turned away. "Dick is far too loud for his own good. It was an accident, and I think I was a few quarts of blood low when it happened." He paused for a moment, chewing on another slice of apple peel. "But besides, he sort of is my dad now."

Jason smiled at the kid's response. It was already obvious to him that Bruce was Tim's father, the man adored the genius kid. And Bruce was a wildly significant improvement from the last one Tim had. "You should tell him that, I think he would appreciate hearing it."

Tim snaked his hand in between Jason and the cutting board and snatched a slice of apple, dodging Jason's swat and burying the fruit in his mouth with a sneaky grin. "Jason?" His brother hummed. "Can you teach me how to make these?"

For the first time since knowing Jason Todd, Tim watched as he lit up with excitement. Jason had always loved learning new skills. When Alfred agreed to teach him how to cook fancy foods that differed so drastically from the Top Ramen he grew up microwaving for himself and his mother, his excitement was palpable. He even kept a notebook during his years as Robin. He brought the spiral paper to the kitchen counter and recorded the information that was fed to him in that loving environment. Being able to pass this experience to another, especially a member of his growing family, sparked new joy in his chest that traveled up to his cheeks and drew a smile on his face. He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed studiously on the apple. "Yes, I can teach you how to make these. And I can teach you how to cook other foods too. You and Bruce grew up too wealthy, you know? Everyone ought to learn how to cook and do their laundry and shit." Tim rolled his eyes again and couldn't help his scoff as he insisted he knew how to do laundry. "This pan is heated enough, we can add the batter now."

"How do you know it is heated enough?"

"Do you see how the butter has browned slightly?" Tim nodded. "And do you smell the cooked butter?" Tim sniffed slowly, and he nodded again. The smell didn't feel so suffocating anymore, in light of their new conversation. "That is how you know. With crêpes, the pancake part has to be very thin. I already made this batter, because you want it to sit for at least an hour, though if it sits overnight, those are the best-tasting crêpes you will ever have in your life." Tim raised his eyebrows because he could not possibly imagine that anything could taste better than the food Jason had just served him. "But I can show you how to do that later. Pour a little bit of batter in this pan, and tilt the pan so that it is evenly spread out." Jason backed away from the counter and watched Tim slowly approach the bowl. He accidentally poured too much batter into the pan, just like Jason had when he first learned how to make crêpes. But, in mimicry of Alfred's own response to him so many years ago, Jason said, "Just a tad thinner for next time, but otherwise, it looks wonderful."

Tim couldn't help but smile with pride.

:) Softer scene from my fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32502511/chapters/80612944#workskin

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silversatoru · 4 years

Text

hot chocolate

megumi x yuuji

synopsis: megumi’s days get a little less boring when yuuji starts stopping by his coffee shop

tags/warnings: fluff, college au!, coffee shop au!, characters are aged up, making out, swearing

word count: 3780

The whipped cream bottle whizzed and sputtered, the scarce remains of its contents flying all over the counter. Megumi stifled a few cuss words under his breath, silently cursing whoever finished the whipped cream and didn't replace it with a new one. He tossed it in the garbage and drug himself into the back of the shop in search of a fresh bottle. He was only two hours into his shift at his university's coffee shop, but it had easily been the longest two hours of his life. Midterms were this week, meaning every student on campus was stopping by for some extra caffeine to get through their day.

When he finally returned with his new container of whipped cream, the line of students had nearly doubled — what a hassle. He threw a quick, fluffy spiral of cream onto the drink he'd been working on and gave it to the customer, apologizing for the wait. He shoved the money into the old cash register and handed them their change, a small sigh leaving his lips as the next customer approached.

It was an athletic looking boy with pink spiky hair and a round face. He wore a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, and his rose-colored hair looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. Megumi didn't recognize him, which was weird because he had a knack for memorizing the faces of every student who walked in and out of the shop.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?" Megumi spoke in his signature monotone voice, too tired to add any customer service flare.

"I'm not sure," The boy stared up at the menu with a terribly confused expression on his face.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Megumi stared at the boy like he had two heads — he'd been waiting in line for at least ten minutes and he still hadn't decided?

"Well, I don't actually like coffee. So, I'm not sure what to get," he stated bluntly.

"If you don't like coffee, why did you come to a coffee shop. We literally only sell coffee," Megumi deadpanned.

"Well, I want to try and force myself like coffee — acquire the taste, you know? For the caffeine and stuff. Maybe you could recommend me a drink?"

"Uh... yeah sure. I'll just make you what I usually get," Megumi had to forcibly stop himself from rolling his eyes at the customer.

"Okay, great!" The pink-haired student called after him as he walked over to the array of coffee machines.

Megumi grabbed a cup for hot beverages, sliding it under the latte machine and filling the it with the warm brown liquid. He stirred in some oat milk and a drizzle of honey before topping it off with a layer of cream. He made his way back over to the peculiar customer and carefully handed him the drink.

"It's a honey oat milk latte," Megumi stated plainly.

"I'm not even sure what a latte is, but thank you!" His lips twisted into a toothy smile as he handed Megumi his debit card.

The dark-haired boy swiped his card through then machine and finished the transaction before returning it to the boy, "Have a nice day".

"Thanks, you too! My name is Itadori Yuuji by the way, it was nice to meet you...," he squinted his eyes in attempt to read Megumi's name badge, "Fushiguro! That's a cool name".

"Uh, thanks. I have to help the next customer now," Megumi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly — this whole interaction was so weird.

"Oh, right. Thank you again!" He called out as he turned and left the shop.

Megumi found it impossibly hard to concentrate on his job after that. For some reason his mind was consumed by his interaction with Itadori Yuuji — the peculiar pink-haired student. He found himself still thinking about it later that night, even after working all morning and attending classes all afternoon. No amount of school work was able to distract his mind from this stupid new boy.

When he woke up the next morning and slipped on his apron before heading to work, he wondered if the pink-haired boy would be back again today. He searched all morning for a head of fluffy pink hair amongst the hoards of students, but he never came.

Around ten o'clock the coffee shop always dies down, as all the students and teachers are in class. Megumi leaned back against the counter and pulled out his phone, mindlessly scrolling through twitter while he waited for a customer to show up.

The golden bells hanging from the front door emitted a soft ringing sound, signaling that someone had entered the shop. Megumi looked up to see a baggy sweatshirt and messy pink hair, and for some reason his heart jumped.

"Hey, Fushiguro!" Yuuji's face was plastered with a bright smile.

Megumi scrunched up his nose, it was weird for the boy to call him by his name — they didn't even know each other.

"Hey, how was the honey oat milk latte?" Megumi slid his phone back into his pocket and approached the counter.

"Oh, it was terrible. Fucking awful, actually," Yuuji's faced scrunched up in horror as he reminisced on the atrociously bitter flavor.

Megumi was genuinely offended. Yuuji could have told him he was the ugliest person he'd ever seen, that he had the personality of a brick wall, but to insult his coffee? That was crossing a line. Megumi knew his coffee-making skills were impeccable.

"Excuse me?" Was all he could manage.

"Yeah, it was probably one of the worst things I've ever put in my mouth. Anyway, I was hoping to try something different today," Yuuji said nonchalantly, his hands resting comfortably in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Okay..." Megumi took a deep breath, trying desperately to keep his cool, "What would you like to try?"

"Could you just make something for me again? I really don't know what to order".

"But you hated my last recommendation," Megumi stared at him blankly.

"Yeah... but eventually you'll have to make something I like," Yuuji insisted.

Megumi grumbled a quick "alright" and headed back over to the machinery, searching his mind for a recipe Yuuji might like. Eventually, he decided on a caramel macchiato — everyone likes those. He handed Yuuji the drink and the pink haired boy quickly payed before leaving the shop again.

Megumi watched him as he walked past the coffee shop windows and took a sip of his drink. The pink haired boy's face twisted with disgust, and he looked like he could barely keep the liquid down. He immediately took another sip, his body having the exact same reaction as the first time. Megumi let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he watched that absolute idiot until he could no longer see him.

He continued to refer to Yuuji as stupid, weird, or annoying, but that was completely contradictory to the fact that he couldn't get the pink-haired boy out of his mind. He found himself wondering if he would come back again for a third time, and if he did, what drink would Megumi make him? A small part of him was getting invested in this outlandish journey of finding a drink that Yuuji actually liked.

That night Megumi had a revelation — maybe hot coffee just wasn't Yuuji's thing. He decided that tomorrow he'd make him something cold, that was sure to work.

So, when the third day rolled around and Yuuji's messy pink hair came waltzing into the campus coffee shop, Megumi made him an iced cinnamon dolce latte. This time though, Yuuji followed him over to the array of coffee machines, asking him questions about how coffee was made. Megumi found himself explaining the entire process, from how the coffee is brewed to what sweeteners and creams he was adding to this particular beverage. He was honestly appalled by his own actions, he would never put in this kind of effort for any of his other customers — so what made Yuuji so different?

"So, what's your major?" Yuuji questioned while Megumi dusted some cinnamon over the top of his drink.

"Biology with a minor in veterinary technology," Megumi answered without looking up at him, snapping the plastic lid onto the coffee cup.

"Ohhh somebody's smart," Yuuji mused, "Animals, huh?"

"Yeah, they don't talk as much as people do," Megumi said, only half-joking.

"Right? People can be so annoying sometimes," Yuuji shook his head.

Megumi found his lips cracking into the tiniest smile — how ironic and blissfully unaware this boy was. He seemed to truly live life without a care in the world.

"What's yours?" Megumi asked, finally stretching out his arm and handing the pink-haired boy his iced coffee.

"Oh, sports med," Yuuji responded, his nose scrunching up as he took the first sip of his drink.

That answer didn't surprise Megumi at all, given the boy's athletic physique it was obvious he was into that sort of thing. The poor reaction to Megumi's coffee didn't surprise him either — this endeavor to find him a drink he likes is proving to be futile.

"Not good?"

"So bad," Yuuji shook his head, his eyes filled with despair and disgust, "We'll find one eventually though!"

"Maybe," Megumi didn't know it, but his face softened when he talked to Yuuji, his shoulders fell and his jaw unclenched.

There was so something so simple and calming about conversing with that strange boy.

"Well, thanks anyway! See you tomorrow Fushiguro!" His voice rung out through the shop — he really had no volume control when he spoke.

Megumi found himself watching Yuuji through the windows until he could no longer see him again —this was becoming a bad habit.

When the rush of students on their way to morning classes finally died down, one of his coworkers approached him.

"Sweet cream?" The boy questioned him, one of his eyebrows raised in suspicion.

His coworkers name was Inumaki Toge, and he was deaf and mute — selectively mute, anyway. He only communicated in words related to coffee, which was entirely too strange for most people, but Megumi didn't mind.

The two of them had been friends since Megumi first got this job two years ago. They'd even created their own communication system — Toge would talk in coffee terms, which translated to certain things that really only Megumi understood. Then, the dark-haired boy would respond in sign language, a skill he learned just so he could talk to the boy. It broke his stone-cold heart when he first started working here and saw Toge was always alone in the back of the shop. Most students didn't have the time or energy to learn a whole new language for the sake of someone they didn't know, but Megumi decided to put in the effort.

Megumi rolled his eyes, signing that no, he and the pink-haired boy were not friends.

"Americano," Toge furiously crossed his arms over his chest, accusing Megumi of lying to him.

I'm not lying! He's been coming here the past few days for coffee. I don't know why he talks to me so much, Megumi quickly signed back, his eyes narrowed at the white-haired boy.

Toge rolled his eyes at him in the hardest, most exaggerated way possible.

He's just a customer Toge, don't look at me like that, Megumi folded his fingers into the different signs, his frustration towards the mute boy growing.

"Espresso," Toge mumbled under his breath, twisting and returning to his spot at the back of the shop where would grind coffee beans and restock their shelves.

What? You're out of your fucking mind Toge. I do not like him, he's just a regular customer, Megumi angrily signed at him, but it was to no use, as the deaf boy had already turned around and was paying him no mind.

Their conversation lingered in his head for the remainder of the day though, because maybe Toge was onto something. Megumi was terrified to admit it, but Yuuji's daily visits had quickly become the best part of his day, even if he was kind of annoying.

And it continued to be the best part of his day for the next few weeks. Yuuji would come to the shop everyday and they would make pointless small talk while Megumi brewed him new drinks to try. Not a single one ever suited his palate, but he continued to return none the less. His motives were becoming questionable at this point — was he still coming for the coffee, or had this turned into something much bigger?

So, when winter break was right around the corner, and the last day of classes began, Megumi wondered what his days would be like when he didn't have their daily interactions to look forward to.

It was especially snowy today — enough to dust the ground and freeze the air, but not enough for classes to get canceled. Bundled students trudged in and out of the shop, buying coffees and hot chocolates in attempt to keep themselves warm. Their was an excited energy in the air though, it seemed everyone was thrilled for fall semester to be over — everyone except Megumi.

His heart skipped a few beats when Yuuji's familiar soft face appeared in the door.

"Hey, Megumi!" He called out, waving his had furiously through the air.

Somehow they had transitioned to a first name basis about a week ago — the dark-haired boy wasn't even sure how it happened but he certainty didn't mind it.

"Hey, you want something warm or cold today?"

"Definitely warm," Yuuji answered quickly, a shiver coursing its way through his body.

Megumi nodded, getting to work on something that he was sure Yuuji would like.

"Are you visiting family over break?" Yuuji wasted no time addressing their winter-break dilemma.

"No," Megumi shrugged his shoulders, he was one of the very few students who never went home on holidays.

"No family to visit. I live in an off-campus apartment so I just stay here over breaks".

Megumi expected Yuuji to frown, maybe even show him some pity for his unfortunate situation, but he did the complete opposite instead. He lips spread into the widest smile, and he swore he saw him jump in excitement.

"Me too! I used to visit my grandfather, but he died a couple years ago. My holidays have been pretty lonely".

Megumi looked up at him, a bewildered expression on his face. Who could have known that someone as cheerful as Yuuji was carrying such a burden?

"Where do you live? Maybe we could hang out over break," the pink-haired boy cocked his head to the side.

"Second street," Megumi answered, filling Yuuji's cup with steaming brown liquid.

He certainly wasn't opposed to the idea of seeing Yuuji more often, but it scared him just as much as it excited him.

"I live on Third! I can't believe we haven't run into each other before," Yuuji gasped.

Megumi wordlessly finished up the hot drink, subtly scribbling his address and his phone number onto the coffee label while the other boy blabbed on about how close they lived. When he was done he held it out to him, the pink-haired boy reaching out with his mitten-covered hands to take the drink.

He took a small sip and his eyes sparkled like they held the stars inside of them.

"This is so good! What kind is it?" Yuuji asked, eagerly taking another sip and inevitably burning his tongue on the hot beverage.

"Hot chocolate," Megumi spoke plainly, "I've come to the conclusion that it's impossible for you to like coffee".

"You're probably right," Yuuji nodded, "I think I'm more of a hot chocolate guy".

"No, you're a child with immature taste in drinks," Megumi scrunched up his nose.

Yuuji faked offense, and then held up his hand and attempted to flip Megumi off through his mitten — but it didn't really work.

That's when he noticed the dark-haired boy's phone number and address scribbled on the side of his cup. A light blush dusted over his cheeks and he offered Megumi a warm smile.

"I'll see you around!" He called.

A thousand butterflies flew around Megumi's stomach as he watched the boy leave and walk down the snowy sidewalk. What the hell kind of cheesy hallmark movie was his life turning into?

"Americano," Toge's accusatory voice shook Megumi out of his trance.

Okay fine, maybe I'm a liar. Fuck off, Megumi signed at him, to which the deaf boy chuckled to himself.

☃

It was Christmas Eve now, and classes had ended a few days ago. Megumi checked his phone obsessively, but a text from Yuuji never appeared. He started to doubt that the boy actually meant what he said about wanting to hang out — maybe he was just being nice and Megumi had taken it the wrong way. He couldn't help but feel disappointed, no matter how much he wished he didn't care. He'd even taken a container of the coffee shops' hot chocolate powder for Yuuji. He planned on gifting it to him, because he had liked it so much.

So, when six o'clock at night rolled around and there was still no sign of the cheery pink-haired boy, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Who knew he was so invested in this idiot?

A light knock on his front door pulled him out of his thoughts, and his heart leaped into his throat. He peered through the small peep hole of his door and euphoria spread through his body — the stupid, spiky-haired boy had finally arrived.

He opened the door and Yuuji immediately blushed, his eyes wide as he looked around Megumi's apartment.

"Hi," He squeaked, "Sorry I didn't text or anything".

"It's okay," He ushered the boy inside and closed the door behind him.

"I stopped at a convenience store and bought some cookie dough. I thought we could make them, since yanno, it's a Christmas Eve thing".

Megumi found his own cheeks get warm at the other boy's forwardness. Baking cookies felt so familial, not like something you'd do with a coffee shop acquaintance. But none the less, he nodded his head and guided Yuuji into the kitchen.

The awkwardness between them quickly melted away as they rolled out the dough and attempted to cut out fun Christmas-themed shapes. Megumi chewed on his bottom lip as he focused on the intricate snowflake cookie was trying to make, his perfectionism getting way too involved. Yuuji on the other hand held up a half-smushed blob with a few spikes coming out of the top and two holes punched through the middle.

"It's you!" he laughed, holding his monstrosity of a cookie up for Megumi to see.

The dark-haired boy scoffed, "That's terrible, it looks nothing like me".

"Sorry, Mr. I'm smart and good at art. Are you sure you're not a sculpting student or something?" Yuuji stuck his nose in the air, carefully placing his Megumi cookie on the greased metal tray.

They each cut out a couple more shapes before the oven let out a loud ding to let them know it was preheated. Megumi picked up the tray and shuffled over to the oven, carefully placing it on the top rack. He closed the door before standing up and turning around — bumping right into Yuuji, who for some reason was standing right behind him. They were the exact same height, so Megumi's nose practically slammed into Yuuji's. He blushed furiously, quickly backing up into the counter.

"Sorry," he mumbled a quick apology, though Yuuji had been the one standing right behind him, so maybe he should apologize.

"Can I ask you a question?" Yuuji cocked his head to the side, completely ignoring Megumi's apology.

"Sure?" Megumi gave him a confused look.

"This is more than just two coffee shop friends hanging out, right? You can kick me out if I'm wrong, but if I'm right, I'd really like to kiss you while those cookies bake".

Megumi's eyes widened, his heart thumping hard against the walls of his chest. Of course he wanted to kiss Yuuji, he'd wanted to for weeks — it was all he thought about while he brewed him his stupid coffees everyday.

"Yeah... yeah, you're right," Megumi nodded, those few words were all that he could manage.

That clarification was all that Yuuji needed, a soft smile blossoming on his face before he stepped forward and cupped his fingers around the back of Megumi's neck. Heat spread through his face as their lips collided, every other one of his senses fading away as his body honed in on Yuuji's touch.

He'd been kissed before, several times by both men and women — but none of them compared to this. None of them were this gentle, soft, and electrifying all at the same time. Yuuji's fingers curled into the base of Megumi's hair, and he found his own hands tracing up the sides of the others' torso. He was completely drowning in the ocean that was Yuuji's lips, his mind growing foggy. He'd imagined what this would be like far too many times, but never once did he think it would be this good.

The ten minute timer Megumi had set on the oven started blaring through the kitchen, and he couldn't believe it had been that long already. A soft sigh escaped his throat as Yuuji pulled away, a smile tugging at the other's lips.

"I didn't expect so much experience from the quiet coffee barista," Yuuji poked at him, his eyes glistening with a fire that hadn't been there before.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, I guess," Megumi shrugged, grabbing his oven mitt and pulling the cookies out of the oven.

The pink-haired boy let out a light chuckle, immediately trying to grab a cookie off the metal sheet. Megumi swatted his hand away, insisting that the cookies would be too hot eat right away.

Megumi found his lips intertwined with Yuuji's again after setting down the tray — after all they'd have to pass the time while the cookies cooled somehow.

And so for the first time in a long time, Megumi didn't spend Christmas alone. Rather, he spent it with an overly-cheerful pink-haired boy who became a ray of sunshine in his life of clouds. Though he wished he liked his coffee, Megumi had no problem with brewing him hot chocolate instead. And he did, every morning for the rest of the spring semester he always had a cup of hot chocolate ready for Yuuji. He'd even stopped charging him for it at this point, throwing on a free drink discount every time he came.

#jjk #jjk oneshot #jujutsukaisen #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuuji #fushiguro x itadori #itadori x fushiguro #megumi x yuuji #yuuji x megumi #fushiguro x itadori fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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ladyeliot · 4 years

Photo

Prologue [B.B.]

When she met him masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader [Michelle]

Summary: Anthony Stark's funeral was not the last symbol of recognition of the sacrifices the Avengers had had to make. The mission had not come to an end, and so Steve Rogers was charged with returning the Infinity Gems to their place of origin. What had been a lifetime for him was only a few moments for others. He had lived a pleasant and lasting time, and for that reason he wanted his partner and friend to find it too.

Warnings: Angst.

Word count: 1235

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

2023

Time is an element that can generate contradictory feelings, in barely a millisecond it can change your life without you even realising it.

His surroundings were full of uncertainty, the foundations he had laid in the years that followed had just cracked, offering him a blank map for his future. Just a few seconds ago his destiny was shared with the person who had saved him from his darkness, from his inner demons, yet that person seemed to have lived a life in which he had not been present.

A few yards away sat an individual on a bench near the lake, his changed appearance suggesting that time had passed over his features, but he had no doubt that it was him. Sam, standing firmly by his side, approached him first, for he himself did not know if he had the courage to face the situation. A brave choice, he thought, as well as a bold one, but always made from the heart, as was everything his old friend did.

A knot formed in his stomach, wondering why the decision had been made, and only the word 'love' connected to the name 'Peggy Carter' came to mind. His eyes glazed over as a shy smile formed at the corners of his lips, prompting him to consider the life Steve had had. His good fortune to be able to return to the past and to have lived with the person he truly loved gave him a sense of well-being filled with anger at himself. It was an opportunity that he had contemplated and wished for during his years of lucidity and which he had firmly recognised was merely impossible.

His hands balled into fists inside his jacket pockets relaxed as he watched Sam, after a few minutes, rise from the bench, inviting him to take his place. Bucky bit the inside of his lower lip nervously as he ducked his head, watching his restless feet. Sam positioned herself next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, their eyes made a brief connection in which hundreds of words were exchanged, but he knew it would be alright after observing Sam's relaxed countenance.

A nod to himself and again he formed a fist in his hands and slowly approached the stone bench, where a figure sat with his back to him at all times. Whitish grey hair was visible in his hair, accompanied by a slightly hunched back. They barely looked at each other, for there was so much to express that it was better not to say anything. Their eyes were absorbed in contemplating the horizon reflected in the blue waters of the lake.

The peace in the air slowed Buck's heartbeat and he let the air out of his lungs with a sigh. Steve kept his hands folded in his lap, the wrinkles expressing the long existence he had had. His friend couldn't help but turn his gaze slightly towards them, causing a feeling of gratitude to settle over him, for the fact that after so long Steve had returned to them meant so much.

"I have to admit she was a really beautiful woman," said Steve, causing the silence to break at last. His voice was faint and had changed over the years.

Bucky smiled quizzically as his eyes roamed over the face of his friend, who was still staring straight ahead. His mind recalled with a hint of difficulty the figure of Sergeant Carter, but the fact was that she was blissful in beauty, as well as in ruggedness and courage. Before he could admit it and agree with his partner, however, Steve intervened again.

"I didn't have the pleasure of knowing her, but she sure was a great woman," Steve's blue eyes, over which his expression lines fell, made a connection with Bucky's, which after hearing those words became impassive.

A lump in his throat formed as his pupils dilated and became watery with the multiple feelings he was feeling. In no instant would she have expected those words to come from Steve. Talking about her out loud, even remembering her in his mind, generated a lot of pain inside him, but the fact that his friend had seen her or knew about her, due to his return to the past, and remembered her after so long was a fact to be thankful for.

Steve didn't mean Peggy Carter, no, he meant Michelle.

"I couldn't help it, it wasn't my duty to do it either" he urged turning back to gaze at the horizon "But you can change the course of your future."

Steve's trembling hands parted to pull an object from inside his jacket, Bucky was still at a loss for words but he was paying attention to his old friend's every gesture. A large white envelope, that was what he pulled out, its size was similar to that of a sheet of paper, however inside it seemed to contain a series of documentation, barely visible due to its opacity. The aged hands handed him the envelope, which James looked at with suspicion and fear of what might be inside it.

"What is this?" a trickle of a voice came from within him, hesitating to ask the question.

"That which will give answers to your many doubts."

Steve placed his hand on Bucky's back, trying to comfort him and give him strength to face the path that was about to begin, and that unfortunately he could not be by his side "Now it is your choice. In those documents you will find all the information gathered by SHIELD, from the HYDRA documents to the present day" he turned to his right and picked up a white box. "I suppose you'll want to have this as well."

The uncertainty that had been wandering in his mind for the last few years might cease to exist the moment he opened that white packet, but was he really ready to face his greatest fears, those that had kept him from sleeping peacefully for years and that still lay before him when he was awake?

Time seemed to stand still, neither of them uttering another word on the subject at hand, yet their closeness spoke volumes. Bucky's hand clenched tightly around the envelope, trying to contain all the rage that burned inside him. He hesitated whether to open it now or wait, wait until he had the courage to fight, but he had waited so long for that moment that he decided to open it, releasing his worst fears.

Inside it coexisted a series of documents, gathered in a folder of light blue colour, he extracted it presenting it in front of his own eyes and emphasizing what some red letters informed that it would be its content.

"PROJECT LIEUTENANT WELLS - CONFIDENTIAL FILES"

His jaw closed impassively as his right hand clenched into a fist and he would say it to his lips in an attempt to stop a sob. His eyes closed, for as he himself had predicted, he did not feel up to the task of coping with all that it meant.

Steve, who was watching the situation closely without having taken his hand off his friend's back, said those words that would always be true: "I'm With You Till The End Of The Line".

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MAIN MASTERLIST

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ddixons-angel · 4 years

Text

Fated: Season 6

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: Here we are again, another Monday means another chapter! Hehe I’m not late this time, yay~~!

Chapter 5

It was just supposed to be a dry run, the plan wasn’t supposed to be set in motion until a few days later, but Michonne had come back with Heath and Jacob bearing bad news and an injured Scott. Aaron helped carry him to the infirmary where Gloria patched up his leg, she then left Denise with Jacob to look after him as Gloria went back out to find out what exactly happened on what was supposed to be a dry run.

“The walkers broke through the quarry, we had to go with the plan.” Michonne tells Maggie, Aaron, and Gloria, “Daryl went with Sasha and Abraham to lead the herd away and everything was going as planned until we heard the horn coming from home. What was that anyway?”

“A group of people somehow got inside the walls, killed a bunch of people, and I guess one of them crashed a truck into the wall making the horn go off.” Gloria tells her.

Michonne frowns at this, “dammit...”

“What about Rick and Glenn?” Maggie asks, worried.

“Rick went to get the RV to redirect the herd, he told us to come back here to figure out what was going on. I was with Glenn and Nicholas when we got to a town that was overrun. He split off with Nicholas, he had this idea that if he lit a fire, it would stop the walkers from coming here.” Michonne explains.

Gloria furrows her brows as she remembers what Rick had done before, “because that’s how we distracted the walkers at the farm...”

“I tried to go instead...” Michonne sighs, her voice full of remorse, “I wanted to... but the fire never got lit. We had to keep going, I’m sorry. He said if he got stuck, he’d find a way to send us a signal.”

“They’ll be okay, they’ll make it back, they will.” Gloria says, although she wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure Maggie or convince herself.

Maggie tearfully nods, worried for her husband’s safety. Just then, a familiar voice could be heard from outside the gates, calling out to whoever could hear him.

“Open the gates!”

Gloria and Michonne rush over to the main gates and push them open, revealing Rick with a large herd of walkers following him. Once they let Rick inside, they hurriedly shut the gates in time to keep the walkers out. The commotion from the walkers snarling and Rick yelling had attracted attention from the other residents of Alexandria. They were trapped within the walls of their own home with an army of walkers just outside.

“Come on.” Michonne says quietly to Gloria.

The two of them shut the clothed inner gate, blocking the view of walkers trying to claw their way into the community. As most of the residents had never even stepped outside the walls before, many of them were panicking and not knowing what to say or do.

“I know, and I understand that you’re all scared because you’ve never seen or been through anything like this.” Rick starts his speech to try and boost morale for the scared people of Alexandria, “the others who aren’t back yet, will be. Glenn will be back with Nicholas.”

Rick looks over to Maggie and he nods then looks over to Gloria, “Daryl, Abraham, and Sasha, they will all come back together.”

“What exactly do you expect us to do?” Tobin asks, his face full of skepticism.

“We keep the sound to an absolute minimum, hopefully the herd will pass when it’s quiet.” Rick suggests.

“It’s going to be a graveyard...” Francine sighs, her words cause the others to worry even more.

The feeling of doubt in Rick and fear is evident between the people of Alexandria. It was clear that they all blamed Rick for bringing the herd back and for coming up with the plan to lead the herd away.

“The quarry broke through sooner than we thought it would and that entire herd of walkers would have made their way back here. But Rick stopped that from happening, instead of having the entire herd tear this place apart, we only have half of that now and that is because of Rick.” Aaron steps up in his defense.

He then closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, “the group that attacked us... I lead them back here. When I was out there with Daryl, he wanted to recruit more people but I... I wanted to scavenge a warehouse. We did what I wanted and we got caught in a trap set by those people. I left my bag behind and that’s how they found this place. I lead them straight here, that’s on me.”

It’s silent save for the groans and moans of the walkers outside the walls. Rick looks at Aaron in gratitude, he knew that he was trying to turn the mood to blame him for things that have happened instead. He pats the other man’s shoulder and nods at him. The crowd begins to disperse, keeping quiet as they all retreat back to their own homes.

“Gloria,” she hears Jacob call out to her as he walks towards her, “listen, I’m sorry about Glenn, I wanted to go with them but they wouldn’t have me.”

“Are you wondering why?” Gloria raises her eyebrow.

He sighs and shakes his head, “no, no I’m not... I am wondering though... why are there bodies inside the walls, did roamers get in?”

“No, people did,” Gloria tells him, “they got in here somehow and started slaughtering people...”

“What? Are Mindy and Gena okay?” he asks, frantically.

“They’re fine, at least they should be. I told them to stay inside, keep the doors locked until someone comes to get them,” Gloria tells him, “we should go check on them, let Mindy know you’re okay before she passes out.”

Jacob nods at that and the two make their way to Gena’s house. Gloria makes sure to knock on the door and call out to Gena to let her know it’s them. Shortly after, the door opens and Jacob rushes inside to make sure his sister is alright. Gloria walks into the house and closes the door behind her.

Mindy frowns as she sees the cuts and scrapes on his face, “Gloria, are the dangerous men outside gone?”

“Yeah, they’re gone.” Gloria nods.

“Okay, we’re going to the infirmary,” Mindy says, looking at Jacob, “the last thing we want is for the cuts on your face to get infected, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Jacob sighs and nods, complying with his sister’s words. They make their way to the infirmary, leaving Gena and Gloria alone.

“Gena,” Gloria calls out to her older sister to catch her attention, “Michonne said that Glenn’s still out there with Nicholas in some town, he wanted to light a fire to distract the herd from coming here.” Gloria says, her jaw tight as she tries to hold herself together.

Gena furrows her brow at her words as she sees right through Gloria, knowing she’s putting up a strong front, she pulls her in for a comforting hug, “Glenn will be fine, and Daryl will be too.”

Gloria smiles tearfully at her as she pulls back from the hug, nodding, “and so will we, we’ll keep this place up so they have a home to come back to.”

Gena nods then opens the container of cookies on the island counter, “cookie?” she asks, offering one to the younger.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to eat them because of all the sugar,” Gloria chuckles as she takes a cookie for herself.

“I might not have long left so I might as well have all the sugar I want.” Gena says, then takes a bite of her cookie, her words make Gloria frown.

“Don’t talk like that,” she scolds then groans when Gena shrugs, “you are so contradictory. One minute you’re telling me that things will be okay, the next you’re talking about not having any time left. What the hell do you actually think?!”

“I think that I’m not gonna make it!” Gena snaps, “I’m surprised I even made it this far. You can fight, Glenn’s fast, of course both of you are gonna make it, but me? I can only fight with my words, that’s why I became a lawyer but what good is that gonna do for me now? What, am I going to just yell at the undead to stop coming at me?!”

Gloria puts down the cookie on the island counter and holds Gena by her shoulders, “look at me. You will make it, okay? It doesn’t matter that you can’t fight or you’re not as fast as Glenn, you’ll make it because we will all make it. You’re not alone in this, we got your back. You said I can fight, right? I’ll protect you.”

Gena chuckles softly at her words, “who’s supposed to be the older sister?”

“It doesn’t matter who’s older or younger, we’re family, and family protect each other no matter what.” Gloria says with a warm smile.

Gena’s eyes well up with tears and she caresses Gloria’s cheeks, breaking into a sob, “what did I do to you? You always had to fend for yourself... I’m so sorry...”

“It’s okay,” Gloria says, pulling Gena in for a hug as the older cries in her arms, “if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long anyway.”

As Gena tries to stifle her sobs, Gloria’s eyes land on a photo album on the island counter near the container of cookies. She reaches out to slide it towards her and opens it, her movement making Gena pull away from the hug to see what Gloria was doing. She flips to a page in the album with childhood photos of the three siblings. She chuckles when she sees the three of them as children.

“You brought photo albums with you?” Gloria teases.

“Of course, I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see my baby brother and sister again so the least I had were these.” Gena admits, looking at the photos.

A sad smile pulls at Gloria’s lips then Gena clears her throat, trying not to break down and cry again. She flips to a specific page in the album and points to a photo.

“That’s my favorite picture of us.” Gena informs her.

It was a photo of them all in formal clothing. Glenn was in a black suit, Gloria in a dark blue dress, and Gena in a red dress. The photo was taken at one of their cousin’s weddings.

“It’s my favorite because we all look so grown up and happy. I’m also pretty sure it’s the only photo of us all smiling.” Gena explains.

Gloria laughs and nods, “yeah, if you look at all of these it’s either me pouting and crying or Glenn making a weird face at the camera.”

The sisters go through more photo albums for hours, reminiscing over past events captured in the photos. After Mindy and Jacob had returned to the house, Gloria went back to her own to rest as it was getting quite late. She had tried to sleep but no matter how exhausted her body felt, her mind was not allowing her to fall asleep. She’d been tossing and turning in her bed for hours when she decided to get up. Gloria walks into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water before sitting on a stool at the kitchen island counter. She places the glass in front of her as she props her elbows up on the counter, clasping her hands together to keep herself from fidgeting anxiously.

Gloria couldn’t help but be worried about Glenn and Daryl, no matter what anyone else told her. It was the fact that she had no idea where they were that worried her the most. A big part of her wished that she went against Daryl’s wishes and gone out with them, at least then she would be with either of them and know what the heck was going on. Now, she was just sitting in the kitchen helplessly, not knowing what else to do. The door opening pulls Gloria out of her thoughts and she forces a smile at Maggie who walks into the house.

“Hey, why aren’t you sleeping?” Maggie asks, stepping towards her, a worried look on her face.

“I don’t think any of us are gonna get any sleep tonight,” Gloria chuckles softly and then she sighs, “how are you holding up?”

“Not great,” Maggie tells her honestly, joining her on one of the other stools at the kitchen island counter, “I almost went out there to find him.”

“Alone?” Gloria furrows her brow in concern.

“I was about to, but Aaron insisted on coming with me,” Maggie tells her, “showed me a way out from the sewers, we were almost out, but I changed my mind...”

“It’s good that you did, Glenn wouldn’t want you out there, not in the middle of this,” Gloria says, holding her hand in reassurance.

Maggie lets out a shaky breath, “I’m pregnant.”

Gloria’s eyes widen at the news then she smiles at her, “congratulations.”

“For what?” Maggie snaps, tears brimming in her eyes, “having a baby who’s father might already be dead?”

“Maggie, you can’t think like that,” Gloria says sternly, “Glenn’s going to be back, I know he will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Maggie asks as she tries to keep herself from crying.

“It’s Glenn. He’s not going to let you go through this alone, he’ll be back and he’ll take care of you. I know him, he’s going to do everything he can to get back to you and your baby,” Gloria gives her hand a light squeeze to comfort her.

A small smile tugs at Maggie’s lips and she smiles tearfully at Gloria, nodding, “you’re right, that’s how Glenn is...”

“Yeah,” Gloria smiles in agreement, then she lets out a breath.

“Hey,” Maggie calls out, making the other look at her, “Daryl’s gonna be back too.”

Gloria nods at that, “our boys will be back, they will be.”

---

In the morning, Gloria goes out to check on the others. She mainly wanted to see if Glenn or Daryl had come back, but unfortunately they were still outside the walls. Her first stop was the infirmary to check up on Scott.

“How’s it going?” Gloria asks, she glances at Scott who’s still asleep on the patient bed.

“He had an infection and was burning up last night.” Denise informs.

Gloria looks at her and frowns, “why didn’t you come find me?”

“I know I should have, but I wanted to try first... I wanted to try and figure it out on my own in case I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t let what happened to Holly stop me from trying.” Denise says.

Her words make Gloria smile proudly and she nods, “since his heart rate is normal, I’m gonna take an educated guess that you managed to figure it out?”

“Yep, I did,” Denise grins, “I injected his wound with saline and extracted the pus from it. Once I did, his heart rate stabilized.”

Gloria pats Denise’s shoulder, “you’ve officially been promoted to a doctor.”

Denise giggles then bites her lip, blush creeping on her face, “I um...”

“Yes?” she raises an eyebrow in question.

“I... kinda kissed Tara yesterday after figuring things out.” Denise admits shyly.

“And you kept on denying that you didn’t like her.” Gloria calls her out, laughing.

Denise rolls her eyes jokingly at her teasing but laughs with her anyway. A knock on the infirmary door interrupts their chat as they both turn and see Morgan. The two women greet the man who in turn smiles at them.

“I uh... I was hoping to speak with Denise alone. I heard she was a psychiatrist before and I have uh... some issues I wanted to work out.” Morgan says sheepishly.

Gloria smiles understanding and nods, “he’s all yours, Dr. Cloyd.”

Denise beams at her new title, grinning shyly as she bids farewell to Gloria who leaves the two in the infirmary. She goes on to find Maggie who was on the platform keeping watch. She climbs up to meet her sister-in-law and stands beside her, looking out into the herd of walkers just outside the walls.

“Have you seen any signs?” Gloria asks her.

Maggie shakes her head, “no... just walkers.”

Gloria nods and sighs. They were both worried for Glenn, it wasn’t that they didn’t think he could handle himself, it was more so of the fact that he was out there with Nicholas. What if he hadn’t changed and tried to kill Glenn again, they would never know. Emotion overcomes Maggie as her eyes well up in tears, she looks down and sniffles, doing her best to stop herself from crying. Gloria looks at her sympathetically and holds her shoulder firm for reassurance.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday...” Maggie sighs deeply, “I shouldn’t have said what I said about Glenn being dead...”

“It’s okay...” Gloria pauses then chuckles, “are you gonna snap at me if I say that I blamed your hormones?”

Maggie eyes her playfully then finally breaks into a smile, “no, I’ll just push you off this ledge.”

The two of them laugh lightly as they look out into the distance. Both of their expressions change as something in the distance catches their eyes. A bundle of green balloons were floating up into the sky. It dawns on both of them that this was the sign they were waiting for, Glenn was alive and this was his signal.

“We gotta tell Rick.” Maggie says, rushing down the ladder.

“Hey, be careful.” Gloria calls out as she quickly follows her down.

“Rick! Rick!” Maggie calls out as she runs towards the sheriff, “that’s Glenn.”

He was also looking up at the sky, his eyes on the bundle of bright green balloons. Rick glances at her and nods with a small smile. His smile is short lived though as they all hear a thundering crack of wood along the wall. The watchtower begins to sway just before it leans into the wall and crashes down, taking the metal walls with it.

---

Next Chapter

Sorry for not having any Daryl in this one but it’s worth it, I swear! I’d say this is kinda like the calm before the storm? The next one gets pretty intense so look forward to that! Please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter, it was a rather emotional one in my opinion ^^

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

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magioftheseas · 4 years

Text

A.I. to AI

Summary: Post-SDR2.5 AU in while a certain Alter Ego and a certain Ultimate Lucky still have some difficulties moving forward.

Rating: T

Warnings: Emetophobia (mild)

Notes: Hhhhhh, World Destroyer/Komaeda...good...and yet so rare. So, here it is. Have fun.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

Komaeda Nagito is

Capricious

Stubborn

Frustrating

Unstable

Desperate

Hopeless

Lovely

Problematic

Through many deep dives, Alter Ego is confident in identifying Komaeda Nagito’s character. As confident as a program can be, although it was not the prerogative to know and understand Komaeda Nagito. The mission was simply to retrieve Komaeda Nagito, the last of the remnants.

It had taken many deep dives. Many methods had to be used. Some involving direct contact from the start, and others requiring more distance, more detachment. All the same, there had been many confrontations.

It is not Alter Ego’s mission to know and understand Komaeda Nagito, but with how much time spent in Komaeda Nagito’s dreamscape, it was inevitable to take notice of and learn such things.

When Komaeda Nagito was extracted—the mission was complete.

That was it.

It was over.

It should have been over.

“World Destroyer-kun! Alter Ego-kun! Destroyer-kun? Ego-kun? Which would you prefer I call you?”

“I have no preference.”

“I do know another Alter Ego-san,” Komaeda was saying. Acting sweet and cheerful. As if there isn’t somewhere else he should be. “The one made by the Ultimate Programmer. They’re much more polite and pleasant than you are.”

“And yet, I am the one you are speaking to.”

Komaeda laughs, smiling without care. But there are signs of tension from the tightness of his shoulders to even the way his elbow dug into the table’s surface with his chin pressing down hard into his fleshy palm. Only the mechanical limb was able to remain completely still.

“You are troubled,” is the obvious observation to make. “I presume it is about the other remnants and my master.”

“Your presumptions would be correct,” Komaeda says. His smile is twitching around the corners. The typical sign of contradictory emotions. Of admiration and irritation. “If you already know, then I don’t have to explain anything, right?”

“Explanations would be...” A pause. “Unnecessary.”

Komaeda seems pleased with that answer, but somewhere in the back of Alter Ego’s coding was the curious thought if that had been the correct response.

How irritating.

Among the methods, there had been direct contact. Komaeda Nagito does not remember this, but these attempts are in fact stored in Alter Ego’s data banks. If one knew how to dig, the footage of those attempts could be replayed. All taken from Alter Ego’s vacant gaze at the time.

A gaze that caught Komaeda Nagito in a state of shock. Which had observed and scrutinized the way Komaeda Nagito shrank in on himself, pulling further and further away from the program’s prodding.

“I’m already at peace, so don’t bother me anymore,” Komaeda Nagito had said. “You’re—an annoyance.”

Irritating.

“Destroyer-kun!”

“Is that the name you have decided on?”

“If you have a problem with it, just say so!”

“I have nothing to say.”

Once again, Komaeda Nagito has visited. How did Komaeda Nagito even find this place?

The answer was obvious.

(“It was just good luck!” Komaeda Nagito had exclaimed, looking so unbearably joyful. “And after spraining my wrist...! It was only a matter of time before something good happened!”)

“I made my own coffee today,” Komaeda was saying now. “It was so awful! So brutal! A truly contemptible and pitiful attempt! I got so sick that I threw up in the sink!” His spirited performance turned downcast in a heartbeat. “Koizumi-san was quite cross with me. According to Owari-san, the smell was so awful.”

“Yes, bile does have a stench,” was the dry, unimpressed response. “The odor gets worse depending on what was ingested.”

“Oh, Destroyer-kun,” Komaeda mourns. “I just keep messing up around them. No matter what I do, I can’t help being wretched!”

“That mistake...was hardly serious.”

For some reason, Komaeda’s distraught expression was troubling. Had he, a program, developed a bias? A proximity bias? If so, that was a bug.

One that his master needed to patch out. His master would have to be informed. Informed of the displeased reaction that comes about simply because Komaeda Nagito is distressed.

“It’s not just that mistake,” Komaeda sighs next. “It’s—surely you know the saying. The straw that breaks the camel’s back?”

“I am aware, but that perspective is flawed.” It was aggravating. Truly aggravating. Perhaps not a mere bug but a virus in how vicious this sensation became. “You are not...”

The sensation gets aggressive. It threatens to consume the entire system. It gets to the point where he needs to be reset, but—

Komaeda is...

“I’m sorry,” Komaeda is apologizing. Komaeda gives such a miserable smile. “I’m troubling you, aren’t I?”

“No.” Immediate. Almost panicked. “No, Komaeda...”

“Ah.”

Komaeda blinked at him. His expression changed. Eyes went wide, mouth parted open. An expression of surprise.

“...I didn’t think a program could make an expression like that.” Then, a laugh. “Oh, wait, what am I even saying? You’re not even the first advanced artificial intelligence I’ve ever met.”

Komaeda seemed taken aback but tickled nonetheless. When faced with something incomprehensible, it was...understandable to simply take it in bewildered stride.

“I meant to reassure you,” he realizes now. “But it appears I am inadequate at such a task.”

“It’s alright,” Komaeda says with such sincerity. “Just your intent rather warmed my heart, Destroyer-kun. You’re such a kind person. I wonder who you got that from...?”

Komaeda ponders this as if he doesn’t already know the answer. As if that very answer doesn’t cause Komaeda’s smile to falter.

“Thank you, Destroyer-kun,” Komaeda says next, and it will have to do for now.

Komaeda visits him regularly. Not every interaction is worth remembering, but he finds that he perks up regardless. Sometimes, Komaeda won’t converse much; instead just settling down in the chair with a coffee. Sipping demurely and rubbing exhaustion from his eyes. The only sounds that transpired would be Komaeda’s breathing, the whirl of his robotic arm, and the buzzing of the program.

Komaeda would finish his coffee, give him a simple smile, would leave, and repeat.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

And then, Komaeda lays his head down in front of him.

“Let me rest for a bit,” he tiredly requests. Silence is taken as acquiesce, and it isn’t long before Komaeda Nagito drifts off into slumber.

It’s strange.

That position is not comfortable, and yet, Komaeda Nagito sleeps with ease. Perhaps the other had simply been exhausted—but perhaps Komaeda Nagito felt secure here. With only a mere AI for company, Komaeda Nagito was relaxed.

But not as relaxed as he had been in the program, surrounded by friends who cared for him and encased by a world designed to keep him safe.

He does wonder if Komaeda Nagito yearns for that place despite having verbally dismissed it in the past. He likely does. Komaeda Nagito may have been sincere in the thoughts and feelings he expressed, but he wasn’t very honest to himself. What a frustrating contradiction.

And, yet, the artificial intelligence that has long since fulfilled its objective...cannot help but find this person fascinating.

Fascinating and lovely.

How could something like this happen?

He watches Komaeda Nagito sleep.

Komaeda Nagito sleeps.

Komaeda Nagito does not wake up even when the door opens.

“So this is where he is,” his master sighs. His master looks a bit ragged but also relieved to see Komaeda’s hunched shoulders. No matter the occasion, his master strides forward with grace and purpose. His master then lightly takes those hunched shoulders.

“Do you plan to awake him?” he asks, and it is strange, isn’t it, to have this be the first question he has asked his master in so long. “He has been sleeping well up until now.”

His master flinches the slightest bit even though that response should have been expected. Perhaps, his master is fatigued enough to impair his instincts.

“I...” His master swallows. Nervously. “I do know that he’s been visiting you as of late... Alter Ego.”

Alter Ego is not surprised to hear this. Obviously, his master would have known. Why, then, does his master look so uncertain?

“Master,” he says and asks with all the grace that can be generated from a machine, “Are you feeling insecure?”

There is a reason why there is no such thing as a ballerina android. Subsequently, this is why artificial conductors are much more inefficient for orchestras than human ones are.

“That obvious, huh,” his master mutters as if the dryness of the question had rubbed him raw. His master sighs. Inhale, exhale. His master regards his creation with brief disdain before it’s blinked away, leaving behind a vulnerable, insecure human.

A human which is still more capable than a machine.

“Komaeda really likes you,” that human says, like he can’t believe it or understand it either. “Komaeda would rather be around you than anyone else. Including me.”

“It...” Alter Ego processes this, and finally, finally, he comes to a logical explanation. “It is not about liking me. It is about the simulation of companionship with none of the expectation nor the baggage. Komaeda Nagito is lonely, but he fears intimacy. With a mere program, he has nothing to fear.”

The human—Hinata Hajime, Kamukura Izuru, no, simply his master—blinks at him.

“I suppose that is one explanation,” he says slowly. “But, it’s never that simple. Not with people, and especially not with Komaeda.”

“That seems like a generalization, master,” Alter Ego points out.

“It is, but... Urgh. You’re basically saying that Komaeda finds you unfulfilling, which is a bit...” His master shook his head. “That... Do you really know for sure if that’s true?”

...

Machines are not designed to feel pain. And he in particular was not given the capacity to come even close to pain due to his purpose. To feel pain himself would have been counterproductive. His master had known that. Thus, his master had taken great pains to ensure that he would never feel pain.

Still, Alter Ego had paused and mulled that painful question over.

“It is a sound explanation,” he decides on, but his gaze lingers on Komaeda Nagito.

Komaeda Nagito, who murmurs so softly in his sleep. Smacks his lips. Looks at peace.

“I guess it is beyond your capacity for understanding.”

Alter Ego snaps back to attention. His master regards him coldly and warily. Irritated and insecure. Since he understands his master, it does not bother him.

“If Komaeda Nagito thinks himself fond of me...”

He is mistaken.

That is what Alter Ego should say, but for one reason or another, he can’t bring himself to continue.

It doesn’t matter. His master can fill in the blanks, and given by the way his brow furrows and his expression darkens, his master does just that.

Soon after, though, his master’s look softens.

“It’s a good thing,” he sighs. “It’s great that Komaeda’s not completely keeping to himself and that he’s socializing at all, but... I just wish he’d give us another chance. Sure, not everyone’s willing to welcome him back but... We should get the opportunity to try, right?”

“You cannot force him,” Alter Ego points out. “Komaeda Nagito is not obligated. He should approach you because he wants to.”

Not to mention—

“If you respect his feelings, you should not be having this conversation that he can overhear.”

His master laughs. It’s harsh and lacking mirth, but when his master turns his attention to Komaeda and pats his shoulder, he’s nothing short of gentle. Gentle while wearing a melancholy smile.

“Both of us would be able to see right through him,” his master says. “It’s taken a lot, but I think I understand him well enough.” Idly, almost without thinking, his master moves his hand from Komaeda’s shoulder to card through the fluffy white strands. “I’ll help the others understand, too. So that when he’s ready...”

His master trails off. His master stops. His master shook his head.

“Komaeda...will end up hurting his neck if he sleeps like this. I’m gonna take him to his room, okay?”

His master hoists up Komaeda Nagito with ease. Holds him close and secure. Gives Alter Ego one last wry smile before heading out.

Alter Ego simply watches him go.

“Destroyer-kun, do you think I could speak to you in person?”

Komaeda fidgets. He’s visibly sheepish.

“Did something happen?” is asked in return instead of giving a proper response.

“It’s not that I dislike talking to a screen, but I’d like...” Komaeda trails off, his cheeks pink. He sputters softly, jaw working on the words he can’t bring himself to say. “That is...if it’s okay with you... Obviously I understand if...mm...”

“Is that really what you want?”

“Yes!” Komaeda’s chirpy response was immediate. “But is that okay?”

It would be best to decline.

“It is fine. There just has to be a degree of setup first. Follow my instructions closely, Komaeda Nagito.”

“O-Oh I don’t want to risk breaking anything.”

“It is fine. Even the total destruction of this island wouldn’t be the end of my existence.”

“Ooh!” Komaeda lights up. “Just like Hinata-kun and Kamukura-kun, then!”

Komaeda looks so happy.

It’s dazzling even with a screen in-between, but he is durable so it will be fine.

It has to be.

“Hey. Can you hear me?”

Komaeda Nagito wakes up on the beach.

“...Destroyer-kun?”

Komaeda Nagito blinks up at him owlishly but when he takes his hand, it’s with a desperate grip.

“It worked,” he breathes. “It really...”

“I had thought the setting being the same as the initial Neo World Program would be easiest to work with,” is explained as Komaeda Nagito is helped up. “How long do you plan to stay here?”

“Not long, I just...” Flushing, Komaeda is smiling so wide it looks painful. Yes. It is difficult to take, and yet—it is nice. “I wanted to talk to you. But...”

Komaeda Nagito does not let go of the other hand. If anything, he grips that hand even tighter.

“I...wanted it to be like this. Selfish, right?”

“It is human. But—if you wished for intimacy, my master...” Strange. He ends up trailing off. “My master...”

Komaeda Nagito squeezes his hand briefly. Once again.

“I’m not like that with them yet,” he said. Softly. But, in a way where significance ran underneath the words. Tucked under that light, airy chucker. “Destroyer-kun is my only friend for now.”

“I...”

Strange.

The words.

Wouldn’t—

“But even when I do manage to muster up my courage, I’m not going to forget you,” Komaeda went on, promised—seriously, this guy—“Destroyer-kun. The last thing I want is for you to be lonely.”

“I...do get lonely.” He blinked. Multiple times. “When I think of how you should be with your peers, I get lonely.”

“You’ll come with me,” Komaeda said suddenly. “We’ll work to better ourselves together. You’re much too capable to simply be left to rot.”

“My purpose is fulfilled.”

“Helping the world is surely more fulfilling than talking with me,” Komaeda says so easily with such assertion. “It’s no good to be so aimless, Destroyer-kun! Let’s do our best! You can even talk to other AI! We’ll both be among our peers, but we’ll still be friends, too...”

He wondered if that would truly be the case. It seemed silly that someone called the World Destroyer could build relationships with others—and yet...his relationship with Komaeda Nagito was undeniable.

Perhaps, it would be fine?

No.

It had to be fine.

“We can’t stay like this,” he realizes. “The world is open to us, and we must go there.”

“Yes,” Komaeda agreed, melancholy but resolute. “We’ll go together. You helped me out of the program, so I feel wretched for continuing to ask for your support, but...”

“You are offering yours in return, Nagito,” he said. “It’s fine.”

Komaeda smiles so brilliantly that it was too much for the simulation and the program. But, he shone with a hope that made the World Destroyer smile once again.

#Magi fics #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #KamuKomaHina #world destroyer

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ga-yuu · 3 years

Text

Akihito~1st Birthday Story~'A Blessing On A Cursed Day'~

Akihito's POV-----

The meeting with a court official with ties to the Imperial Court ended earlier than planned.

Akihito had returned to the Abe family residence earlier that day.

(It's been a while since I have invited Yasuchika and Ibuki to go out on the town.)

After crossing a long corridor, I came in front of Yasuchika's room...

Yasuchika: "----I will not. I won't celebrate Akihito-sama's birthday."

Ibuki: "You said the same thing last year and then gave up."

(Hm?)

Nodding his head at the mention of his name, he gently opened the sliding doors and looked into the room.

Ibuki: "If you're so worried about it, why don't you just have a quick party or two and give some random gifts?"

Yasuchika: "That's not easy."

Apparently, they are talking about Akihito's birthday, which is coming up in a few days.

Yasuchika: "....Before he was even born, he was cursed, and there was no one to congratulate him on his birth. That's what birthdays are for him."

(.....Indeed.)

But I don't feel sad about that now.

I am sure there will never be a day when I feel happy about my birthday.

Ibuki: "What's all the this? What do you want to do after all?"

Yasuchika: ".....I would like Akihito-sama to forget about that cursed day. That's all."

Ibuki: "You should just celebrate and not think about it anymore, because it's human nature to rewrite bad memories with good ones."

Yasuchika: "......................"

Yasuchika raises his shapely eyebrow and falls silent.

Yasuchika: "It's a birthday. Is there a right way to celebrate it?"

Ibuki: "Ah?"

Yasuchika: “You know what? I can’t celebrate his birthday with a straight face.”

(.....Yeah, Yasuchika is Yasuchika and he’s broken.)

A genius born with the greatest power of all time in the Abe family.

His childhood was undermined by adults who wanted to take advantage of his talent.

Ibuki: “We demons don’t have such celebrating customs like these.”

Yasuchika: “Useless.”

Ibuki: “What?”

I was in a somber mood, but their childish banter almost made me laugh.

(I know Yasuchika would be upset when I say this, but....that boy is so cute when he fights with Ibuki.)

(You can say and do whatever you want like this in front of me, too.)

With this in mind, I walked into the room with an unconcerned look on my face.

Akihito: “I’m sorry to bother you.”

Yasuchika: “...! Akihito-sama.”

Ibuki: “What’s with the early return?”

Akihito: “Yeah. Sort of. By the way, there’s something I wanted to let you both know....I’ve got my work done, so I’m going on a trip for the next few days to take my mind off things.”

Yasuchika: “A....trip?”

Yasuchika and Ibuki looked at each other when Akihito told them the date of his return, a few days after his birthday.

Akihito: “I’m sure people have their own agendas, so don’t worry about me.”

(I’ve noticed that every year, Yasuchika looked troubled on my birthday.)

(I thought I was giving you a hard time, but I didn’t realize I was giving you such a last-minute headache.)

However, there are no words in Akihito’s mind to resolve this conflict.

So I thought it would probably be easier for Yasuchika if I spend my birthday in a different place.

Yasuchika: “There are still many enemies targeting you from the court, Akihito-sama. I’m not sure if traveling alone would be safe....”

Ibuki waves his hand at the reluctant Yasuchika.

Ibuki: “Akihito is the King of curses. He also has my powers. What’s there to worry about?”

Yasuchika: “.....”

With a complicated look on his face, Yasuchika stares at Akihito.

Yasuchika: “At the very least, take my subordinate with you. .....I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Akihito: “-----I know, Yasuchika.”

.....................................

On the day of his birthday----

(I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a “visit to the enemy”, ......but I wanted to take a closer look at Kamakura.)

(I see. It’s not like the capital of Kyoto, which was built by court nobles, it was built by the warrior class.)

I walked along the main street, which was crowded with people.

The escort that Yasuchika gave me quickly dispersed before we reached Kamakura.

Akihito: “It’s a good thing, that I’m having more fun than I thought but....”

(------They’ve been following me for a while now. It's just as Yasuchika said.)

I felt a presence behind the stream of people, and I ponder without relaxing my legs.

Even if they are not as good as warriors who fight for a living, the headmen who have been threatened for a long time are sensitive to the desire to kill.

(There seems to be quite a lot of them, and it might have been a good idea to spread out the guards when this happens.)

(Well. I wonder if I’ll get away with it. ......or..)

I casually ask for a cloak in the passing by shop.

----And when the opportunity arose, I quickly blended in with the crowd.

...................

(Hmm. Looks like I have got it covered for now.)

(Should I just leave the town? or------)

As I walked along in the afternoon sun, which was beginning to ease towards dusk, wearing the cloak I had bought-----

The moment I turned the corner, I bumped into someone.

Akihito: “----Oh. Please forgive me.”

Yoshino: “No, actually, I’m sorry!”

(.......!)

I was holding the fox-possessed princess in my arms----the trump card of Shogunate.

Akihito: “.....You are.”

Yoshino’s clear eyes look up at Akihito in surprise.

(A bit of a coincidence. But it’s a good opportunity.)

(There’s no better time than now in knowing Yoshino’s charm, who has the power to change the course of a battlefield.)

Akihito smiles softly and picks up the luggage that Yoshino dropped.

Akihito: “Yes, here you go. Sorry, I hope it didn’t get dirty.”

Yoshino: “It’s all right, I had it wrapped. It was more my fault for being so careless...You’re not hurt, right?”

Akihito: “I am alright. My name is Akihito. I have only just arrived in town. .....What about you?”

Yoshino: “I’m Yoshino. It’s been a while since I came to live in Kamakura.”

Yoshino, who had told her name, continued the conversation without feeling suspicious.

Yoshino: “Akihito-san.....are you a traveler or a merchant? Do you have any business here?”

Akihito: “Yes, I do. I ran away from home.”

Yoshino: “Pardon?”

(Well, that’s the common reaction anyone would give.)

Yoshino: “Sooo....why did you run away?”

Akihito: “It’s not really a big deal, though.”

I could say all the truth or make up a lie.

I’ll try telling the truth in a whimsical and blurred way.

Akihito: “Actually, today is my birthday.”

Yoshino: “Really? Congratulations!”

Akihito: “Thank you.”

I replied with a smile to the formal answer she gave in no time.

Yoshino: ‘If it’s your birthday, why did you run away?”

Akihito: “I felt sorry for the boy who lives with us. He gets a bit uncomfortable every time, this year. We’re not used to each other celebrating birthdays and being celebrated.”

Yoshino, who is listening intently, would never dream that this is a conversation about Yasuchika.

(If I didn’t explain anything to her, she might think that I ran away from home to meet my lover.)

I continued my story while giggling inwardly.

Akihito: “There’s also another guy, who lives with us. He just finds it amusing that we’re so tense.... I realized it wouldn’t do any good if I stay at the mansion on this day.”

As expected, Yoshino gives a confused look as I increased the number of characters in my story.

Yoshino: “So, you three live together. Are you like a family?”

Akihito: “No, we’re not. I don’t know how to describe it. We are too close to be an acquaintance but too bleak to be friends. I think there are too many things missing for all of us to be a family.”

Yoshino: “Missing?”

Akihito: “Mm. Too many.”

The relationship between Akihito and the other two was complicated.

Affection, expectations, spellbinding----a tangled web of emotions that will fall apart no matter which way you cut it.

Akihito: “Well, anyway, the one I’m mentioning to you is the owner of the house, the boy.... I and the other guy lives in his mansion and go back and forth to other bases.”

Yoshino: “There must be a strong bond between the three of you to live together when you have other bases.”

Akihito: “-----I agree.”

(Sometimes I wish that this brief period of peace would last forever.)

But Akihito’s path and his wish to destroy everything are very contradictory.

Yoshino looks into Akihito’s face as if to say something, and asks boldly.

Yoshino: “Um, is there a reason, as to why neither of you wants to celebrate birthdays?”

Akihito: “Hmm, well...”

I looked at Yoshino, who was staring at me with all her heart.

An impulse arose, a faint tingle in my chest.

(Such pure eyes. They must have been loved and nurtured.)

(I wonder how she would react if I told her the situation a little more in-depth, as she would not understand me.)

Akihito: “----For a man who was not loved by the world, the day he was born was also the day he was made to suffer. I think the more we know about the situation, the more hesitant we are to celebrate.”

Yoshino: “Is there no one in the world who loves you....?”

Akihito: “Mm. If, for example, your father hates you, your mother shuns you and the nursery of countless vices...”

Yoshino clenched her fingertips together as if she were in a state of discomfort.

(Now, how are you going to answer this? Fox princess.)

Hesitantly, Yoshino opens her mouth and answers in an unexpectedly firm tone.

Yoshino: ".....----It's more awkward for people who live together. Because you wanted to do something for that boy, didn't you, Akihito-san? Isn't that compassion, love?"

(I see.)

(Not imposing your common sense of love, but also not shunning what is far from my understanding....)

(It's a simple but honestly desirable answer.)

However, having a favorable impression is not same thing as being right or wrong about it.

Akihito: "Who knows...."

(I wish I had, but....)

Akihito: "If you don't love, you may never essentially understand love. Me and the boy."

(I am sure, it's me who made Yasuchika more twisted.)

(I wanted to save that kind child from the darkness.)

But now, I am the one who is left in the darkness.

Akihito: “We have no way of proving the rightness of our feelings towards each other.”

Yoshino chokes on her words in a confused way.

But then-----

Akihito: “...............”

(.....this line of sight.)

Akihito frowns as he felt a cold murderous sensation.

Akihito: “----Did they find me?”

Yoshino: “Hm?”

Yoshino, who didn’t catch the murmured words, asked back, but----

(They must have been the assassins from earlier. Oh dear, I haven’t had the time to enjoy a chat .)

Akihito: “Okay then, I remembered something. So I will take my leave. Sorry, to mislead you with such a vague story.”

Yoshino: “Ah, no.....goodbye.”

Yoshino who was confused by Akihito’s sudden parting words, but told him goodbye, anyway.

(It’s impossibly kind of you to say goodbye to me with that look on your face when I told you I was a tourist, you know)

Akihito: “Yoshino.”

I reached out and gently stroked her soft hair.

Akihito: “I want you to be healthy. Always.”

Yoshino(blushing): “Akihito-san.....?”

Yoshino’s cheeks turns red.

I remembered it as a beautiful scene and turned my back to Yoshino, after releasing my hand.

It would be a mistake to wish her well when I am the one who will eventually bring her down.

Yoshino: “Ah......”

As I moved away, I could feel a coldness rising up inside me.

.........................

By the time Yoshino and Akihito, parted their ways in the back alley, the sky already turned red.

Akihito: “Now, what do you want from me?”

Men: “...............”

(.....Hmmm, this type of errand is obvious.)

Three men surrounds Akihito and pulled out their swords.

Man 1: “You’re the head, Sutokuin Akihito. We are here to take your life-----”

Akihito: “So, this is how it’s supposed to be, for me...”

Put my hand on my sleeve and gently took off my cloak with one hand.

(I didn’t buy this just for a disguise, but I needed something to hide my golden hair, in case of emergency.)

I removed the bracelet from my wrist....

(We are all bad guys anyway.)

Man 2: "Ngh....."

Akihito: "....'All Stop.'"

Man 3: "Mm..my body is,...."

The men stiffen as they are bombarded with unseen words.

The striations on the arm that holds the sword are raised, showing that he is exerting maximum effort, but he is not moving a single fingertip.

(......! Ah......)

-----A small bird which was just flying overhead lost control and crashed noiselessly into the wall of the building.

Akihito: ".............."

He acknowledges it out of the corner of his eyes and quietly bats his eyelashes.

(----Forgive me.)

A dull ache in my heart, like an old wound from a rainy day, and an unpleasant feeling rising in my throat.

Akihito: "....Oh dear. I've been in a bad mood. Thanks to Yoshino, I feel good now."

Man 1: "D-Don't come....near...."

Man 2: "Aghh."

Akihito: "....'Fall down.' "

The men fell to the ground as if they had been forcefully crushed by a huge weight.

The sword falls to the ground beside him, separated from his hand by the impact.

(Such a boring sight.)

After looking at them for a while, I slowly made my way to the fallen men.

Akihito: "Hey, are you prepared to be cursed.....for killing someone?"

(I won't tell this to Yasuchika. I don't want to him to worry.)

I crouched down and stretched my hand towards the man's chest...

Man 1: "Uwa..."

(If I were to kill someone on my birthday, it would be a fitting act for the King of curses.)

----But then.

Yoshino: "Akihito-san!"

(.....!)

Akihito: "----Yoshino."

I look back to see Yoshino standing there with a desperate look on her face.

(Why are you here?)

(.....I really wanted you to be healthy and I didn't want to involve you.)

She shook her head, signaling her rejection.

Akihito: "It's dangerous. Run away."

I know you don't understand what's going on.

Yoshino's face is pale as the air swirls with curses.

Yoshino: "I won't...run away."

Akihito: "......!"

(Why)

Yoshino breathes in and shouts at the top of her lungs.

Yoshino: "HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP!"

Akihito(shocked): "......"

Then, from the other side of the alley, I heard footsteps and voices---

Merchant 1: "Oi. What's going on here!?"

Merchant 2: "Just now, I heard Yoshino-san's voice..."

(Do they know Yoshino?)

Just as they were rushing in, dressed as merchants, the effect Kotodama wears off.

The men who had fallen to the ground began to groan and writhe.

Man 2: "Ah...kr..."

(....There too many people. I can't do anything bad anymore.)

I put my spell-binding bracelet back on my wrist and hid it under my sleeve.

(My hair, which has been dyed golden by the spell, should be back to normal in a little while from the way I feel.)

Merchant 1: "Yoshino-san, what happened?"

Merchant 2: "Who are these men?"

Yoshino: "Well...."

The merchants looks at each other, unsure of what to make of the disturbing situation.

Akihito: "..............."

In the meantime, the men staggered to their feet, looked at us in horror and put their swords in their hips.

Men 2: "....Let's get out of here."

Men 3: "Hey..Hey!"

The men ran away pushing the merchants aside.

(No way, I didn't think it would be possible to come out of that situation peacefully.)

It's obvious that it's going to be a weasel fight anyway, and I don't want to catch the one that got away.

Yoshino: "Um, Akihito-san?"

I exhaled faintly and looked at Yoshino.

Akihito(smiling): "----Thank you, Yoshino."

(This child who I thought would be helpless, changed the ending just by shouting.)

Merchant 1: "Yoshino-san, do you know him?"

Yoshino: "Eh, yeah."

The merchants are clearly suspicious of Akihito, who was hiding his face under the cloak.

Merchant 2: "Mister. Do you want us to report those men to the Shogunate soldiers?"

Merchant 3: "He even drew his sword."

Akihito: "We had a bit of an argument and I just upset him. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you."

Yoshino: "Are you really sure? Akihito-san."

Akihito: "Yeah."

Yoshino asked in a reserved tone,

Perhaps, she understood the circumstances, so she didn't want to step too deep into it.

(Pure, but perceptive and close to people's hearts.)

Merchant 3: "Well, if he's Yoshino-san's acquaintance, then...”

Merchant 1: "Yeah, if anything happens, don't hesitate to call us for help."

Yoshino: "Yes. Thank you everyone."

(It's no wonder the townspeople love you like this.)

.............

After all the merchants left, Yoshino turns to Akihito, once again.

Yoshino: "Are sure you're not hurt?"

After confirming that, my hair returned to normal, I took off my cloak.

Akihito: "I am fine. Sorry, if I made you worry. You've been very attentive to me for a while now. You're a sweet child."

Yoshino: "It's not like that...."

The way she shakes her head vigorously is endearing.

Akihito: "I think that must be how you earned the trust of everyone..."

Yoshino: "Eh?"

Akihito: "All the merchants just rushed to help you when you called for help. You seem to be very well known in this town though you haven't lived in Kamakura all your life."

Yoshino: "I'm just lucky to have people by my side. It's true that I often go out to town because of my work and the money I live in now. I'm getting to know people reasonably well these days, though."

Akihito: "I see."

(You can be kind to people because you believe in their goodness. It's a dazzlingly beautiful way to live.)

(.....But.)

----After a pause for breath and I looked at her to seek the answer to a mystery that has yet to solve.

Akihito: "Yoshino, why did you come after me?"

Then, as if Yoshino had remembered, she unwrapped the package she was holding.

Yoshino: "Um, will you take this, if you don't mind?"

Akihito: "Eh?"

She presented me with a brand new hanging scroll.

Yoshino: "It's not for celebrating your birthday, but to celebrate our first meeting."

Akihito(surprised): "............."

(----How should I answer that?)

The offer of a warm unsparing favor left me unusually choked up.

Yoshino: "In my personal opinion... no one should be sad on their birthday. Even if you're not used to being celebrated, at least you can smile. That's what I want."

Akihito: ".....Why are you talking to me like that when we've just met? What if you don't know me, what will you do if I am a villain who's ruining the world?"

(Will you despair when you eventually learn of my malice?)

Yoshino: "......I thought you looked lonely. I'm sorry if I was wrong."

Akihito: "I...."

---I had long ago locked up the feelings like 'loneliness' and 'pain' deep inside my body.

(Or so I thought.)

(Curses are sensitive to negative emotions, so I tried not to feel anything painful.)

As I did so, I became less and less sure of my own mind.

Yoshino: "Also, Akihito-san's voice was gentle when he told me about the people he live with.”

Yoshino’s clear voice gently warms my heart.

(Yoshino’s light is too strong for me.)

Hesitantly, I carefully unfolded the scroll.

Akihito: “It’s painting of a little bird.”

I gently traced the little bird in the painting with my fingertips.

......Thinking of the little bird that I killed with my curse.

Akihito(smiling): “It’s cute. Did you bought it because you liked it?”

Yoshino(smiling): “Yes. That’s why I can give it to people with confidence.”

Akihito(smiling): “----It’s a sign of your purity that you can give what you want without hesitation.”

Yoshino’s eyes flickered faintly with heat.

Akihito: “Thank you. I am glad that I got to met you today.”

I conveyed that from the bottom of my heart.

Just when Yoshino was about to open her mouth in hesitation....

I heard a faint flapping of wings.

(....Ah)

The small bird, which I thought was dead from my curse, flapped its wings and flew back up into the sky.

Yoshino: “Phew! I’m glad she’s alive.”

(.....So, it was just unconscious.)

Akihito(chuckles): “....Fu.”

Yoshino: “Akihito-san?”

Akihito: “Haha....Yeah, you’re right. I’m glad.”

As I watch the birds soar, I laugh out loud, feeling irresistibly happy.

(It was good day, indeed.)

(I never thought I’d feel that way on my birthday.)

----When I get back to Kyoto, I’ll tell Yasuchika and Ibuki that ‘something good had happened’.

(Ibuki would snicker and Yasuchika....he would surely be surprised.)

Yoshino’s eyes blinked in wonder as I walked over to her....

As much as I wanted to, I scooped up Yoshino’s chin with my fingertips.

Akihito: “Hey. Thanks to you, my heart feels so warm.”

I could feel Yoshino’s body heating up from my touch.

The honesty of it made me smile again.

Yoshino(blushing): “.....I haven’t done anything.”

Akihito: “You don’t need to know anything. At least, not now.”

(I was able to touch a piece of your brilliance today and I’m the only one who should remember it.)

Akihito: “Goodbye, Yoshino. Next time we meet, ......tell me more about yourself.”

(Even if the battlefield is darker than darkness.)

From beyond the sky that surrounds them, a huge darkness of night is about to slowly descend

Celebration with Ibuki

I loved it. The person who wrote this story, I love you, for write something heartwarming as this. It was seriously sad but at the very end Yoshino was able to make Akihito smile. That’s enough! As long as he smiles, I can live with that.

I actually only bought the bigger set thinking that it will have story both in Yoshino’s and Akihito’s POV. But turns out that it doesn’t. But I still think it wasn’t a disappointment because this story looks much better in Akihito’s POV than Yoshino’s.

After reading this story, I’m so impatient for Akihito’s route. I’m excited to see how it will be, also Ibuki, too. I hope we get their main routes soon!!!

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #ikemen genjiden akihito #ikemen series story set #ikemen series birthday story #akihito's birthday story

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yelena-bellova · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Family Reunion

Series Masterlist

Plot: The First Order catches up to the Solos and chaos ensues, along with surprising revelations and run-ins.

Warnings: Light violence and angst galore.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Surprise! Two chapters in one week! I was motivated to finish this one so that I could start on the next one. Enjoy!

———————

“What do you mean you’re leaving?!”

 “Uncle Luke says he wants me to train as a Jedi. Can you believe it?”

Ben was 14 and Y/n 11 when Luke Skywalker paid the Solos a visit to their home on Chandrila. They didn’t see their uncle often but when he came, he came with plenty of stories to tell. But this time, Luke had come to have a private discussion with Han and Leia before pulling Ben into it as well. Y/n had had her ear pressed against the door of her mother’s office trying to hear their conversation before remembering the door was soundproof. She waited anxiously in their kitchen, listening to C3-PO drone on about something she didn’t care about enough to remember. A while later Ben exited, looking simultaneously excited and sorrowful, and took her out to the backyard.

“But-but you can’t just leave! What about me and Mom and Dad and Chewie?” she cried, gesturing to their home.

“Y/n, this is something I have to do. You know how badly I want to be a Jedi and now I have the chance.” Ben responded, “And you can too.”  Y/n’s brows drew together, “What are you talking about?”

“Tell Uncle Luke that you can use the Force, he’ll want to train you too!” Ben said, hope rising in his voice.

Y/n groaned and covered her face with her hands, “Ben, what have I been telling you for years? I don’t want these powers, I didn’t ask for them and I don’t want anybody to know!”  “I don’t understand why you want to keep this hidden. If you use them right, they’re nothing to be afraid of. And if you came, we wouldn’t have to be separated.” Ben argued, gesturing between the two of them.

“Last time I used them, I slammed you into a control panel. They are most definitely something to be afraid of, and I’m not going to risk hurting anyone again.” Y/n replied, ‘I love you Ben, I don’t want you to go but I can’t follow you.”  Ben shook his head and his eyes bore into her, “You’re being selfish, you could become something great and you’re choosing to sit here and do nothing. Never mind the fact that I’m asking you to come with me and-  “BEN, DROP IT! I’M NOT GOING!” Y/n yelled, probably loud enough for their family to hear from inside.

Brother and sister glared at each other, silently facing off in a battle that nobody would win. Deep down, Ben was scared at the prospect about being without her by his side. And deep down, Y/n wanted to go with him and train. She wanted to learn about the Force and how to control her powers. She also didn’t want her and Ben to be separated, she couldn’t remember a life without her brother.

Finally, a tearful Y/n broke and closed the distance between them in a desperate hug, “Please don’t leave me.”  Ben sighed and tried to keep his tears at bay, but he couldn’t control his emotions when it came to his sister. He pulled her tight in his arms and the siblings sobbed together, dreading the near future in which their family would be split apart.

—-

Luke gave Ben one last week with his family before returning to collect him. Han still had reservations about sending their son away, but Leia was convinced that Luke could provide Ben knowledge they couldn’t. She was also sure that he could prevent and protect Ben from going down the road their own father had. Y/n was the only one who was wholly convinced it was a terrible idea, even if it was for her own selfish reasons of not wanting him to leave. But she knew Ben was strong with the Force and that he had potential to be a great Jedi, he could be what she was too scared to be.

So with tears shed, a bag packed and a promise to come back a Jedi, Ben Solo left home.

Communication wasn’t allowed so Y/n became very lonely, 3PO and Chewie couldn’t fill the hole in her life Ben had left. Till one night when she was reading in her room, she felt her brother calling out to her through the Force. He was trying to reassure her that he was okay and still with her. From there on out, though they couldn’t properly converse, they’d reach out to let each other know they were there.

Y/n grew up becoming a contradictory combination of her father and mother. She was strong-willed, independent and diplomatic like her mother, yet reckless, sarcastic and blunt like her father. She assisted Leia with political matters, accompanying her to senate hearings the older she got and enjoyed learning how the government worked. But she loved learning to fly and fire a blaster just as much when she’d return home to Han and Chewie. She’d even begun to use the Force in her everyday life, just small things like levitating a book or pen towards her. She knew Ben would call it a waste of her powers but if this was the speed of learning she was comfortable with, he’d have to get over it.

One night, when she was 20, she woke up gasping as if the air had been stolen from her lungs. For once, she hadn’t been awoken by the usual daunting dream that plagued her. There hadn’t been anything but an overwhelming feeling that something was terribly wrong, naturally she reached out to Ben to make sure he was okay.

There was no answer.

He always answered her. Day or night, he always made sure she knew he was there. She kept trying, calling his name out continuously as if trying to get his attention. Nothing. Y/n knew she was strong enough in the Force to trust her instincts, if she thought something was wrong with Ben then there probably was. That was enough for her to jump out of bed, start dressing herself and tiptoeing out of her room. Her parents wouldn’t allow her to go so she saw no point in alerting them to her departure, the same went for Chewbacca and 3PO.

She quietly exited the house unnoticed and navigated her way through the pitch black night using a flashlight. She knew what ship would get her to Ben faster, though she knew her Dad would probably disown her for flying it. Without a second thought, she pushed the button to lower the ramp to the Falcon and entered it. Y/n had flown it a few times with supervision and co-piloted for her father several times. But never on her own to an unknown location at night, but there was a first time for everything. She didn’t even know the coordinates of where Uncle Luke had set up his training academy, just that it was somewhere on Yavin 4. She settled in the captain’s chair and powered the ship up before closing her eyes, reaching out to Ben one last time. No answer.

“Alright, then I’m coming to you…” she muttered to herself as she brought the ship off the ground and into the night sky, “Please be okay, Ben…”

—————

“Where the hell are they?!” I exclaimed, Finn and my dad shaking their heads in confusion.

“I left Rey in the bar, I thought she’d go back to you guys,” Finn explained.

“Bee must’ve followed her, I can’t believe I took my eyes off of him.” I chastised myself, Poe was going to rise from the grave and kill me for losing his droid.

“Han, Y/N, follow me!” Maz ordered from a few steps above us, our party quickly turned and followed her back into the castle. She led us through the mostly emptied bar and down the dark hallway I’d seen her disappear into earlier. We headed down a large staurcase into a dimly lit, slightly ominous room with a small chest at the end of it. Maz ran ahead of us and opened it, pulling out an object,

“I kept it locked away.”

Dad looked like he’d been transported back in time, “Where did you get that?”  “I-is that...?” I stuttered as I stared at the lightsaber, shining as if it was brand new.

“Another story for another time,” Maz answered quickly before turning to Finn and placing the weapon in his hands, “Take it, find your friend!”

Clearly it would be a while till we heard her tale as the castle shook. It had just taken heavy fire, and it wasn’t hard to guess from who...

“Those beasts!” Maz exclaimed, “They’re here!”

“Shit,” I whispered, “We have to find Rey and BB-8, now!”

The five of us headed back up the staircase, me, Chewie and Dad heading up first with blasters drawn. What we emerged to see was a conplete 180 from the scene we’d left only moments ago. First Order ships were roaming the sky, shooting what remained of Maz’s once beautiful castle. Dad pulled me out from under the debris and placed himself as a human shield in front of me. He shot at incoming troopers to his right, while I took down the ones to our left.

“Come on Chewie!” Dad yelled as the three of us made our way through the rocky battlefield.

“Remember when I was a kid,” I yelled as we ran through the architectural wreckage, “And you used to tell me stories about fighting in the war?”

“Yeah?” Dad yelled back as we dodged enemy fire.  ”And I said I wanted to fight the bad guys with you one day?” I continued, loud enough to still be heard over the overhead TIE.

We dove behind a large chunk of debris just as a shot was only a few feet away from taking us out of the game for good. I slammed my back against the piece of rock panting,

“Not as fun as I thought it was going to be.” I remarked, causing my father to laugh before resuming firing.

We formed a barricade of sorts, me and Dad each taking a side while Chewie stood between us so we were covered from all angles. Good news was that we all knew what we were doing so there weren’t many close calls. The three of us worked together like a well oiled machine and if we weren’t fighting for our lives, I’d start to ache for the days where we weren’t separated.

“Hey,” Dad motioned to Chewie’s bow caster, “Can I try that?”

Chewe handed it to him and Dad peeked out from behind our cover to take a shot, sending troopers flying back a couple feet.

“I like this thing.” Dad remarked, handing the weapon back to Chewie as I scanned the battlefield for Finn. I was shocked to see him taking troopers down one by one with the lightsaber. He was surprisingly good for someone who’d never picked one up. Until one came at him with an electric mace and Finn had to swing wildly to dodge him.

I took off running, ignoring my dad and Chewbacca yelling my name. I trusted them to cover me as I crossed the field to Finn. He was simply outmatched against the trooper who had just shocked him with his weapon and sent Finn flying back. From the angle I was coming at, I was going to be right behind the trooper, allowing me the element of surprise. He was raising his mace above Finn, ready to kill and not simply injure. Without thinking, I holstered my blaster and unlatched my lightsaber from the inside of my jacket before igniting it. I took hold of the Stormtrooper’s shoulder and pulled him back into the blue blade, the end sticking out of his chest. Once I was sure he was dead, I pulled the blade out and wrenched him to the side to reveal a stunned Finn staring up at me. I deactivated the saber and latched it back inside my jacket before helping my friend up,

“Don’t mention this to a soul.”

Finn nodded passively as he tried to catch his breath, we turned to see my dad and Chewbacca jogging towards us. They wore the same shocked expressions Finn did and I realized that it was highly likely my secret was out of the bag.

“You guys okay?” Dad asked, Finn and I nodded.

“What are the odds you guys didn’t see that?” I inquired, my dad opened his mouth to respond, “Y’know what, never mind...”

Before anyone could say anything else, a battalion of troopers surrounded us with blasters drawn.

“Don’t move,” one of them ordered, “TK-338, we have targets in custody!”

A few came forward and ripped our weapons out of our hands, I had to stop from launching myself at them when they took Luke’s lightsaber from Finn. Luckily, they didn’t know that mine was still safely with me. Unfortunately, I knew it was a stupid idea to try and fight my way out of this. We put our hands behind our heads and the troopers began leading us away. We still didn’t have Rey or BB-8 with us. We’d failed, no, I’d failed. Failed my mother, failed Poe, failed the Resistance, failed the galaxy...Not only that but I’d managed to drag Finn, my father and Chewie into this and was now marching them toward their death. I’d never felt so defeated in my life. The First Order would find BB-8 somehow, they’d get the map and they’d probably kill Luke. I had singlehandedly doomed the galaxy to-

“It’s not your fault, kid,” Dad mumbled to me quiet enough so the troopers wouldn’t hear.

“Yeah, it is...” I replied dejectedly.

We hadn’t gotten that far before one of the troopers announced they were getting some sort of reading. The one leading us shouted orders for the battalion to move and most of them ran ahead of us. I looked out onto the nearby lake to see off in the distance, a line of ships were skimming the water. I grinned and waited for them to get closer, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing,

“It’s the Resistance.”

The X-Wing fleet extended their wings and rose to meet the TIE’s that were coming in their direction. The shooting began and I chuckled, I didn’t see one shot even graze one of our ships. The First Order was definitely screwed when it came to our pilots, they were incredible. As one of the X-Wing’s got closer, the troopers around us took aim and the ship fired single fatal shots at each of them. The four of us hurried to find our respective weapons and started taking out troopers. I opted for my blaster instead of the lightsaber, I didn’t need any of our pilots seeing that from the skies and having questions. Finn had grabbed one of the Stormtrooper’s blasters and I had to admire the irony of the moment. The very weapon he’d been taught to use against people like me was now being used to take down his former organization. It only made me have more admiration for my new friend, Poe had been right to trust him.

As we fired back at the troopers, I heard an X-Wing soar right above me. I looked up to see the ship take out two TIE’s while trailing a third, though it only lived a few seconds more. The X-Wing then blasted three troopers nearby before doing a showman style loop and taking out more TIE’s. It was strangely beautiful to watch. I breathlessly laughed, Finn cheered and yelled,  ”That’s one hell of a pilot!”  I’d only ever seen that style of flying, reckless yet somehow perfectly executed, from one person...And it was an impossibility that it could be him.

The troopers were almost completely eliminated so I went to find my dad. There was one he didn’t see coming but already had their gun aimed at him, I shot my arm out and ended his pursuit. Dad whipped around and came to meet me, pulling me into his arms, 

“You good?”  ”Yeah,” I pulled away to examine him, “You?”  He froze suddenly, his gaze no longer on me and trained on something else. I turned to see one of the last things I’d wanted or expected to see.

My brother carrying a limp Rey onto his ship.

Time itself had stopped, my ears rang blocking out the sound of X-Wing and TIE fire. Underneath the menacing looking mask rested the person I’d once loved most in the galaxy. This was the closest I’d been to him in years and out of familial instinct, I let go of my father and took a step towards him. He had Rey, he couldn’t leave with her and I couldn’t lose her. A step was the furthest I got as my dad pulled me back and kept a firm grip,

“Y/n, no...”

I fought against him as much as I had the strength to, but knew it was a waste of energy. He wasn’t about to let me get killed for a momentary lapse in judgement, he couldn’t lose both his children. I knew I wouldn’t be able to save Rey, I’d have to wait till we got back to base and figure something out. For now, I rested against my father’s chest and let myself feel like a small child again. The two of us watched Ben disappear into his ship and it fly off, taking what little comfort we could find in one another.

 “NO!! REY!!”

Finn’s voice broke me out of my stupor and I groggily turned to see him standing a couple hundred feet away from us. He spotted us and ran over, I broke from my father to meet him in the middle.

“He took her. Did you see that? He took her! She’s gone!”

“I know, I know...” I replied, gripping Finn’s arms to stabilize the both of us, “We’ll get her back, hey, look at me.”

His eyes met mine tearfully, “We’re gonna get her back.” I enforced.

Y/N! Finn!

We both turned to see BB-8 rolling towards us as fast as he could,

“Bee!”

I kneeled down to meet him, holding his round body to mine as he let out a round of happy beeps. At least we hadn’t lost everyone, and we hadn’t lost what we had of the map. Overhead, a Resistance transport was preparing to land and I knew who would be waiting on the other side of its doors. I jogged over towards its landing spot and saw my dad and Chewie waiting ahead of me. The transport doors opened and soldiers began filing out, giving me nods and acknowledgements as they went to survey the damage.

And in the middle of the landing party was my mother.

My body instantly relaxed, I’d never been so happy to see her in my life. Even though everything was falling apart and my heart was broken, my mother’s warm presence made it feel like we’d be okay. Then again, she’d just made eye contact with my father for the first time in six years. Things stood a chance at being very very not okay. I watched them from a distance, it was if they were trying to communicate six years of emotions into one long gaze. It was heartbreakingly beautiful in a way...

“Goodness! Han Solo!”

Until someone ruined it.

“It is I, C3-PO! You probably don’t recognize me because of the red arm,” he droned on before turning to my mother, “Look who it is, did you see who?”

Mom raised her eyebrows at him, a small smile playing on her lips. Though I loved the droid dearly, subtlety was not his strong suit...

“Mistress Solo! Oh, how wonderful it is to see you again,” he announced as he waddled his way to me, “When you and Commander Dameron did not report back to base we feared the-“

“It’s good to see you too, 3PO.” I greeted, patting his colorful arm as I walked past him to meet my mother. I’d missed the interaction between my parents but I was renewed by the sight of Chewbacca embracing Mom. Once she caught me out the corner of her eye, she separated from him. She pulled me into her arms the same way she had when I was a child, I let myself crack and began crying into her shoulder.

“Mom...” I whimpered, she stroked my hair and kissed the side of my head.

“We saw him, Leia...” Dad said, “I saw our son.”

I pulled back to dry my wet eyes and saw my mom’s face. She didn’t look entirely shocked, but she was definitely stunned. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d only missed him by maybe a minute.

Mom took hold of my arms gently, “Is BB-8 still with you?”

“Yeah,” I turned to see him sitting to the side engaged in conversation with 3PO.

She smiled softly and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, “Good, let’s get back to base. We’ve got work to do.”

“I’ll ride back on the Falcon, meet you there.” I answered, squeezing her hand and parting ways to join my dad. Chewie and BB-8 followed us. I whistled in Finn’s direction, who turned to face me,

“You wanna come help save the galaxy?”

—————

“You sure these are the right coordinates?”

“Considering I live there, pretty sure...”

I finished punching the numbers into the Falcon before settling into the co-pilot’s seat next to Dad. Chewie was uncharacteristically lax about giving up his position and was resting in the back. But he knew how long it had been since I’d flown with my father, he could give it up for one day.

“All good?” Dad asked.

“Ready when you are.” I replied, eyes already on the thin layer of grey, smoky clouds in front of us. I felt bad for leaving Maz but she insisted we needed to go immediately. I was sure though that our paths would cross again.

Dad lifted the ship off the ground and steered us into the sky before jumping to lightspeed. I was too deep in my mind to really notice the stars whizzing by us, a sight I usually loved. Losing Poe, losing Rey, seeing Ben, using my lightsaber again...A little too much had happened in one day for my taste. Plus, I was about to have my second awkward conversation with my father in the past hour.

“...So about the, uh, thing you saw me do...Back there...” I stretched out my sentence as I leaned back in my seat.

“Yeah, that.” he replied, focused on adjusting controls.

“Um, I need you to not tell Mom about it. She kinda doesn’t know I can do...that.”

He sighed and after punching a few buttons, rotated his seat to face me, “Why don’t you want her to know?”

“Dad, come on,” I said before scoffing, “Mom hasn’t exactly had luck with her family members and the Force.”

Dad chuckled dryly, “Kid, you couldn’t be like them if you tried.”

“And I don’t,” I responded, “But does she really need that worry? That stress? Of another one of her kids holding a double edged sword? I can’t do that to her and I’m sorry that you have to live with that knowledge now!”

I hadn’t realized how loud my voice had grown till Dad put his hands on my knees to calm me, “Honey...”

I took a deep breath and leaned forward to place my hands over his, “I don’t like having this...talent, power, whatever you want to call it. Our family knows first hand the good and bad of the Force and I don’t want to be a part of it. Any of it.”

Dad’s face flickered with flashbacks, some I wasn’t alive for and some I was all too present for. I felt awful that he knew about me and now had to carry the weight. Yes, my main reasons for keeping my secret were selfish, but that didn’t mean I didn’t also care about my parents knowing. There weren’t many things that could remain hidden from my mother, but I’d been able to keep her in the dark about this since childhood. It had to stay that way.

“Fine, I won’t tell her. I’ll pass the message onto Chewie too. But I don’t like any of this.” Dad conceded reluctantly, turning back to the control panel.

I smiled and stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you. I’m gonna go check on Finn.”  ”Alright, and hey,” I stopped before I’d left the cockpit and turned back to him, “I meant it. You’re not like your brother, Y/n. You could never be.”

Smiling bittersweetly, I nodded and left him to his own thoughts. I knew he’d need a few minutes to himself before he was thrown back into the role of Han Solo, Living Legend. I snorted at the thought as I headed back to the lounge and found Finn sitting on the edge of the bunk. He was so deep in thought that he hadn’t even noticed I’d entered the room, no doubt his mind focused on Rey.

I knocked on a wall as not to startle him, “Shouldn’t be too much longer till we land.”  ”Good.” He replied, nodding almost mechanically towards me. I came to join him, leaving a little space between us,

“We’ll get her back.”  Finn sighed heavily and rubbed his hands together anxiously, “Even if nobody else comes with me, I’m going to get her.”

I furrowed my brows, “I’m not going to be chased by Stormtroopers, take down TIE Fighters, run from Rathtars and become fugitives with the girl only to leave her now. We,” I gestured between the two of us, “are going to get her.”

He gave a small smile, “Thank you, Y/n. You’re a good friend.”

I put an arm around his shoulders, “Glad to know we’re that.”

Finn looked like he was wrestling with whether or not to say something as he mimicked my posture, “I know, uh, I didn’t know him long but I’m sure Poe would be proud of you.”  I tried not to stiffen at his words, but it was inevitable. Poe’s death was a fresh wound that no matter how much gauze I put on it, still bled through. Now we were headed back to the one place where every inch reminded me of Poe. As his closest friend, I’d probably have to be the one who went into his room and take care of his possessions. I’d have to walk through the hanger and see the other pilots, I’d probably mistake a few for him. I’d have to lay in my bed and try not to remember his arms around me.   ”Y/n, I need you up here.” Dad called out.

I squeezed Finn’s shoulder and we released each other, I jogged up to the cockpit.  ”We’re about ten minutes out. If you want your secret kept, take over while I go talk to Chewie.”

“Got it,” I replied as I took his seat as he went to find the Wookie. I didn’t need to adjust any controls, just sit and dread what I was about to experience.

I’d have most of his things taken back to Kes on Yavin 4. I’d deliver them and break the news myself. The first time meeting the man and I’d be telling him his son was dead...I didn’t want to think about how difficult that day would be.

I’d keep some things for myself, I wanted a few physical reminders of his existence. I’d steal a few of his shirts and keep them in a separate drawer of my dresser so they wouldn’t lose their smell. I’d take one of his leather jackets too, though it would be rather big on me.

I’d see if BB-8 could be transferred over to me, I’d loved him long before our madcap adventure but now? I needed to make sure Poe’s droid was taken care of and I didn’t trust anybody enough with him. Hell, if needed I would pull rank and make sure he stayed with me.

I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d be able to handle it or not, but maybe I’d move into Poe’s room. His quarters weren’t too far away from mine so if Mom needed me, I was still close by. I hated the idea of some random person moving into his room, taking over the space that was rightfully Poe’s. Maybe it would hurt too much, or maybe it would help in some way.

Suddenly I wished I was on the other side of the galaxy. I’d spent all day trying to process it, but Poe’s death was about to feel real.

————

A/N: 😏😏😏😏 Next chapter will have plenty of fluff to make up for the past few chapters. And a whole lot of a certain X-Wing pilot. Also, in the Expanded Universe (I know it’s not canon anymore but I used it for this chapter) Luke set up his training academy on Yavin 4. Anyway, feel free to let me know what you thought or if you want to be tagged ☺️

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